#he adores kisses that last until we’re both breathless and i love them too so that’s awesome nyeheheheheheh

[tainted-wine]

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

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Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.  

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

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Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.6/finale

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five 

Summary: Inside the fold, Y/N and the Darkling face off.

Warnings: angst, fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

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When she was a child, Y/N feared the darkness. Every night she would lay awake with a candle by her side, too scared to close her eyes. She feared the unspoken horrors that occurred under the cloak of darkness, of one day finding herself in peril as well. The fold fueled such fears, especially when the boys in the orphanage would speak of the Volcra. She had heard the descriptions, the vile appearances and inhuman deeds they’re capable of. They haunted her when she closed her eyes, wondering if that’s what killed her parents.

Y/N still fears the dark, just of a different kind.

She fears the darkness that resides in humans, the kind that’s lurking under the surface yet remains invisible to the naked eye. At any point, the darkness could surface and once it does, it would swallow anyone who stands in its way. Perhaps that’s where her trust issues stem from, the corruption of human hearts. People are wicked, using everything, even love, for their selfish desires.

In truth, she should have seen it before.

Aleksander Morozova should have been a clear danger for her heart right from the moment they met in that dark tent where she wondered how anyone could be comfortable in such an environment. A powerful, handsome man with a silver tongue and a weakness for her had seduced her by simply paying attention. He looked at her like no man ever before – like she was the only one for him, a source of eternal sunshine.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be deceived.

A woman with trust issues and a fear of darkness fell in love with a man who was darkness incarnated. He embodied all she dreaded and yet she couldn’t see beyond the mask of perfection he always kept in place. A part of her wondered if he ever showed who he truly is in those intimate moments they shared.

Throwing his head back, Aleksander laughed. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath before it quaked with a new laugh erupting from deep inside.

“It’s not funny!” She pouted, trying to glare at him as if the sound of his laughter didn’t make her feel like she’s in a dream.

“You know I adore that pout”, Aleksander smirks, pinning her against the wall.

Breathless, her lips part just in time for Aleksander’s to take advantage. He gave a low, throaty chuckle once her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees. His mouth never leaves hers as he carries her to the bed. He abandoned her lips only to press them on her neck and she couldn’t believe how easily he swayed her.

Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, greedily, ready to feel him inside her, around her, to completely numb her senses.

“Aren’t we eager today”, he teased her as he slowed down, determined to drawl out every moment he had with her.

“I can either be angry with you for laughing at me”, she trails off, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Or you can make me forget about the poor Grisha I flashed in your map room.”

Growling, he inhales sharply, “As amusing as it was to see you both scream, I prefer when you scream for me when we are alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I wanted to be spontaneous! How was I supposed to know someone else would be in the room?”

He picked up a lock of her hair from across her neck and held it up, letting the dim light of the fireplace play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips.

For the first time he could ever remember, he was completely content.

“What do you want us to do?” Ivan asks, finding the change in his general terrifying. He could see the Darkling is enraged, losing control and a Grisha powerful as he is could be lethal in such circumstances.

“You’ll do nothing”, Aleksander snapped as he mounted his horse. “I will go after her.”

He looks to his loyal Grisha with narrow eyes, aware he’ll return undoubtedly changed by whatever transpires inside the fold. Whether he returns with his Sun Summoner in hand or with her body in his arms, the Darkling would be different.

During his time with Y/N, Aleksander relied on her for happiness he long forgot about. He held onto her for as if she was all he had and she still abandoned him. They all do so once they see how far he’s ready to go in order to protect those he loves – his people….and her. He would have done anything for her.

This is his kingdom, but she’s not his queen anymore.

“We shall await for further instructions at the camp.”

Nodding, Aleksander turns away from them with a dark look on his face. For the first time since he created the fold, he will step inside and he didn’t know who would emerge victorious. If he dies, he won’t be around to care, but if she does? He was sure he will never be whole again.

He kissed the corner of her mouth boldly, waiting for a sign of resistance. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender. 

Seeing her so, Aleksander smirked before he kissed her cheek, her ear lobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers and she drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood how strange such affection is to her.

“Someone will see us”, she whines.

Shrugging, Aleksander’s smile grows wider, “Let them see.”

“Don’t you have a reputation of a hardass to preserve?” Her lips press into a thin line as her eyebrows rise, tantalizing him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him.

Parting in desperate need of a proper breath, he looks at her rosy, swollen lips with complete resignation.

“My reputation means nothing to me when you’re with me. You are what I want my reputation to be.”

Panting, Y/N felt like her lungs would explode. She had been running from the edge of the fold, deep into the darkness she once feared. She ran because she wasn’t sure if Aleksander was furious enough to disregard his own safety by following her inside.

Lips quivering, she pulls out the flask Mal packed for her. Taking a sip, she frowns at the watered down taste of alcohol. She made it clear she wanted nothing but water, yet Mal disregarded her wish. Shaking her head, she smiles anyway. If Mal was with her, she’d thank him for the liquid courage. She’d have agreed to a bottle of whiskey now, lost in the dark.

Swept away in her thoughts, she gasps at the growling in the distance. Her heart nearly stops as a dark, looming shadow passes above her. She whips around as the growls come from behind her as well.

She passed sixteen markers, but she hoped to get to the eighteenth. She planned to get as close to the middle as humanly possible, but wasn’t this just it? If she kept going, nothing could guarantee her safety and she was deep enough inside the fold to at least try. 

Every night she laid awake in the past year was spent with her strengthening her light, her control. 

This was it – she could do it. 

She had to do it.

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N folds her hands before her. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as she parts her hands at the palms.

“I wouldn’t do that”, a painfully familiar voice sounds and her eyes open wide.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She laughs, unable to stop herself. It’s a laugh made from pure anxiety and hurt, one that made her feel like she’s mad. Her habit of laughing when she feels like she’s got nothing left to lose came rarely; the first time it happened was when she learned her parents have succumbed to the very fold she’s in now. She reckoned this would be the last time.

“I don’t want to but, if you do not submit to me –“, Aleksander starts, coming closer slowly as if she was a doe and he the hunter. Every sudden move could frighten her and he didn’t want to face what happens in that case.

“Kill me if you must but I will not submit to you, or any man who wears his crimes like crown jewels!”

Raising her voice had drawn the Volcra, the growling growing louder.

"Is it so wrong for me to want to save you?" Sniffling, Y/N swallows thickly. She couldn’t cry anymore, there were no tears left to cry. She’s dry, inside out. “Things could have been different, you know? You didn't have to fall so far.”

Lifting his chin, Aleksander took a step further in her direction. Catching the slightest shake of her head, he pauses, arms raised in mock surrender.

“You made me love you”, he speaks through gritted teeth, “To depend on you.” He clenches his jaw, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re trying to take the last piece of my sanity with you.”

“You don’t have to do this”, she tries meekly, “We can still be magnificent. Be the man I fell in love with, please.”

“And then what? We’re supposed to play house while they’re killing our people?!” Aleksander spat, barely holding himself back. “They wouldn’t stop until they kill you right before me and any children we might have!”

Eyebrows knitted together, Y/N’s mouth opens at the words spoken. There was a moment when Y/N realized she’d misinterpreted her darling Darkling’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met… as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand… that moment was the moment her heart broke…She could hardly speak in her shock when she learned he had lied to her, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

“Children”, she breathes out as a smile forms on her lips, one he found confusing.

All this time, Aleksander had been using the fold as a way to protect his people and yet, he failed to realize it is exactly what they need to destroy.

“We don’t need the fold”, her smile widens, “You are the fold, my darling Darkling and I am your Sun.” Her lips quiver, her entire body trembles and she still comes closer to him without fear. “With the two of us, we can create and destroy this fold anywhere in the world and today is our chance to demonstrate our power to all those who’d dare to defy us!”

Lips parting, he shakes his head. “What are you saying”, he sneers, still angry at her for defying him.

“I’m saying it doesn’t have to be one way or the other”, she chuckles in disbelief, “We can both destroy the fold and win this war. Every war.”

The growling is near, close enough for the hair to stand on the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Don’t”, he orders as her hands touch, “Don’t you dare!”

Shakily lifting her head, Y/N smiles, "I love you".

Before he has time to comprehend the weight of her words, his world was set aflame by a blinding light exploding all around him.

She screamed out as a bright light emerged from her entire being, enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. It is the kind of brightness that enchants the eyes to open all the wider as it warms the skin.

She never felt the warmth like this, not even when Aleksander’s lips gave her breath or when his arms gave her a reason to believe in him. This warmth is different, like the sun had incorporated itself into her soul and is finally shining through.

She looks to her hands, opening the fists that glow an ethereal light force she never experienced. Her light is like sunlight, it comes as woven strands, free and united, and flowing as it reveals and solidifies, making the world of nightmares around them into something so beautiful. 

Her eyes meet Aleksander’s dazed gaze, her smile wide but his lips are set in a firm line. 

She could feel her soul ripping as she pushed the light further from them, toward the edges. The pressure in her head grew, erasing the smile from her lips. Her legs barely kept her standing as she stumbles. She could feel a wet liquid running from her nose to her lips, the metallic taste making her eyes widen.

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up!” Aleksander shouts, trying to make her see sense but she shakes her head.

“I have to do this! For us!”

He could see a vein pulsating across her forehead, the blood gushing from her nose and it slowly became clear to him – he might not have been able to kill her, but seeing her like this convinced him he doesn’t have to. She’ll do it all on her own.

Reaching for her, his hands wrap around her wrists firmly. “I love you too”, he rests his forehead on hers, amplifying her power. He could feel her smile for a split second before she closed her eyes.

Gasping for air, she felt her insides burning and before she could stop herself, Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream echoed in the fold, effectively stopping his heart in fright.

As her scream dies down, Y/N goes limp in Aleksander’s arms.

Her light disappears, another one taking its place as he lowers to his knees, holding her close to him. Looking up, he almost cries as the blue skies above shine a light on his face. 

“You did it”, he croaks, shaking her slightly. “Solntse? Solnechnyy svet?!”

Unmoving, Y/N laid in his embrace as if she had simply fallen asleep, but Aleksander knew she was hanging by a thread.

“Lyubov’?” His voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, his fingers clutching the fabric of her kefta…He didn’t even realize she kept it. 

She must have put it on inside the fold, he realized.

Now, in the light of day, he finally saw the black kefta he ordered to be made for her – black with golden traces of the light she brought in his life. It was fitting she’d be given powers of light for she was the embodiment of lightning, illuminating stormy skies he couldn’t navigate through. Not on his own.

“Wake up”, he whispers. “I need you”, the raspiness of his voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside his chest.

“I can’t survive without you”, he bowed his head down, a choked sob escaping him.

“I love you.” Aleksander whispered into her chest, breaking down when she didn’t say it back. Y/N always chose to say ‘I love you’ instead of goodbye, explaining goodbye was the last thing she ever wanted to tell him and he understood now. He never wanted to tell her goodbye, but maybe that’s necessary too. Maybe life is about learning a better way to say goodbye, learn to let go of the ones you love with nothing but love.

“Aleks”, she tries but the words are stuck in the back of her throat as her need to breathe becomes direr.

“Saints!” He presses his lips as he looks up at her, just as breathless as he was the day when he first saw her. “What can I do? Tell me how can I help you?!”

“All this time I’ve blamed you”, her hand rests upon his cheek, “For pulling me into the dark”, she pauses, “But I was wrong.” Wetting her lips, she manages a small smile, “It was me who brought out your dark side.”

She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the ring he gifted her with a crooked smile.

“None of it matters now”, he rests his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am and I never want to feel like this again.”

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Gladly”, she chuckles as he helps her sit. None of her hate for him remained. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on and she finally settled on a side – his side.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life, to put his heart on the line time and time again after all the times she walked away. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

“I love you”, he kisses the palm of her hand, giving her enough time to say it back.

“And I love you. I promise you, we will be unstoppable. Together, hand in hand, nothing will dare stand in our way.”

As soul meets soul in a lover’s kiss, the two embrace in the midst of a desert made of ruin they would find a way to rebuild. Their story is far from over, but this time around, they’ll write it together – as equal parts of a whole.

 Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @subjecta13-thefangirl @aquamariene-me​ @savannah-elliott @auggie2000 @daybleedsintonightfa11 

[caramelcal]

His Favorite Girl

a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?” 

STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah

i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol

sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x 

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...

“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”

“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.

“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.

His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.

She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.

They seemed fun.

Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.

“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.

She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.

“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.

He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”

“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.

He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.

“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”

“Like an hour, baby. Why?”

However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.

He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”

His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.

He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.

To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.

“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”

Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.

Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.

Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.

“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”

Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.

His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.

“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.

Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.

“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.

He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.

“Luke what’s going on?”

“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.

However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.

. . .

“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”

“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.

“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state. 

They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.

Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.

Maybe it was.

Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.

This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.

She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.

God, he loved her.

“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.

Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”

Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.

Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.

Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”

With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.

“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”

“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.

He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”

She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”

“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.

He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.

“Fuck, Bambi,”

Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.

Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”

“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”

His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.

The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?

Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.

Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.

Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.

“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.

“Lu-”

“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.

“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.

“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”

And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.

[loth-wolffe]

If you are still taking requests from the song list, I believe it was 41, but if not I know it was “They Dont Know About Us” by One Direction.

And I was wondering if you could do it for Crosshair perhaps?? Like reader and him are in a relationship and the rest of the batch doesn’t know because they up hold an “I hate” cover around them still??

-🌪

hIYA! (a million years later, sorry @ 🌪️), bUT HERE IT IS. also, I think it took an different turn from the actual ask at the end?? and I don't know if this is what you had in mind, but I tried to keep the feeling of the song more than trying to use the actual lyrics, so uh,,,,,,, I hope you like it!

They don't know about us

Pairing: Crosshair x reader (no y/n)

Prompt: 41. They don't know about the things we do, they don't know about the I love you's. - They don't know about us by One Direction

Word count: 1,4k

Warnings: none. just a trashy ending as usual 😌

It's always sneaking around with him; in the middle of the night as the others sleep, either on the Marauder or back in Kamino, he would always find a way to get to you, quiet steps making their way to you in the darkness, as if every path would lead to you.

Cold hands always holding you from behind, close to his body, either on your way to the 'fresher or in the bunk of your quarters, and he would inhale your scent, the smell sweet shampoo he always took a moment or two to breath in, and he would whisper in your ear a "hi" or a "miss me?" before pressing the faintest of kisses on your temple and turning you to face him, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss that would leave you breathless, an ardent touch, so needy and urgent that made you sigh and feel like jelly as your fingers get lost in the short locks on the nape of his neck, sometimes tugging, sometimes scratching oh so softly, grunts and empty promises leaving each other's lips.

You could swear every time he kissed you, you died and came back to life in the blink of an eye, in the smallest of breaths, in the quickest way possible only to find him again, and again, and again, in the very same position, hearing the same words, feeling the same touch, and yet again, never seeming to get tired of it, of him, of how he feels pressed against you or how long, calloused fingers left goosebumps in their wake, how your knees felt weak with every exploration of his tongue and how intoxicated he left you, making you dizzy and heart pounding wildly in your chest, two beats away from leaping out and fall straight into his hands.

But he always left you wanting more, having to wait till the night fell, and leaving before the sun rises.

It was only in the shortest period of time when you could have him, in the dead hallways or in the darkness of your room, away from prying eyes and whispers that might know what you two are up to, afraid they find it was nothing but a facade how you two acted around each other when the sun shone bright.

A never ending bicker over the simplest of things, eye rolls and tired huffs thrown at each other along with sarcastic comments, an act in which the two of you played your part so well since you met no one could think it was just that, an act, and neither you or Crosshair knew how to stop. And when it was for your eyes only, you showed something else, a vulnerability and a kindness people could only joke about you two having, whispering confessions on each other's skin so low and so soft sometimes you don't believe you heard them right.

Still, there were times where you wanted to say them out loud, scream them at the top of your lungs as you held his hand on the way to the Marauder or maybe just confess it in a murmur as you kiss him goodbye, whisper a be careful followed by an I love you when you had to stay behind. Wishing to place your head on his shoulder as you fell asleep after a hard day and for him to kiss your forehead while muttering a sweet dreams, I'll be here when you wake up and have the certainty that he will.

"We could tell them." You had muttered once, when his head rested on your chest and your fingers played with his hair.

"Sneaking is fun, though." You hummed, mind absent as you think in the possibilities.

Sneaking is fun, and there is a thrill you can't get so easily from other things, the rush and adrenaline you get from the mere thought of being caught is something else, truly, but there's an ache too, of a secret that burdens your heart because all it wants to do it's to scream out loud that it's taken and in love.

He met your eyes, and you kissed his forehead.

"We'll get in trouble if anyone finds out."

And you know that, so you kept from saying anything else, there's no way around this, much less with trying to change Crosshair's mind, so you just nodded.

"I know."

But you end up forgetting, breaking the unspoken promise of keeping it for yourself, exposing it all without second thought, an action so natural that you didn't notice until the tense silence caught up with you, Crosshair's little smirk assuring you it wasn't as bad as what you thought it would be if anyone ever found out, eyes glinting with a special something that let you know you were good.

He was close to the breaking point too.

A kiss is what betrays you.

It happens after a mission, when you thought everyone but Hunter were in the cockpit, and you were tending an ugly cut in Crosshair's chest.

"You need to stop moving," you say under your breath as you try to apply bacta on his chest.

"I would if you stopped moving." He grumbles, and you sigh, giving him a look, and it's just the beginning of another silly argument with him.

"I would if Tech did a better job piloting."

"Well, that's not my fault."

"Neither is mine!" But before he can make a remark, Hunter passes behind you.

"Cut it off you two," Hunter orders as he passes to the cockpit and you roll your eyes along with Crosshair, a smirk making its way into both of your lips and you shake your head.

"You heard the Sarge, cut it off." And his smile widens, eyes narrowing in a silent challenge and you know the action well and what comes with it.

"Why don't you make me?"

And you look at him for a second, forgetting for a moment where are you and who's around you, his amber eyes and light smirk overshadowing every coherent thought as you take the bait.

In your defense, you did think you were alone, so it's what pushes you to smile to yourself while murmuring a "you asked for it" before sitting on his lap, his hands flying to your hips by inertia and you don't see his smug expression before you kiss him hard, sloppy, taking his breath away with the action as he lets a surprised gasp on your lips and you try to hold back a triumphant smile.

When you pull away, his eyes shine with adoration and something you can't place just yet as you smirk, pecking his lips before going back to apply bacta on his wound.

There's a loud "finally", you that makes you freeze, head snapping towards Crosshair, alarmed, but he only looks relaxed, a cocky expression on his face as he shrugs, as if it was something destinated to happen, and glances to the person behind you, you turn your head to the side to find the four boys looking straight at you.

Wrecker looks disgusted, Tech's not impressed and Echo and Hunter have the smugest smiles you have ever seen.

Your cheeks heat up and you'd do anything to leave right then and there or maybe if you could just simply disappear, but Crosshair's grip is keeps you in place, not letting you move from his lap. If anything, he tightens his hold.

"We don't know who you tried to fool, you weren't exactly subtle." Echo says, but you were subtle, and it makes you wonder, before you can ask about it, Tech quickly continues as he tries to reassure,

"But don't worry, we won't tell anyone if that's what you were afraid of."

Your face reddens and your voice fails when you say thank you, and Crosshair gives Tech a sharp nod, and there's a conversation unknown to you as they look at each other that ends with the others nodding as well.

"We're happy for you," Hunter eventually lets out, understanding flashing through his eyes before he adds, " but next time avoid the whole make out session, we don't need that." And the smirk in his voice, makes you groan before hiding your face in Crosshair's neck while he chuckles softly.

"Yeah! It's disgusting!"

You visibly cringe and that's the last you hear before everyone begins to scatter around the ship, Crosshair tires to soothe you with making lazy patterns on your back with his fingers and he kisses your temple before your eyes meet, he brushes your hair from your face as he mutters the quietest you've ever heard him,

"No more hiding."

With a fluttering heart, you grin widely.

"No more hiding."

Taglist: @foodandbooksplease @dottiechan @ladykatakuri @tacticalsparkles @murdertoothpick @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @weirdcharacter

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Delivery Day (Leviathan x GN!Reader) FLUFF

It's another fluff night, with Levi! It's been a while since I wrote for him, and I wanted to make this soft and sweet because he deserves it.

Word Count : 1.9K

Warnings : Slight jealousy from Levi;

“Did it come in yet?!” He shouted as he bounded down the stairs, coming to a halt at the landing when he saw you and Beel walking in the door together. “Oh… I guess not…” His purple hair curtained around his face as he looked down at his feet, awkwardly shuffling them to hide the fact that he was so obviously jealous. “I’ll be up in my room.” He muttered, turning his back and walking back up the stairs. The whole thing happened so quickly that you didn’t even have a moment to talk to him.

Levi was your best friend. You did everything together, unless it involved leaving the house, but he always told you that there was no reason to actually step foot outside the front door, that he had everything the both of you needed up in his room. If it wasn’t there, he’d just order it on Akuzon and get same day shipping. He was adorable in the sense that he never wanted you to leave his side, and although the two of you weren’t an item and you weren’t dating, he would get immensely jealous if you ever did anything with any of his brothers. Hence why he’s acting the way he is now.

“Were you not supposed to go grocery shopping with me?” Beel was a sweetheart, and out of all the brothers, he was the least likely to actually purposely try to drive a wedge between you and Levi. He cared about you, and if Levi was upset, that also meant that you’d be upset too. Not only did he care about you, but he cared deeply about all of his brothers. He’d never do anything to hurt Levi, and seeing his brother so happy brought him joy as well. “Maybe I should talk to him…”

You shook your head, knowing very well that Levi wouldn’t want to hear it from Beel. He’d want to talk to you about it. Levi didn’t want to seem weak in front of his brothers, even if all of them knew that he was the avatar of envy, showing his jealousy to his brothers over you was just… embarrassing to him. “I’ll talk to him. You know how he gets.” Beel hummed in agreement, grabbing the grocery bags out of your hands so you could go up to Levi’s room and ease his mind.

It was clear that he was agitated, something that he’d never actually voice to you. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was, the sound of his keyboard clicking gave it away. He’d always press the keys a little harder, slam the mouse down when he got too close to the edge of the mousepad. His huffing and puffing was just an added factor to let you know just how agitated he really was. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, hoping that he could hear you over the headphones that you already knew he was wearing. “Go away. I’m busy.” You sighed loudly as you leaned your head against the door, knocking again. “I said go away!” He shouted, and you heard the mouse slam back down on the desk. He wasn’t going to let you in, and you weren’t just going to let him angrily sulk in his room for the rest of the night, so you decided to just let yourself in.

“Too busy to talk to me?” You asked as you walked into the room, leaning against the wall next to his desk. He looked up at you once, huffing quietly before turning back to his screens. At least he had kept his headphones off, so maybe he’d listen to you, even if he didn’t say anything back. “You don’t have to talk… I can talk.” You mumbled, but it would be better if he at least replied once, or maybe even nodded. “I don’t know why you’re acting like this. I went to the store to get groceries for dinner.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to him, but maybe it’ll ease his mind a little, even if the grocery bags were very noticeable. He needed that reassurance, which wasn’t really a problem, but also, you weren’t actually together so this shouldn’t even be a big deal to him.

He pulled the headphones off completely and turned his chair to face you in one swift movement. You could see the hurt, the anger in his eyes. He was upset about this, and even though it didn’t make sense to you, the feelings made sense to him. “You went with Beel!” His shouting kind of threw you off, it actually made you jump a little. It was different from him shouting at you from behind the door, now that you could see his face, you could actually see how serious he was. You being with Beel not only upset him, it pissed him off. “You’re always going somewhere with one of them when you could be in here with me! Why?!” His question almost made you laugh, and you would have if you weren’t worried about how he’d react. He was still a demon after all, and the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off more.

“I like getting out of the house sometimes, Levi.” You sighed quietly, slowly taking a couple steps closer to him, reaching out to place your hand on his shoulder. “Just because I go shopping with them or leave the house with one of them, it doesn’t mean I don’t like spending time with you.” That should have been clear to him considering you came up to his room to make sure he was alright immediately. “You don’t like leaving the house… You don’t even like leaving your room. I’m not going to ask you because you’re just going to tell me to order whatever it is that I want or need off of Akuzon.” He didn’t like hearing that, mainly because you were right, but things were also a lot easier when everything could just be delivered. He rolled his eyes, and you could see the small pout forming on his lips. “You can go out shopping with me next time if you’d like?”

“It’s not just that…” He mumbled, and you could see the blush forming on his cheeks, his hands folded on his lap as his thumbs twirled over one another. “I don’t like seeing you with any of them.” He was quiet, and it almost seemed like he didn’t want you to hear him say that. His avatar was shining through more than ever right now. “I mean… What if one of them likes you? What if one of them makes a move on you or asks you out? What about me?” He was so bothered by this, his legs were bouncing, it seemed like he couldn’t keep still. This was something that was eating away at him, and if he had just talked about it sooner with you, you could have put the whole thing to rest. Instead, he waited for all of his feelings to pile up until they all boiled over, and there was no need for it.

“Levi, in case you didn’t realize… I don’t like any of them. I like you.” His body kind of froze up when you said it, and you could hear a small noise which sounded a little like a squeal rise up out of him. “I want to go shopping with you… I want to leave the house with you. I like being with you, Levi.” The squeal got a little louder as he finally turned his head to look up at you, his cheeks now burning a bright red, and the look of anger and sadness in his eyes had changed to something between confusion and adoration.

“M-Me? Are you sure?” You let out a small snort before nodding your head. The Levi that you came to know and love was back in all of his nervous, slightly awkward glory. It was funny that he had been so hell bent against you being with any of his brothers in any type of way, but once you told him that you wanted to be with him, as if he was giving you any other option, now he’s confused and questioning you. “I guess… I was waiting for something to come in… but… because I wanted to make it special…” You raised one of your eyebrows at him, not really knowing what he was getting at, but you were pretty sure that he’d explain, or at least get to what he was leading up to. He finally got up from his chair, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. You could feel that he was shaking, and sweating a little. His palms were clammy, and you wanted to tell him to calm down, but you worried that doing so would make him back out from whatever he was doing altogether. “The delivery can wait… I just… I really like you, Y/N… A lot… and I want you to be… w-with me… I want you to be my human.” He took a deep breath after saying it, like it had taken everything out of him to even say that, and for him it probably did. At this point his face was redder than a tomato, and it seemed like he was holding his breath waiting for you to respond.

You didn’t want to keep him waiting because in all honesty, you had been waiting for him to ask for such a long time, you didn’t want to keep yourself waiting either. You were beyond happy, ecstatic even, and you couldn’t even find the words to say in the moment, so you did the only thing you could think of doing to show him that you wanted to be his. You pulled your hands away from his and quickly moved them up to cup his face, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. He wasn’t expecting it, and his lips parted slightly as he let out a small gasp, but he moved his own hands to your hips, pulling you a little closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You weren’t expecting it from him, but he had probably been waiting for this to happen, and it was probably much better for him than having to make the move himself.

By the time you pulled back, you both were breathless, and he seemed a little dazed. It was adorable, he was adorable, and as much as you would have liked to, you had to keep yourself from kissing him again just for being so damn cute. “So what was it that y-”

The knock on the front door came, loud and rhythmic. You saw his eyes light up, his head whipping towards his closed bedroom door. “It came in!” He ran to the door, turning to face you quickly as he stepped out. “Pick something to wear… We’re going out!” You shook your head as you watched him move out of view, running down the hall to get whatever it was that he had been waiting for. Things had started off rough, but maybe it was just the way it was supposed to play out. Maybe if you had never gone to the store with Beel, Levi would have never felt the need to actually ask you… or maybe he had been planning this all day. You’d never really know, but in the end, you both had each other.

[ghostdrew22]

Waves || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No


Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader


Warnings: none really, just so much fluff I think my heart almost exploded


Summary: Draco continuously finds himself breathless at the amount of love he holds for you because his love for you comes in waves.

WORDS : 1480

~

“Y/N, do we have to do this?” Draco groans as you drag him through his mother’s garden.


“Yes, I promised your mother that I’d check on her garden everyday while they’re gone.”

“I don’t think she took you seriously when you said that.”

“Seriously or not, I’m doing it.” You say sternly as you stop in front of the daisies to water them- spritzing them with water carefully and attentively to ensure that no one flower gets more love than the other.

He watches you in silence and admiration- adoring how considerate you are with one of his mother’s most prized possessions- and an immense surge of love for you overcomes him without warning. The sun makes your eyes twinkle gently and your yellow dress just makes you look positively radiant. He gulps and sits down on a nearby bench to ground himself- trying to resist the urge to beg you to marry him on the spot- but you mistake his disorientation for frustration and turn to him with a sigh.

“If you really hate this so much then you can return to the Manor, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He almost laughs at how wrongly you’ve interpreted the situation and smiles up at you brightly, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” You furrow your eyebrows at him- confused at how quickly his demeanor has changed- and he shakes his head softly in response.

“No, I want to be right here with you.”

“Too bad.” You turn away from him with a mischievous grin and walk further away as you approach the roses.

“Why?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I was already used to the idea of you being gone.” You look behind you and catch his gaze with a smirk, “Your voice is a bit annoying after some time.”

Draco leaps out of his seat immediately and you yelp and drop the water as you start to run away from him. Your giggles fill his ears as he trails a few paces behind you- following you as you run into the meadow that’s behind the Malfoy Manor- and he has to struggle to focus on his steps instead of the rapid beating of his heart at the beautiful sound.

“I’m sorry!” You cry out as you start to run down the declining meadow and toward the river that runs at the bottom.

“Too bad!” He shouts back- using your own words against you- and you can’t help but laugh out as you reach the bottom and turn behind you to look up at him.

“Come on, you know you want to forgive me.” You pout up at him- squinting your eyes at the sun in your eyes- as he stands at the top of the little hill and stares down at you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you standing there. Your hair tied up and exposing your collarbone to the sun’s rays, your bright smile shining up at him, your frame melting into the nature that surrounds you-from the tall weeds of unkept grass to the tiny purple flowers that are sprouting from the ground. It’s all too much for him and he has to sit down on the ground quickly before his knees buckle from under him.

Alarm consumes you and you quickly run back up the hill to find out what’s wrong with him. “Dra-“

“Marry me.” He blurts out before you can even finish asking him what’s wrong and your eyes widen in shock.

“What?” You ask with a laugh and he takes a deep breath before repeating himself.

“Marry me.” It’s not a question, nor is it a demand, it’s more of a desperate plea and you can tell by his tone that his throat is dry- almost if the words have been sitting on the tip of his tongue and running back down into his lungs for so long that they’ve rubbed his throat raw.

“Where’s this coming from?” You ask with a furrow of your eyebrows as you plop yourself down next to him.

Your knees bump against his and he sucks in a large amount of air at the contact. It’s such a simple movement but it has all the hairs on the end of his neck standing up like he’s a tiny schoolboy- he may as well be when you’re around… You touch him and it makes him immensely giddy- as if you haven’t touched each other a million times before, as if you haven’t touched each other more intimately before. Not that it’s ever any better when you two are tangled in between the sheets together- a mixture of love and limbs tied together so perfectly that it always makes him feel as though you two were made for each other.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for months. I’ve tried to keep it in but nowadays my love for you is always overflowing and the words are just banging against my head all the time.” He answers you honestly- not afraid to pour his heart out anymore after months of keeping it in.

“We’re just 16, we still have school an-“

“I know… I know…” He cuts you off and looks down in embarrassment- suddenly realising how ridiculous it was of him to bombard you with such a request. “It was stupid of me to bring it up, I’m sorry.”

You drop a few fingers below his chin and bring his face back up to look into your eyes and smile, “I never said I wouldn’t marry you.”

“Y/N-“

“I love you so much, why wouldn’t I marry you?” You pull him toward you and crash your lips together. He releases a happy sigh and melts into you- bringing his own hands up to cup your face.

Kissing you is like fire to him- it burns bright and furious and courses through his veins until all he can think or feel is your lips against his own- he’d do it forever if he could. There is nothing he hates more than when you pull away from him and he often finds himself feeling embarrassed at how quickly he jumps to chase after your lips- like you’re water and he can’t live without you. And maybe that’s the fact of the matter, he cannot live without you. Because he could have everything- money, good grades, house elves at his beg and call- but it would mean nothing if your laugh wasn’t the sound filling his ears every single day, if your touch wasn’t the one burning itself into his skin every single night.

“I love you.” He breathes out against your lips- not stopping too long to speak and immediately resuming the kiss.

Sometimes he forgets, just how much he loves you, but you always do something that reminds him before he can stray too far away from his adoration for you. In simple terms, his love for you comes in waves- filling him up all at once, repeatedly, and at a force so harsh that it almost always knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s when you read to him before you fall asleep, when you hold his hand on the way to breakfast, when you insist on hyping him up before Quidditch games, when you tell him terrible jokes that he can’t resist laughing at just because you tell them, when you make continuous effort with his friends and family, it’s every single thing you do.

“I love you.” He breathes out again as another wave encapsulates him. His love for you fills him up in every way possible, like it’s climbing up his lungs until they’re full and he can no longer breathe. His love for you is intoxicating, suffocating really, but it’s so exquisite that he wouldn’t want to have it any other way. What good is oxygen when all he wants to breathe in is the scent of you forever?

“I love you.” He whispers one last time as you both pull away and rest your foreheads against each other- eyes locking and breathless pants meeting inbetween you both.

“After school,” You start after a few minutes of regaining your breath, “After we graduate let’s get married, right here in this meadow.”

“Y/N, I would marry you in an abandoned basement, all I care about is that we’re both there.”

Your heart wrenches at his words and you pull him for another short kiss- much to his dismay- before telling him again, “I love you so much.”

And there it is again, a wave of love for you that’s so strong it makes him close his eyes and take a moment to breathe. The waves are relentless- they’re every single moment he gets to spend with you and he can never get enough of them. You’re intoxicating and every single time he thinks that he’s felt all the love he could possibly feel for you, another wave crashes against him.

<~>

I simp so hard for this man. Please leave me requests because I need something to keep me occupied while I wait for universities to get back to meeeeee.

I’m probably going to write something for one of the Weasley’s soon because argh I love them all and would not hesitate to let any of them rail me-

anyway that’s all...

jean

<3

[manonblaqkbeak]

Worth It

Hello, I’m back for Day 3, a secret relationship. I’m so happy that you guys liked the first prompt, despite the angst lol. This one here isn’t angsty at all, there’s my usual favoured fluff involved, with some Serious Conversations.

Anyway, enjoy!! :)

1.9k words

cw: none

Aelin's mind was buzzing, torn between happiness and nervousness. That was all she could feel ever since the pregnancy test revealed the positive sign over an hour ago and she had just been staring at it since then, wearing nothing but her underwear and one of her favourite hoodies that she had stolen from Rowan long ago.

She and Rowan had talked about children, but had decided that it would be best to have them once things weren't so...complicated. When Aelin would get another job, because all over Rifthold, secretary positions were being offered, but no positions in Rowan's level were being offered.

Because Rowan was her boss, and she was his secretary. And at Havilliard Accounting Firm, office relationships were off the table. If anyone was found out to be in a relationship, it was straight to the HR office for a scolding and a firing; and that the was the absolute last thing that either of them wanted, and since Rowan was her superior, she feared of what would happen to him. Their relationship was equal, there was no manipulation from either side, both of them wanted the relationship and so they decided to be in one.

So Rowan and Aelin dated in secret, keeping their romantic and personal lives out of their professional lives. Which was hard at times, considering that they lived together, and sometimes it was hard to keep a straight face when an unresolved argument was hovering above them, so they had to repeat to themselves about professionalism and boundaries until it was time to go home and fix what problem they were facing at that time.

Aelin hated it, and so did Rowan. It made them feel dirty, like there was something wrong between them, when that was the furthest thing from the truth. When Aelin had first started on the job, she didn't think that she would be with Rowan—honestly, she thought that he was a bit of a bastard, but she got to know him, and found that they had many things in common, and slowly, so slowly, Aelin started to see Rowan in a different light, and when she looked back at that time, she came to the realisation that Rowan had felt the same, that the look he held in his eyes for her were the same as back then.

And once that shared attraction made its appearance, they had fought their feelings for so long, up until a year and a half ago when they had ran into each other at the State Museum on the weekend, had lunch together at the museum cafe and things just went from there.

They made it work, despite the secrecy of it all. Only a few of their friends knew and they promised to keep it to themselves. Absolutely none of the few Whitethorn cousins that worked in the same building knew, as they were complete busybodies and would tell everyone, not at all caring about the circumstances.

None of Aelin's work friends knew either. All they knew was that she was single and not looking for a relationship, that she was focusing on herself before she made any commitments; Rowan had told his work friends something similar.

At first, the secrecy of it all was exciting, like something straight out of the romance novels she adored, but a year and a half later, when they talked about marriage and Aelin had even told him the type of engagement ring she would like, it was becoming tiresome. Aelin just wanted the whole world to know of her love with Rowan, but so far, that was not to be.

Sighing, she wondered back to the now. She supposed she could say that it was the result of a one night stand, but it felt cruel to reduce Rowan to nothing as if was a stranger she fell into bed with and was nothing but a quick fuck after one too many drinks.

Besides, once she had the baby, it would be obvious who the father was. Silver hair and green eyes were dominate in the Whitethorn family, and the chances of her having a silver-haired, green-eyed child was high—it wouldn't take more than two seconds to figure out who the father was, especially if the child inherited Rowan's tanned skin and straight nose.

If the child inherited Aelin's fair skin, her ocean blue eyes, and button nose, however, it might be easier to come up with some story about how someone in Aelin's family had silver hair.

But Aelin didn't want to lie. Didn't want to pass off their child as someone else's.

According to the test, she was seven weeks along, and she was all ready exhausted.

The jingle of keys had Aelin's head snapping up from her seat in the living room, the pregnancy test heavy in her hand.

It was time to tell him. She had to leave work two hours into the day when she was overcome with nausea, and he had kept it professional when he wished her well, but she spotted in the concern in his eyes as he silently asked her if she was okay. Later on, he had texted her, asking if she needed anything from the shops, but she didn't.

Aelin told him she was fine, but now...now she was nervous. Not at all because of Rowan's reaction, but just because of their damned circumstances.

She had never hated the secrecy more until now.

But Aelin made herself smile as he made his way over to her, kissing her on the forehead and asking if she was okay again, once more asking her if she needed him to get her anything. Taking a deep breath, and telling herself that everything would be okay, she clutched the stick in her hand and told him to sit down. He did, his brows furrowed as he looked at her.

Wordlessly, Aelin handed over the test. Rowan took it from her outstretched hand, his eyes wide as he glanced at her, to the test, and then back to her.

“You're pregnant?” he asked, his voice a breathless rush.

Aelin could only nod.

“Fireheart, that's...” he trailed off, Aelin's heart near bursting out of her chest as she waited for his next words, she knew that they'd be positive, but still. Rowan smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing Aelin had ever witnessed. “This is amazing.”

“It is?” The words fell out of her mouth of their own accord. Clearly, she wasn't listening to herself.

Rowan sensed her unease and took her hands in his own, kissing her knuckles as he did. “I know that we've talked about having children later on, but I couldn't be more happy.”

Nodding, Aelin took a deep breath. She was excited too, despite everything. Which was why she said, without a hint of doubt, “I'll hand in my two week notice once I pass the first trimester.”

“Fireheart, I can't ask you to do that,” Rowan said, clutching her hand. “I'll ask for a transfer, and you can stay until you go on maternity leave, and if you still want to quit afterwards and look for work elsewhere, then I'll help you, but you've worked too hard to quit now.”

“Everyone thinks I'm single, Rowan, and I don't want to come up with a horrid about one night stands. We're all ready lying, and I don't want to add more to the pile.”

“The transfer—” Rowan started, but Aelin cut him off.

“You'll just be in a different building, but the company policies will still stand. I know what you're thinking, that in the future I'll resent you and that I'll blame you for making me quit, but I won't. I'm sick of lying, and I know you are too—it's been a year and a half of lies, and with this child are we going to extend that lie for another eighteen years? What if the child is a carbon copy of you? Then all the lies will blow up in our faces. I know you don't think it is, but this is the best option.” Part of her did want to stay, to utilise her maternity leave, but Rowan could be fussy, especially when she wasn't feeling well and if Rowan started fussing over his pregnant secretary then the questions would start flying.

Rowan sighed and was quiet for a long while. “I'm sorry,” he said eventually, “about the lying. I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish that you didn't think you had to quit, but I understand why.” Again, he hated the whole expandable aspect of it all—but annoyingly, it made more financial sense for Rowan to stay and for Aelin to leave.

Rowan really did hate it, but Aelin had clearly made up her mind, and would not change her mind, she was stubborn.

“I know, but Rowan, I don't regret being with you, not for a moment. I just want to start this journey on a more joyful road. I love you, to whatever end.”

Rowan smiled softly at her, his worries easing away just a little bit at their words—their promise to each other. “To whatever end. We'll figure it out.”

“We will.” Deciding that she wanted to be wrapped in his arms, Aelin snuggled against him, breathing in his pine and snow scent, she was close to drifting off, when Rowan cleared his throat. Glancing up at him, he had a smile on his face, and an unreadable look in his eyes. “What?”

“I suppose now would be a horrible time to propose?”

Sitting back in a blink of an eye, Aelin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Rowan Whitethorn, if you propose to me while I'm wearing this shitty old hoodie, I swear to the gods, I will singe off your eyebrows right now.”

“So that's a no?” He asked, his lips twitching, eyes swimming with barely concealed mirth at her. Her own lips wanted to rise in a smile, but she slammed it down.

“It's a no for now. I want to be wearing a nice dress, eating good food—but not in a crowd, you know I hate crowd proposals—with a pretty view—”

“I thought that I was the pretty view?” Rowan interrupted, laughing at the glare Aelin sent his way.

“And I forgot the rest of what I was going to say, but I am not being proposed to on a sofa.”

“Okay, no sofa proposals, I can remember that.”

“Good,” Aelin muttered and returned to his arms. They spoke of their future, of their baby and a list of potential names.

X X X X X X

Rowan proposed six months later at the beach, three months to the day that she had quit, with work being none the wiser, until recently, and they got off scott-free since Aelin was no longer employed there. The sky was a beautiful canvas of pink and peach, the only sounds the crashing of the waves, with no people around.

The ring was the exact one she had picked out long ago—a sparkly emerald with size of her fingernail on a gold band.

And it was exactly as she wished it, her in a nice sundress, with good food and ever-growing pretty views.

Having a secret relationship for a year and a half was exhausting, but well worth it in the end.

[proserpina-magnus]

Omg I need a second part to your James Potter 108 one shot, maybe they could have the kids this time! 🥺

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy!! xo

108: Wishes  [ James Potter ]

Word Count: 1093

[ Warning: pregnant reader, children, baby kicking mentioned, James Potter is the luckiest guy in the world ]

little information before you read, the reader is in her 2 or 3rd trimester of pregnancy, I didn't really go into to much detail of when James knocked you upped. Also, your daughters name are Phemia (Phemia is the shortened name of James mother)  and Bailey. 

You slept in James's embrace, snuggling closer as sunlight shines through the opened curtains. You and your husband denied hearing the creak of your bedroom door open.

You felt the shift of the bed, getting woken up by small jumps made by your 6-year-old daughter, Phemia and your 4-year-old Bailey.

You wiggle out of James's embrace, he was somehow still sleeping through all the movements. You open your arms for your girls, letting them snuggle up for a hug.

"Good morning my loves," you whispered to them, placing a kiss on both of their heads. Bailey giggles, breaking free of your kisses as she stands up shakily to prance around the bed. You watch her closely, making sure she doesn't get too close to the edge.

"Daddy said we could have a picnic today," Phemia tells you, curling up to your body as her head rests on your chest. You run a hand through her hair, rolling your eyes at the sudden plans that were not discussed with you prior.

"Oh did he?" You ask, chuckling. Holding her closer, she moves her head to your pregnant belly.

"Yes, he did! Even the baby's excited, she's kicking" Phemia giggles, her small hand on your stomach as you feel the sudden kick from your baby. You relax back onto the pillows, watching as Bailey stumbles over.

"I wanna feel!" She calls, falling onto her knees as she smiles at your stomach. Her front tooth is missing, a new one growing in. James had struggled to get her to calm down when the tooth first fell out, promising her all types of presents and giving her kisses to make her giggle.

"Daddy! Daddy wake up!" Bailey yells, kicking her feet at Jame's side. His eyes open briefly, rubbing his side as he squints to look at the three (almost four) of you.

"What's going on?" He asked, a bit concerned and sleepy as he rubs his eyes. James is sitting up, squinting his eyes as he looks around the room for an intruder.

"Nothing's wrong, the baby's kicking," you explain to him, a laugh escaping your lips from his reaction. James gives you a lopsided smile, his hair in a tangled mess as he moves closer.

"Oh, good. Does it hurt?" James asked, his hand overlapping Phemia's small one, another kick was felt as James smiled widely. His eyes sparkled, looking down into yours. He was so incredibly happy.

"No, but apparently we're going on a picnic," you tell him, giving a look towards him. He gives a sheepish grin, leaning to kiss your cheek.

"Yeah I forgot to mention, I know how much you love last-minute plans," James teases, he hugs Bailey first, tickling her sides as he becomes a giggling and squirming mess.

"No! Not the tickle monster!" Bailey squeals, squirming against the bed as she giggles and kicks the air.

"Your right, there are two tickle monsters!" You join in the fun, your hands tickling Phemias sides as she starts to squeal and twist to get away. James and you are both laughing your heads off, tickling your daughters until they're breathless.

Bailey makes the cutest little snort of laughter, the sound makes you all start to laugh hysterically. James wipes at his eye, tears almost forming from the giggles.

"Go pick an outfit, I'll be there in a second to dress you," You tell the girls, they comply giving you and James one last hug before skipping to their rooms.

"A picnic?" You asked, watching as James places his glasses on his nose. He leans down to kiss you, hoping to calm you.

"It'll be good to get some sun, it's supposed to be a nice day," He says, his hand coming to rest over your stomach, he smiles proudly at the family he created.

You feel another kick to your stomach, your hand comes to rest over James. You play with his ring, smiling at his adoring features.

"Thank you so much," James whispers, you both can hear the chatting between your two daughters down the hall.

"For what?" You ask, confused as to why he was getting so sentimental.

"For our daughters, you're the love of my love and I can't believe I get to have a family with you," James says, his eyes are glossy as he gives a small sniffle.

"James," you whisper, feeling yourself start to tear up as well. His hand comes to wipe your cheek, giving a small smile as he leans down to kiss your lips gently.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world," he says, leaning down to place a small kiss on your belly. You let out a small sob, emotional from his kind words and mixed hormones.

"Oh James," you mumble, bringing him into a tight hug. Jame is careful not to put pressure on your belly, he was so gentle with you and your children, it made your heart melt.

"I love you," James whispers into your hair, kissing your forehead as he rocks you for a moment. You both pull away, James getting out of the bed as he holds your elbow for support.

"I can get up myself Jame's," you tell him, but He only waves his hand in disbelieve and mumbles a small "nonsense!"

James helps you stand up, you almost want to sink back down onto the bed because of the weight.

"There ya go, love," James coo's as he helps you steady, he talks more to the baby bump than he does to you. You run a hand through his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks as you bring him down for a greedy kiss.

He hums into the kiss, his hands on your sides as he gently pulls you closer, though your moment was Interrupted by Bailey.

"Mummy- don't do that!" She cries, James pulls away with a laugh before going to the bathroom.

"What do you need love?" You asked, making your way over to her. She instantly grabs your hand, pulling you down the hall.

"I want to match outfits with you!" Bailey says, but Phemia is running out of her room quickly at her sister's words.

"What?! No, I want to match with mum!" Phemia argues back and both the girls go into a spiral about who gets to match with you.

Your trying to calm them down, telling them that you all can match. James watches from Your bedroom door, a big smile on his face. He can't believe that he finally got his wish, nothing could make him happier.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse -  A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards. 

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it! 

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together. 

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

-

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”  

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

-

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.  

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."  

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

-

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing: 

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: I think The next post will be the last one for this series!

“Did you...have fun tonight?” The way Dick haltingly asks causes laughter to bubble out of your mouth

“I can say that was nothing like any family dinner I’ve ever seen-“

And if that isn’t the truth, for one - even though you’ve heard of all of Bruce Wayne’s adopted children, you didn’t think there would be so many.

Dick’s the oldest, well officially anyway. Barbara Gordon, as in Commissioner Gordon’s daughter, was at dinner too. Apparently she and Dick had a brief stint where they dated. You’re guessing it was before Dick realized he likes boys - or maybe he likes both? You’ve never expressly asked him about using sexuality.

He’s got three little brothers, the youngest and the second oldest seem to have the highest predisposition towards violence, mostly to each other. And then the second youngest, Tim, he seems to be barely held together, mostly through caffeine and anxiety.

Cassandra from class was there too, as well as Stephanie, which was nice to see. They ducked out halfway through, which should have been your queue to duck out too.

Unfortunately you didn’t, which resulted in a rather poorly placed tomato soup stain at the edge of your dress’s hem.

“I like your brothers though” you say with a smile. You did like his brothers. The youngest, Damian, stared at you for seven very long minutes, before saying-

“How do you feel about animals?” When you told him you loved them he seemed pleased. Also, as a college student, you vibe with Tim. Though you do think someone should cut him off and have him switch to herbal tea. Jason seems cool enough, he just looked at you for a second before giving Dick a wolffish grin.

“Alfred was nice too, and it was fun seeing your- uh...Bruce again” You almost called Bruce his Dad. Bruce is nice, but he’s still a bigot. It was nice meeting Alfred, who showed you many pictures of a nine year old Dick Grayson, most of which were him doing acrobatics around the house. Honestly you thought it was adorable, but you put an end to it since Dick was blushing so fiercely that you thought he might combust.

It really was a lot of fun.

You shiver, the cold night air brushing against your bare arms. You’re standing in front of your building, saying your final goodbyes until you scamper off to your apartment, getting ready for another week of classes.

“Here, take my jacket-“ He’s already tugging it off. Before you can protest, it’s settled over your shoulders. The effect is almost instant, tendrils of warmth seeping into your shoulders and upper body.

It smells like him, you think.

Like- like his expensive cologne, with notes of amber and moss- but also like soap, like clean laundry, and something else, something sweet.

“Cotton Candy” You murmur to yourself. He probably eats it by the gallon sized bag , you think with a giggle.

“T-thank you-“ your eyes trail from the sleeve of his suit jacket to Dick, who’s got a pink tint fanning across his face, blue eyes flicking from the ground to your eyes.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight, and being so kind and considerate and lovely” and then Dick does something completely unexpected, he leans in closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your heart leaps in your chest, his sickly sweet Cotten candy scent floods your senses.

You would just have to tilt you head up slightly to catch his lips in yours. He smells so sweet, it almost makes you dizzy. It’s like being drunk, you think.

You want to smell him more.

“Thank you for being so accepting.” His words are like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. You feel like you’ve sobered right up.

“Of course, we’re friends aren’t we?” You offer Dick a smile, but you know it’s probably strained. You were so caught up in the moment, you forget he’s already in love with someone.

All of his feelings, all of his kisses, they’re reserved for Nightwing.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow” You call out, before walking into your building, feeling Dick’s lingering

So you like Dick.

F*ck.

You’re on the balcony of your apartment, nursing a glass of hot tea in the late night- or would it be early hours of the morning? You can make out the sky beginning to lighten into a lighter blue. Great so you stayed up all night thinking about your feelings.

Your body is going to love you for this.

How did this even happen? Were you just so focused on not getting a crush on either of his sisters that you didn’t see this coming. Ugh why dick of all people? Yeah, sure he’s got those sparkly eyes, and that permanent rosy blush, not to mention that lopsided grin-

Okay so you know why you’re falling in love with him. But there’s no point in nursing these blooming feelings not when-

“Hey do you have any sugar?” The masked crusader asks from beside you. That dazzling smile that makes people everywhere swoon aimed at you.

No point in nursing feelings for Dick, when the object of his affections is standing next to you, drinking earl grey out of your pink “Namaste in bed” mug.

“Or not- no big deal, I love my hot leaf juice with or without sugar.” He adds hastily, taking a loud sip as if to show you how much he’s enjoying your hospitality. You must have let your annoyance get to your face. You sigh, it’s not his fault that Dick loves him.

You’re the outsider here.

“So what are you doing out so late?” You ask, just wanting to make some small talk. But Nightwing lights up like you just offered him a million dollars. He’s so friendly it’s almost annoying, not unlike another certain dark haired golden boy you know.

“I’m always up, fighting crime, patrolling the streets-“ you never realized but being a vigilante is kind of a lot of work huh? You wonder if Nightwing has a day job, he looks so young though- maybe he’s still in school.

“The real questions is why are you still up?” His question is punctuated with a slurp of his tea.

“Just thinking I guess” you shrug, taking a sip of your own tea. You’re not about to tell Nightwing you realized you have feelings for his boyfriend.

“Thinking about the person you love?” It feels like you were just struck by an arrow. Nightwing’s mouth stretches. “No way, I was right?” You can almost picture the sparkle in his eyes behind his domino mask. You wonder what color eyes Nightwing has.

Probably a boring brown.

“Well who’s the lucky individual?” Noting your hesitance, Dick starts to get a little nervous. It hurts a little to think you don’t return his feelings. But there’s something about the shy look on your face, the way your eyes avert to your cup of tea, that’s just hopelessly adorable. What he wouldn’t give to have you look at him that way.

And then, a terrifying thought occurs to Dick.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with Bruce Wayne?” He’s got absolutely no chance if you’re into older men. No unless you’re willing to wait ten years or so.

Then the most amazing thing happens- your mouth opens and laughter spills out. He’s heard you laugh, but never like this. So loud, and almost desperate.

And then, you do something else he’s never seen before. Somewhere along the way those loud laughs transformed into equally loud sobs. Your mouth pinched tight as tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

A hand curls over your eyes in an attempt to cover your face. This is mortifying, you’re basically crying in front of your romantic rival, completely vulnerable.

You’re about to mutter out an excuse, how you’re not usually like this, that you must be close to your period or something. When you feel a pair of arms wrap around your shoulder, your face pressed against Nightwing’s chest.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay” he murmurs reassuringly, his glove covered hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. And even though you were on the edge of recompsure, you’re thrust back into despair. Your sobs leaving you almost breathless as Nightwing continues to hold you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help” Dick whispers. Whatever it is, it must be serious. He’s never seen you cry, not when you were a hostage in that bank robbery, or held at gun point at that restaurant, not even when Damian was basically integrating you all night.

“I love someone, who’s never going to love me back” you manage between sobs, and Nightwing only shushes you. His hand traveling to your hair. Cradling your head against his chest.

He smells so good, like amber and moss, and something sickeningly sweet- like cotton candy.

He smells like Dick.

And that seems to soothe you a bit, along with Nightwing’s gentle warmth.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine, I promise”

“Man, and I thought things were going really well between you guys” Stephanie says, her hand threading through her golden curls, head tilting back so it rests against the back of his couch.

“Yeah, me too” Dick admits with a sigh, he’s sitting with his knees propped up on the floor, his back against the wall.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her eyes are trained on the coffee table, their masks collectively strewn across it.

“So what are you going to do?” Stephanie asks, and Dick sighs again.

“What can I do honestly, they love someone else” he shrugs, he plays it off like it’s not a big deal. But the thought of your with someone else... it makes his stomach hurt.

“Just because she loves someone else right now...doesn’t mean she will forever” Those are the first words Cass has uttered all night, and Dick and Stephanie are both looking at her with wide eyes.

Stephanie’s already hyping him up, saying there’s no way their Dick’s going to lose to some no-face-extra, like your love is some sort of competition to be won.

And Cassandra’s only encouraging her, with energetic nods and the occasional ‘exactly’

But all Dick can think about is the way you felt in his arms, and how small you seemed as sobs wracked through your entire body. How deep your sadness felt, like he might be sucked in any moment too, tears falling from beneath his domino mask.

He hates whoever it is that made you feel that way. If it was him- if you loved him instead, he’d make sure you were never sad, he’d give you everything he was and everything he had if it meant you might smile for him.

He doesn’t want to change your mind, your feelings don’t work like that. All he knows is that he loves you- and what you need right now, is a friend. Someone who-

“Just wants to see them happy” Dick mumbles.

Taglist: @adenspolaroids @libraryoffandomsuniverse @jeneeangella @chyume @masked-mushroom

[lumosinlove]

12/18/20: Day Five

On the fifth day of Ficmas, Hazel gave to yA, SOLNTSE. IN. RUSSI-A.

“Lupin! We’re going to Dante’s for drinks, what do you think?”

Remus looked back at Marlene and Dorcas, over the auditorium seats. Dorcas held up two thumbs.

“Last hurrah before Christmas vacay?” she said.

Remus slung his bag over his shoulder and laughed. “Yeah, Dante’s sounds good.”

“You can bring your hot Russian, if you want,” Dorcas pressed a kiss to Marlene’s cheek. “It can be a double date.”

Remus looked at his phone. “He’s in a meeting until later, but let’s go. We have dinner plans, though, I’ll tell him to come pick me up there when he gets off the subway.”

They left the lecture hall with the rest of the class, filing quickly out the door at the promise of no work for a good month and the weather forecasting first snow tonight.

It was a short, ten minute walk along West 4th Street. Remus could practically smell the coming snow, and he smiled, thinking about walking with Sirius in it tonight after dinner. He thought of Sirius leaving their apartment that morning in his thick green coat, and wanted to see him in the snow.

“Our very own aperitivo,” Marlene sighed, looking at the small spread of meats and cheeses in front of them and taking a loving sip of her drink. “Oh, yes, it’s Christmas.”

Remus popped an olive in his mouth. “It feels like it, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll feel more like it when you’re in Russia,” Dorcas said. “Covered in snow, and furs, and caviar and six-foot-something of dark-haired beauty—”

“Yes, okay,” Remus laughed, trying to shush her and agree at the same time. “That’s probably true.”

“Don’t know about the caviar,” said a voice from behind Remus. “But want to see Remus in furs.”

Remus turned just in time to see Sirius’ teasing smile, cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Only furs?” Sirius said. “Just for me?”

Remus rolled his eyes but tilted his chin up so Sirius could kiss him gently.

Marlene laughed. “Hi, Sirius, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Sirius’ grin was bright and he straightened, keeping an arm around Remus. “Long day of meetings but, all over now, yes? Here for celebration dinner.”

“Well, we got him all warmed up for you. Took us fifteen minutes to get him to stop talking about the final.”

“He get to say it all over again for me, then,” Sirius said. “Will make him very happy.”

Remus rose, drawing his bag over his shoulder. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “We’re going now. Thanks for drinks, Marls, that was really kind of you.”

“Merry Christmas!” Marlene sing-songed. “And happy From-Russia-With-Love trip!”

Remus laughed. “See you guys in the new year.”

“Hi,” Sirius whispered to him as they turned, pushing out the doors and back into the frost.

Remus took Sirius’ hand and brought his gloved knuckles to his lips. “Hi. Как дела?”

Sirius nodded. “Da, today was good. Starving, though.”

“Me, too. Do you know when you’re wanting something, and so waiting just takes ages?”

“Everyday, coming home to you.”

Remus wrapped his hand around Sirius’ arm and leaned up for a quick kiss. “Yes, that.”

“Now I’m take to dinner,” Sirius said. “Then it’s just us. No more waiting.” He glanced up. “Not even for snow.”

Remus saw the first flakes fall onto Sirius’ hat before he felt them himself, nipping at his cheeks.

“No more waiting.”

They sat in a cozy booth, sharing plates and a piece of chocolate cake.

“Sweet,” Sirius said, thumb brushing a smudge of frosting from Remus’ lip. “Remushya always likes sweet.”

Remus just smiled over his glass of wine. “I’m really excited, you know. I’m glad we’re going.”

Sirius nodded, sucking air between his teeth. “Yeah. Hope it…goes good, you know. I really don’t know.”

Remus smoothed a hand over his chest. “I’ll be there if it doesn’t. I’ve been there myself.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, curling his fingers around Remus’. “But not think about yet. First, we have two weeks in dacha. Just us.”

Remus leaned into Sirius’ side, cheek against the soft material of his suit. “Love you.”

“Я люблю тебя,” Sirius said back, lips against Remus’ temple. “Now. Tell me all about final.”

~

The elevator dinged open, and the New York snow looked even more amazing from their large windows. Plush, and falling slowly.

“At least it’s coming now and no during our flight,” Remus said as Sirius helped him out of his coat.

“Have to get up early,” Sirius sighed and wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist. “Then I’m take you to dacha bed and we sleep in.”

“Sleep?” Remus turned his head. “Is that what we’ll be doing?”

Sirius’ laugh was soft against his neck. “Sleep, sex. Wake up, have tea and I’m make you blini with jam and cream. Then I’m put you in nothing but furs on Christmas morning, Merry Christmas to me.”

Remus turned in his arms. “You could put me in nothing right now.” He wound his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “We really should be tired for such a long flight…make it go faster.”

Sirius bit his lip. “Right. That’s true.”

Remus pulled Sirius down and kissed him gently. “Yeah?”

Sirius grinned, walking backwards slowly. “Come now.”

~

Remus was exhausted and exhilarated all at once. He was surrounded by unfamiliar signs in an unfamiliar language. But then there was Sirius. He spoke fast, smoothly, got their bags and ordered to-go cups of tea for both of them, sweetened and milky. Sirius was rumpled and adorable in his white beanie and black puff coat. He had a thick scarf around his nose and his tea held in one hand, suitcase in the other.

“Car waiting,” he said in a sleep-scratched voice. “More sleep.”

Remus pulled his own hat lower over his ears. He could feel the cold from beneath the automatic airport doors. He wished it was light out, but the sun was long set.

“Eleven PM, right?” Remus asked, looking at the time settings on his phone.

“Yes,” Sirius said, taking a long sip of his tea. “We take train now. Take one day. Have our own cabin, I set it all up.” Sirius sent him a smile. “It’s one of my favorite things. Sleeper train to country, get away from cities for a bit.”

Remus tugged his suitcase and smiled. “Wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too, baby,” Sirius said. “Soon.”

The train station was dim and mostly empty, but they were escorted to one of the rear train cars by a woman in a pristine uniform like they themselves owned the train. She opened the door for them, showing them the different compartments of their car—a kitchenette, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a sitting area, all complete with crystal light fixtures and broad, clear windows. She left them with a slight bow and the wooden door clicking closed, silencing most of the train’s noise.

He and Sirius grinned at each other for a moment as they set their bags down. The cabin was soft and inviting, the snow outside glinting as it rushed by.

“Look,” Remus said, pointing to blanket on the couch. “Furs.”

Sirius laughed out loud, tossing their coats to the sides and all but tackling Remus onto the couch. Their kisses quickly went from playful to slow, Sirius’ weight rocking against him with the slight movement of the train.

“Miss you,” Sirius whispered, licking into his mouth. “Even for hour car ride.”

Remus pressed his hands under Sirius’ shirt. “Take this off.”

They shed their winter-cool clothes in favor of warm skin on skin.

“Hm,” Sirius said into Remus’ kiss. “Suitcase. I’m get. Pick a bedroom.”

Remus smiled, stretching out on the couch, cock warm and pleasantly turned on against his hip, before swinging himself up and picking the left bedroom. The bed was tightly made with a white quilt. He glanced back at the main room, smiling at their trail of clothes and Sirius’ bare back bent over the suitcase.

Remus untucked the sheets, fluffing the quilt up near the end of the bed before falling against the pillows with a sigh.

“Are you coming?” Remus called, letting his thighs spread.

“I’m come!” Sirius’ voice said, and he appears in the doorway a moment later. He leaned against it, naked and smiling, eyes raking over Remus. “I’m really come, wow.”

Remus laughed as Sirius stroked himself once, twice, and then walked forward to kneel at the end of the bed. Remus watched him look out the window, beautiful and silver in the night and the moon that silhouetted the trees.

“Looks cold out there,” he said. “Warm in here, though.”

Remus held out his arms and Sirius leaned over him, bracketing him in.

“Come here,” Remus laughed, pushing Sirius’ hips down against his with his heels. “We’re in Russia.”

Sirius let out a soft sound as their cocks brushed together. “You’re my home now, Remushya. Russia is special place but…it’s you.”

Remus pressed closer to him, closing his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ skin on his. They kissed with no hurry, Sirius’ fingers heavy, and then light, and then heavy again, making him pant and push back against his touch. The train seemed to cradle them both, even as Sirius cradled Remus. Sirius’ first press inside Remus was swayed by the rocking of the train, making Remus’ eyes squeeze shut as he clutched to Sirius’ back.

“Remushya,” Sirius’ voice came out strained and breathless, mouth pressed to Remus’ neck. “Yes, yes, baby…”

Remus ran his hands down Sirius’ sides to his ass, feeling the muscles that indented at his hips every time he fucked forward.

“Can we,” Remus curled a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck and scraped his teeth against his jaw. “Harder?”

Remus felt cooped up and stiff from the plane. He wanted—he needed it all out somehow, the nerves about meeting Sirius’ family, the stress and elation of the last semester, his overwhelming love for Sirius that never seemed to yield. He needed it to be explosive, he needed it pressed into his skin.

“I’m do,” Sirius said with a smile. “But have to stay quiet. Can you? Don’t know if you can.”

Remus laughed, biting his lip against the next groan that threatened as Sirius stroked just right inside of him. He nodded. “Please.”

Sirius got his knees under him, his arms under Remus’ back to hold him close. It gave him enough leverage that, the next time he snapped his hips forward, the effect felt doubled. Remus’ head fell back, mouth open.

“Shh,” Sirius said with a soft kiss, and then snapped his hips forward again. He didn’t pick up the pace, but ground in hard each time their hips met.

“Ah,” Remus smothered the sound against Sirius’ neck, breathing harshly. Sirius barely gave him time to catch his breath before he did it again. The soft sheets slipped beneath Remus’ back, but Sirius didn’t let him go.

“So good, Remus,” Sirius panted. “Is good?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus chanted breathlessly. His lips dragged along Sirius’ neck, kissing and relishing. “You’re so—ah—“

“Shh,” Sirius’ laugh ended in a soft moan of his own, and Remus pressed a hand over his own mouth, laughing, too.

“No, no, like to see,” Sirius sat back on his heels, chest broad and tanned in the warm light of the cabin. Remus watched his brows knit as he looked down at where his cock dipped in and out of Remus’ body. “Fuck, so much to see.” He smiled at Remus, bending to kiss his chest before sitting back again and pressing into him slowly. “We get home, I’m make you say everything. No one but us.”

Remus watched as Sirius took hold of his hips and fucked forward again, and again, faster than before. Remus whined softly, his cock red and drooling against his stomach now. Heat spread over his chest, from where Sirius was warm inside of him, heavy and aching.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and Sirius fell forward again, Remus’ heels urging him closer. He tangled his fingers into Sirius’ dark hair, kissing him. Remus’ breath caught, his head falling back as his orgasm built, as Sirius’ cock brushed his prostate over again. He felt swollen against his stomach, balls drawn up. “I’m—”

Sirius jerked, a sound ripping out of his mouth as Remus clenched around him, coming between them without a hand.

“Baby,” Sirius groaned. “Baby…” he fucked Remus through it, more slowly now, dragging and careful as Remus’ cock spat out thick ropes of come. A moment later, Remus felt Sirius’ own heat, heard it in the way Sirius’ breathing stopped and the started again, in the way he pressed hard into Remus to ride it out.

Remus still remembered how this part used to feel. The obligation. The preparing his tired body to get up, get dressed, and walk home.

But the memory was faint now. Now, he was being kissed all over his chest and neck, his eyes closed as he laughed tiredly, hand rubbing the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Better every time,” Sirius’ low voice said, kissing along his jaw. “How you do that?”

“Me? You.”

Remus opened his eyes to see Sirius looking down at him. His hair was a mess from the traveling and the sex, he had tired circles under his eyes and chapped lips, and Remus had never seen anything better, anything brighter.

They couldn’t share the tiny cabin shower, but they managed the bed, squeezed in tight and warm.

Remus fell asleep with Sirius’ front pressed all along his back, and the world just beginning to lighten outside, above the moving landscape of Russia.

When Remus woke again a few hours later, it was to Sirius’ voice in the sitting area, speaking soft Russian. Remus waited until he heard the cabin door close, and then slipped his feet into the slippers that were waiting at the foot of the bed, and pulled one of Sirius’ sweatshirts on before opening the bedroom door.

Sirius was removing lids from dishes on a breakfast tray, set out on the table by one of the large windows. The world was a blissful white forest outside, the sun a watery dot in the sky.

“Wow,” Remus said, looking out. “We’re in Narnia.”

“Narnia?” Sirius laughed. “Oh, right. Cupboard movie. Yes, we meet spy goat soon.”

Remus laughed as he sat, tilting his chin up towards Sirius. “Доброе утро.”

Sirius set the tea he had been pouring down and took Remus’ face between his hands.

“Good morning, Remushya,” he whispered, and kissed him softly.

They pulled into a tiny station a few hours later, and, as Sirius drove a rental car through winding snowy streets, they only met a few small towns. The house they pulled up to, however, if not large, was tall and ornate. It was all white, blending in with the snow, and had carved shutters and trimming.

“It’s like a gingerbread house,” Remus said as they got out, pulling his coat closer against the cold. “Baby, it’s beautiful.”

Sirius beamed and wrapped an arm around Remus, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Just us,” he said when they reached the door, and leaned down for a kiss while turning the key in the lock.

The entrance hall was a blast of warm air and Remus opened his mouth to voice his relief when—

“Sivushka?”

The voice made both of them jump.

There was a boy with dark hair and familiar eyes standing there. Regulus, Remus recognized from photos. Sirius’ brother.

“Regulus?” Sirius said, and in Russian, “What are you doing here?”

Regulus had only opened his mouth to respond when there was another voice from down the hall, and Remus was able to translate those words.

“Reg?” it said. “Who is it?”

A blond boy appeared, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He had the palest blue eyes Remus had ever seen.

“My brother,” Regulus said, still in Russian. “And—someone.”

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked again. He didn’t sound demanding, but almost—whiny. Remus watched a smile pull at Regulus’ mouth.

After that, all Remus caught was family and home. He guessed Regulus was saying that he had just as much right to be there as Sirius did.

“Sirius?” Remus said hesitantly.

“English?” Regulus said incredulously, looking at him.

“This is Remus,” Sirius said, and then hissed a curse back. He looked at Remus again. “So sorry, I…Remus, not know they be here.”

“It’s okay,” Remus shook his head. “It’s completely fine. Do they…”

“No, can’t really understand us. Well, Regulus can’t but…don’t know blond man.” Sirius turned, asking. “Dima.”

“His…” Remus prompted.

Sirius’ expression went surprised, and he looked again. The brothers stared each other down. Remus sent Dima an awkward wave. Dima waved back.

Sirius said something in Russian and Regulus raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

Sirius looked back at Remus. “Friends. Fishing and hunting.”

Remus nodded. “Oh.”

“I really surprise, I…” Sirius huffed out a laugh, but his face went firm again when he looked back at Regulus.

Remus looked around Sirius at the two of them and, in Russian, said, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Remus.”

Regulus and Dima looked at each other, then laughed.

“What are you speaking?”

Remus smiled a little, face flushing. “I know I don’t speak well.”

“Do you have to be so rude?” Sirius sighed, and took their bags. “Did you take the good rooms?”

Regulus shrugged. “Of course, it is just the two of us. Why wouldn’t we?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. “Be right back. Is okay?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Sirius nodded and started trudging up the stairs with the suitcases.

“You may be big in America, but you’re just my brother, here!” Regulus called after him, then looked at Remus, standing alone and shrugging out of his coat.

“English?” Regulus said, in English this time. Remus nodded.

Regulus shook his head, pointing to himself. “Sorry. Dima—”

“I have better,” Dima said. “You are friend?”

“Oh,” Remus stuttered. “Um—”

“Boyfriend,” Regulus said in Russian, and Remus stared at him, trying to gage his reaction.

Regulus waved him off. “He thinks I don’t know.”

“But…you do?” Remus said.

“Yes.”

“You tell him?” Remus asked.

“He will tell me, now,” Regulus turned and walked down the hall.

“Please,” Dima said, and gestured for Remus to follow him.

Regulus looked uncannily like Sirius although, where Sirius was rounded out with muscle and his shoulders broad, Regulus was leaner, his features sharper.

“We…have lunch?” Dima said. “Yes? For you and Sirius?”

“Yes, please,” Remus smiled at him, then, in Russian, “I help?”

Sirius came back down to Remus chopping a tomato while Regulus fried something that he had called Kotlety in a pan. It looked like meatballs, only breaded and more fragrant.

Sirius eyed it, and Remus recognized the word uncle from Regulus. Regulus nodded.

“He say it is uncle’s recipe,” Dima supplied, and Sirius looked at him.

“Do you speak English?” he said.

Dima shrugged. “Some. I try but…not many times I need.”

Sirius nodded. “I understand. It is hard language.”

Regulus forked the steaming Kotlety onto four plates and Dima topped each with sour cream and onions. Regulus took the tomato Remus had been chopping and placed it on thick slices of brown bread, along with some ham.

“How long are you here, Sivushka?” Regulus asked when they were all sitting at the cozy kitchen table. Snow was falling in fat flakes outside, and Remus took a moment to look out at the land. It looked vast, with a frozen lake in the distance.

I’m here for Christmas and New Year’s,” Sirius replied around his food. “You know that.”

Reuglus said something and Sirius leaned in to translate. “I told my parents I come in two weeks. Wanted to be here with you before.”

Regulus’ next words had Sirius pale, and Remus guessed they had something to do with their relationship because, after a moment, Sirius took Remus’ hand tightly in his own.

“Da,” he said simply.

The table went silent. Remus watched Sirius look at his brother. His gaze was steely, the way it got while he was working, or on the phone, sometimes. But Remus knew how much hope and fear lay just beneath.

“Okay,” Regulus said, and went back to his food.

Remus raised a shoulder when Sirius looked at him, expression surprised. “He said he already knew…”

“How?” Sirius said in English, and then again in Russian.

Regulus just scooped his left over sour cream with the last of his bread and leaned back in his chair.

“Are you going to—” was all Remus understood from what he said next.

“I can’t,” Sirius sighed. “Even if I want to. It’s your house, too.”

Remus gathered Regulus was asking if Sirius was going to make them leave.

Regulus just shrugged, and when Sirius rolled his eyes again, Remus fought back a laugh. Sirius with his brother was different.

“Okay,” Sirius said in English—maybe just to annoy Regulus. “We’re jet lagged, we’re going to nap. Remushya, come, I show you house.”

Regulus’ eyebrows raised at the nickname.

“Thank you about lunch,” Remus stuttered out, and followed Sirius out of the room.

The bedroom Sirius led them to was warm, too, and Remus was full and feeling the full effect of the time difference. He groaned and fell down onto the bed on his back.

“Well, that was surprising,” he laughed.

Sirius fell down beside him. “Very.”

“Hey,” Remus turned onto his side, hand on Sirius’ chest. “At least he took it well. He seemed okay.”

“Regulus is not my mother,” Sirius sighed. “Or my father. I love them, I do…and I miss them, but…have see so many new things since leaving home. I’m worry—worry they don’t understand. They’re harsh people. I’m just—not really know.”

Sirius sighed again and pulled Remus onto his chest. “We sleep now. So tired. Maybe they are gone when we wake up, just bad dream.”

Remus laughed. “Maybe.”

~

Remus woke up groggily to Sirius closing the bedroom door as gently as he could. He winced when he turned to meet Remus’ tired eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” then, he rolled his. “Not just bad dream. Still here.”

Remus snorted, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost dinner time. Slept for maybe four hours. Should get up now.”

Remus sat up slowly. He felt like he had sunk half way through the bed to the floor. Sirius laughed softly at the sight, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and stroke a palm over Remus’ sleep-heated cheek.

“I’m bring you orange juice, okay? It help with sleepy.”

Remus hummed, fingers closing around Sirius’ wrist. “Just a little longer. Come here.”

“We get so off schedule,” Sirius warned.

“We have nowhere to be,” Remus smiled as Sirius swayed forward with the words. He kissed his lips, easing him down over him until he could wrap his arms around his waist. “Come here, love.”

Sirius laughed softly, but settled down.

Dinner was delicious and not as awkward as lunch. The brothers seemed to be getting along better, and they made Remus feel alright about needing a translation.

Things got more serious after dinner. They were drinking tea spiked with strong liquor, and Remus felt warm all over, tucked into Sirius’ side. Dima and Regulus were stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, eating some sort of caramel candy.

“When was the last time you talked to mother?” Remus made out Regulus saying.

He felt Sirius stiffen beside him. “Um. Last week. Confirming plans.”

Regulus eyed him carefully, pushing himself up from resting on his elbows to resting back on his palms.

“This is what will happen, okay?” Regulus said, elbows moving to rest on his knees. His dark hair was framed by the firelight. “I’m telling you right now.”

“Okay…” Sirius began.

“They’re not going to be okay in the beginning,” Regulus said. “But I can see you think you are going to be in danger. That isn’t true.”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t think danger, I just think…” Sirius looked down. “I will no longer be…you know, the successful child. I’ll be something else.”

Regulus scoffed. “You’re the successful child because I am the unsuccessful child, not because of your love life.” Regulus shook his head. “Sirius, they love you. This is true, at least.”

“But what if not after?” Sirius said, then pressed his lips together. He wrapped his arm around Remus more tightly. “After they know.”

“Then…” Regulus began. “Then I convince them.”

Sirius looked up. “You would?”

Remus looked at Sirius, trying to gage his reaction—his real reaction.

Regulus tilted his head from side to side. “Okay, fine. Then I try to convince them.”

“You—” Remus began, trying to find the words. “Maybe, yes, you help. Good to have brother. Other people.”

“I brought Remus because…” Sirius looked at Remus, eyes searching and worried. “I wanted them to meet him before they decide how they…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus said. “Remus just said. I’m your brother.”

Sirius let out a breath, rubbing his eyes and then staring at the fire. “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Regulus said.

“How was I suppose to know that?” Sirius snapped. “We don’t speak.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Sirius opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again. Remus felt him sag a little against his side and held him tighter.

Regulus sighed. He looked at Dima, and Remus watched him raised a shoulder. Then, he finished off his glass and looked back at Sirius.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” he said, and the rest was lost on Remus, but he didn’t look upset. “It’s fine, it’s fine, we will go back to be, what?”

He said a word in Russian and then Dima said, “spoiled.”

“Spoiled by mama’s cooking.”

“And we see you at Christmas,” Dima said in English.

“Reg…” Sirius said.

“Really, it’s okay,” Regulus nodded and stood. “You deserve good things, Sirius. And you, Remus. And…I want you to have good memories now…even if the later ones aren’t. Know it’s okay with me.” Then, he looked at Remus. “Our family will like you.”

“I hope so,” Remus replied and Regulus laughed.

“You really do have a horrible accent.”

Remus laughed, too. “I know.”

He looked at Sirius, and was glad to see the faintest of smiles there on his face.

The next morning, they watched Regulus and Dima pull out and down the road from the living room window, and then Remus smiled, feeling arms around his waist. He could smell the fresh blinis waiting on the counter for them.

“I think he’s right,” Remus said, imagining the two of them driving down that same road, towards Sirius’ family home. “I think it will be okay.”

“I hope. But now, just us,” Sirius said with a gentle kiss to his neck.

Remus leaned against him. “Just us.”

[jetaime-jespere]

Affirmations

In response to a request, set in the WSNE universe shortly after Nora is born. TW for some references to postpartum anxiety.

word count: 1,380

Emily thought the pregnancy would be the hardest part.

The fatigue in the first trimester, coupled with near-constant nausea hit hard and fast, rendering it nearly impossible for her to work a case for almost eight weeks. Despite Aaron’s protests, Emily insisted on coming to the BAU whenever she could gather the energy to get down the stairs and into the car. She would pace into the bullpen at his side, a plastic bucket never too far away. The team would take turns telling her to go home, we can do this without you for a few weeks - but to no avail. She couldn’t be persuaded, even if most afternoons ended with her curled in a ball on the leather sofa in Aaron’s office, her hand under her cheek and a blanket tossed over her legs. The food aversions came soon after that - coffee was the first to go. She glared at Aaron before promptly vomiting one morning as he brewed a fresh pot, and threatened to toss the brand new Nespresso machine out the window in between dry heaves. Jack’s chicken nuggets followed shortly after; Aaron’s patience explaining to him just why they couldn’t get a fresh bag of dinosaur nuggets after he’d tossed the old ones nearly broke the seven year old’s heart. But Aaron explained it was to help Emily feel better, and he obliged with an innocent smile, albeit disappointed. Crackers were the only thing she could stomach until the middle of her second trimester. The body changes were a mental hurdle - her hips widened until only yoga pants felt comfortable, the varicose veins made her cringe. She adored the bump that grew underneath her shirt but loathed the heartburn and breathlessness that soon came with it.

She learned the hard way that was just the beginning.

Nora came into the world dramatically, during a snowstorm in February, and while VDOT plowed the roads and restored powerlines, Emily and Aaron spent blissful days soaking up baby snuggles, completely oblivious to everything except the tiny bundle in her arms and Jack nestled between them. The visitors came after that - an endless parade of friends - mostly the team, coming after work or on weekends, bringing meals and conversation. JJ held Nora while Emily took blissful hot showers, Penelope cleaned the kitchen and brought groceries while Morgan carried Jack around on his shoulders. Dave brought whiskey and cigars, shared with Aaron on the porch, and Emily never quite got tired of seeing their baby daughter nestled in her Godfather’s arms.

It was when things settled into what should have been a new normal, about a week after Nora’s birth, that Aaron sensed something was wrong. It started with irritability - snapping at him immediately when he brought her coffee as she finished nursing Nora. She had a short fuse with Jack, sometimes having zero patience for his persistent questions about his baby sister.

“Does Emily not like me anymore, Daddy? Now that Nora is here?” Jack tearfully wept in his lap, reminiscent of earlier years, and Aaron’s throat tightened with empathy for not only his son, but his wife too, undoubtedly struggling with more emotions than she knew what to do with. “No buddy,” he soothed. “Emily loves you very much.”

Jack wasn’t exactly convinced, but a crisis was temporarily averted.

In Aaron’s opinion, she was a natural. Breastfeeding took a few tries but Emily was a pro by now; Nora was a decent sleeper. She fed her and changed her, sang to her. Watching her with their daughter was something he’d never tire of; it gave him an inordinate sense of pride. He knew she would be a wonderful mother. He wished Emily saw it that way too. He was determined to show her that.

But there were other signs. Her appetite vanished - uncharacteristically Emily - and on more than one occasion, he watched her scrape a half-eaten plate of food into the trash can. “You’re breast-feeding, Emily,” Aaron said gently, later that night, wondering if it was worth the argument, partially concealed by the depths of his closet as he got ready for bed. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Aaron.” Emily looked exhausted as she lifted a helplessly crying Nora into her arms. “Sometimes I don’t know I’m cut out for this.” And she swore under her breath, the baby against her shoulder, face pale as the final straw broke. “I don’t know what she wants.” Her voice cracked, the exhaustion bleeding through. “I’m failing at this.” And then she seemingly crumpled before him, sinking onto their bed with Nora in her arms. For a moment Aaron stood helpless, staring between his sobbing wife and wailing daughter, unsure of who to help first.

But then he’s across their bedroom in three strides, taking Nora out of her arms and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Emily, sweetheart, please listen to me. Just listen to my voice.” He somehow gets her attention while bouncing Nora enough to settle her. “Go take a shower while I get her settled. We’ll be okay for a few minutes.”

He gets Nora settled in a record amount of time. The baby is sound asleep in the bassinet next to Emily’s bed before he nudges the bathroom door open. A thick cloud of steam greets him; Emily sits perched on the sink wrapped in a towel. Wet hair drips down her back, her head sits in her hands. It’s clear she hasn’t exactly stopped crying, either. His chest is cleaved in half as he wraps both arms around her, gently pulls her down to her feet. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you dried off.”

Once the towel has been replaced with a set of nursing-friendly pajamas, Aaron tucks her against his chest in their bed. Emily is almost lifeless in his arms, her body succumbing to the blinding exhaustion that comes along with caring for a newborn. Aaron rocks her gently, like he’s done many times before. “Talk to me, Emily. Please.”

She buries her face in his neck, curling into herself. He shakes his head, swipes his finger under her chin and tilts her head up to meet his gaze. “Nothing you say will make me love you any less, you know that, right?”

Her breaths come erratically, an aftereffect of the tears. When she finally finds words, they come as a whisper. “For so long, all I wanted was to be a mother. And I’m failing at it.”

“No,” he says immediately, dragging his knuckles across her cheekbone, cupping her chin in his hand. “How can you think that? What could ever give you that idea?”

“I never thought it would be this hard.” She finally admits. Her teeth sink into her lower lip; she struggles to meet his eyes once again. “What if I’m not cut out for this?”

How long has she felt like this? How long has she struggled to keep it together?

“You are not failing.” Aaron holds her his chest, brushes his lips over her forehead and rubs her back in slow, sweeping circles. “Never. Not in any way, shape, or form.” His words are firm, a contrast to the gentleness of his touch. “You could never.”

“I feel like one,” she sniffles. “It seems like nothing I do is right. The house is a mess. I’m a mess. JJ made this look so easy.” Emily swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I thought once she was here, it would be different but … I don’t even know. I’m so tired, Aaron.”

“We have a newborn, sweetheart. We’re supposed to be tired.” He shifts them so they’re seated more upright, but doesn’t let her pull away. He smiles when she laughs a little, the tension in her body starting to fade. “But we’re going to do it together. You and me. We’re a team.”

For the first time in what feels like days Emily finally relaxes against him as his words sink in, beaming as her eyes flutter closed. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too. More than you would ever know. And I will tell you every day just what a wonderful mother you are.”

It’s the last thing she hears before she falls asleep in his arms.

[ktheist]

life is yours

muses. professor!fiancee!namjoon x reader x fiancee’s friend!past life husband! expecting father!yoongi

genre. reincarnation au. college au. pregnancy au.

word. 1.7k

x

you loved min yoongi, you’d die for him.

and died for him you did. when the traitors came for your king, you’d leaped in front of him and took a swing of the treacherous sword. history books portrayed him as the king who went mad. the king who slayed hundreds of lives in one night and ruled for fifty more years as a tyrant.

what are histories if not painted with a tragic romance?

they said it was because of you he went mad. because he lost his queen, his breath.

a few hundred years later, he’d found her again. at the age of twenty-seven and you, twenty-two.

his girlfriend was pregnant with his baby and you were professor kim namjoon’s student-turned-fiance.

“it’s funny, you know,” you took a whiff of the cigarette and breathe out through your mouth, “we can walk out of our current relationships and ruin everyone’s perception of us, or we can just lead the life we’re living like we didn’t remember anything.”

yoongi squints his eyes as he stares up at the sun. lips tucked downwards, as though telling the universe that after one lifetime too many, he’s unimpressed.

“or we could just run away,” he recalls the flames of the torches of that night - not as bright as today’s sun but just as mocking, “forget about everything and run away.”

“you make it sound so easy,” a laugh escapes your smoke kissed lips, “it’s not as if the people we’ve known and loved are fake, faceless puppets.”

this life is just as real.

though it would’ve gone much different if you’d met each other sooner.

yoongi taps the pointed corner of the invitation card on his palm. it tickles but it’s nothing compared to the burning sensation as he held onto the handle of the sword despite it grazing his flesh.

“how far along is she?” his girlfriend, you mean. 

walking into namjoon’s office - the office you’d snuck into a few times too many but felt utterly alien - you saw the porcelain, snow-kissed complexion of your king. all at once, the memories hit you like a rain of shards.

and in each, individual shard, you see the images of your first step, first drawing, first embroidery and the first time you met yoongi. an arrogant boy whom you pushed into the koi pond.

the same boy who smirked at you the whole time during your engagement ceremony while you squirmed in your seat, scheming a runway and an apology at the same time.

and the man who strutted into the room, plopped on the left side of the bed and bade you good night on your first night as a married couple.

it was until three months later, that you trapped him under you and confronted him about it.

you thought yoongi, the crown prince turned king, had a lover. but he loved you too much to hurt you. they said you’re supposed to bleed on your first time. you laughed until your stomach hurt because you were happy beyond words that your husband was abstaining himself for you and not going around fucking a lover behind your back.

not even a year later, you caressed your stomach and giggled to yourself, thinking about yoongi’s stone cold expression turning pink and speechless. that night, the rebellion happened.

your last memories was of him holding you in his arms and calling out your name. 

in this lifetime, your first memory of him is watching him smile a familiar smile that screamed awkwardness as namjoon relayed their youthful tales.

that was, until he got to the part where yoongi’s about to be a father.

all of a sudden, there’s a knot in your stomach. it twists and tightens until you feel like you’re going to puke if you didn’t excuse yourself, saying something about calling your mom that you’d be having dinner with namjoon and letting the two men catch up.

“ten weeks. we’re ten weeks pregnant,” he sucks in a deep, agonized breath - and from the way he’s gazing up at the sky with his hands on his hips, you don’t think he meant to hide his afflictions.

the way he refers to himself and her as ‘we’ makes that knot all the more painful.

“i was a seven weeks pregnant,” you smile softly to yourself, gazing down at your stomach as if you could feel your baby from your previous lifetime.

you shouldn’t have said it.

should’ve just kept quiet.

but-

“they told me you were eight weeks in,” the soft, breathless tone that comes from yoongi is  what makes your heart beat again.

as if you’d come to life. as if min ___, the queen of joseon had come back to tell her king the one thing she wished to say. the one thing she wished for.

a family.

“taeyang. i was going to name him taeyang because he was going to be the sun of the dynasty and bring peace to the nation,” you laugh and it’s the choked up sound that you make that makes you realize you’re on the verge of crying.

“never thought i’d be talking about histories and dynasties with anyone - i hate history,” the confession slips out of you like you’re talking with an old friend. someone you trust wholeheartedly. someone you know you can confide in. 

yoongi was your friend, your lover, your king.

“come with me. i have a savings account, we can start anew somewhere, we can have what we couldn’t have back then.” he turns to you and looks at you in the eye. 

“what about your baby?” you ask because you know it’s meant for his future family.

“i’ll send child support every month,” he says.

“your parents?” you ask because his mother was a concubine and the king barely remembered his name out of the names of his many children.

in this lifetime, from the way namjoon candidly told the story, you know they love their eldest son as much as he loves them.

“they’ll adore you,” he says.

“no one’s gonna love a homewr- ah,” you hiss, dropping the cigarette that was trapped between your fingers until it burned your skin.

“___,” a familiar, deep but less gravelly tone reverberates against the walls as namjoon comes jogging at you like you’re a kid who just bruised her knee.

you study his face and yoongi’s eyes burn holes in your head.

from the way he meets your gaze and gives you ‘your fingers almost got burned and you’re looking at me?’ you think it’s safe to say that he didn’t hear what you were saying.

“i’m fine, i just burned my fingers because i got too engulfed in yoongi’s stories about how you two met,” you laugh at how namjoon’s inspecting your fingers more attentively than a doctor would.

“another reason to include in the long list of reasons not to smoke,” your finacee chides.

“that was my last,” you announce in a higher pitch than your usual voice - and that’s how namjoon knows you’re half-joking, even when you- “i promise.”

“anyways,” you place the injured hand on his chest to distract him - the way yoongi’s jaw tighten doesn’t go past you, “i talked to my dad because apparently my mom was cooking and couldn’t come to the phone and he said to tell you to bring me back before curfew.”

it’s the way namjoon freezes underneath your touch, his eyes blinking once and his soul retreating far back into his subconscious that makes you giggle.

“i’m kidding.”

only then, does he breathe again.

“my mom wasn’t cooking, she was watching her favorite show,” you say again.

it takes a split second for namjoon to put two and two together and tenses up again. as if he feels your father’s hardened gaze behind him. your father didn’t take it too well when you introduced your professor as your boyfriend who proposed to you a week before.

“it was nice meeting you, yoongi, we look forward to see you at our wedding,” you extend a hand, the playful smile reserved for namjoon, now directed at your king.

the king whom you died for. and the king who you’re telling to live his life, as you’ll live yours.

“wouldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding for the world,” he smiles, his hand grasping yours and you thought you’re going to combust from the electrifying sensation that runs through your veins.

but it’s only short-lived. 

you pull your hand away and he summons his back to his side.

he turns to namjoon and gives him a pat on his shoulder, congratulating him again but this time, with a lingering stare before walking past the two of you and towards the parking lot.

“professor, i’ll get my purse from your office and we’ll be good to go.” you say absently before skipping to the opposite direction of where yoongi was headed.

with each step you take, you hear your heart breaking. just like the pieces of your memories that rains down like shards of glass.

you wonder if you’ll make it through this life without dying of a broken heart.

“i thought we fixed that?” namjoon murmurs behind you, just as you sling the strap of your purse over your shoulder.

“hm?” you turn to the man leaning against the doorframe, observing you with a crease between his brows.

“you called me professor again,” namjoon mumbles almost as if he’s sulking.

and your heart warms at the tender sight of a grown man acting like a child. you’re reminded of the reason you fell for kim namjoon. his gentle nature was the opposite of yours yet he laughed at your jokes like he laughed off your flirtatious advancements.

he told you he saw you as a student and lent you his scarf when he saw you shaking in the cold while waiting for your uber. the next time he saw you, at 11 pm before the library closes, he offered to drive you home even though his was in the opposite direction from yours.

“namjoon,” you say his name, a smile tucked on your lips as you wrap your arms around his waist and his arm that had been crossed over his chest instantly makes it way around you, “thank you.”

“for what?” his eyes light up like a christmas tree, dimple digging into his cheek.

“for choosing me,” you stand on the tip of your toes and he meets you halfway for the kiss.

and you loved min yoongi, you died for him.

you love kim namjoon, you choose to live the rest of your life with him.

x

note. so like, the title - technically, it’s like oc saying “my life is yours” to both yoongi and namjoon but in different lifetimes :D

[mellowswriting]

Desperate

pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader

summary ||  It’s been far too long, and you both need to let off some steam.

word count || 6,219

warnings || !!SMUT!! (unsafe sex, dom/sub vibes, innocence kink, fingering, p in v sex, dom!Javier, slight mocking/degradation, overstimulation, some spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie, “beg for it”, egregious use of ‘princesa’ and ‘good girl’ bc I’m a glutton, Javi loves feeling powerful okay), ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION

a/n || I’m amazed at how long this took, but I wanted this to be perfect. I hope my fellow Javi hoes enjoy

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

It had been weeks since you were able to go out with Javier and spend the night drinking and having a good time. You didn’t blame him, of course. Work was busy for the both of you and you had barely seen each other outside of curling up in bed together at the end of the day. It wasn’t something you had expected, the first time he wrapped his arms around you in bed and fell right asleep. Falling asleep together without at least one round of exhausting sex was unheard of - until it wasn’t. Until it was a rarity for you to fall asleep alone, sex or no sex, and you were craving the feeling of his breath at you neck just as much as you were craving the feeling of his hand sliding under the hem of your underwear. Neither of you said anything about it, too afraid to break the delicate trance of happiness that had enveloped your lives.

Steve had insisted for Javier to bring you to the club with him and Connie, worried that if everyone didn’t let off some steam soon, they would end up at each other’s throats. Steve wasn’t wrong, either. As suddenly and surprisingly sweet the last few weeks had been, all work and no play left Javi a very pent up man, so you accepted enthusiastically when he called you before leaving the office. You were a whirlwind in your apartment as you tried to beat the clock to get ready before your lover arrived, clothes yanked from their neatly organized places as you searched for a very specific dress. One you knew would make Javier lose his mind.

There was no knock at your door when Javi arrived. He simply walked in, something he had done since the very beginning of your little...whatever the hell this was. It was something he loved about you, that you left the door unlocked when you knew he would be on his way. So trusting in him. At first it had made him beyond nervous. What if someone managed to get there before he did, had the luck to try your door one of the few times it wasn’t secure? Why the fuck did you trust him so much? But over time, the worries melted into something soft and appreciative that warmed his chest and scared him even more.

There really was no winning with Javier sometimes.

But he couldn’t even keep that train of thought when he pushed your bedroom door open and saw you bent over to dig through the bottom drawer of your dresser, only in a bra and pair of panties that made his mouth water. So much bare skin, all for him to look at and greedily touch however he wanted. The surprised gasp you gave when Javier’s hand slid down your lower back to grab at the globe of your ass made him smirk, even when you spun around and smacked at his chest with a playful glare.

“God, Javi! You’re lucky I didn’t punch you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed up on your tiptoes to kiss him, grinning when he yanked you closer to bring you firmly against his chest. He watched as the momentary fear of his abrupt arrival melted away into something soft and happy, and it tugged at his chest. “I’ll be ready in just a second, okay?”

Javi hummed at you in acknowledgement but didn’t let go until you squirmed out of his grip and ushered him out the bedroom door. He would never admit it, but he pouted in the living room while he waited for you. He wanted to watch you get dressed. There really wasn’t a better sight than watching you shimmy into a pair of ridiculously tight jeans.

Watching you emerge from your room in a tight black dress was a close fuckin’ second, though. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his teeth clenched, and to anyone else he probably looked pissed. You knew him too well, though. He was just trying to convince himself not to tear it off of you and fuck you right on the floor in the living room. The harsh exhale that left him when you teasingly beckoned him to follow you towards your door told you that you were in for a long night.

Javier kept at least one hand on you the entire time - through the cab ride, as you waited at the bar for your drinks, even when you slid into a booth with Connie and Steve. It was grounding for the both of you. Javier made you feel safe, just the simplicity of a hand on your thigh or an arm draped over your shoulder. The feeling of your skin helped Javier stay in the moment, kept him from drifting into the mindset of Agent Peña, who would be beyond on edge with all of the people and noise.

“One more shot, and I bet you’ll be able to convince him to dance with you.” Connie grinned conspiratorially, nodding to where Javi was making his way through the crowd with a tray of shots.

“Oh, I could get him to dance with me stone cold sober. Doesn’t take much convincing either.” You said with a small wink and Connie laughed at the way Steve crinkled his nose.

“Yeah, I do not need to see that.” Steve stood and offered Connie his hand with a wag of his eyebrows, leaving you at the table just as Javi set down the drinks. He watched them disappear onto the dancefloor before turning those pretty eyes on you.

“The hell was that about?” Javi grumbled as he handed you one of the shot glasses. He was about to take his own when you leaned forward to speak into his ear, balancing yourself with a hand against his chest.

“They didn’t want to see me all over you.” You spoke low, letting a teasing lilt take over your tone, before you took your shot and sighed harshly at the burn of whiskey. Javi froze in front of you, that hungry glint in his eyes that you absolutely adored, shot glass still hovering at his lips. “Gonna take your shot before or after you get your hands on me?”

The whiskey was tipped back into his mouth before he slammed the glass onto the table so hard you worried he had broken it. You didn’t get the chance to see if he actually did before Javier dragged you away from the table and the only thing you could think about were those strong hands at your waist.

Dancing with Javier always left you breathless. Not from the actual dancing, but from him. The man could make the entire universe shrink to just him and the way he moved against you, the sway of his hips and ease with which he moved your body however he wanted. It was moments like these that reminded you exactly who it was you were messing with. Javier Peña could take whatever he wanted from you. He would only do that if you explicitly told him to, of course, but feeling the flex of his biceps as he curled his arms around your body, the strength in his hands as he grabbed a handful of your ass… it left you yearning.

Anticipation danced down your spine with every graze of his skin against yours, every sharp bite he gave to your neck and shoulders, every grind of his hips against your ass. You turned to face him, winding your arms around his neck to drag him down close enough to almost kiss him. He was expecting you to, you could tell by the way his lips parted and the slight pout of his bottom lip when you didn’t give him what he wanted. Instead, you pressed your forehead to his and drank him in; his eyes were hooded, glazed slightly with alcohol and lust, his curls slightly damp with sweat, chest rolling with each breath. The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone and mischief danced through your veins when you leaned down to press a kiss to his neck and then bite his collarbone just a smidge harder than necessary.

Javi hissed and yanked you back with a fist wrapped in your hair - not exactly something you weren’t used to from your lover. His teeth were bared slightly as he took in your prone form. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you so… obedient for him, even when you were using that mouth of yours in ways he didn’t approve of. He tutted at you, slowly turning your head from side to side as if he was amused by his control over you.

“Careful, princesa.” Javi rasped in your ear. The low tone of his voice made you want to melt right there on the filthy club floor. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He was expecting a retort, something eloquent and teasing perhaps. You knew this, somewhere in the back of your mind, but all you could think about was the controlling grip he had against your head. Heat and tension began coiling tighter in your belly and any intent to be a tease fell away into need.

“Please,” It came out on an airy exhale, barely audible over the music and raucous sounds of partying. Your lover tilted his head at you, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as if he didn’t understand you, so you licked your lips and tried again. “Javi, please.”

“You’ll be a good girl for me tonight, hm?” Javi’s eyes went slightly darker when you nodded at him and he let go of your hair, smoothing his palm over the back of your head. “I’ll tell Murphy we’re leaving. Stay right here.”

With a kiss to your forehead, Javier stepped away from you and disappeared to find his partner and it was as if the world snapped back into place. His presence was all consuming and the moment he would leave it was like the rest of the universe came back into existence, still fuzzy around the edges from his intensity. Having all of that energy focused on you? It was better than any alcohol, any drug.

The entire cab ride to Javier’s apartment was tense and you wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind, rip off your seatbelt, and climb into Javier’s lap, but the firm hand on your thigh kept you in place. You almost did exactly that when he let go, but the sight of those talented fingers rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt had your brain short-circuiting. The combination of already being tipsy and Javi’s innate ability to make you horny beyond reason left you dizzy. Javi smirked at the way your lips parted as he slowly exposed his forearms but the teasing words at the tip of his tongue disappeared at the gentle way you touched his inner wrist. Your fingers trailed up into his palm, so soft that it almost tickled, and then flipped his hand in yours to feel the ridges of his knuckles and tendons. So fucking reverent when you looked at him. It lit a fire in his veins.

“You have nice hands.” You said it out of nowhere and Javi frowned, about to ask you what the hell that even meant, but the cab lurched to a stop outside his apartment building. The fire in your eyes returned as if it had never left - it was enough to have him tossing the cabbie his money and dragging you along with him.

A loud bang echoed through his apartment when Javier burst through the door, rushing in backwards just far enough to get the door closed and shove you against it. The air was forced out of you at the impact, but it wasn’t as if you could really catch your breath with his mouth fused against yours to begin with. Javier tapped your thighs and you automatically hopped up, letting him hitch your thighs around his waist and brace your weight against the door. The hard edges of the door bit into your back, sure to leave red marks that Javi would marvel at once the need to bury into each other was sated.

“This...fucking dress.” Javier growled against your lips before he leaned away just enough to glare down at your cleavage and curves as if he were infuriated. You knew better, knew that the heat in his glare was hunger, not anger. His hand groped and massaged at your thighs and ass with a fervor that made you feel beyond desired - every touch was desperate, like he would implode without it. “Get your ass upstairs. I want you on the bed by the time I get up there.”

You shuddered in anticipation as he set you down on your feet, the sharp smack he gave your thigh ushering you towards his bedroom. Before you rounded the corner, Javi called out your name and when you turned to look at him… the man always looked handsome, but in the low light, sleeves rolled up, shirt half unbuttoned and untucked from his slacks, the bulge of his cock against his zipper… he was magnificent.

“Naked.”

You smirked. “Yes, sir.”

You fled to his room before Javier could storm over and snatch you up. That pert little phrase always seemed to make him rougher, needier, and that was just what you were craving from him. You stripped as you went, leaving your heels and dress in the hallway and dropping your lacy underwear right in front of the door. Wasting no time, you crawled up into the center of his bed, tucking your legs off to the side and propping yourself up with one arm. A simple way to pose yourself, accentuating the curve of your hips. Chills washed over your skin in the cool air, but you would be warmed up soon enough. Javi wouldn’t be able to resist such a pretty display for him. Down the hall, you saw the light flick on in the bathroom and could hear the sound of the faucet running, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that even in his tipsy state, he was washing his hands before he came to fuck you within an inch of your life.

He meandered through the hallway, feigning disinterest as he looked down at the lace at his feet before meeting your eyes, one eyebrow raised. It was the sweet smile you gave him that made him break, the tiniest upward curve to his lips as he made his way to you. Javi intended to kiss you, to have a full on teenage makeout session before he even began exploring the familiarity of your body. It was one of his favorite things after all - the way you would grind against him, the sweet sounds he pulled from your body, the spit-slick and slightly swollen lips - but when he trailed the back of his fingers down your calf, something in him snapped.

A surprised laugh echoed through the bedroom when Javier yanked you onto your back and pulled you right to the edge of the bed, using the hand at your ankle to spread your legs wide for him. Bashfulness bloomed on your face at the sudden exposure, and paired with the way Javier’s sharp gaze watched your every move, every rise and fall of your chest, every tiny twitch of your hips, you felt the heady rush of vulnerability and trust that you could only ever get from Javi.

“Don’t pretend to be shy.” Javier muttered as he fixed his gaze on your core, his nostrils flaring as he took in just how wet and swollen you were for him. All for him. His thumb rubbed at your inner thigh, trailing closer and closer to the one place you needed him to touch, excitement dancing along your skin, and he smirked at the needy cant of your hips. “We both know you want this…”

A plea was at the tip of your tongue, ready to tempt him into giving you what you want, but it was all for naught the moment he slid his fingers through your cunt to tease at your clit. Your eyes slammed shut the moment you felt those calloused fingertips zero in and start to rub in slow circles, your back arching as you gasped out Javi’s name.

“Good girl,” Javier immediately rewarded you by sliding a finger into your wet cunt, reveling in the low whine it drew from you. His other hand palmed your breast possessively, talented fingers tweaking your nipple until you cried out louder for him, a hot shock of pride rocketing through Javi’s chest. You always sound so pretty for him. He wasted no time in setting a steady rhythm, curling his finger on each thrust just to watch the way your jaw dropped open and eyebrows furrowed. You always look so pretty for him, too.

Javier leaned over you to study your face as he used his thumb to rub your clit in time with the strokes he laid into that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids, and hell, he needed to see those eyes. You listened so perfectly for him when he told you to open your eyes, his voice low and commanding in that timbre that made you want to spend the rest of your life with him between your thighs. They almost fluttered shut again as Javier slid a second finger in next to the first and his other hand left your breast to grab your jaw in an almost painful grip, stopping the pleasurable roll of his fingers inside of you.

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me, hermosa.” Javi didn’t move again until you nodded as much as you could under his hand, but when he did, it wasn’t the gentle, rhythmic press from before. No, he fucked you with his fingers, curling his fingertips into your g-spot ruthlessly, and fuck, combined with the roll of his thumb over your clit, you were keening underneath him.

Tension tightened low in your belly, euphoria threatening to spill over your entire body and leave you shimmering in its aftermath, and fuck, wait, why was he slowing down?! Your disgruntled whining was muffled by his hand and you were so tempted to reach down between your legs and finish yourself off, but a move like that would leave you with an ass covered in red marks and trembling for release for hours. It was a little game Javi loved to play when he was feeling like a cocky little shit, but he had done this enough times for you to know how to get what you wanted from him.  So instead, you gripped his wrist gently and repositioned his hand so you could draw his fingers into your mouth.

Curses muttered in Spanish were the only response you got, Javi’s dark eyes transfixed on the way you sucked his fingers while still giving him those sweet, innocent eyes. You never looked at anyone the way you looked at him - Javi spent enough time around you to know as much, and he fucking loved it. He felt special, important. Needed. There was nothing prettier than the sight of you writhing and needy beneath him.

He met each roll of your hips with steady thrusts, those talented hands wringing out gasps around his fingers. Never had you met a man who could bring you to the edge with a good finger fucking and just a few filthy praises, but then again, there were no men like Javier Peña, period. Your back arched, pressing you closer to your lover, your hand gripped his wrist tighter, the other tearing at the sheets. He was too fucking good at this, was going to send you over the edge before you could even get in a deep enough breath to warn him. It came out slurred, muddled around his fingers, a steady stream of ‘please, please, please,’ that made Javier groan low in his chest.

“Go on, baby. Cum for me, cum on my fingers.” was growled into your ear, followed by the sharp drag of teeth along your pulse and you shattered beneath him. The tension snapped and you couldn’t even moan, couldn’t cry out under the assault of his fingers riding you through your orgasm and holy fucking shit, there was no way this wouldn’t be the death of you.

Death by orgasm.

Put that on your gravestone.

Coming down from your high felt like being underwater, like the entire world was suspended around you, muffled and not entirely real. It was the drag of Javier’s fingertips up the soft flesh of your stomach, leaving a wet trail to cool on your skin, and the gentle roll of your nipple between his fingers that pulled you towards clarity. Javi’s voice was almost too low to hear over the aftermath of pleasure rushing through your ears as he murmured praise into your sweat-slick skin. He was still stood at the edge of the bed, chest heaving with each harsh breath as he watched you bask in the orgasm his talented fingers drew from you.

You sat up slowly, perched on the edge of the bed with Javier stood between between your open thighs - right where he belonged. The innocence of the gentle smile you gave him, the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth… it made him want to tear you apart, break you down to your most base state and watch you try to find yourself all over again. The hand on your thigh squeezed lightly when you cupped the tent in his slacks, immediately followed by a hiss through clenched teeth at the expert roll of your wrist.

“Go on,” Javier was no less commanding when his voice was low and raspy. If anything it made you even more compelled to listen to him, to hang off of his every word and follow them to the letter just for the opportunity of being called his good girl again. That’s why you undid the button of his pants with deft fingers, biting back a groan at the sight of his cock bobbing free of its confines to stand proud against his belly, and you leaned forward to lick the slick beading at the tip. Your efforts to please him with your mouth were thwarted by a harsh pull at your hair and you gasped at the sudden pain, ready to whine and beg for him to fuck your mouth without holding back. It was the steeled resolve in his eyes that shut you up. “Later. Wanna bury myself in this pretty cunt.”

The filthiness of his words made you smirk as you got onto your knees and lowered your upper body to be flush with the sheets. If there was one position that made Javi go wild, it was this - the sight of you baring yourself to him, your pussy glistening in the low light, hips swaying slightly as if you were trying to lure him in…

A sharp smack against your ass made you jump in surprise, your surprised gasp morphing into a melodic, excited giggle that had a thrill shivering up Javier’s spine. You were so good to him. So good for him. Javier yanked his pants all the way down and kicked them away as if their very existence in that moment was an insult before he kneeled on the bed, pride flashing through his chest in a searing rush when you whined high in your throat, the tiny sound full of anticipation. He notched the head of his cock right at your entrance, rubbing the sensitive skin there for a heartbeat before thrusting into your wet heat.

Javier filled you in one sure, seemingly unending push forward that made you arch your back even more just to try to fit him, not stopping until his hips were pressed flush against your ass. The fluttering of your cunt around him was always overwhelming from the second he fucked into you, both of your bodies desperate to adjust to the intensity. Javi grinded down against you, teeth clenching at the sweet, intoxicated sounds he pulled from your body.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Javier soothed, his tone just barely teasing as he slid one hand over your hip in circles. “You know you can take it.”

You could only nod in response, your voice stolen by the stretch of his cock. Tremors were already beginning in your thighs from the sheer fullness but that first slow drag as he pulled back to slam into you had your entire body trembling. It was almost too much but somehow not enough all at once, your body keening for more but quivering at the very thought. Javi set about a pace that had your ass juggling with every thrust, shoving you further into the sheets and leaving you to writhe beneath his commanding grip.

The words you tried to get out fizzled out as quickly as they formed. They broke off in the middle and disappeared into the soft cotton you pressed your face further into, almost embarrassed by the sudden fleetingness of your ability to think properly. It was a talent seemingly only possessed by Javier. The grip on your hips where he used you as counterweight to thrust into you that would surely leave bruises, the bite of his short fingernails into the soft skin of your waist and thighs, the way he would grind down against your g-spot until you cried out for him… it was a spell only he could entangle you in.

Javier wasn’t any better. Muddled groans and praise fell from his lips like honey, dripped through you in a sweet, scorching reminder that this was you. You made him lose his mind, made that usually direct and to the point sense of control slip away into something base, instinctual, and absolutely fucking filthy. The thought alone would have been enough to have you writhing and desperate for another orgasm at those talented hands, but combined with the tight grip he had on your body and the eagerness in every thrust had you ready to beg.

And he could tell.

You were yanked up before you could even realize what was happening, the entire world spinning and losing meaning as he guided you up onto your knees. Your head fell back against his shoulder at the hot press of his chest to your back and fuck, Javier loved it. You were his, all for him, and the way you went absolutely limp at the rough way he pleasured you. He braced his forearm just beneath your breasts, the other hand kept you steady at your hip, and he fucked you. Reveled in the breathy moans that were better than any music to have blessed the earth. Drew his hips back just to snap them against you, pounded you with his cock just to hear the way it made you mewl for him. Gritted his teeth against the urge to spill himself right in the tightness of your cunt right then and there. 

“Beg for it.” He commanded, the hand at your hip trailing down to tease at the curls above your sex, so close to giving you want you wanted. You keened against him, hips undulating in stuttered, needy rolls, still unable to force your lips to form a coherent thought. “Go on, princesa. Beg.”

“P-please, I… oh, fuck, please!” Your voice was barely recognizable, followed by a whine when Javier’s pace slowed.

“Please what?” Javier growled into your ear. You shuddered against him, a flash of annoyance at his little game making you reach behind you and bury your hand in his hair just a bit harsher than necessary. The delight you drew from the hiss that followed was short-lived. Javier bit you, that little shit, right on your shoulder in his own form of delicious revenge, the pleasure and pain sparking and morphing together in a heady haze.

“Fuck, please let me cum!” You bit out and fucking finally, Javier dipped his hand lower to swipe two fingers over your swollen clit in fast circles. A choked gasp was all you could manage, your once in tandem thrusts stuttering against the surety in which Javi fucked you.

The tension bordered on too much, hovered in that tricky space between pain and pleasure, your body still sensitive with your first orgasm. You lost yourself in the intensity of it all, the intensity of Javier’s fingers on your clit, of his dick buried inside of you as deep as he could go, of his teeth and tongue working over your neck and shoulder, and you broke. Your body went rigid against him, your orgasm ripping through your entire body like a tidal wave, crashing into you and tearing you apart.

The contrast between the way Javier gently settled you onto your back beneath him versus how hard he thrust back into you would’ve been funny if you hadn’t just came so hard your vision blacked out. This was his favorite way to look at you - eyes glazed over, mouth hung open, breasts jiggling with every push of his cock in your tight little cunt. He feels like a fucking god like this. Lording over you, controlling your body, your pleasure, your every move. Using you for his own release. Fucking you like he didn’t give a shit about you. And you just took it, moaned and whined and cried his name so beautifully, tried feebly to meet his thrusts despite being overstimulated and string out on his dick.

Something dark lurked in the back of Javier’s mind. You never faltered; you just gave and gave to him so freely. He was not a greedy man by nature, but you brought out something primal in him. The more you gave, the more he took. He wanted to see you writhing underneath him, begging him to stop, giving him those pretty wide eyes filled with tears and desperation. So he reached between your bodies and slipped his thumb over your clit.

You lurched forward, your entire body tensing and clenching, and Javier could have came right there at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock. The haziness in your eyes sharpened into clarity, an almost fearful glint taking over them that only fueled Javi’s depravity. He couldn’t see them for long. The moment he began rolling your clit under his thumb, your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Javier bared his teeth at the sight.

“Javi,” You whimpered, grasping at his forearm. “I can’t.”

“You can.” The low timbre of Javier’s voice is what makes you finally focus on him and fuck, he looks so good like this - jaw clenched, the dark fire burning in his eyes ready to consume you whole. The very air about him shimmered with an imposing sense of authority. He snapped his hips against you, slow but deep and harsh, his cock shoving against your cervix almost too hard. “You can and you fucking will.”

Your thighs hitched further up Javier’s waist as you squirmed under the dual assault of his cock stretching you open, fucking you full, and his thumb torturing your already exhausted clit. He grabbed your jaw, surprisingly gentle given the circumstances, and steadied your lolling head.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Open your eyes.” Javi whispered, his voice strained with the effort. There was concern in those pretty brown eyes underneath the need. “Good girl. You remember your safe word, right?”

You nodded rapidly, your breath hitching with each sharp thrust. Javier stared down at you expectantly as if he were waiting for you to give in - but since when were you to turn down an orgasm at the hands of one Javier Peña? You drew your bottom lip between your teeth and the grip on his wrist tightened, your hips slowly rolling in time with his own.

“Make me cum, Javi.”

For half a second, Javier froze, his usually sharp and quick mind falling completely blank, and then something in him breaks. A growl ripped out of his chest and Javier had to bury his face in your neck. If he kept looking at your pretty face contorted in pleasure and pain, he would’ve been done for. Every sensation threatened to be the one that threw you over the edge. The rumble of his chest with each moan, the slick slide of his cock as he fucked you, the sharpness of his teeth against your neck, the magnificent torture of his fingers rolling your clit.

Your third orgasm was shorter than the others, but no less intense. The entire world collapsed in on itself, could have imploded around you and you couldn’t have noticed, not with the way Javier pulled another orgasm from your reluctant, exhausted body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you sunk down into that pleasant, hazy headspace and that was when Javi picked up his pace. It was devastating, your nails digging into his skin hard enough to make him hiss.

He ripped his hand away from your cunt and braced it on your hip as he chased his release in your body. It’s the exhausted pleas you whisper into his ear that has him finishing, burying himself to the hilt and filling you with his cum. Javier collapsed into you, chest to chest, his cock slowly softening inside of you. It took him a moment to realize that you were humming quietly. There was no particular melody, just happy, low humming like the purr of a content cat.

In those moments after, no matter how sore or tired you were, you felt alive, weightless. Like there was nothing else in the universe besides Javier’s weight pressing you into his mattress and the slick feeling of his cum leaking out around his cock. With a deep breath, Javier propped himself up on his elbow to look at you, subtly checking you over to make sure you were okay. The lazy smile you gave him made him grin at you, a light and undeniable happiness settling over him.

He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, settling on his side with his head propped against his fist, and tilted your head towards him to get a good look at that pretty face - eyes half-lidded, lips red and kiss swollen, your skin sweaty and covered in his marks. The pull to kiss you was magnetic, undeniable. It was gentle, almost chaste if he hadn’t just fucked you within an inch of your life.

You absentmindedly trailed your fingers over the ridges in his spine, a simple touch that he had received time and time again from so many lovers that somehow felt like a completely new experience when it came from you. It made him feel loved, special. Safe.

And then it hit him, almost as hard and breathtaking as the time he caught a bullet in his vest right over his ribs, that he didn’t just love things about you. He didn’t just love the way you left your door unlocked for him. He didn’t just love the way you smiled at him when you would catch his eye after being apart. He didn’t just love the way you seemed to only have eyes for him. He didn’t just love the way you laughed at Steve’s antics, or the way the club lights danced in your eyes, or the way you anticipated his every move, every kiss, every thrust, every, every, every…

Javier Pena loved you.

All of those pieces and a thousand more that made you who you are. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, because Javier Pena didn’t do love, but how could he help himself when you were… well, you. So filthy and sweet and fierce all wrapped up into one beautiful woman, all for him. All his. Staring up at him with those bright, happy eyes as if there wasn’t a place in the world you would rather be than in his bed.

And he was terrified. Of losing you, of scaring you off. Terrified that he could never be worthy of having a person like you. But more than that, he felt lucky. He felt loved and appreciated and cared for, and it was more intoxicating than the whiskey he downed at the club hours earlier.

“I love you.” It was barely above a whisper, his voice still rough, and his heart pounded in his chest so loud he was certain you could hear it. A small, insecure part of him expected you to be disgusted, or to laugh in his face at the very idea, but it was buried under the way you lit up for him even more and reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers rubbing through the stubble he had forgotten to take care of that morning.

“I know.” You whispered. Javi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the relief and affection in his eyes when you didn’t outright reject him. He was easier to read than he realized. “I love you, too.”

[stanknotstark]

Toxic + Toxic = Healthy

Summary: You and Loki break up. Both of you deal with it uncharacteristically. Loki sleeps with girls that look like you and you mess around with Thor in retaliation. It’s all very healthy stuff here.

You and Loki had had an unceremonious falling out a couple weeks ago and called it quits on the relationship you had built. You had been dating for 6 months but Loki had started an argument about how you didn’t love him, that you lie to him, that you probably sleep with men behind his back. Everything was false, of course, you’d never do that to Loki and it hurt that he even thought that. So, you told him that you need some time to think and Loki having to have the last word said maybe breaking up is the best option. You agreed and while you saw the shock in Loki’s eyes at your agreement you were too pissed to care and left. 

What makes it awkward is that you both live in Stark’s tower and still have to interact with each other. What makes it even more awkward is that the rest of the Avengers walk on egg shells every time they’re in the same room as the both of you. 

You’re taking it like a champ, you feel. You only cry about it when you go to sleep at night, in the privacy of your own room. Sometimes when you spar with your teammates you might hit a bit harder than necessary. You even manage to speak with Loki civilly. On the outside it would appear that you’re completely fine with the break up, but on the inside and behind closed doors you’re literally falling apart. You’re sure the only person who realizes this is Natasha because that woman sees everything. 

You almost lose your composure the first time you see Loki bring a girl back to the tower. It’s only been three weeks and he’s already whoring around. You’re livid, he claims to love you then gets over you in three weeks? Bullshit. 

What you fail to realize at first is that the girl he brings to the tower kind of looks like you. It isn’t until you’re in the kitchen eating breakfast that you realize this. She comes in, only wearing one of Loki’s too large t-shirts and enjoys a bowl of cereal with you. 

You don’t get mad at the girl, you’re mad of course, but she’s not the problem. She doesn’t know what happened between you and Loki. She has no idea you even dated Loki. So you talk with her like you would any stranger. With a happy smile, a joyful voice, and morbid curiosity about having a new person in the tower. 

“It’s really cool to see the tower from the inside. I always look up and imagine what you guys live like.” The girl says with a smile at you. 

You smile back, “It’s pretty laid back, honestly. Nothing too exciting happens around here.” 

“That’s what it looks like,” The girl laughs a light laugh, “I doubt I’ll ever come back, Loki said it was a one time thing, but I’m happy I got the chance anyways.” 

You squint at the girl when she’s not looking at you because she’s eating her cereal and question everything. Loki doesn’t do one night stands. That’s what the god had told you the first time you both fell into bed together. He had explicitly stated. “If I bed you, I mean to have you forever, I do not play games when it comes to courting.”

You hum at the girl and truly look at her. Her hair is cut at about your length and although the color is a tiny bit off it’s still in the same general shade as yours. Her features are vastly different from yours but her body shape is almost exactly like yours too. 

At this conclusion you’ve thought of three things. One, Loki is trying to make you jealous. Two, Loki is showing there are many other girls just like you he can use. Three, Loki is still hung up on you and has really bad coping skills. 

You bring you mug up coffee to your lips as you ponder over your conclusion and raise your eyes when Natasha walks into the kitchen. She raises her brows at the girl, with a glance to you, who introduces herself as Nat reaches in the fridge and pulls a carton of eggs out. 

As Natasha waits for her pan to heat up so she may cook her eggs she questions the girl. 

“What is it you do?” 

“Oh, I’m an accountant for a small company here in-” The girl stops and looks at you, concerned when you start choking on your coffee, “-are you ok?” She asks, you nod still choking a little but get it under control. 

“I used to be an accountant, I started out with a small company based in Colorado then moved here when Stark offered me a better job.” You tell her. 

“Oh! I just started my job seeing how I just graduated, but it’s my dream to work for someone as significant as Tony Stark.” 

You smile and nod, “I’ll put in a good word for you, see if we can get you a promotion you can’t deny.” You say, glancing at Nat who is smirking devilishly at you. You truly do want the best for this girl but at the same time you’d like to see Loki squirm with his one night stand working in the same tower he resides in.  

The next time it happens is two days later. This time you’re in the common area with Bruce, teaching him how to play Minecraft at night when the elevator dings. You both look up and see Loki ravishing some poor girl on the elevator’s wall. They let out small moans and gasps. Then Loki turns and looks out the elevator to see you and Bruce staring at them, game completely forgotten. 

You’re sure Bruce is wide eyed and blushing like crazy, you can’t see his face seeing as he’s turned towards the elevator. However, you control your face and look bored with a raised brow at Loki. 

“My apologies, I thought I had pressed my floor.” Loki says.

The girl he was just basically eating up giggles and pokes her head around his body to look at you two. 

“We’re really sorry!” 

They both pull from each other but don’t truly stop touching, they’re just in a presentable position now. Loki pushes his correct floor number and you watch as they disappear in the elevator. 

When Bruce looks at you he’s not blushing or wide eyed. He actually looks a bit green in the face. 

“You ok?” You ask, confused. 

“It’s wrong of him to do that to you. He’s smart, has to have his floor memorized. The only way he’d hit this floor was because he knows you’re here.” Bruce says with a sigh, the green hue in his face receding. 

You chuckle, nodding to the controller in Bruces hand so he can continue harvesting his wheat. 

“It’s ok, he’s always been really bad when it comes to coping skills.” 

Bruce watches the TV as he harvests wheat but gives you a glance with a raised brow. 

“The women he’s bringing to the building look like me. Or at least the first one did for sure, I wasn’t really looking at this one. The last one even had the same job I used to have.”

Bruce frowns at the TV then realization dawns on his face. “Now that you mention it, this girl did have the same characteristics as you...” 

You hum with a small smile. “Loki is going to be Loki, I’m just trying my best to get over him and move on.” 

You watch as Bruce pauses the game and looks at you with an evil grin. You’re a little shocked because you’ve never seen the doctor show any emotions like this. His eyes are far away in thought, but he smirks with malicious intent. 

“What if you dated one of us? Not really, but in public you would kiss and hug, hold hands do all the couple stuff in front of Loki?” Bruce asks. 

Your face must be shocked because Bruce chuckles. 

Breaking from your shock you smirk back at the doctor. “And just who would I date?” 

Bruce thinks for a second, “Well Loki....” Then you see a sinister look come over his face. “Thor.”

You gasp and slap Bruce on the shoulder, “That’s evil, Bruce!”

Bruce chuckles and shrugs his shoulders with a now timid look on his face. 

“I live with a bunch of people that have perfected getting under each others skin, I’ve picked up on how to do it too.” 

“I’ll talk with Thor later. Tell him of your nefarious plan, it’s genius!” You say relishing in the fact that you’ll be able to break Loki’s heart more, the god deserves it you justify. 

You talk with Thor and kickoff the plan right away. The next morning, Loki actually comes in and has breakfast with his one night stand across from you at the table as you enjoy staring at the newspaper, waiting on Thor to come in. They’re being sickly cute, feeding each other, giggling, and just overall making you want to throw up. You know Loki is truly nothing like this, he’s just putting on a show for you. 

When Thor walks in he gives a big good morning, throwing you a smirk Loki misses because he’s too busy kissing ass to his girl. Thor makes coffee for you and brings it over to you. When he sets it in front of you he says, “Just how you like it!” 

Then Thor leans down and takes your lips into his. Thor really puts on a show and brings a hand up to caress at your jaw as he delves into your mouth with his tongue. When he pulls away you’re breathless and look up at him with adoration. Both the gods really know how to use their mouths...and tongues for that matter. 

You lick your lips and look at the girl Loki brought home when she makes a remark. 

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who got lucky!” She giggles. 

You smile at her, glance at Loki who is glaring daggers into you, then look back up to Thor as you raise your coffee mug to him and say, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Thor smiles down at you and offers to make you breakfast but you decline saying you need to help Tony with something. Before you leave the room Thor pulls you into another kiss, lets you go, and slaps your ass as you walk away. You give a small yelp and giggle. Enjoying every second you feel Loki glaring at you before you leave the kitchen. 

You spend a few hours with Tony just talking as he works on his suit. You came down here to hide and be happy at the whole situation that had just happened. Tony laughs uncontrollably when you tell him what’s going on. 

“This is either gonna turn into amazing make up sex or a really big argument.” Tony says, wiping a hand over his face, smearing it with oil. 

You laugh as you sit on his work table, swinging your legs. 

“As long as he hurts just as much as I do, I don’t care which one happens.” 

“That’s toxic.” Tony states without malice. “But so is Loki so it kind of cancels each other out, right?” He asks, throwing you a devious look tapping his wrench to his chin as he does. 

“Ya, we’ll go with that.” You say, jumping from the table, getting ready to leave the lab.

“Thanks for letting me hide for a bit.” You say.

“Anytime!” Tony says over his shoulder as you leave. 

You’re walking down the hallway to your room when Loki materializes out of nowhere and pins your to the wall. His left hand pins your waist to the wall, his right hand is balled in a fist and rests on the wall next to your face. His face is inches from yours, absolutely livid. 

“You play with fire without thinking about the consequences, sweetheart.” Loki spits out the nick name you used earlier.

“What? You didn’t expect me to fight back when you started fucking girls three weeks into our break up?” You ask through gritted teeth. “You were supposed to be in love with me Loki, if you were really in love you would have waited a bit longer.” 

Loki’s face turns to regret before he gets angry again. 

“You could have went for anyone other than my brother, you can’t act like you’re holier than me.” 

You scoff and push at Loki who doesn’t budge. “You started it when you brought home girls that look like me. Making me think I was expendable, replaceable.” You say, your voice cracking when you say replaceable. “I may act like I’m fine all the time but my heart is in pieces Loki. You decided to take my heart and step all over it like I meant nothing to you!” You begin crying.

Loki furrows his brows at your tears, like he actually cares that he’s the one who made them fall. 

You close your eyes so you don’t have to look at his face anymore. Silently crying there. You feel Loki wipe your tears with his right hand, his left hand keeps you pinned though which is smart because if you could break his grip you’d run from the situation. His right hand stops wiping at your tears when they stop falling and slides his hand down till it’s cusping your neck.

“That was not my intention.” Loki finally says in a soft voice. 

You open your eyes and frown at the god. “So it was just you trying to cope in a really bad way...” You say, deflating in his hold but leaning into his hand. You haven’t felt his touch in weeks and your body is practically craving it. You hate that you react like this. 

Loki gives a sad smile. “We are a concoction of toxic chemicals. We may not get a happy ending...” Loki whispers, his thumb caressing your jawline where his hand holds your neck, his eyes roaming over your face, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re worth every second.” Loki finishes, closing his eyes and kissing you.

You lean into the kiss, tasting Loki and losing yourself in his mouth as he dominates your weak fighting with tongue. His left hand comes up to grab your hair and pull at it causing you to gasp into his mouth. He practically swallows the gasp and moans. His right hand squeezes your neck then drifts down over your breast, making sure to flow over your nipple, and then grabs your hip in a bruising grip and pulls your body to arch into his. 

When you pull from his kiss you look into his eyes and see nothing but love and lust. Then it changes to a frown and insecurity. 

“Did you sleep with him?” Loki whispers, not sure he wants to know the answer. 

“No.”

Loki sighs and uses both hands to hug you into his body, burying his face in your neck. When he pulls away to look at you you see the love there again.

“I love you.” He says sweetly. 

You smile up at him, “I love you too.”