#i think there are two layers of questioning to deal with

[genderfluid-druid]

dropping thoughts like laundry into the aromanticism washing machine and watching them spin. taking little notes in a fancy journal titled "greyro??" and crossing them out, but then going back and scribbling an addendum. holding up an extravagant glass beaker full of a cool bubbling potion and peering at it through safety glasses that say "mind the amatonormativity!"

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates

word count: 4.6k

*can you guess what film it's based off of? where the title originates from?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 2

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“You got lost, didn’t you?” 

Sticking your tongue out at Charles, you take a seat next to his broad figure as you start applying coconut sunscreen. “Would it kill you to not gloat?” You narrow your unusually soft eyes like weapons. 

He playfully shudders. “Ooooh. My blood ran cold.”

Throwing the bottle over at his lap, he chuckles before lathering his tan body with the white goo. You try to not make it obvious, the way you steal glances at him. Everything makes sense all of a sudden; his odd obsession with anything that could cover his handsome features, the mysterious Ferrari, how he could go from making you laugh to keeping his mouth shut and looking down whenever anyone was around. 

He had kept this from you for a reason, that much is clear, but you would still give him a chance to open up. Sliding on a pair of sunglasses, you twist your body to sit cross cross. You fold your hands over your lap. “Truth or dare?”

The brunette tilts his head with hesitance. “Y-you don’t want to take a dip?” 

“Let’s lay out for a bit.” You poke him with your toe. “C’mon. Play with me.”

He sighs, pushing his hat downwards. “Dare.”

“Hmm…I dare you to…read me your last text message.”

“Easy.” Pulling out his phone, he scrolls for a bit before showing it to you. 

You’re walking the opposite way. I said near the fruit stand. 

Burning up, you push it down. “I don’t count.”

“You never specified.”

He wasn’t going to play easy and part of you respected that. Clicking your tongue, you extend your shiny legs. He gulps. Truth or dare? “Dare.” 

“Call the last person you spoke to.”

Growing nauseous at his request, you shake your head. “I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?”

You stutter. “M-my boss called to check up on me. Wanted to make sure I was a-actually on my deathbed and not just faking it, I can’t do that.” The Monegasque squinted his eyes teasingly before leaning back against the gray rocks.

“Fine. You get a pass.” You let out a breath of relief. “But I get one of those as well.”

You felt as if you were making a deal with the devil with the way he was watching you, waiting for an answer. He might use it against your benefit, but you had no choice. “Deal.”

“Good.” Flickering his green eyes towards the crystal blue tides, he chews on the inside of his cheek. “It's your turn.”

Be smart, don’t blow it. Deep down, you wanted to ask about the simpler things. Your favorite color? What was your childhood like? Was it better than mine? But that couldn’t matter more than what information you actually needed. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

You groan. How were you supposed to get all the juicy details out of him if he kept playing it safe? Nonchalantly, he waits. “I dare you to stop picking dares.” His face pales. You feel bad for putting him in that position, but he quickly snaps out of it.

“Truth or dare?”

Swallowing a thick layer or saliva, you purse your lips. “Truth.” 

“Why did you lie to your boss?”

You gape at his question as you think of a way to avoid it. All he knows is that you have a month off and chose Italy as your destination thanks to your amazing friends. He didn’t know anything about the sleepless nights of zero ideas that had you on the brink of being fired, the reason you needed this article to work. Not only would it set your career, but it would also give you the respect you so desperately looked for in everyone who looked down on you.

“She would never let me come to Italy if I told her I need a break from all the pressure, y’know?”

Waves crash noisily as he frowns. “Mhm.”

“My turn. What’s your occupation?”

“I already told you,” he laughs, brown curls flowing against the summer breeze. “I work with cars.” A gist of hope zaps your heart as you wait for the rest. “I’m a mechanic.”

He wasn’t going to tell you - he didn’t trust you. Melancholy register across your face as you rise up carefully. “I’m in the mood to swim now.”

-

Life for the Scuderia Ferrari driver moves at a  fast pace, always on the go and traveling all around the world. At just 26 years old, the Monegasque has collected 5 wins and an impressive number of podiums, all while maintaining the longest Scuderia contract in history. 

But do we really know Charles Leclerc in his everyday life? A man without any responsibilities? 

Fortunately for us, I was able to sit down and speak to Il Predestinato as he he walks us through his routine for when he’s not on track-

“What are you working on? Seeing you be so quiet is bone-chilling.”

Poking your tongue out like a slithering snake, you feverishly slam your computer shut as you flip him off. “Catching up with friends. What can I say? The people love me.” The 26 year old rolls his eyes before picking up on his scribbles. Tippy toeing closer to him, you try to inspect the messy writing. “What is that?”

“Fuck, you scared me, you little gnome.” Hiding his small journal, you immediately push out your bottom lip.

“Show me! Show me! Show me!”

Clumsily, he opens it. “Grocery list.” But it's more than that. His letter isn’t easy to read, but it'll get you there. Diary entries. Blinking up at your roommate, you wiggle your brows. What’s it say? “Nothing important.” You don’t press him on it, but that doesn’t stop the curiosity from stirring inside of you. He stiffens. “Let’s go before they close.”

Pebbles crunch underneath your ballet flats as you sing softly. He smiles, content with the serene atmosphere. What song is that? Your jaw drops, stopping dead in your tracks. It takes him a while to realize you're not skipping next to him anymore. “Tell me you’re joking…”

“I’m joking.”

“Charles!” you wail as you fling your arms. “Beyond the Sea? Bobby Darin?” His face doesn’t change as he bats his eyes blankly. You gasp. “We’ll meet, I know we’ll meet beyond the shore. We’ll kiss just as before-.” 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Playfully, you shiver, clutching your heart. “It isn’t good to be uncultured, Charlie.” The way you spit out his new nickname has him grasping how much he loves it - so long it's coming from you. Pulling out your phone from your back pocket, you wave your finger like some principal. “I’ll play it for you.”

The Monegasque shakes his head. “No, just sing it to me like you were.”

You sincerely don’t have a single clue where all this unknown courage comes from, but you oblige. All the way to the local farmers market, he’s grinning ear to ear. From your voice sounding angelic, to it cracking as you would try to intimidate Darin, he feels fortunate to see this side of you. 

Entering the sliding doors, you grab a basket as you drag him, shoes squeaking from the sudden pull. “We’re not here for snacks, we’re here for food. Y’know - vegetables, rice, chicken-”

“I need something sweet!” you complain as your doe eyes glimmer at the sight of the Italian desserts. “If I don’t get it in my system I will die. Do you want me to die?” 

“At this moment, it doesn’t sound half bad.” You gawk at his dark humor. Taking the tiny basket from you, he makes his way to the produce section. “Grab whatever you need. I’ll be right back.”

Once his back faces you, you feel your phone vibrating. “Amelia!” Your cheery friend waves excitedly. Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you for days! Wincing, you place your phone on top of a box of cookies. “I’ve been gone for five days, please relax. Plus, I’m fine. Enjoying my time off.”

Your friend snickers. “I still need updates to make sure you aren’t dead in a ditch.” Making an exaggerated face, you nod and the blonde giggles. “Don’t make me fly out there. Unlike you, I will demand a year off if needed.” 

“Oh, I believe you,” you murmur, hand reaching for a box of Baci Pergunia. “How are you guys surviving without your third wheel?”

“Stop it, you,” she hisses. “Instead, why don’t you fill me in - any cute tourists?” You freeze midair, already angling your body to grab bonelle jellys. 

“I’m not too focused on any of that..” 

“Of course not because you’re too busy daydreaming about Grayson,” she teases. “Honey! She’s missing him, I told you!” Bullshit, Roman yells back from the kitchen.

“Will you two stop it?” you grit. 

“Yes, darling,” Roman talks gingerly. “Will you please stop planning a wedding?” Your jaw drops while your friend nervously giggles. He’s joking. 

“Enough about me, what are you two doing? What’s on the menu?” 

The brunette’s eyes crinkle, showing off his blurry screen. “Sicilian meatball soup.” 

“Lucky!” you groan. “You’re messed up for cooking your grandma’s recipe while I’m not there.” He shrugs. 

“We miss you so we both decided to make an Italian dish.” She emphasizes her words as he smiles bitterly. “It’s like you’re here with us.”

“She cried for an hour or so. It was the only way I could calm her down.” Amelia bites the air at her boyfriend. He leaps back, returning to stirring the sauce. “I cook because I love you, stop that.”

You throw your head back with laughter. “Again, not dead, but I’m touched.” Hearing a bag crinkle, you look down the aisle and spot Charles making his way over. “Gotta go! Call you as soon as I can!”

“Wow, you’ve managed to grab all the snacks in the entire store,” Charles teases as he points to your stack. “Got you chips, too.”

“You’re not helping,” you grunt as you take it from him. He hands you your own basket for your treats. Cramming them all in, he examines you before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So, Grayson’s the boyfriend?” 

“Ha! I wish. He’s my boss’ son. Way out of my league.”

His jaw clenches. “Don’t think like that. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Then, he walks away, leaving you to follow after him like a lost puppy. You’re wary around him after that encounter, so you make sure to stand a few steps behind, waiting for him to finish paying. “What are you doing?”

“Che cosa?”

Sauntering over, he reaches down to take your things. Your breath gets caught in your throat from the sudden proximity. “I got it.” 

Bewildered, you start retreating all the sweets. “You don’t need to do that, you’re already paying for the other things. This one’s on me.” He scrunches his nose.

“That’s endearing, but I can’t. I’m on a diet.”

“Why?” You’re genuinely confused, and can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “You look perfectly fine to me.”

He smirks. “Really?”

“I m-mean I think so,” you stammer. “But how would I know, I’ve never been on a diet.” Charles' watercolor eyes trickle all the way down before dancing back up. Butterflies flutter inside of you. 

“You don’t need it, trust me.” A pause. “I’ll pay for your things, it’s really no problem. Though I do ask you not to blame me when your teeth rot.” 

“Jerk!” you quip when he walks away, laughing loudly. You smile at the sound.

-

“You need to stop gobbling up all that crap, if not you’re not going to eat any of what I’m cooking,” his voice warns you. Setting the bag of gummies down, you kick your bare feet against the cabinets. 

Has it been an hour? Two? You can’t remember but it sure did smell good. He had asked you to just sit still and fix up a playlist while he prepared dinner, so there really wasn’t much to do. Are you almost done? Focused on cutting up a piece of onion, he shakes his head. A minute passes by before asking again. Not done, wait. 

As soon as your stomach grumbles, he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. You chuck a carrot at him as he cackles. “Ta-da!” Inspecting the nicely done dish, you throw a thumbs up. Grabbing a spoon, you’re about to dive in before he slides the plate away. Your lips form a thin line. “Take your time. Really enjoy it - it’s flavor, it’s scent-”

“Jesus, fine. Give it before I bite your cheek off,” you growl. Glaring at him, you dip your utensil in slowly. He applauds before pulling out his phone and pressing record. “Is that really necessary?”

“You might not realize it, but this is a monumental moment.” Bowing his head, he urges you to try it. You shrug once, wrapping your lips around the spoon and let's just say - you’ve always had a killer poker face.

“Delicious, chef!” 

“Putain oui!” He puts his phone away. “What did you like about it? The pepper helped, didn't it?”

You grimace. “I want my two hours back.” His smile dies down. Seriously? Yanking the spoon from your grip, he tries the colorful soup and winces at the saltiness. 

“I followed step by step, why does this shit keep happening?” 

The Monegaque truly does seem bummed out as his shoulders sag, glasses sliding down his pointy nose. Scooting closer, you pat his shoulder awkwardly. “You need some serious help.” He shoots a deadpan look as you giggle. “I’m kidding! It’s not that bad.” Jumping off the counter, you tug the nearest apron. “Let me try.”

It takes another two hours, but you figure it out eventually. Standing tall, you place your hands behind your back. The Monegasque eyes the food. “Now, I want you to take your time. Really enjoy it, it’s flavor-”

“Stop it,” he grumbles before diving in. His eyes open wide as you wiggle against your heels excitedly. “You can’t be real.”

“Is it good?”

He nods enthusiastically, brown hair jumping up and down. “H-how did you…” Polishing your nails, you fake a bored expression. By praying. It’s looks as if he’s deeply considering your advice for a second but when you howl out, he flushes. 

“Don’t be so gullible, Charlie. Roman’s grandma taught me. I spent Christmas with him and Amelia.”

His face softens up. “What about your parents?” 

“We’re not close like that.” You confess so unbothered that it has him fluttering his eyes for a while. “Don’t feel bad - I do just fine. They call me on my birthday.” Metal clinks against the porcelain plate as he huffs, firm chest rising up before deflating.

“That’s the fucking standard.” You raise a brow. Why are you upset with me? “I’m not. It’s just that it’s not fair that they treat you like garbage just because you didn’t fulfill their wish. Or that you let others trample over you like a piece of shit.” You flinch. “Y-you know what I mean…”

“Sure,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Enjoy the food, Charles.”

-

He feels guilty for making you feel bad, but he wasn’t lying. It bugged the crap out of him that you floated through life thinking everything was okay. He’s never met Amelia or Roman, but he felt a strong gratitude towards the couple for treating you with genuine care. But you had filled him in on the rest; they way others would look down on you - all while you wore a miserable smile. I’m used to it by now. Doesn’t even bother me. 

Charles was always in the limelight - always probably will be - but he also knows he signed up for it. He knew fake smiles like the back of his hand. Whether it was a pretty girl trying to get money out of him or sponsors trying to get close to him just for fame. If it weren’t for his friends back home, he definitely would have lost faith in humanity. 

And then there was you. Someone so kind, who puts others' needs before yourself. You didn’t have to check up on him that day at the beach, you didn’t have to help him or give him shelter but you did. He thought you would be some crazy fan but when you blinked up at him like a curious expression, he could tell you didn’t know who he was. 

The Monegasque felt relieved that you treated him without any special treatment, that you saw him for who he really was, not just some F1 driver. He owes it to you to make things right and apologize.

He finds you eating a pint of gelato as you stare blankly at the eggshell wall. “Did you save me some?” You jump at the sound of his deep voice. Halfway done, you respond red-faced. You can have the rest. Leaning against the table, he shakes his head. “Let’s just share.”

You’re sure you can hear Amelia and Roman bickering from how quiet it is, but don’t dare to utter a single word. It’s bad enough that he knows that his words got to you, how can you look him in the eye? 

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Peeking over at the brunette, you admire his side profile before humming. He continues. “But at the same time I don’t regret it.”

You laugh dryly. “Wow, this is some apology.”

Clearing his throat, he cages your body against the wooden furniture. “I’m serious - I don’t.” Avoiding eye contact, you stare at the sides of your bare thighs where his large hands lay. Suddenly the room feels suffocating. “You do need to stop letting others decide what to think about yourself. You need to stop pleasing everyone around you. Your parents, Eleanor, shit, even me.”

The green eyed boy begins to get blurry as your eyes foolishly well up. “I don’t do th-”

“Yes, yes you do, do that.” His accent comes out stronger than intended. You let out a shaky breath, then beam up at him. Okay, I’ll stop. He grinds his teeth together. “No. Don’t agree just because I’m telling you - do it for yourself because you want to.”

“I want to,” you whisper meekly. 

His heart breaks at the sight of you answering untruthfully but does say anything else. Instead, he hauls you off the table, planting you onto your feet. “Grab a sweater and meet me by the door in five minutes.”

-

He’s for sure going to murder you, Amelia was right after all. Shit, you mutter underneath your breath as he pulls onto the hills. The view was great - for sure a nice way to go if that’s the last thing you’ll ever see. 

Following him out, you pinch down on your denim shorts. Was it too late to run away? He left the key in the engine, maybe you could leave him stranded? 

“I’m not going to kill you, you can relax.”

Blood rushes to the tip of your ears. “What are we doing here at…” You check your phone. “Two in the morning?”

“Yell.”

You quirk your head curiously. “I’m sorry, say that one more time.”

He extends his arms out, enjoying the cool breeze. “Just do it. No one’s going to hear you.”

“That sounds like something a killer would say. Can I get a ten minute head start?”

He rolls his green eyes. “Trust me, it helps a lot. My trainer has me do it all the time.” You raise your brows. “I- uh- box during my free time. My boxing trainer has me do it when I’m too stressed.”

Ignoring his slip up, you shake your head. “I can’t scream, that’s weird.” His pink lips turn downwards. “You’re going to judge me!”

“I won’t!” Covering his ears, he signals at you. “Not a thing.”

You bite down on your sweater before shaking your buzzing hands. Once and he’ll drop it. Ahh, you let out weakly before smiling brightly. “You’re right. That was great!” Turning on your heels, you begin to skip away before he tugs on your sweater, flinging you back. 

“Not even the crickets heard you. Try again.”

“I did do it, you just didn’t like it.” 

“I’m not letting you leave until you do it the right way.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he peacefully shuts his eyes, enjoying nature's lullaby. He seems to let his guard down because before he knows it, he hears the Ferrari engine loud and clear. “Don’t you dare leave,” he warns as he runs up to his car. 

“Get home safe, Charlie!” you squeal as you step on the gas. Chasing after you, he ends up standing in front of the car as you shriek. As quickly as you can, you step off the break but the tip still manages to hit the Monegasque. You scream at the brutal sight. 

Scurrying out of the car, you drop down next to him as you flip him onto his back. His pretty eyes remain closed as he lays still. Wake up Charles, I’m too young to go to jail! Do you know how hard it is to prove your innocence when you’re a foreigner? You delicately tap his cheek but his head only rolls back. You yell out in panic as you let go of his heavy body. 

“Oh God, oh God, holy shit, holy fuck,” you whimper as you pace back into the red car. Squeezing your eyes tightly, you place your hands over the steering wheel as you think about what just happened. Amelia was going to kill you. Eleanor would personally write a whole article about you. 

“You were seriously going to leave me for dead?” a voice interrupts your thoughts as you scream. You face Charles and he yells back at the sudden ring. 

“What the shi- You’re alive!” Jumping over the console, you hug him, barely giving him room to breathe. Groaning in pain, he pushes you back. You hop off as you grab his left hand and raise up four fingers. “How many am I holding up?”

“Fingers? I have ten.”

Your heartbeat travels to your throat as you squirm. “I broke him.” Images of you behind bars enter your mind as you plead Charles to drop the charges. Amelia and Roman would travel to visit you in jail but only to demand their money back. You’d be in complete debt for the rest of your life and oh God what if the Italinas had a thing for the electric chair-

“I’m teasing,” he laughs as he rubs his head. “It hurts like a motherfucker, though, but hey, at least you let it all out.” Wacking his arm, you glare sternly.

“You did that on purpose?”

Grunting, he inches away. “I did not, are you crazy? But it helped you! How do you feel?”

You narrow your fiery eyes. “Angry…mad.” That's the same thing, he points out as you scowl. Nevermind. “I feel good.”

All smug, he leans against the passenger's seat. “I told you it would help.”

“Huh,” you let out in astonishment. 

-

It started out with a simple argument - pesto or tomato sauce. You were leaning more towards the green paste but he held onto his end stubbornly. Honeymoon phase is over? Spinning to face a little boy with whipped cream all over his cheeks, he quirks his head. My dad always likes to say - happy wife, happy life. Walking away, you’re both left with your mouths hung open as you put the ingredients down. 

“Did we just get scolded by a some little fucker?” 

Gasping at his words, you smack the side of his head. He yelps. “No Charles, he basically called us old! We’re ancient!”

“Nonsense. He’s just being dumb.”

Glaring, you put your hands on your hips as you pace the aisle. “What if he’s right? What if we are on the verge of death?” He laughs. All because he thought we were married? Closing in to his tall figure, you pinch your face up. “A married couple spend their life together - growing old. He called us old!” You walk fast down the supermarket as you run wild hands through your hectic hair.

Hurrying after you, he pants. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find him.” He comes to a sudden stop. And do what exactly? Tossing your head back, you groan in frustration. “I don’t know! Whoop him or something like that.”

The Monegasque lets out a snicker. Your face twists up. “Let’s just calm down.” I am calm, you grunt. He clicks his tongue. 

“We need to do something,” you declare. He sighs. Forgetting all about your errands, you drag him out of the store. Bright eyes flicker across the busy streets as you huff. Then you spot it. “We’re going.”

The brunette squints his eyes as he reads the small print. Amalfi Club. Theme: Halloween costumes. He scoffs. “But it isn’t even October.”

But your mind is set. “It’s perfect.” Bumping against his shoulder, you beam. “Looks like we can turn back time after all.”

-

Ballerina for me, you cheer. And Stormtrooper for you? You narrow your eyes in confusion. “I’m sorry, how do you even know Star Wars exists? Aren’t you French?”

“Monegasque,” he corrects you before frowning. “Stars Wars is a global success. Being from Monaco doesn’t mean we don’t know anything, thank you very much.” 

You shrug. “Be a tiny bit more grateful that I found our costumes on such short notice.” Yeah, yeah, he yawns. “I’m so excited!” you squeal as you finish tying your pink ribbon. You would for sure have a terrible headache by the end of the day. “Won’t you sweat with a helmet all night?”

“I think I’ll be able to handle it.”

It’s so crowded - packed - that your roommate has to practically shove you in as you yelp, arm swatting your tutu down. A cheap looking Tinkerbell gives you the death glare when you step on her foot. I can’t fucking breath! The Stroomtopper mask tilts as he brings his gloved hands to your shoulder. Do you want to leave?

“No!” A beat. “Let me just go get us a drink.”

Zipping past him, you can hear him calling after you but you choose to ignore since you knew he would drag you back to the shared Airbnb. Just water, you chime in as the bartender nods, eyeing your perky tits. Frowning, you pout somberly. “Ignore him,” a deep voice rips you away from your thoughts as you face them. 

Is everyone just okay with melting their face off? The towering man wears a red jumpsuit with the infamous Dali mask. “I like your costume. I binge watched all of Casa De Papel in a singular night.” Your cheeks flush when you realize you’re rambling. He chuckles richly.

“Thought I’d look cool.

There’s an award silence as you wait. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you scrunch your nose in disgust. “You must be sweaty beneath all that,” you ponder, fingers signals to the white mask. He sighs, wide shoulders rolling back. I’m thinking I might faint. A bright giggle slips past your lips and he grins from underneath, even if can’t see. “You remind me of my friend. He would rather die than take his helmet off. He’s a Strormtrooper,” you add. 

Large hands come up as he pushes the hoodie off, messy brown locks coming into view. Stubborn, aren’t we? You nod, thanking the man who comes back with your glass of water. “I should go find him…”

A heavy pant flows from the mysterious man. You’re leaving? He coughs to cover up his neediness. His accent makes your cheek burn up. “I sort of left him,” you respond sheepishly. He chuckles, finally taking his mask off, beads of thin sweat painingting his large nose. You breath hitches, waves of recognition hitting you all at once.

“Valid.” He extends his tan hand towards you. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm

[harrysonlylover]

At All Costs

Summary: The ruthless special agent reveals his other side when Y/n gets hurt in the field

Trope: Agent! Harry

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of physical violence, blood, mean harry, protective harry.

Main Masterlist

The training facility was buzzing with agents who rushed back and forth in confusion and fear.

They’re not supposed to be gathered here, this is not where they meet up nor where they should be right now. But once the chief sends an order, no questions are asked.

They bumped into each other like scaredy cats and it was ironic considering all the strength training they were subjected to. The stamina and physical strength they yielded evaporated once he stepped into the room. He’s been stern since day one, only a fool would make eye contact with him or disobey his orders.

As the chief, authority, and discipline radiated off him but this time it was different. He appeared psychotic, murderous even.

No one wanted to stand before him and report what happened, the furrow between his eyebrows, and the clenching of his fists were enough to zip mouthes.

“What is this fucking shitshow?!” His furious voice echoed through the room as agents lowered their gaze to the ground.

It seemed like he was ready to rip off their heads one by one for the mess they made. His left hand was bandaged, showing a layer of blood beneath it. Sweat covered his forehead and his hair that used to be styled was now messy and all over his face.

His bulletproof vest was practically useless. No one would dare to aim their gun in his way; not even the enemy.

“Agent Styles, I—I c-an explain.” A voice sounded out in the back and everyone else moved to allow the ‘brave guy’ to come forward.

It wasn’t really about bravery. Agent Marks was in charge of assigning field agents and pairing them with each other. The order that was given to him by Agent Styles a few months ago regarding Y/n’s safety was heavily violated.

No one knew about the order except these two, and when Marks’ eyes met Harry’s raging ones; he realised he’d probably utter his last words right now.

“Explain what? How you fucked up and paired a little bitch that’s full of himself with Y/n?” He didn’t need to shout, the anger in his voice naturally made his tone higher and more violent.

“I’ll deal with him, sir.” Marks’ voice came out shaky. He tried to stand his ground but there was no escape from the humiliation he was being subjected to.

The room was completely silent. No one wished to breathe loudly, and they set their eyes everywhere except Styles’ direction.

“I already took care of him.” He spat, as drops of venom dripped with every word. His bandaged hand was proof of his deadly anger; let alone the traces of blood on his face and hands.

All agents and trainees in the room cursed their luck for being here at this time. No one expected this to happen and they definitely did not think Harry Styles was capable of caring for someone.

Agents got injured almost daily in the field. If it was a mess up, there would be a small lecture about it followed by intensive training but this? This incident turned Harry into a murderous man.

Y/n took a bullet in her left shoulder and was brought to the training facility since it was the nearest agents’ center. Her injury wouldn’t have allowed her to hold on till they reached the hospital, so Harry sent an order for the best medics to come here.

As soon as he heard the news, it was obvious that something was off. He’s a direct and stern chief, it takes him a few seconds to spew out orders for everyone. But once Y/n’s name was announced as the ‘fallen agent”, hell broke loose.

Stanley Browns was Y/n’s partner in this mission, they were given instructions to raid a drug cartel’s secret hideout, but when the mission went sideways Browns abandoned Y/n in the middle of being cornered by armed men.

It’s a miracle that she survived and managed to escape their trap, Harry’s heart clutched at the thought of her fighting for her life without him being there to help her.

Did she use one of his tricks that he taught her?

“Everyone out now!” A familiar voice shouted prompting everyone in the room to bump into each other as they fled away.

Harry was still standing, shooting daggers at Agent Marks who was already aware of the beating Stanley earned.

The news of how he almost met death spread faster than Y/n’s injury. A few agents found him after he ran away from the mission and handed him in to Harry who was seeing red at the time.

Over five men had to pull him away after he knocked Stanley unconscious. He just wouldn’t stop punching him, his face was unrecognizable and blood covered the ground beneath them. He may have survived, but will most likely never walk again. It took them a while to get Harry away from him as he kept shouting death promises.

The veins along his neck and forehead, his trembling hands, and his labored breaths were enough to make anyone avoid him. At this point, it was clear that Y/n’s injury was personal to him.

Zayn who ordered agents to leave signaled for Marks to do the same as Harry’s eyes darted to the hallway that led to the room Y/n is in.

“Go check on her.” Zayn’s hand patted Harry’s back who didn’t think twice before walking away.

The grip she had on him was insane, and he didn’t even realize it. He just acted on his first instincts when it came to her. There was nothing official between them, not even romantic gestures. It was simply angry sex.

Y/n had gotten into the program one year ago, she did not fear anyone, was full of herself, and challenged her superiors when she felt like it. At some point, Harry had to supervise her and he certainly didn’t like being talked back to.

Lectures and punishments didn’t work on her, he secretly admired her tough and cocky personality. It didn’t take him long to start admiring her body as well, and the rest was history.

No romantic feelings were involved, or so he thought. The fact that he almost killed a man for her did not really settle in. The same way he walked to the room she was in without thinking twice.

She was placed on a bed with medical cables attached to her body. Her shoulder was wrapped and Harry winced once he caught a glimpse of it.

He sat down on the chair next to the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t bear looking at her face that he searched for during training and stared at in secretive awe.

This should have never happened.

He didn’t want to think about her pain, how she might have wanted him to come for her, and he definitely did not wish to think about what would’ve happened if she wasn’t such a brave girl.

He had a reputation for being cold and strict, yet he felt like his throat was closing up because a girl who pushed his buttons was injured.

He might have gone a bit too far… but it’s nothing compared to the gestures he’s been doing recently, starting from ordering Marks to protect her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone all sad now.” Her voice made his head shoot upward only to find her forcing a weak smile.

He was up on his feet in a few seconds. “Are you in pain?”. He looked around like frantically for water and pain-killing pills.

“I already took some Harry.” Despite her injury, Harry’s actions were all she could hear about from the medics. Apparently, everyone was talking about it. The news was a natural pain relief, she never expected Harry to care for her in a million years. It was what she had secretly wished for, catching feelings for him was inevitable.

They were oblivious to the shift that occurred between them. More sex than usual, sleeping in each other’s bed and cuddling, sneaking between training, and most importantly kissing. Harry felt like a madman if he didn’t taste her lips for more than a day.

“I know what you did.”

“It was the right thing to do.” He replied automatically as he stared at her pale face.

“It’s always right or wrong for you.” She shook her head in disapproval.

“He caused this.” His hands gripped the bed rail tightly, he was once again reminded of his failure to protect her.

“Agents get injured all the time Harry.”

“You’re not any agent. You’re my fucking love.” His voice was shaky at the end and tears began to well up in his eyes.

Y/n gazed at him in shock, unable to process what he just confessed.

He loves her?

“I—“ He interrupted her by pressing his lips to her temple and cradling her face in his hands.

“Rest baby. I promise you this will never happen again. I’d rather die before it does.” He whispered , unbothered by showing his vulnerable side because he almost lost her.

“I can’t die without telling you that I love you.” Tears streamed down her face as he pressed one peck after the other to her lips.

“You also won’t have someone to disobey you during training.” She earned a vibrant chuckle from him that went straight through her heart. It was rare to see Harry Styles smiling and of course, it would be because of her.

“You know I only like it when you disobey me at certain times.”

“I guess my days of mischief are gone now.” She sighed dramatically as her fingertips held onto Harry’s.

“Oh no, how will you survive?”

“Kisses. Lots of them.”

“Then you will heal quickly little minx.”

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf

[lexsssu]

Naive (Alhaitham)

TAGS: Alhaitham/F!Bunny!reader, friends to lovers, pining, yandere, possessive behavior, obsession, mating cycles/heats, oneshot Ao3 ver.

“Why do we have to learn more math even if our major has nothing to do with it? At this rate, I’m going to flunk and take it again next semester…”

Alhaitham’s fingers twitched unconsciously as your pair of long ears drooped down, hanging by the sides of your face almost as if they were pigtails instead of actual appendages.

“What the heck am I going to need calculus for when I’m trying to develop improved cultivation tools and methods? It’s not like I need to find out the value of X while I’m plowing the fields or something…”

His heartbeat is delayed for a single second at the mention of ‘plowing fields,’ and he has no one else to thank other than the hormonal male Akademiya students who’d made one or two passing unsolicited remarks about Amurta’s only female beastkin student.

He made sure to memorize their faces and names for him to deal with at a later date.

“Alhaitham, help meeee…!” 

Despite being a proud descendant of the Taguel, the way you so easily beg and plead so submissively at him with large watery eyes and a pout formed by a pair of luscious lips has him wondering if you were unconsciously using some sort of secret seduction techniques passed on through your clan. Perhaps you were even secreting some sort of pheromones that made him calmer, more relaxed, and susceptible to your whims…

“Knowledge always comes at a price. I’m willing to tutor you, but you’ll owe me a single favor that you can’t refuse and which I can redeem at any time of my choosing,” bright turquoise orbs darkened as he leaned his head against his curled right fist. “Are you still willing to pursue this knowledge despite the costs?”

“Of course! I trust you, Alhaitham. So why would I be scared about the favor I’ll be owing you for this? Knowing you, you’ll probably make me do some paperwork or help with your research,” you giggle, the fluffy cotton ball of a tail you had wagging at how silly your friend was. 

Why would you ever be afraid of him when he’d been nothing but honest with you? Alhaitham wasn’t some random cur that tricked hapless maidens into his slimy grasp.

If only you knew just how depraved he truly was when it came to you. 

Then again, it is his luck that his adorable little bunny was such an innocent creature that only saw the best in him.

It’s up to him to make sure no one ever takes advantage of your kindness and naivety.

Even if it means he has to carefully plan and wait for the right time to finally express his true desires, he is willing to be patient. Especially when he knows that you are what awaited him at the end.  

You remain blissfully unaware of his thoughts and intentions, not even questioning him or thinking how odd it was for him to have you sit on his lap as he taught you your most dreaded subject.

Alhaitham is a good man and an even greater friend.

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

You both graduate within the same year with, as expected, flying colors, much to the joy of your respective families. It’s a solemn yet joyous affair, one that you invited him to because how could you not when it was with his help that you managed to even graduate with honors?

There is sure to be some teasing courtesy of your family once you get home, but that is the last thing on your mind as you leap into Alhaitham’s strong arms.

Even through the layers of your graduation attire, you feel the wall of solid muscle that is his body, something that always amazed you when he was one of the most brilliant scholars in Sumeru.

“Thank you, Alhaitham. I wouldn’t have been able to get this far without you always having my back,” you don’t notice the way his sandstone-colored irises seem to dilate as you curl around him, your entire body supported by a single arm around your soft waist while another hand settles upon the plushness of your bum.

Being so close to you like this allows him a whiff of your scent, a mix of soft floral and woody notes with a hint of fruity and citrus underneath. He feels his body heating up from the inside as his senses are assaulted by your voice, your body, and even your smell.

He won’t be able to last long if you keep this up.

Don’t you know how much you drive him crazy?

Rational thoughts come second to instincts when it comes to you, something your kind is very much familiar with.

If there aren’t so many people right now, he’ll throw you onto the grassy ground and mount you right here. He’ll put a whole litter of kittens in your belly and take care of you and your new family for the rest of his days—

Somehow, he manages to keep himself from making a scene by fucking you right in front of your family and the entire Amurta faculty, namely your master, Sage Naphis, whose short temper was legendary throughout the Akademiya. 

However, each day that passes and each small action you make only wears his thinning patience and self-control. It’s not a question of ‘if,’ but rather a question of ‘when,’ and only the Archons know when that will be.

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

“So…Acting Grand Sage, huh? I always knew you’d go on to do great things, but Sumeru’s de-facto leader? Makes me wonder why you’re even hanging out with a country bumpkin like me~” Sticking your tongue out playfully and winking at him, you miss the way he swallows seemingly nothing but air.

“Don’t be absurd. Who I associate with of my own volition is no one’s business but my own.” 

Although he may look and sound cold at first glance, you have known Alhaitham long enough to know for sure that he simply has his own ways of showing he cares. He wouldn’t let Kaveh stay at his place if he didn’t care about his friend after all. And even if the scribe wanted to be stubborn about it initially, you simply offered to house Kaveh instead, which ended up with the architect staying at Alhaitham’s in the end.

It’s honestly downright adorable how contradictory he could be at times, seemingly wanting to maintain an unbothered and uncaring attitude when you knew full well how good of a friend he was.

If only you knew that the real reason why he allowed Kaveh room and board was that he’d sooner gut the other man than let him stay in the same house as you. 

He’d gouge the architect’s eyes out if they even settled too long on you.

It’s one of the reasons you’ve come to harbor feelings for him.

He is handsome, he is brilliant, but most of all, he is kind even when you have nothing to give him in return aside from your time and friendship.

You repeatedly stamp down the warm bubbly feelings within you that try to rise to the surface, repeatedly telling yourself that there is no chance that such a fine specimen as Alhaitham would return your affections.

Archons know just how many times you’d fingered yourself to thoughts of him during your heats. How you imagined scenarios of him coming to you in the dead of night, whispering sweet nothings and promises of breeding you full, just as nature had intended.

But there’s no way that could ever happen…right?

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

"'m sorry…didn't know…it'd come early this…year…!" 

You are a pitiful mess as you lie on the grassy ground, your body overheating from the inside as the symptoms of your heat swiftly overtake all rational thought. According to your calendar, it wasn’t supposed to happen for another few days!

He memorized the exact dates of your cycle, so he knows full well just when you’ll be perfectly ripe and ready for the taking.

Had you not forced his hand in the first place, he’d have gladly waited for your regular heat.

“Don’t l-look at me…Haitham…!” 

How can he not look upon the stunning sight of you looking so hot and disheveled because of your need to be mated and bred? It is a sight he will commit to memory for the rest of his life.

You desperately force down the beastly instincts that urge you to submit to the nearest virile male and present your soaked cunt that begged to be bred. It is humiliating, especially because Alhaitham is forced to watch your lewd and debauched display. 

It brings him such glee at the knowledge that no one will ever get to see you like this. 

Whether it was your upperclassman Tighnari, your friend Cyno, or even Kaveh, none of them will ever have this privilege.

You don’t even want to think about how you’ll face him after this.

Because why would he ever want a mere beast like you?

It is his misfortune that he wasn’t born a beastman like you were. However, he’ll make sure to make up for what he lacked tenfold.

You sniffle, feeling small tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body and mind fight one another. Your hands move to cover your face, unwilling to let him see any more of the pitiful sight you made.

There’s no need for you to look for a mate from the other beastkin clans.

He’d rather burn Gandharva Ville to the ground than hand you over to the likes of Tighnari. 

Just because the other male was your senior and studied under the same sage didn’t mean that he’ll let that damnable fox sink his claws into you. 

“No. I believe I have a better solution for your plight,” with one hand, he pins both your wrists above you as he settles himself in between your legs.

“Mate with me.”

His words send a shock through your body, floppy bunny ears standing ramrod straight as you gaze up at him with large eyes, heart beating like a drum as the weight of his statement registers in your mind.

“Don’t you see? It’s simply because our bodies are compatible with one another that your heat opted to arrive earlier than expected. Your body already knows what your mind has yet to even comprehend,” Alhaitham’s turquoise orbs seemed like they were almost glowing in the dark as they gazed down at you like a predator eyeing its prey.

You were always the only one meant for him, even if you didn’t realize it at first.

And yet, you don’t feel a single ounce of fear.

Rather, you want to be devoured by him.

You want him to stuff you full with his cum again and again until his seed takes root in your awaiting womb and bears fruit.

You want him and will gladly take everything he’ll give you.

“Alhaitham…mate with me, please?”

[vaguely-concerned]

In light of the info about the properties of souls in The Unwanted Guest, I want to shout out that Gideon — with no grounding in the theoretical underpinnings of the subject whatsoever — actually makes basically the same observation about the permeability of the soul at the end of Harrow the Ninth, when she's in Harrow's body and (with some justification) is pretty sure she's about to die in the River:

Harrowhark, did you know that if you die by drowning, apparently your whole life flashes in front of your eyes? I didn't know, as I died and took you along with me—having kept you alive for what, a whole two hours?—whether it was going to show me both. Like, at the end of everything, if it was going to be you and me, layered over each other as we always were. A final blurring of the edges between us, like water spilt over ink outlines. Melted steel. Mingled blood. Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last.

‘As we always were’! ‘Melted steel, mingled blood’! (Also interesting that despite saying earlier in the book that all she ever wanted was for Harrow to eat her (oh Gideon), the metaphors Gideon reaches for here are not about consumption ala what Ianthe’s deal and thus traditional lyctorhood is presented as in TUG, it’s about similar and equal substances joining together to a new whole, more like what we see with Paul. I personally feel like a Paul-style merging for Harrow and Gideon is not in the cards and would not be a satisfying ending — it worked as a bittersweet conclusion specifically for Pal and Cam because those two are utterly nuts in all their sanity lol, but I don’t think the series means to present it as The definitive answer to the central question of individuation vs. connection. There is something so moving to me, though, in the fact that right at the end this is what Gideon wants for her and Harrow. Not for Harrow to eat her, not simply to be of use to her, but to be made together from the same stuff. It’s a longing for connection and union that’s finally at least in imagery free from the imbalance within the ultimately hierarchical roles of necromancer and cavalier that Gideon internalizes through her corruption arc in Gideon the Ninth, understandably so as it’s the only model she’s presented with in their society to understand intimacy and attachment and devotion through. But Gideon says Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last, mutually and equally. And I’ve written about this before, but at what must be almost exactly the same time, the same process is happening in Harrow’s mind through the evolution in the symbolism of her dream bubbles. Help I am emotions now) 

Palamedes is so right, Gideon is a lot smarter than most people -- including Gideon herself -- ever give her credit for.

[yngtort]

—skintight ❄️

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Kinkmas day 3

xfem!reader mdni. 1.6kw. In which Chris really likes that dress you’re wearing

Baby, what’s taking so long?

“We’re gonna be late.” Chris said he knocked on the bedroom door.

He waited impatiently for you to come out, not knowing what was taking you so long. He just wanted to make it to his parents dinner party on time.

Like he gets that you want to impress his family, but it’s not really that big of a deal. His mom and dad already loved you for who you are, and he felt like you didn’t have to go all out every-time you see them.

“Y/n, come on.” he said, finally opening up the door.

his plan was to come in and drag you out the house, half naked if he had too. But when his eyes landed on you, wearing the cuntiest mrs.claus dress he’d ever seen, he changed his mind.

He was losing it, looking at how the dress hugged everything just right, showcasing every curve that he’s touched and kissed.

And those fucking fishnets.

The way your thighs strained against the diamond pattern made his mouth water. it took everything in him not press your face into the mattress and fuck you until bed gives in.

“What do you think?” the question was almost taunting as Chris watches you do a little twirl.

“I think I want to stay home.” He moves closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I don’t want anyone seeing you looking this good.”

You chuckle softly, “sorry, love. But we can’t ditch your parents.”

Chris groans, dramatically throwing his head back like a child. As much as he knew his parents wouldn’t actually care if you didn’t show up, he also knew that you were really excited to see them.

“Fine, fine.” He pouted and you can’t help but place a kiss on his soft lips.

“One more-“ “Chris.”

-

From the moment you stepped in the house, chris just couldn’t keep his hands off of you. with every step, he was trailing behind you, keeping his hand latched to your side.

you tried to brush him off as you talked with his mom, helping her set up the dinner table. And you’re more than happy when mrs.bang declines his offers to come along as well.

“What’s gotten into that boy? It’s like you casted a spell.” mrs.bang jokes as she sets the last plate down.

“It must be all the eggnog.” You reply and the older woman laughs.

“Whatever it is, I hope it gets me some grandkids.”

This was the reason why you adored his parents so much. They’re so lovable and easy to get along with, much like their son.

“What are you two over here gossiping about? The foods gonna get cold!” Mr.bang says with a hearty chuckle, taking his designated spot at the dinner table.

You watched as the rest of the family followed suit, sitting down at the table. you do the same, taking the empty seat beside chris.

“Hey you.” He says with a cheeky grin, hand automatically landing on your thigh.

“Hey.” you reply

Throughout the course of the dinner, his fingers just kept playing with your fishnets. Slipping his them through the holes, feeling the thin layer of stockings that your wore to keep you from getting cold.

His mind went rampant, thinking about ripping them right off you and using them to tie your hands together.

“Right, babe?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts in an instant.

“Huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He said blinking at you like a dear in head lights.

A sigh leaves everyone’s lips at the table.

“your mom suggested that we stay here for the night, since it’s so late.” You explained.

“And you agreed?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Because he wants to go home and hear you scream his name, that’s why.

Chris press his lips into a line, not saying a word. you had already taken up his parents offer and he really didn’t want to make a scene by begging you to leave.

So in the end, he’ll just have to fuck you here.

-

you’re at the sink, watching the dishes on your own after offering to do so.

Of course everyone protested, but you convinced them that it’s the least you could do since they’re letting Chris and you stay there.

you sigh to yourself in relief as you get down to the second to last plate, hands tired and pruned from all the washing.

“Love,” a voice calls from behind and you don’t budge when two bulky arms wrap around your waist.

“I’m almost done, Chris. go to bed.” You say, rinsing off a dish.

“But I wanna help you." He whispered, grip only getting tighter as his head fell into the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses there.

“I don’t need help.”

"Yes, you do." He insisted, his voice husky with desire. “You’re taking so long already.”

“You’re so stubborn. Just go-“ your breath hitches, feeling his innocent kisses switch to sucking and biting.

“C-Christopher stop it.” You slap his arm, “that hurts.”

Chris hummed softly, letting go of your skin with a soft pop. “Can’t help it. You just look so delicious standing here.” He whispered, rocking his against you and you gasp.

“you’re hard..?”

"Been like this since I saw you in this dress." He admitted, his voice rough. "I want you so bad, y/n."

his hands slid up to cup your breasts, pinching and rubbing your nipples through the thin material.

“We can’t do this in your parents' house.” You protested despite how turned on you were getting.

"I don't care." Chris rolled his eyes, "We’re going to make love. Right here, right now."

he pushed you against the sink, his thick, hard cock rubbing against your backside. You don't even have a chance to think before your fishnets and stockings are being ripped open.

“Wait, wait.” "No more waiting." He hissed, sliding his hands over your lace panties and pulling them to the side.

"I want you bare for me." his fingers traced the slick folds before sliding inside you, filling you up with two fingers.

“Y-you’re insane”

“You love it," he grunted, punctuating his words with hard slaps against your ass. “You love being taken like this.” He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching your tight channel.

You absolutely fall apart on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he pumps you restlessly.

“Gonna come on my fingers, hmm?” He whispers into your ear, nipping at it right after. “Go ahead then, beautiful.”

you bite back your moans as your orgasm rushes in, still trying to be mindful of the people within the house.

“That's it." Chris praised as you coat his digits. He pulls them out slowly and your hole puckers for more. it was such a pretty sight, ripped tights, soaked thighs— his dick twitched in anticipation.

Chris hands shook slightly as he pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles. He positioned his tip at your entrance, teasing it just to get a reaction out of you.

“channie, please.” you whine, wiggling your ass back.

Your boyfriend chuckled, “soon, sweetheart.” he said before sinking inside. He hissed at how tightly your wrapped around him like he hasn’t fucked you enough.

“fuck, you’re so big.” You mewled.

"Not big enough." He growled, starting to move within you, his hips thrusting hard. The feeling of his cock stretching you walls drove you wild, every nerve in your body was in flames. “Wanna break you open, make sure you can only fit me.”

The kitchen was filled with heavy breaths and the sound of the water running. You had no idea if his parents could hear you from their room, but at this moment you didn’t care. Just wanted to be used by the man behind you.

Chris' thrusts were hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he took you from behind. every time he hit your g-spot he got closer and closer to cuming.

“I love you so fucking much.” He groaned into your ear, hips stuttering. “wanna cum inside today. Can I? Fill you up with my seed?”

“yes, please” you granted, feeling your peak rise for the second time. “I need it.”

“Take it.” his fingers tore into your skin as he emptied himself inside. His cock throbbed, pulsating with each powerful stroke, leaving you quivering and sated. the white liquid dribbles down whatever’s left of your outfit, eventually getting soaked up in the fabric.

“I’ll have to buy you a new pair, won’t I ?”

“Not if you’re just gonna fuck em up again.”

Tinytag list (open, comment if you wanna be added) : @foxinnie8 @panjakes @sydnerss @sunnyyangie

[pagannatural]

2.03 Bloodlust

-Sam flirts with Dean by telling him (and the Impala) to get a room. Meanwhile he’s looking at Dean like this and the two of them are, literally, getting a room.

-Sam tells the bartender “we’re looking for some people” and the bartender says “sure, hard to be lonely.”

Sam blinks wide, grimaces. Dean looks at him, assessing. Sam looks down and then at Dean while he says “yeah, but, um…” slowly, then he regroups and pulls out a fifty, “that’s not what I meant.” There’s a sexual implication to being lonely and looking for someone at a bar, and the brothers share a very loaded look about it. It’s like this bartender accidentally hit on a truth.

Sam has been lonely for Dean. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to him and spend time with him since their dad died, and Dean has been shutting Sam out emotionally. Sam knows Dean is lonely for him too, even though he won’t say it.

-Sam notices something is off when Dean says he’s been itching for a hunt. He and Dean also make prolonged eye contact after Dean kills a vampire and his face is spattered with blood, and Sam notices Dean is unsettled. They give each other strength just by staring into each others eyes. Sam’s always paying attention to Dean.

-Dean also notices right away that Sam’s off and asks him if he’s okay. Noticing Sam, for him, is less watchful and more like noticing the orbit of his own moon. Gravity’s off, something’s up with Sam.

-Sam went from correcting Dean every time he used Sam’s nickname to “he’s the only one who gets to call me that.” It’s so possessive, like he’s saying I’m his not yours. Dean notices and smiles to himself. Then he says “Sammy remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later” you’re gonna do what to him later?

-Sam’s development from telling Dean he has to let him go to identifying him as the only one who can use his nickname is also the change from Sam seeking distance to Sam acquiescing to being Dean’s.

-Dean tells Gordon a story about killing a monster at 16 while Sammy waited in the car. He didn’t need to mention where Sammy was, he wasn’t a part of the story, but he has a condition* that makes him talk about Sammy to strangers whenever he’s not there (*wretched, soul-crushing love).

-Dean tells Gordon he always thought of his dad as indestructible. Now he’s questioning everything about his dad’s teachings and realizing the version of John in his head is not the only one.

-Sam says he sees through Dean’s fake smile and knows how Dean feels, because he feels the same way. When Sam says that Dean’s behavior is “an insult to [John’s] memory,” Dean kind of nods and raises his eyebrows like “you have no fucking idea” before punching Sam in the face.

-For once, Sam is way off about Dean. He has no idea how Dean feels or what he’s dealing with. The idea of insulting vs honoring John’s memory is complicated for Dean right now. He’s seeing Sam being protective of John for maybe the first time ever and I can just imagine Dean thinking, I raised you, and the man you finally want to respect as your father asked me to kill you.

-Dean looks regretful after he punches Sam, like he’s realizing he took it too far, and Sam looks hurt and taken aback, his eyes searching to and away from Dean and his mouth open. And then Sam tells Dean, “you can hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.”

There are some potential layers to that.

1. They’re arguing about something else here, at the same time—whether or not vampires can choose to act ethically or if they’re inherently evil. Sam implores Dean not to kill them, believing the former. Dean wants killing to be black and white due to Dead Dad’s Last Words reasons. Hitting Sam won’t make the issue any clearer.

2. Sam’s words could be interpreted as “you can hurt me all you want and it won’t change how I feel.” About Dean. Or “whatever you do it won’t change the way things are.” Between them.

3. Sam has been begging Dean to give him something real and emotional, he’s been pushing and pushing him to get a reaction, escalating and becoming more desperate. Now Dean has responded. He’s hurt Sam, but that means he’s touched him out of uncontrollable emotion—or better yet has chosen to inflict his feelings and needs upon Sam’s body. The pain is better than nothing.

It’s hard to be lonely.

-When I first saw this scene I was shook. Dean hit his baby brother! My best guess is that Dean has never punched him like this before, outside of the context of sparring. I might be wrong about that, but the way Sam accepts the punch and turns slowly back to Dean with that disbelieving look felt too significant. I thought Sam was going to feel betrayed or scared, but Sam’s resolve strengthens, he gazes after Dean, and then he follows him.

And then things go right back to normal between them.

-Another thing Sam is missing is that Dean trusts Gordon partially because Dean can identify with Gordon. Gordon said he hunts vampires because vampires killed his sister, and Dean trusts another protective brother.

-Sam tracks the nest and Dean says “you’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Just like that they’re reconciled. Sam’s face is probably still throbbing, it’s been like 3 minutes.

-When Gordon pulls a knife on Sam and admits he killed his sister himself, it’s over for him. Dean is not having any of that.

-Dean punches Gordon in the face in front of Sam, then moves really close to Sam to tell him they can leave now. It’s like he wants Sam to see what he’ll do to anyone who threatens him. Dean is the only one who’s allowed to hurt Sam. He also asks Sam to punch him to get him back, so he clearly feels guilty.

-Dean’s true nature is a huge theme in this episode. He’s trying to understand who he is. Gordon tells him that he was “born to hunt” and “a killer like me.” John wrote the same things about child-Dean in his diary.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam that he has the instinct to kill and would’ve killed the vampires. That’s how he was raised, it’s what John told him to do. I love how Dean is a caregiver and a killer in equal measure, he takes naturally to both violence and nurturing.

Sam reminds him he made the right choice. Dean says “yeah cause you’re a pain in my ass.” He made the decision because of Sam. He’ll kill for Sam but he’ll also decide not to kill for Sam.

Sam says “I guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass then.” Dean thanks him and gazes at him intently. Even here, notice the mention of their connection being painful.

Sam is now agreeing to stick with Dean not because of what John would’ve wanted but because he’s accepting his role as Dean’s guiding light, the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose and good.

Dean’s purpose is not killer or caregiver, but protector. He’s guardian of Sam’s soul.

[animaymay]

SxF 96 Analysis: Some Small Details About the Reveal

Ok, hear me out. I haven't even read the manga for Spy x Family (yet); I've only watched seasons 1 and 2 of the anime, but I've somehow stumbled upon spoilers for the last two chapters (ch. 95 and ch. 96), and other small bits here and there.

And since I am not totally caught up on the story, I hesitate to call this a proper analysis since I'm mostly going off of what I know from the anime at this point. But!

I've been following the chatter and excitement following chapter 96 and I just wanted to throw this quick analysis out there, since I haven't seen some of these details mentioned yet.

So, I'm going to focus on this particular moment, just for what it is. Down the line, after catching up and having all of the character and story details, I might revisit this scene again with additional insight.

Of course, I'm sure we've all seen this panel at this point.

At first glance, this panel is beautifully drawn. You can tell that it was drawn with a lot of care and attention to detail. Typically, such manga panels are used to emphasize the fact that this is an important moment for these characters and/or the story.

There are even bits of confetti(?) flying around them, reminiscent of cherry blossom petals; this is another known technique used in manga to indicate the emotional importance of a scene for the characters featured.

That all feels pretty obvious, I'm sure. But I also wanted to point out other small details given here, which could potentially add another layer to this scene for folks.

I've seen a lot of discussion around how Anya's admission here is a big deal (and it is). But I haven't seen anyone mention the small detail here that she whispers, "I can read people's minds."

I believe that is also why we see that speech bubble transparently -- to visually show us the softness of her voice in that moment (in addition to representing Anya's willingness to be transparent about herself).

However, let's consider the conversation up until this moment. Right before, Damian had jokingly asked her, "How did you know about my dog and the pond, anyway? What, did you read my mind or something?!"

Of course, he was not expecting Anya to say, "Yes". But it's not the fact that Anya said, "Yes" that makes this scene impactful. Anya could have easily said the exact same words, at normal volume, with a smirk on her face, and nobody would think twice about it. Damian would have immediately understood that she was teasing him. And anyone overhearing their conversation would have thought the exact same thing.

But that isn't what happened. Because Anya was serious in that moment. With a genuine expression on her face, she says, "Yes" and then she whispers her secret to him.

And that is what shocks Damian. That is what causes him to freeze.

In that moment, he's able to sense her sincerity and hear the truth in her words.

His gut reaction is to believe her, whether it's because it's Anya or because of how she said it. It isn't until he has a second to think and his brain kicks into gear that he starts to notice the disparity between what he knows to be true and what Anya is telling him. In a split second, he questions this, and then ultimately rejects the notion that she could be telling the truth.

Why?

The obvious answer would be that what she's told him does not line up with what he knows to be true of reality. The rational and logical part of his brain overrides his heart and his gut, ultimately recognizing this disparity and forcing him to reject Anya's claims.

However, they are at a young enough age that it wouldn't be uncommon to easily believe in "impossible" things like magic or superpowers. So, there's also a chance that it goes a bit deeper than this.

Perhaps this sudden display of sincerity and truth from Anya didn't line up with her typical behavior with him. He's not used to seeing that side of her, and as a result, his mind resorts to him thinking that she's lying to him. He thinks that she's just teasing him. Not only because that's what he expects from her, but also because the only other alternative would be for him to admit that they've just shared a true moment of openness and transparency between them.

Anya's whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." As a defense mechanism, Damian's brain decided that it was more likely that Anya was teasing him than it was that she was being vulnerable with him in that way.

Another detail from this moment stems from the fact that this reveal takes place while they are dancing together. Partner dancing is an activity that requires cooperation and teamwork. At first, we see Damian and Anya struggle with getting the hang of it, but eventually they start working together.

That, in itself, seems to be a fairly good representation of their relationship with each other. However, even more so, it follows the flow of their conversation in this moment. It isn't until they start cooperating that they start to open up to one another.

And the pinnacle of the conversation -- the reveal -- happens at the exact moment when Damian dips her. Not only does this make for a picturesque panel, but it is also a symbolic visual of what's happening.

Dipping your dance partner inherently requires a level of trust. The person being dipped has to literally put themselves in their partner's hands. Depending on the dip, they are giving up varying levels of control and safety over to their partner. They have to trust that their partner won't drop them, or bring them too close to the floor; they have to give up their balance and trust that their partner can hold the weight that they're giving up. And their partner takes on the responsibility and burden of that person's trust (as well as trusting that the person that they're dipping does not throw themselves around carelessly).

And here, in this scene, despite the bickering we see Anya and Damian do, we see that there is at least that small amount of trust between them. Anya trusts Damian to dip her, and Damian trusts Anya to be dipped.

But underneath the surface level, the fact that Anya whispers her secret to Damian while he's dipping her reinforces the idea that she trusts him with that knowledge. In that moment, she gave up some of her own control and safety, and placed it in Damian's hands. Only his. Her whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." And he's been given the responsibility and burden of deciding whether to hold it, or drop it.

[izurou]

“i hid a pea under the mattress, in case you were wondering.”

levi peers over his shoulder—hearing the routine sound of your balcony door sliding open, followed by the familiar warmth of your voice, coated in an obvious layer of sleep.

“yeah? you gonna marry me now that you know i’m the real deal?” he asks, bringing the cigarette sitting between his index and middle finger up to his lips.

he inhales, then exhales—watching a small cloud of smoke hang in the air, and he thinks to himself, i hate this. the cigarettes, and their stale scent—an unwanted guest that sits on his shoulders for days afterwards—the worst company he’s ever had the displeasure of hosting.

it’s merely a last resort though—a bad habit he turns to when the good just can’t scratch his itch, or—when it’s fast asleep beside him.

either way, you’re here now.

“depends,” you hum, nudging the door shut with your foot—hands busy cupping a mug that reads blow me i’m hot. “will you wear something pretty for me?”

it was a gag gift, something you had bought on a whim—it’s sole purpose being to put a smile on levi’s face a few times before inevitably collecting dust in the back of your cupboard. though, the inside of the cup is now littered with little dull lines—a year or two of love from a silver spoon.

“define pretty,” he says, because he knows you—knows the serrated edge of your tongue, down to the very last ridge.

“you.” him? bullshit.

he furrows his brows at you, but remains silent—waiting for you to unsheathe your blade and deliver the punchline.

“get it? because you’re…” you trail off—using the mug in your hand to gesture up and down at him, simultaneously passing the beverage over.

there it is.

“mm, trying to get me into something short, are we?” he hums, easily connecting the dots to your little pun. he flicks the butt of his cigarette several stories down, and sips his tea. “should’ve known.”

“well, you’ve got the legs for it,” you say, shooting him an over the top wink, and he almost laughs—a little puff of air through his nose with a smile.

you on the other hand do laugh, leaning into him a little bit as a result, and oh—the fruity scent of your body wash still lingers on your skin, courtesy of the hot shower you took before bed.

and he can’t help but stare—ridiculous, he knows, even more so considering the one you’re laughing at is him, but—you’re gorgeous. the little scrunch of your nose, and the roundness of your cheeks—the way you look to him for approval, as if to say please laugh too.

you’re a real pain in his ass sometimes, and yet you’re still the best company he’s ever had—it’s awfully comforting to know that at least one of the things he’s addicted to, is good for him. so, he stares at you and he thinks to himself, i love you.

“do you wanna get married?”

he blurts it out, words uttered with the utmost casualty—like he’s simply asking what you want for breakfast in the morning.

“what?” your laughter ceases, and you tilt your head at him.

“to me,” he says, feeling the need to clarify that he didn’t mean a generalized do you want to get married to someone, someday—but a do you want to get married to him, soon.

“levi, are you proposing to me?” you ask, disbelief sitting in the back of your throat as you brush a stray piece of his hair back into place. “because if you are, i think you’re doing it wrong.”

“oh? who said there’s a right way?” he questions, wrapping a hand around your wrist, holding you ever so gently.

“everyone, i think,” you mumble—the intensity of his gaze rooting you to the ground.

levi’s never expressed any interest in the topic of marriage. the status sure as hell wouldn’t change anything—he wouldn’t look at you different, nor would he treat you as such, and he’d still love you the same, always has and always will.

but, you deserve this.

“alright,” he mutters, and just like that he’s sliding the door back open—ushering you back inside.

he’s had the ring for a while—a pretty silver band that splits off into two, intertwining with each other before meeting beneath a single diamond. the place was going out of business, so it was relatively cheap, and in need of a new home.

he walks you to your bedroom, motioning for you to sit on the edge of the mattress as he heads for his nightstand.

a part of him wishes he would’ve brought the ring out onto the balcony with him—maybe someone passing by could’ve given this moment a sliver of the attention it deserves, for your sake.

it doesn’t matter though, because you fiddle with your fingers as you watch him get onto one knee, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach come to life as he opens the little black box—because the only person you need attention from, is him.

“marry me?”

[lovingmattysposts]

You don’t know me 27

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: smut, female receiving, emotional, sad

I was just gonna talk to him. I was just going to see how he's feeling. I'm not going to pressure him into a decision. I'm just gonna ask how he's feeling about every-

I paused when I turned and saw Chris walking towards my direction. He saw me and froze too.

We were both walking to each other's house's. I felt nerves come up my throat as my clicked my feet together and saw him push off his feet and complete the distance between us.

"Hey" His voice sang. "Hey" I breathed back.

"You talked to your dad" He stated looking down at me. I nodded and my lips fell into a straight line. "Nate, he told me" He motioned behind him towards his house. I sighed.

"How's he...?" I trailed off. Chris sighed and closed his eyes. "As happy as you'd imagine" He answered my non-finished question. I nodded breathing in. I could deal with my brother---weird feeling-----later.

Silence came between us.

"You're angry with me"

"I'm not angry" He said staring down at me. I stared up at him. "You saved my grandpa's house, he's had that house for like 30 years. How could I be angry?" He breathed looking down at me. I swallowed.

"You told me you didn't want me to interfere and I did. I'm sorry, it was selfish" I breathed. He let out a breath. "Your persistence is annoying, but I’ll never be angry with you Y/n." He breathed before a smile came across his face. I smiled softly.

"It's not what you wanted and I did it anyway, and I'm sorry" I breathed. He pursed his lips and nodded. "You were just trying to help, I understand" He breathed. I blinked at him.

I swallowed the nerves in my throat and he looked down at me. He licked his lips.

"I called my dad today" He said. I raised my eyebrows. "Oh? How'd that go?" I asked. He took in a breath. "He wanted me to come home" He said. I felt my heart raise in my throat, before I forced a nod.

"But he said it was my decision" He explained. I felt like my legs were gonna give out under me. "Okay" I couldn’t hide the shake in my voice.

"Are you gonna go back to Boston?" I asked softly. He parted his lips and looked down at me. The way that he was looking at me made me feel like whatever he was going to say next, I wasn’t going to like.

I swallowed as I felt tears come to my eyes uncontrollably. I hated how I couldn't hide my emotions.

"Y/n" He sighed. I shook my head trying to ignore the tears but my body shook. "No it's-" A unwelcomed sob came out of me before I felt his arms come around me. "Y/n" he breathed again. I pressed my face into his chest as I cried.

"I'm going for the weekend. I'm gonna see how it goes, If I even wanna move back. I haven't decided yet" He breathed making my cries slow down a bit. I looked up at him.

"I'm sorry" I whispered. He shook his head and wrapped his arms tighter around me. "Don't be sorry. Why are you sorry?" He whispered kissing the top of my head. I sighed as I basically fell against him.

"I don't want you to sway your decision. I didn't mean to cry" I whispered, feeling like a baby the way I couldn't hold back my tears. He leaned down before picking me slightly and pressing his lips against mine.

"You already sway my decison by being alive" He mumbled against my lips, making me smile. He set me back down. "I don't wanna think about it right now" He breathed his hands running down my shoulders.

The thought of Chris being somewhere that wasn't with me made me sick to my stomach. How could I not think about it? His immediate family was there, he spent the first 16 years of his life there. I couldn't blame him if he thought he's be happier there.

"Okay?" He smiled softly down at me. I nodded reaching up and wiping my eyes. "Okay" He smiled leaning down and wiping the tears that I didn't wipe myself.

"Now come on, I've got something planned" He smiled leaning down and wrapping his hand around mine. "Wh-What is it? I'm not dressed for a date--" I stuttered as he dragged me alone. He glanced over at me.

"You're wearing a skirt and a sweater, yes you are" He chuckled. I looked down at my outfit. "This is my day skirt, not my date skirt" I said quickly and he chuckled. "Oh yeah? What does this date skirt entail exactly?" He glanced down at me.

I smiled before pursing my lips.

"Oh you know just like....short, tight--"

"We're making a pit stop at your house" He said before I could finish. I chuckled as he pulled me closer to him.

-

"Chris" I breathed as we finally made it to the end of the trail. There were blankets and candles spread out at the edge of the clearing. I paused taking it all in. He smiled down at me.

"It's beautiful" I breathed.

"I know" He said, but he wasn't looking at the clearing. I blinked up at him smiling. I shook my head as a blush moved over my cheeks. I walked over to the blanket before running my hand over the basket that laid next to it, I pulled it open before revealing some flowers and some food.

"Hmm, did you make this food Christopher?" I smiled up at him. He chuckled before walking over and sitting down next to me. "I did, if it happens to taste it exactly like Taste of China…we used the same recipe" He said jokingly as I closed the basket.

I rolled my eyes before standing back up and walking over to the edge, seeing water over the drop off where the woods ended.

I felt Chris's arms around around me making me jump. "Oh my god, did you think I was gonna push you?" Chris chuckled, pulling me back against him and farther away from the edge of the rocks. I chuckled as his lips came in contact with the inside of my neck.

"Nothing you haven't done before" I chuckled placing my hand on my back of his head as his lips moved against my skin. "It's not my fault you're 18 and can't swim" He chuckled against my skin.

I turned around facing him. "So you're saying I can push you over this 50-foot drop since you can swim?" I chuckled. He shrugged. "It's not that far of a drop" He smiled. I pulled his waist and his feet planted.

"Oh my god I-I was kidding" He said backing away from me his eyes widening. I chuckled as I pushed his chest back and we walked away from the edge. He chuckled as he sat back down against the blanket.

"Is this why you took me out here? So you could taunt me about the fact that I can't swim?" I asked raising my eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. "No" He stated. I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my eyebrows.

“Come over here, I wanna show you why I took you here” He said opening his arms. I rolled my eyes before I walked over to him and sat next to to him.

He laid against the blanket and opened his arms. I smiled before I laid against his chest and his arms closed around me. I blinked up towards the sky, before seeing the stars laid out before me.

I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Wow” I breathed looking across the perfect night sky. “I know” He breathed looking down at me. I smiled up at him before pressing my lips to his.

He smiled against me.

“It’s not your secret spot, but it’ll do” I smiled pressing my chin to his chest. He rolled his eyes. “You’re so hard to please” He breathed. I smiled. “You already knew that” I said rolling back over so that I was against his chest.

“I’m learning the constellations” He breathed under me. I chuckled. “Are you?” I smiled looking up. He hummed under me.

His arm raised. “That’s Jupiter” he pointed towards the sky. I moved his arm over a few inches. “That’s Jupiter. And that’s a planet not a constellation” I chuckled.

“I know I was just testing you” He breathed under me making me chuckle. His hand raised again. “That’s Centaurus” He said. I turned around and looked at me. He smiled.

“What? How did you know that?” I asked quickly. He smiled. “I told you I was learning” He smiled. I felt a smile come so hard over my face, it hurt. I turned back looking at the stars.

“You interrupted me. I wasn’t finished” He said. I raised my eyebrows. “My apologies. Please, continue” I held back a chuckle. He let out a breath. He grabbed my hand and interlaced it with his before lifting our arms up together. I felt electricity shoot through my arm, as he moved them as one.

“That one is Canes Venatici” He traced the constellation with our fingers. I felt my heart pound with happiness as he spoke. He moved over slightly.

“That’s Monoceros” He explained, again tracing it with our hands in the sky again. I smiled. He moved our hands up.

“Lepus”

He traced our hands.

“That one is Y/n” He pointed at a certain star. I furrowed my eyebrows. “What?” I chuckled. He circled our hands around the singular star. “That star is Y/n” He stated again as if I hadn’t heard him the first time. I pulled my hand from his and looked back at him.

“No, I heard what you said. What are you talking about?” I chuckled. He smiled before reaching over me and into the basket before pulling out a piece of paper. I just watched him as he unfolded the paper.

“If you weren’t so focused on the food, Y/n.” He chuckled. “You would have seen this” He handed me the paper. I just looked at him as I grasped it.

“Read it” he motioned to the paper. I closed my open my mouth as I looked down at the paper.

Star Registration Certification

Star Name: The light of my Life, Y/n Doe

Coordinates: 42.2808° N, 83.7430° W

Certifed

I couldn’t help the wind being caught in my throat. “Chris” I breathed holding onto the paper. I looked over at him.

“You bought me a star?” I breathed blinking at him.

He smiled.

“I thought I’d get you something nicer than the plastic ones on your ceiling” He chuckled. I squealed before throwing the paper and wrapping my arms around him pulling him towards me. He chuckled from the sudden embrace. I pulled back kissing him lips passionately.

I pulled back and he looked in a daze.

“If I get that everytime I buy you a star, expect one every week” He breathed looking down at my with hooded eyes. I smiled and pressed my lips softly to his. He kissed me back.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me” I whispered against his lips. He smiled and pulled back. “I’m sure that’s not true” He whispered. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a romantic at heart Christopher Sturniolo” I smiled. He shrugged. “Yeah maybe I am.” I smiled down at me. “Or maybe you just make me that way” He whispered quietly.

He pulled me back down to his chest. I could lay here for ours. Our food seems forgotten in the basket as we just laid there looking up at the stars.

I sighed as his hands came to my sides.

He left tomorrow for Boston, but he’d be back on Monday. Hopefully. What if he decided to stay? He wouldn’t just stay without saying goodbye to me first right? Or at least tell me to my face he decided to stay. My chest tightened.

“Relax” His voice rang through my body. I took in a breath. “I’m relaxed” I lied. “You’re not, your body tenses when you think” He breathed, I felt his breath against my neck. I closed my eyes.

“I’m relaxed” I breathed again. His thumbs rubbed circles into my hips. I felt them almost burn through the fabric of my skirt. His touch was like fire.

“Baby” He tilted his head into my neck. “Mhm hm?” I hummed focused on his thumbs, trying to ignore the feeling it gave me.

“Do you need help relaxing?”

The pulse grew.

I swallowed.

I tilted my head back slightly so he had more access to my neck. That was my answer before his lips softly pressed against the spot below my ear. I took a breath in from the feeling, Boston now being the last thing on my mind.

He bit down. I took a breath in as my eyes closed. Fuck. His hand moved down to the bottom on my skirt slightly. I could audibly hear myself breathing.

From how long this whole ‘I have a new father and brother thing’ and ‘Chris might be moving back to East coast thing’ has been going on, I hadn’t realized how long it’d been since he touched me.

I realized quickly from how fast the pulse in between my legs quickened. His finger tips moved right under the bottom on my skirt, against my mid thighs. I sighed before spreading my legs farther apart slightly.

I felt him chuckle against my neck. I felt my face go red. “You’re so cute” He whispered. I closed my eyes. “I don’t wanna be cute, I was to be desirable” I whispered. He lifted his head from my neck and we met eyes.

“You think you can’t be cute and desirable?” He whispered. I blinked at him. “I don’t know, do you want lust after bunny rabbits?” I chuckled. His eyes widened. “Way to make it weird” He smiled and pressed his lips to mine briefly before parting.

“What do you wanna be?” He whispered his fingers trailing higher. I swallowed. “I don’t wanna be cute” I breathed. Who wants to be cute when their boyfriend’s hand is trailing up their skirt? No one.

“So what do you wanna be?” He repeated his question, pressing his nose to mine. “I wanna be sexy. That kind of desirable” I whispered, surprised the words even left my mouth. I’d doubt I’d even would have found the courage if it didn’t feel like Chris and I were the only two people in the world right now.

“Oh princess, you already are” He mumbled pressing his lips against mine. I smiled as he kissed me. He kissed me for a brief second before he turned back to our original position.

“What-What are you doing?” I questioned as he was now out of my view and his lips weren’t on mine. I shifted to where I wasn’t laying against his chest and his hands moved from my legs to my waist, before pulling me back.

“I want you to watch the stars”

I was dripping.

I didn’t respond, afraid my voice would have broke, or I would have uttered an incomplete sentence. I took in a breath as his hands trailed back down my legs. His fingers played with the bottom hem of my skirt.

“Is this okay?” He whispered. I nodded as I stared up at the night sky. “Words” His voice sang. “Yes” I breathed quickly. I felt his breath rise and fall under me as he pushed my skirt up to bunch up over my hips.

Aries

Cassiopeia

Hydrus

My eyes cascaded over the stars. My eyes fluttered as he pressed two of his fingers over my underwear, moving them back and forth softly.

I was no longer interested in the stars.

I shifted beneath him and swallowed as I spread my legs farther apart. His other hand that wasn’t feeling me over my underwear came over my shoulder, sending chills down my spine. I took in a breath.

One touch, and I was shivering.

I would have been embarrassed if I could think or hear anything other than the pulsing inside me. He pressed his lips to the top of my head.

“You’re so pretty, so perfect for me” He breathed as his fingers trailed over my collarbone bones. I swallowed as I pushed against his fingers. “Chris” I breathed. He let an out a breath.

“Yes, Princess” He hummed. I closed my eyes. “Please” I breathed. “Please what?” His hands trailed to the top of my underwear feeling the lace on the top of it.

“I miss your touch” I breathed and that was enough for him before his fingers hooked over my underwear and dragged them down. My breath halted as I felt the cold air against my most sensitive area.

I felt his cold fingers press against me, I blinked up at the sky and whined as his fingers moved across me. “I haven’t even touched you yet, baby you’re making a mess” He almost whispered. I closed my eyes.

It would be humiliating if I could think.

He fingers moved soft circles around me. I pressed against his back. He moved faster. I gripped his arm with one of my hands. It was crazy how fast he could get me going. I whined and closed my eyes.

“You’re not watching the stars” He breathed. My eyes opened as I was breathing like I was sprinting. He was moving fast, but not fast enough. He was pressing down, but not hard enough.

I pressed against his fingers desperately. He stopped before moving down and plunged into me completely with his fingers. I moaned before my legs bent upward.

“Feels…”

“Hm?”

“…good”

“Chris” I whined my eyes closing as I squirmed around. He moved at a slow, calm pace. I pushed against him again. “Faster, please” I breathed. I could tell he was holding back. I was so wet I could barely feel his fingers inside me.

He sped up his movements and curled his finger. My head tilted back and I moaned.

“Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this”

“You’re—“ I bit my lip to hide a moan.

“You’re holding back” He breathed.

“So are you” I whined, dipping my head back against his shoulder from the pressure.

I tilted my head into his chest and whined as he sped up his movements faster. He knew the spot that drove me crazy, and he was hitting it every other movement. On purpose.

“Please, please. I need—“ I cried. He drove his fingers directly into the spot over and over. “Oh my- Chris” I nearly screamed as my back arched against him.

“Tell me im the only one who can make you feel like this” he repeated. I gripped his shirt. “You’re-you’re the only—fuck” I was close, my vision was hazy. I clenched against his fingers.

“I’m the only what?” He slowed. “The only one! The only person-“ as soon as the words left my mouth he stopped holding back. My body pulsed against him. My stomach curled as he hit his fingers inside me.

“Tell me you love me”

“Chris I love-“

He hit the spot, again.

Again.

Again.

Harder.

Harder.

“Fuck Chris—“ My body heaved before I released all over his hand. I tried to control my breathing before his fingers left me entirely and he pulled my skirt back down over my hips.

I rolled over until my face went pressed against his chest. “I love you Chris you know that” I whispered after a second and he let go out a breath. I lifted my head to connect our eyes. He looked from me to the sky.

"Hey" I pressed my hands against his face and he looked down at me. "You know that" I whispered. He stared at me for a second before he nodded. I leaned and pecked his lips softly.

"Talk to me, please" I whispered. He closed his eyes. "I'm scared" He whispered. I blinked up at him. Silence came between us. "Me too" I replied honestly.

What he was scared of? I had no idea.

What I was scared of? Him falling back in love with Boston. Him forgetting about everything in Michigan, Including me.

"The thing about fear is that there's only one thing that can overpower it" I whispered. He just looked at me, uncertainty all over his face. I laid my head against his shoulder.

"Love" I whispered. He didn't say anything, but he sighed and wrapped his arms around my back. "And I think out of everyone's love. Mine for you can do anything" I whispered. He leaned his head against mine and let out a breath.

"I know you have a flight early, but can you stay at my house? I know it's probably asking a lot but-"

"Of course I can" He said back before I could finished. I smiled against him. "I just need you there. Just for the last night" I whispered. He nodded as we just laid there.

[magiccath]

Secrets big and small

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: in which you are forced to admit your feelings for the Doctor, even if you think he will leave you for it

A/N: For the absolute love of my life and favorite beta, thanks for dealing with me talking about this more than I wrote it

The Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. After a few good inhales, he popped back inside the ship, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

You waited by the ship's console, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The Doctor had promised you a beach vacation, and judging by his face, this wasn’t a beach. Sometimes you wondered how much control the Doctor actually had over the ship, considering it only landed in the places he intended about 25% of the time. 

“We’re not at a beach are we?” 

The Doctor ignored your question and moved over to the console, grabbing one of the many oddly shaped screens attached to the control panel. He pulled his glasses out of his suit pocket, perching the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. 

“Interesting…” He hummed, more to himself than you. 

“Where did we end up this time?” You asked, opening the door to peek outside. You knew better than to walk off without the Doctor, but a little look had never hurt you. 

The minute you opened the door you were met with the bustling noise of a street. All kinds of aliens walked by you, each one unique in their own way. 

“It would appear we landed on the planet Phact, but I’m not sure why.” 

You continued to stare out of the TARDIS wide-eyed, taking in all of the strange creatures before you. Your eyes followed an individual who walked by, a series of tentacles hanging out of his mouth.

“Is it safe?” you asked as an afterthought.

“As far as I know,” the Doctor shrugged, putting his glasses back in his pocket. He moved away from the console to stand at your side by the door. 

You looked over at him, debating if you should tell him that wasn’t exactly a reassuring thought. 

“Since we’re here…” he smiled cheekily, inclining his head toward the door. You laughed and rolled your eyes. The Doctor never could resist a good adventure. 

You followed him out the door, waiting momentarily as he locked the TARDIS up. 

“Remember that time you forgot to tell me it was rude to wear less than three layers on Titan 4?” you ask, watching him slip the key back into his endless coat pockets.

The Doctor shrugs, pushing his hands into his pockets and leaning toward you. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Is there anything I should know about this planet?” you raise your eyebrows questioningly.

The Doctor’s brow wrinkled as he thought about it, trying to remember his limited knowledge about Phact.

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged again, smiling softly. 

You scrunched your nose slightly, not sure you believed him. Still, you followed him.

The Doctor talked excitedly as the two of you walked through the city streets. Most of the time, you only understood half of the words he was saying. Frankly, you just enjoyed listening to him talk.

As you walked your eyes took in everything around you. It didn’t matter how long you traveled with the Doctor, it always seemed like there was more for you to learn and discover. 

The Doctor continued talking, waving his hands about in the air. Abruptly, he stopped to look at a nearby poster. You followed him, trying to peek over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. The Doctor shifted to the side so you could read the sign too, the TARDIS translation circuit making the writing legible to you.

“The 998th Olympic games?” you read aloud, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“That would explain all of the species here!” he smiled brightly, looking at the diverse crowd around you. 

You nodded in agreement, following his gaze. There really did appear to be all kinds of species from around the galaxy. 

“Want to go?” He whispered to you, raising his eyebrows mischievously. 

“We don’t have tickets. Or money.” 

The Doctor wiggled his eyebrows again, pulling the psychic paper out of his pocket. He shook it at you with a mischievous grin.

A smile took over your own face as you nodded, “alright then,” you said excitedly. You’d never been to the Olympics, let alone the space Olympics. 

The Doctor guided you through the crowd towards the giant area, holding your hand tightly so as not to lose you. You tried not to focus too much on the feeling of his hand wrapped around yours. He just didn’t want you to wander off, there wasn’t much else to it, right?

“Y’know I carried the Olympic torch once,” he smirked back at you, still guiding you through the crowds. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“What?” the Doctor asked, not catching your comment over the chatter of the crowd. You smiled softly and shook your head, deciding it was best not to repeat yourself.

The Doctor led you to the ticket line, waiting patiently for the guards to check your tickets and let you in. He bounced slightly on his feet, unable to stand still for too long.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” you asked anxiously, eyeing the copious amounts of security surrounding the arena.

“Of course!” the Doctor smiled brightly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. The movement made both of you realize he was still holding your hand, even if he didn’t need to. With a small, hardly discernible blush, the Doctor slid his hand from yours. 

The line moved forward and the guard asked for your tickets. The Doctor winked at you before handing the psychic paper over with a confident smile. 

“Are you serious, mate?” The guard laughed dryly, looking between you and the Doctor. 

“Most of the time,” the Doctor’s confident smile didn’t waver. 

The guard sighed and leaned into his walkie-talkie, chattering softly to someone on the other end. You looked up at the Doctor with wide eyes, urging him to explain.

“Probably getting us a special escort or something,” he shrugged, turning the paper around to see what your fake tickets said. When his eyes landed on the paper his face instantly turned ghostly white.

“Doctor…” you growled softly. 

“W-we should probably run now,” he whispered back. Before you could react, the security guard pulled the two of you firmly to the side. 

“Doctor, what is going on?” You whispered as the guard led the two of you to a police car. At least, you assumed it was a police car. Unless flashing red and blue lights meant something else on other planets, it was definitely a police car. 

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor winced softly as the security guard guided the two of you to an officer. The cop looked you up and down before guiding you inside of the car.

“I would feel a lot better if you told me why.” 

You weren’t necessarily mad about the police car, it wasn’t the first time you had gotten arrested on the Doctor’s behalf. Usually, he was able to get you out of it. You were more frustrated that he wasn’t telling you what was happening. 

“Remember Titan 4?” he winced. 

“Doctor!” you snapped angrily, “I specifically asked you if I needed to know anything about this planet!” 

“Right, I know I’m sorry, I forgot,” he whispered, shaking his head softly. 

“How bad is it?” you sighed, looking down at your lap. 

“They’re not gonna kill us,” he shrugged with a sad smile. 

“What did we even do?”

“You can’t lie on Phact.” 

“Like, physically?” 

The Doctor grimaced, thinking the question through, “not exactly,” he offered. You waited for him to further explain. 

“They can tell telepathically if you lie and that ability extends to psychic paper.” 

“I gathered as such,” you sighed, “but that still doesn't explain why we’re in a cop car” 

“It’s illegal to lie.” 

“Seriously?” you gaped, “any kind of lie?” 

The Doctor nodded.

“Even if you tell your friend she looks fine when she really looks a mess 'cause you want to spare her feelings?”

The Doctor frowned but nodded again, more tentatively this time.

“That’s a horrible idea.” 

“Don’t tell them that.”

You sighed softly in agreement.

“I really am sorry,” he looked at you with those big, sad brown eyes of his. It was very, very hard to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that. It was your weakness.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head. “What are they going to do?” 

Before the Doctor could answer, the car stopped and a cop came around to help you out of the car. The officer led you inside a very space-looking police station to a very Earth-looking interrogation room. You sat next to the Doctor in metal fold-out chairs, a table separating you and the officer. At least they didn’t cuff you.

“Names,” the officer groaned, clicking his pen and hovering it over a yellow legal pad. He had the kind of face and demeanor that told you he would rather be anywhere else.

“The Doctor.” 

“Really funny, what’s your actual name?” the officer frowned. 

“That’s my name,” the Doctor pouted, offended that someone would think it wasn’t. You smiled softly to yourself, finding the Doctor’s disappointed frown adorable.

“Fine,” the officer groaned, scribbling it down on his paper. “Age?”

“904,” he said without blinking. You hid your widening smile with your hand. You were starting to feel a little bad for the police officer. 

“You’re how old?”

“904.”

“Species?”

“Gallifreyan.” 

“Never heard of them,” the officer shook his head, writing it down on his paper. “You lot must age differently,” he grumbled, more towards his paper than the two of you.

“Right, and you?” the officer asked, tilting his head in your direction. 

The Doctor nodded softly at you, urging you to comply with the officer’s wishes. You sighed and answered the same questions. The officer just seemed relieved to write down something less ridiculous. 

“Alright,” he slid the paper pad away from him before leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed “You have been charged with a first-class felony of deception. You will not be fined or executed. To be released from custody you must provide your biggest secret”

“That’s it?” you asked, it seemed a little too simple. The officer nodded, clearly fed up with you and the Doctor.

“Look, folks, let’s just make this easier for all of us and get on with it?”

The Doctor nodded his agreement, casting a nervous look over at you. You nodded back, trying to think of something you could say. You knew easily what your biggest secret was, but you knew you couldn’t say it out loud. Especially not in front of the Doctor. 

“I’m terrified of hospitals,” the Doctor said with a small frown. 

“That’s ironic,” you chuckled, assuming he was making a joke. The officer stared at him for a few minutes, probably thinking the same thing. 

“Checks out,” the officer sighed, writing “scared of hospitals” next to his other notes on the Doctor. “Weird secret, mate,” he added before turning his attention to you.

You fiddled anxiously before leaning back in your seat, your eyes trained on your hands. 

“Does he have to be here for it?” you asked softly. The Doctor looked at you confused, wondering what was so bad you didn’t want him to know. 

“I just admitted I'm terrified of hospitals as a doctor, it can't get worse than that,” he laughed.

“Does he?” you asked the officer, ignoring the Doctor. The cop looked between the two of you; the Doctor staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at you, and you trying to act like he wasn’t there.

“Yes,” the officer challenged, leaning back in his seat again. You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if he only said that to see how things would play out. 

“So, what’s your secret?” he smirked, confirming your suspicions. “I’ll know if you’re lying” 

You sighed, trying to steady your racing heart. You wanted to scream, maybe even cry. You wanted to blame the Doctor, even if it wasn’t really his fault. Even more, you wanted to wipe that stupid, smug smile off of the officer’s face.

You took one last look at the Doctor, smiling sadly at him. He looked back at you with confusion, unsure why you were looking at him as if it was the last time you’d ever see him. To you, it felt like it would be. He could never look at you the same, not after this.

“I’m in love with this idiot,” you sighed, cocking your head towards the Doctor. The silence that followed was deafening. While the Doctor’s brain struggled to process your words the officer sized you up, searching for any falsities in your statement. 

“What a strange pair,” the officer shook his head, leaning forward to write on his pad again. “In love with the other one”

You looked at those words scribbled on the thin, crappy paper and felt your heart clench. It was out there now, the Doctor knew. At the moment, you couldn’t think of anything worse. You would rather spend your entire life in prison than have had to admit that.

“You’re free to go,” the officer waved you off, more preoccupied with writing more things on his paper pad. It seemed so simple, yet one little secret had turned your world upside down.

You nodded solemnly and stood up, heading out the door. The Doctor wasn’t far behind you. 

The walk back to the TARDIS was really quiet, a stark contrast from a few short hours ago. You tried not to sulk too much as you walked through the busy streets back to the ship.

The Doctor unlocked the doors without a word, holding them open for you. You walked inside the ship for what you assumed was the last time. The Doctor followed, heading over to the console to mess with a few buttons. 

“I’ll pack my things,” you whispered, more to the floor than the Doctor. You moved towards the hallway that led to your room but the Doctor cut you off. 

“What?” 

“I’ll pack up,” your eyes remained trained on the floor, not wanting to look into his. You knew the Doctor wasn’t going to keep you around after this. It was glaringly clear that he didn’t have those feelings for you, that he couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” he frowned, moving away from the console. 

“You’re kicking me out.” 

“I think I would know if I was.” He moved so he was standing in front of you, tilting his head down in an attempt to catch your eye. 

“It’s ok,” you shook your head, your eyes trained on your shoes, “I know you don’t want me around anymore.” 

“Is this about the whole secret thing?” the Doctor asked gently.

“I know you don’t feel the same, I never expected you to,” you shook your head, averting your gaze again. “I’d understand if you just wanted to drop me back at home.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

You shook your head, clearing your throat, “It’s not exactly about what I want is it?” 

The Doctor remained silent, his mind working for the right thing to say. He didn’t fully comprehend what was happening. 

“You’re under the assumption that I’m going to drop you because you love me?” He said softly, still trying to catch your eye. 

“Is that not what’s happening right now?” You frowned, confused. 

The Doctor laughed softly, moving away from you with one long stride. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the spiky strands. You continued to frown at him, confused by his demeanor. 

“I can establish a psychic block,” he explained, waving his hands about as he talked. You frowned, confused as to why he was talking about this now. “I told the officer a secret, but I didn’t tell him my greatest secret.”

He had the kind of look on his face he got when he was trying, and failing, to figure something out. It was a look you knew well at this point, you had just never been the cause of it. 

“There’s so much of you in my head,” he groaned, waving his hands by the sides of his face, “which is saying a lot 'cause I have more in my head than you will ever experience in your entire life.” 

You gaped at him, unsure what you were supposed to say in this scenario. Was this his secret?

“You take up so much space,” he emphasized exasperatedly, repeatedly running his hands through his hair. “Even when you’re not here I’m constantly thinking about you!” He leaned his hands against the console, hanging his head as he continued rambling.

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. No, three extra heads. And a tail. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.

The Doctor moved back over to you, reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He cupped your cheeks gently and bent his head forward so your foreheads connected. 

“You take up so much space,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your face. “And the fact that you can’t see that kills me, it really kills me.”

“Doctor-” you whispered in shock. In your mind, there was only ever one way that the Doctor could react to your feelings, and this certainly wasn’t it. “Are you saying what I think you are?” 

The Doctor laughed sharply, shaking his head against yours, “You’re clueless, y’know that?”

“You’re not much better,” you frowned back. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” Your heart thudded against your chest, threatening to beat right out of your body. The mere implication that the Doctor could have even a shred of feelings for you was sending your senses into overdrive.

“Yes, I am,” he whispered. That was all you needed. You knew it was hard for him to say things like this. He wasn’t exactly the “I love you” type. The fact that he had said this much already was a wonder. 

You didn’t really think about it, you just kissed him. His lips fit against yours perfectly and the kiss was over much sooner than either of you had wanted.

Your face was still cradled in his hands as the Doctor bent down to press another, quicker kiss against your lips, returning the act of affection. You smiled happily as he pulled back, looking up at him with pure adoration.

“Are you really afraid of hospitals though?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Terrified,” he shook his head.

[meowzfordayz]

skin

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~400

CW: none

Emergency Request Fulfilled:i was wondering if u could write ab giyuu with a reader whos insecure ab acne/bad skin?

“Giyuu, how is your skin always so perfect?”

Giyuu’s ribcage expands with a strange tightness as you stare at him in the bathroom mirror, the nonchalant act of smearing shaving cream on his face suddenly weighing on his shoulders. He isn’t that oblivious. He knows, without even meeting your gaze, what you’re really telling him.

“I drink a lot of water?” he murmurs, halfhearted puff of air condensating in front of him, “I don’t know.”

He sees the lack of satisfaction in your twitching smile, heart clenching at the depth of your discomfort. Fingers hovering over his razor, he lets out a quiet sigh, instead turning to grasp your hands.

“Can you be honest with me?”

His question comes gently. Carefully. With the tender concern that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

You shrug, “Sure,” cracking a wry grin as you tack on, “But just so you know, it’s kinda hard to take you seriously when you’re covered in foam.”

He doesn’t mean to offend, but he decidedly ignores your playful remark, eyes soft as they strip you to your bones.

“I love you. I love you when you have a bajillion pimples. I love you when you have one. I love you on days when you use ten different cleansers and creams. I love you on days when you use only one or two. It hurts me when you touch your skin with such frustration and distaste, because I love you. But I know I’m lucky. My skin is clear. I don’t deal with any pain or discomfort because of it. And admittedly, I don’t quite understand you, though I most definitely love you.”

“Giyuu,” your voice cracks, thin layer of humorous pity peeled back by his unrelenting honesty, “All I said was-”

“I know,” he interrupts you, the fragility of your tone making his stomach roil, “But this isn’t about me. This is about you. I love you.”

“Love won’t fix my skin,” you mutter, throat thick with emotion as he slowly wraps his arms around you.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You let him hug you, your cheek turning to press into his chest, your own grip clutched to the hem of his shirt.

“For what it’s worth,” he rasps, “I think you’re beautiful.”

He knows thought isn’t enough. Knows your insecurity isn’t a feeling he can dispel with something as intangible as love. But he knows he wouldn’t change you for the world, nor would he ever try.

[sinkovia]

Black Market: III

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Mention of sexual assault, mention of Simon Riley's canon backstory, light angst.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

A few weeks passed and with thousands of dollars now sitting in your bank account, you began to reassess the deal you had made with Simon, realizing that it wasn't as terrible as you had initially thought. Slowly, you found yourself lowering your defenses and growing more at ease in his presence and the space around you.

Simon respected your wish to not accompany him on contracts, so you found yourself reluctantly harvesting organs from someone he had killed just minutes ago. It was a grim task, but you saw it as the least you could do for him being so cooperative with your demands.

As you worked, Simon leaned against the counter, watching you tear apart the insides of the man and carefully placing his organs into iced containers. "Thought you wanted to save lives? Here you are tearing into a man I only killed minutes ago," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"You offered me twenty thousand knowing I'm in desperate need of money. You're a sick man, Simon," you retorted, continuing your work without missing a beat. Simon simply smiled, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

He looked at the dead man split in half on the table and then to you, marveling at your focused precision and fast hands as you expertly took him apart.

"You think you could've brought him back?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. You smiled as you took out the last part, carefully placing his heart in the ice chest and sealing the container shut. Then, you turned to Simon, your smile lingering.

"I know I could have," you replied confidently. "But he would have been brain dead."

With that, you took off your gloves and sighed before heading up the steps to your bedroom for a much-needed shower. Simon remained in the basement, his mind swirling with questions about you. He had never cared for anyone before; his life had revolved around accepting contracts and killing people for money. 

No socializing, no interests, no curiosity for other people. But you were different. There was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him want to peel back the layers and uncover your past.

Simon formed a plan in his head to extract any sliver of information from you that would allow him to delve into your history. He needed to know what made you such a skilled doctor at such a young age, considering that medical school takes years of study and experience to achieve the level of proficiency you display. 

You were lying in bed, engrossed in the book that Simon had so graciously bought for you when the savory aroma of garlic and herbs wafted into the room.

Your stomach grumbled in response, prompting you to abandon your reading and make your way to the kitchen. Simon looked up as he set two plates down on the dining table.

"Made you dinner to make up for earlier,"

You raised a skeptical eyebrow as you surveyed the meal before you, but your doubts vanished the moment you took the first bite. "Holy shit, I didn't think you knew how to cook like this," genuine surprise evident in your tone.

A smile tugged at Simon's lips at your reaction. "Wanted to be a cook when I was younger," he admitted casually.

Which hadn’t been a lie, when he was younger he dreamed of opening his own restaurant.

Your eyebrows raised at his revelation. You hadn't expected him to be so open about himself. Relaxing into your chair, you took a sip of wine before sharing a bit of your own past. "I wanted to be a florist."

Simon's interest was piqued, finally getting a glimpse into your backstory. "Florist to surgeon? Pretty different occupations," he remarked, taking a sip of his own wine.

You laughed as you finished your glass and reached for the bottle to pour yourself more. "From a cook to a hitman?" you teased lightly.

Simon grinned in response. "Fair enough.”

Curious about what had steered him away from his childhood dream, you prodded gently, "What steered you away?"

Simon's expression shifted briefly, a flicker of memories passing through his eyes as he glanced down at his plate. "Different circumstances,"

Reflecting on your own past, you nodded in understanding. "Yeah, me too," you murmured, the weight of shared experiences hanging in the air between you.

As the evening wore on and a few more glasses of wine were shared between you and Simon, you found yourself loosening up. Eventually, you began to vent about your past jobs, particularly about a hospital where the nurses were brain dead fucks. You launched into a rant about all of them, each one seemingly worse than the last.

Simon listened intently, his grin widening as he realized the wealth of information you were unwittingly providing him. With each complaint, he mentally cataloged the names and details, knowing that he now had enough clues to get a glimpse into your past.

That night as you slept upstairs, Simon delved into the depths of the internet, scouring through various websites until he stumbled upon a list of old employers associated with your previous job. It didn't take long for him to piece together the missing parts of your identity, and soon enough, he discovered your last name.

Simon navigated through the dark web, his fingers typing in your name with a mixture of curiosity. What he found made his stomach clench.

Before him lay a website, one he was all too familiar with, an organization specializing in sex work. As he scrolled through, he saw old listings featuring you, offering your services for hire. He glanced away when he clicked on a link and saw pictures of you dressed in scant clothing, your eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and fear.

You were only a teenager, no older than seventeen.

His eyes read over an old listing offering a hefty reward for anyone who could locate and return you to them. 

It didn't even cross his mind to entertain the idea of betraying you. In his eyes, you were worth infinitely more than any sum of money or reward. As he sat there, reflecting on your past and the horrors you endured, he couldn't fathom the thought of dragging you back into that nightmarish world.

Your value to him went beyond any material gain, your skill as a doctor made you irreplaceable. And as someone who understood the pain of being used, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting you to that kind of life again.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, everything suddenly made sense, your reluctance to work for him, your aversion to joining him on contracts.

He hadn't expected you to be remotely tied to the black market, let alone be a victim of it. He had unknowingly brought you back to a world you were desperately trying to escape.

You find yourself unable to sleep, plagued by a throbbing headache that refuses to go away. Desperate for relief, you make your way down to the basement in search of Advil, hoping it will alleviate the pounding in your head. As you reach the last step of the basement you see simon at his desk with his back turned toward you.

Your eyes glance at the computer screen and your heart plummets.

Images of your younger self, captured and exploited, sold into a life of servitude and suffering. The shock of seeing your own face reflected back at you in such a vulnerable state leaves you reeling, the pain in your head momentarily forgotten in the wake of this unwelcome intrusion into your past.

"Happy with what you found?" The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, your voice tinged with bitterness. Simon's startled expression told you he hadn't anticipated your arrival, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and guilt.

"Just wanted to know who you were… wanted to know why you didn’t want to work for me," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of remorse.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the screen, the images of your younger self serving as a painful reminder of the horrors you endured.

"Sometimes people want their lives and past to be private," you murmured, your words heavy with the weight of years of suffering and trauma.

Simon knew that feeling better than anyone.

"I'm sorry," Simon offered, his apology hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

"No, you're not," you muttered bitterly, turning away and ascending the steps. As you disappeared from view, he sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair.

“Fuckin hell.”

The next morning, you found Simon waiting for you with breakfast prepared, a silent acknowledgment of his attempt to bridge the gap between you. Awkwardly, you took your seat at the table, the tension between you thick as you both ate in silence. The weight of his invasion of your privacy hung heavily in the air.

But then, as if unable to bear the tension any longer, Simon spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of his own past.

"The reason I didn't pursue my dream as a kid was because I enlisted in the military… my captain sold me out and I was captured, tortured, and used... anything to break my will and force me into blind obedience to their commands."

"I escaped," he continued, "After being buried alive and digging my way out with the jaw of the rotting corpse I was buried with. I made it home, went to therapy, and fixed my family troubles."

As he spoke, you could feel the weight of his trauma, the scars etched into his very being. "My teammates were also captured, but they were brainwashed. When I returned home one night, I found my family dead, my former team being responsible for their deaths. I hunted them down with the help of the black market and killed them. Since then, I've remained in this line of work.."

You sat there in stunned silence, his words sinking in like heavy stones in a pond. Simon continued to eat as if what he had just revealed was just another fact of life.

In that moment, you realized he already knew so much about your past; perhaps it was time to lay it all bare. With a heavy heart, you met his gaze, finding a shared understanding in the depths of his eyes.

“I was seventeen when a few men broke into my house one night, dragged me and my parents into the living room, and made me watch as they tortured my dad and had their way with my mom before killing the both of them.”

Your focus shifted to the small droplets of water falling against the side of your cup, each one mirroring the weight of the memories you carried.

“I was sold around before I made my way to the organization you were looking at last night. There was a group of us, we were sold to different men for our services.” The room fell silent as you paused, your gaze dropping to your lap for a few moments.

Simon, ever perceptive, sensed your discomfort in revisiting those painful moments from your past. “You don't have to talk about it, love,” he said gently, his voice carrying an understanding tone. “I understand—”

“A lot of the girls were rebellious, so they would get taught lessons,” you cut him off, your voice carrying the weight of each painful memory.

“That's where I learned how to patch up the girls with very little supplies. The man in charge noticed, so he made me start patching up the men who worked for him.” You picked at the skin around your nails as you furrowed your brows. Simon’s gaze never left you, his eyes bouncing over your facial expressions.

“Their injuries weren’t just simple scratches and cuts. They would get stabbed, or shot, and when I failed to save one of them, he made me watch as he tortured one of the girls, killing her slowly as my punishment… It happened two more times after that. I wasn't a fucking surgeon, I didn't know what I was doing.” you recounted, your now fingers picking at the hem of the place mat, the memories still haunting you.

“My lack of skill resulted in the deaths of three girls. I spent five years there, playing doctor for him when he needed it and earning him money with my services. During one of my transports for a service, the car was attacked by one of their rivals, which allowed me to escape. Now I'm here.”

The weight of those years is heavy in your voice. The barriers between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shared understanding of the pain and suffering you both carried within you.

"I became skilled out of necessity; failure meant the death of innocent girls."

You took a deep breath before locking eyes with him. “I'm sorry about what happened to you and your family. You didn't deserve that."

You paused for a second before continuing, "I wish you never enlisted.” His brows furrowed as he studied your expression. “Why?”

“Because you’d be working at some restaurant, and I would have never met you or been dragged back into this business.” Simon exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair.

“You're safe here. We're nowhere near Russia, and if someone tried to fulfill the contract, I’d be here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows, your voice tinged with confusion. “What contract?”

“There’s an eight hundred thousand dollar contract open to whoever can deliver you back to Finn.” Your expression twisted with disgust at the mention of his name, recalling the fear he instilled in you for years.

“When was the contract posted?” Simon shook his head. “Years ago.” You nodded slowly as you picked at your food with your fork.

“I'm sorry, for digging into your past and dragging you back into this, you didn’t deserve that. If you want to leave you can.”  You smiled and scoffed, “And pass up a free bodyguard, free five-star meals, and easy money? Yeah right.” Simon laughed and you smiled.

“Resourceful girl.”

“What can I say.” 

You finished off your breakfast with a comfortable silence and some light back and forth about a new contract Simon was thinking about accepting. Simon picked up both plates and rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher.

“A colleague of mine is coming in two weeks or so, he’s going to help me with a contract.” 

You hummed and nodded your head, “Where is he going to stay?”

Simon grabbed a bowl of fruit out of the fridge and started picking at it. “He’s staying here.” You furrowed your brows and leaned against the counter next to Simon, your arm grazing his slightly as you reached for a strawberry in the bowl.

He watched as you brought the plump strawberry to your lips, looking away before you glanced back up at him. “What’s he like?”

“Don’t worry, you're safe around him, he is Scottish though.” You lifted your brow as you looked up at him, “Is being Scottish bad?”

“Bastard will talk your ear off.” 

Black market tag list: @shinchanboi @talooolaaloolla @lieutenantlashfaz @neothewitch @birdienotting @jupiternighties @samiiii333 @silverianni @elowynnlane @lotionlamp @ssc7514 @iloveloveeducks @rejectedbytheempty

If you want to be added or removed from the main tag list or the Black market tag list just lmk!

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request the demon brothers with a lover who says strange things in their sleep? Like, they're just napping and all of a sudden, they say "potato fairy".

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah! Absolutely!

I'm sorry some are really short but hopefully it's at least not forced so I still hope you'll like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff, TW: slight mentions of guts in Asmo's part (just skip the dialogue)

✧ Lucifer is probably one of the rare demons who doesn't make big deal out of your habit

✧ it's just like snoring but... talking. And it just happens to be a bit stupid. He's seen worse things

✧ he'll move you to some private space when you fall asleep in public so you can rest there, without worrying layer about anyone hearing your mumbles

✧ he's usually not even paying attention to what you're saying in your sleep and just gets lost in his work

✧ even if he hears what you're saying, he's not gonna tease you about it, unless you really want to hear about things you've said

"It wasn't really anything out of the ordinary. Again, talking and flying fruits. I didn't listen to your descriptions. Sorry dear, but I had work to finish."

✧ overally, it's like he doesn't even notice that trait of yours

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ you scared the living out of Mammon the first time you did that

✧ he didn't knew you talk in your sleep in the first place so imagine fear on his face when you didn't answered simple questions

"MC, what do you mean...?"

"flying piggies..."

"WHERE-?!"

✧ literally believes you every time for some reason...

✧ don't you dare spooking him with ghosts or so because he'll end up clinging onto your pretending to just be "warming you up because you were shaking" ignoring the fact it's him who's shaking

✧ you'd think it'd get better with time, and yes it does a bit?

✧ when he's in front of someone and you start talking stupid things, he'll just explain how it's your habit, but he'll still have quick and sly look around his surroundings just in case...

✧ you're making this man lovkey paranoid a bit, especially if he's after horror movie... then it's even worse!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Levi sometimes doesn't even realize you've felt asleep to be honest

✧ he's sometimes so lost in his game or anime, he responds automatically without thinking about it

✧ it's just a habit when he's too focused on his things to just get rid of somebody

✧ it's honestly even funnier when he realizes what you two are talking about and stops everything he's doing to have a lag

"We can conquer the marshmallow kingdom later."

"But teddy bears..."

"Teddybears can wai- hold on... What...?"

✧ he's not letting anyone else hear you to save you the emberassment, so any time you fall asleep in public, he'll try to take you to his or your room, or anywhere private so you can rest

✧ he mostly doesn't even remember stories you've told him unless they really broke his mind so it's rare when you get to hear about things you've said in your sleep

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Satan simply finds it funny

✧ people who talk in their sleep, sometimes tend to respond and he'll use it to have laugh of the year

"bugs with crowns..."

"Oh really? Why do they have crowns, MC?"

"They beated up Lucifer, then Diavolo..."

✧ the stories you've come up with in your sleep are truly worth writing down and you bet he does just that and reads them to you once you're awake

✧ he's not trying to be mean, he simply can't resist making you a bit pouty and blushy with your habit

✧ though he'll skip this part when others are around and won't mess with you, that's for his ears and eyes only~

✧ weirdly, you fell asleep around him more often after he've discovered your habit

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your cat lover!

✧ Asmo, similar to Satan, likes to have a chuckle thanks to your little habit

✧ though he's not as mean about it and has more casual conversation, eventually chuckling more from cuteness of your words rather than the fact he finds it funny

✧ sometimes tho, he may get dramatic with it

✧ try to say something stupid about self-care and he'll have an argument with your sleepy self

"I put jellyfish jam on my face and now I'm dazzling..~"

"You- YOU PUT JELLYFISH GUTS ON YOUR FACE?! Oh no, no! Listen closely, MC, you can't..."

✧ when you wake up, he doesn't let you go untill you two have your skin-care night/morning

✧ he won't be afraid to let you nap in public, after all your mumbling is cute!

✧ speaking of which, he doesn't mind telling others he's close to about what you said last night but he'll stop if you feel uncomfortable with that

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your pretty princess~

✧ Beel is another rare demon who doesn't make big deal out of it!

✧ he talks in his sleep too, and so does Belphie. He began ignoring sleep talking for quite a while now

✧ don't ask him what you've said because poor boy doesn't even remember

✧ he won't really touch or move you when you're asleep but he might sit down next to you and be like your little body guard

✧ if you ask him to tho, he'll move you to more private place when he catches you asleep somewhere public, he wants to make sure you're comfortable after all!

✧ but if you don't mind, he'll just let you rest like you are

"and then... bathtub elve came out..."

"Do they-"

"Oh yeah, they talk in their sleep. Anyway, are we going to that restaurant or not?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Belphie also talks in his sleep and believe me, it's sometimes even stupider than things you're saying

✧ like, if you two actually talk with each other in your sleep, stupidest and most creative stories happen

✧ ask someone Beel to record it for you and you'll have a good laugh

"bee's need our help..."

"they can burn on candy sun..."

"but lolipops will melt too..."

"just spill it on Lucifer... heh..~"

✧ even if Lucifer overhears any of your stories, he can't do anything because you're just talking in your sleep and not insulting him consciously or are you

✧ when he sees you sleeping in public, he just joins you

✧ even if you tell him to move you somewhere private, it "slips his mind as he's too tired" and you end up waking up in the same place but with Belphie next to you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your sleepyhead!

[aesethewitch]

Personal Protection: Surviving the Holidays

I'm of the opinion that far too many people around this time of year are fucking around, and it's high time they get to the finding out part. With major holidays right around the corner, many of us will be facing relatives we'd rather not see, parties we'd rather not go to, and conversations we'd rather avoid or exit as soon as possible. Political spats, unwanted opinions, snide remarks -- I believe that what you give out, you ought to receive back.

So, obviously, let's do some magic about it.

There are three main components to my method:

The Bubble;

The Quills; and

The Shake

The Bubble

Exactly what it sounds like, "the bubble" is the outermost layer of protection around you. It's the barrier between you and the unpleasantness you're trying to keep out.

The bubble can be one item carried or worn (such as a hat, crystal, or charm), or it can be multiple. I usually spring for two items, one to absorb/recycle and one to bounce/return to sender.

Absorb:

I've got a relative who is, at their essence, a fucking downer. That would be fine if not for the fact that if they're having a bad time or are mildly uncomfortable, it's about to be everyone's problem. This kind of negativity is something to absorb, not bounce. Sending it back would only double their misery, and that's no good for anyone.

So, instead, I have a special charm that I make for occasions when I know they're going to be around. It consists of a little piece of sponge that's sat in salt for a while atop a transformative sigil. The sponge, once fully charged and ready, will absorb the negative energy and recycle it into more positive feelings.

This means that their negativity won't impact me at all, and I actively improve the atmosphere. Their bad attitude can't do anything if everyone around us is only getting good vibes. The charm is powered by the exchange of negative to positive energy, so it requires no charging. However, it's smart to discard the sponge once it's done its job.

Bounce:

But sometimes, somebody's got to face real consequences. There are some things I don't want to deal with at all. Like gross political opinions from my conservative, religious family members. Or questions about having children.

The idea of the bounce is to reflect things before they reach me. It's a sort of glamor spell that projects an aura of "don't bother." It essentially lets me be passed over for conversations I want to leave or avoid entirely by bouncing attention away from me.

Negative energy, bad vibes, whatever you want to call it -- the goal is to return it to where it's coming from. Someone who's being an asshole will feel like an asshole. If it works right, they'll stop talking altogether because they're so irritated with what they're saying. I've had aggressive, vocal relatives go completely silent because they were receiving their own rancid energy back to themselves instead of the attention they were hoping for.

For me, this spell takes the form of a charm on my keys. It's a form of an evil eye charm -- not the blue-eyed stare you most likely think of, but another symbol meant to distract attention from me to it. It's a little pewter casting of the fig sign, an old and obscene gesture. It works on malevolent spirits best, but it does a great job of repelling unfortunate people, too. It bounces their nonsense back to themselves, often causing confusion, which forces them to reconsider what they're saying.

Again, this lives on my keys, which live in a key bowl when they're not clipped to my pocket or belt loop. The key bowl has a multi-purpose charging setup for the keys, my wallet, and other assorted charms I might wear when I go out.

The Quills

Sometimes, things get past our main line of defenses. That's fine, it happens. But under these circumstances, it happens because someone has deliberately crossed a line. So now, they get the quills.

When I say "the quills," you should be picturing something like a porcupine. Adorable, yes, but fuck with it at your own risk. Those quills aren't just for show, and neither should yours be. This is your second line of defense, and it's where we turn to offense.

Accordingly, the quills aren't passive spells like the bubble. These require conscious activation and direction to give you maximum control over their output. You can make your quills passive, but I often find that baneful workings work best when you're specifically choosing to use them.

Yes, baneful, and let me be perfectly clear: The goal is to harm whoever's crossed the line. You're not just returning to sender. You're catching what they've thrown at you, lighting it on fire, and pitching it back at full force.

To that end, there are two approaches I typically take (and are you sensing a pattern? I like to do things in twos). One spell to sharpen the tongue and give as good as I've gotten, and one to induce the smallest of lingering curses on the target.

Sharpen

The whole point of the quills is to make yourself an inconvenient, difficult target. Part of being difficult to swallow is not going down easily. Often, the answer is to avoid the conversation or problem altogether, but it isn't always possible. Or satisfying.

Sometimes, you gotta take a bitch down.

For me, this charm needs to do two things. It should boost my confidence in standing my ground and add some oomph to my argument. I have a pin with a particular design on it charmed for this purpose. The needle operates as the quill for stabbing (the oomph), and the design provides the confidence. Anointed with my Fuck Off Oil and laid in a dish of salt, garlic, and red chili flakes, the pin becomes extra spicy and effective.

This one has to be recharged each time it's used. It always lives on the same jacket, but I'll anoint it regularly to keep it fresh. If I use the charm on someone, I'll take the pin off at the end of the night and set it in the spicy salt mixture.

Linger

By far one of the most effective methods for reducing nonsense from unpleasant people I interact with regularly is lingering consequences. When someone associates bad luck with interacting with you, even on a subconscious level, they tend to avoid you.

Consider this the "slow poison" on the quills. The goal isn't to ruin their life by any means (although, I suppose you could...). It's just to make yourself unpalatable on an instinctive level. Think of how poisonous frogs are brightly colored to display that they're, you know, deadly. That's what we're doing here.

I prefer to use something kind of dangerous. Something you can hold onto and point with is best, in my experience. I've used a broken piece of glass, a rusty nail or screw, and various thorns. Right now, I'm using one half of a rusty pair of old cooking shears. The handle broke, but the blades are still sharp as hell. Waste not, and all that.

Anoint whatever the sharp, dangerous thing is in an oil infused with herbs and spices of your choice (again, the Fuck Off Oil is a good example). Or, if you prefer, coat it in something like hot sauce, urine, rust, or other corrosive and unpleasant things. Once prepared, stow it in your bag. Or your glove box, if you drive, since this makes a nice on-the-go curse to cast at shitty drivers.

You don't need to pull it out for it to work, but if you can get to a safe, secluded space (like a bathroom), it can help you focus. When you're creating it, you should set up an activation word, phrase, or motion. I prefer a motion -- something like tapping wherever the object is, a swirling movement with my hand, and then pointing at the target.

The curse you place is up to you. I tend to go for something like feeling nauseous or getting a headache. The spell should draw a connection between them being nasty to you and the unpleasant feeling, whether overt or subconscious. They'll be more cautious and reluctant to be a dick to you afterwards.

The Shake

Like a dog. Get that shit off of yourself.

No matter how thorough you are, there are always gaps and particularly stubborn people getting into them. Something they say just sticks to you like a burr, sharp and irritating. Or depressing, maybe.

The idea behind the shake is literal. You're forcibly removing the heavy weight or annoying itch someone else has placed on you. The shake isn't necessarily an item like with the bubble and quills. It can be, but it doesn't have to be.

Essentially, the steps to the shake are:

Identify what feels bad

Shake that shit

Resume normal activities

Maybe it's the neurodivergent in me, but physical movement is incredibly soothing. Self-regulation tactics are essential for survival. Transforming that into a little spell ritual at the same time is just two birds with one stone.

When things get overwhelming or I can feel my bubble failing to keep everything out at once (such as if a fight breaks out or someone decides to go in depth about one of my triggers), I remove myself from the situation. That's the first step. Retreat to a safe place, whether that's outside, in my car, in the bathroom, or elsewhere that's quiet. The second step is to figure out where in my body the anxiety or bad feeling is sitting. Often, it's in my shoulders and hands, but sometimes it's elsewhere.

Step three is to fucking shake. Shake those hands, roll my shoulders, jump up and down. Whatever it takes. As I do, I'm forcibly dislodging everything unpleasant out of myself and into the open air. And because I've got the negativity-absorbing bubble, it'll take the bad feeling and repurpose it into something more positive. Then, once I'm better, I can go back.

Again, you don't need an object for this, but you can certainly create one. Options would be comforting items, fidget toys, or even something like a joint. Sometimes, you just gotta blow smoke about it. You know?

Fun fact, though: You could also carry a vessel to contain the Bad Feelings for later use instead of letting your bubble absorb them. This comes in handy for people who are particularly abusive... as an example of what you want them to experience under the force of a more involved cursing.

If you like my work, consider throwing a tip my way! Supporters get early, exclusive, and extended access to my work for as low as $1.

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- Part 10 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER

Tag list:

WC: 5348

CW: Alcohol, SMUT VERY MUCH SMUT, oral, vaginal, dubious consent (If you squint. They both had like one drink)

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, take this as my apology. This is also my second time ever writing smut so uhhh take it as it is.

Summary: You and Leon go to a holiday dinner hosted by your friends. But surprise, you're feeling melancholic.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The freshly fallen snow had covered the surroundings of Washington D.C.. Looking like icing or a weighted blanket, it brought a chill yet a warmth. This season had the tendency to do this to you, after all this was the holiday for nostalgia. 

Your footsteps crunched on the snow as you made your way through the hip level gate into the front yard of the small house. Being from the north, “farming country” as the people in Boston called it, it always amused you what people would consider a yard. For most of America it meant a small area in the front of the house covered with dead grass. There were no woods here. 

There was no place to run like you used to as a kid.No place to explore uncharted, besides people. 

You would rather deal with the isolating darkness in the woods than try to figure out people. But, you were trying and that’s all that mattered.

A hand brushed up against yours, finding it and slipping into it. The warmth being spread even through layers of gloves and mittens caught your attention, bringing you back to reality. 

Your head turned to your right as the one person you may have just figured out stood next to you. 

“You okay? You seem a little spacey,” Leon’s voice asked, a billow of smoke coming out of his mouth into the freezing cold. 

“Yeah, just homesick,” You replied. 

Leon’s eyebrow raised, asking a silent question. Wasn’t this your home?

With a sigh, you leaned closer to him, shoulder to shoulder and still walking in tandem. “As much time as I spend here, I’m not sure it’ll feel like home,” You said. 

“Maybe that’ll change,” He replied. His arm raised to wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his warmth more. “But I get it, I still miss my life from before… everything.”

“Will it change?” You asked as the two of you stopped on the small wooden porch. Your eyes met his.

“The way I’ve learned it is that connections make a place home. You have friends here now, at least more than you used to,” Leon said and shrugged. “And y’know, you have more important people too.”

You stared blankly at him, confused at what he was hinting at. After a few seconds of silence between the two of you, Leon looked away, 

“My girlfriend doesn’t think I’m important to her,” He added, feigning offense.

Your eyes widened as your arms wrapped around him in an apology. “You confused me,” You said, frowning at him. “I thought you were talking about a family member or something,” You grumbled. 

Leon stared back at you, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh so I’m not a-”

He got cut off by you grabbing a fistful of snow and throwing it at him. 

“Jesus (Y/n), you are a thirty-two year old woman,” Leon said, wiping the snow off and spitting the parts that got in his mouth out. You would've thought he was being serious if it weren’t for the glint in his eyes.

“Don’t be a dipshit,” You said lightly and helped him get the snow off his face. 

“I thought you like my wit and charm,” He said, his voice carrying that teasing cadence that you had come to learn. 

“Who told you that? I’m only dating you for your looks,” You said facetiously, a grin on your face. 

“I don’t blame you.”

You were about to say something back when the front door suddenly opened in front of you. In the door stood Chris Redfield. He had on an ugly Christmas sweater with a garble of words on it that you couldn’t make out, a reindeer antler headband, and a flat expression on his face. 

Your hand covered your mouth, trying to hide the giggle that was almost coming out. In your peripheral, you could see that Leon was grinning almost ear to ear, amused at Chris’s appearance.

“You two are late,” Chris said and glanced at Leon.

“Why are you looking at me? It’s not my fault!” Leon said.

Chris looked at Leon, not believing him for a second. “I know (Y/n), it was definitely not her fault.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at Leon amused. “Anyways, everyone else is inside, leave your shoes at the door.” He turned to walk back into the house. 

With Chris’s absence, you could feel the warmth emitting from the house. It beckoned the two of you inside. Leon let you go in first, closing the door behind the two of you. You kicked off your snow boots and smelled the familiar smell of a heater running. 

You went to take your scarf off, but Leon beat you to it, spinning you slightly as he did so. The spin brought you closer to him and his body, leaving only a few inches between your faces. 

He had a knowing grin on his face, seeming amused with himself for being able to do that. 

“You know we’re with other people, right?” You asked and raised an eyebrow. 

Leon Kennedy was a gentleman at heart, but you knew that when he was being over the top it usually meant he wanted attention. He was a gentleman, but also somewhat like a male bird. Always wanting your attention and doing things to get it. 

“I know, gotta show off how good of a boyfriend you have,” Leon replied and kissed your cheek. Your fingers laced together when you and Leon’s hands found each other naturally. 

After a swift kiss, the two of you made your way into the living room, placing a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey on the counter. You didn’t expect the company to notice you walking in, but everyone said something of a greeting. 

Jill was on the couch with Chris, she smiled in recognition at you and your heart fluttered a bit. 

Had you mentioned before that Jill looked a lot like Leon and it confused your little heart? Not to mention her completely badass “get shit done” attitude made her very impressive. 

You watched as her arm draped across Chris’s shoulders and the two of them smiled warmly at each other. 

Leon started chatting with Claire while you found a spot on the floor next to your favorite Professor, Rebecca Chambers. Ever since you met the woman, you had a lot of respect for her; she was a biochem college professor, a PhD doctor, a previous S.T.A.R.S. member, and a kickass combat medic. She also had a warm attitude that made any situation more manageable. 

You had come to be friends with her after that whole mess with Glen Arias. 

“Merry Christmas, (Y/n),” Rebecca said and gave you a warm smile. 

You said the same back and the two of you began talking about how the past few months had gone. It had officially been five months since Alcatraz and while you wanted to keep in touch, it took a nudge from Leon to reach out to people. 

The living room was filled with a type of warmth you hadn’t experienced since before your world came crashing down around you. You hadn’t felt like this since…..

Since New Hampshire…

Home.

 “Okay guys, onto our first holiday tradition!” Claire said with authority, standing up. 

“Do we have to this ye-” Chris started.

“Yes, we do, don’t be a grouch!” Claire said, staring at her brother. 

You looked at the two of them and lightly smiled as memories flooded you. 

You had a family. You knew they were still alive, but they didn’t know you were. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

February 24th 2009

The snow felt different here than you were used to. What was a beautiful blanket of snow in your small apple farming town, was a bitter, sharp, force of nature in the city. 

You always had mixed feelings about Boston, on one hand it was fun to have a major city an hour away from your house, but on the other hand you liked the distance. You tended to keep a distance, a separation between the city and your hometown. 

That’s what your parents did anyways. They came from the city, opting for a small town with good education to raise you and your brother. But now, you were back in the cold city, your usual coffee order sitting on the table in front of you while your eyes searched for anyone familiar. 

Your head leaned on your hand as you thought about this time of year. Your birthday was a month ago, but it wasn’t celebratory. You got a pat on the back from your Captain for making it one more year around the sun. 

If your captain knew you snuck out, you’d be discharged, your thoughts ran wild. And if you get discharged, you catch the discharge out of a gun, you know too much.

Your leg started bouncing up and down, something you had started doing since joining USStratcom. 

If you didn’t see them, it wasn’t worth it. The torture you were put through every day wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t just see the people you did this for. 

When the government found you after what happened in Manchester, your options were either to join USStratcom and get trained to fight whatever horror you saw that night or to decline. If you declined, you would’ve been checked out of this world early, your blood spilling on the ground and your family would soon join you. 

The U.S. government didn’t like loose ends. 

Your eyes searched the sidewalk as you finally saw a glimpse at who you came here for. 

Across the street, a woman threw back her rain coat’s hood, revealing the same face that was your own, only more aged. Your mother reached into her purse to find something, then produced a key. She put it in a door and walked up a flight of stairs and out of sight. 

Just like that, she appeared and was gone. Within the span of thirty seconds. She was just passing, going into her apartment like she did everyday. IT was something so small, but to you it meant the world. 

You saw a light turn on in a room on the fifth floor. From your seat, you could see the curtain moving and the sight of a man around your age appeared in the window. 

They were alive and living their lives, unaware of what happened to you.

The government didn’t answer any questions about you to your family, they just took you as soon as you agreed to join USStratcom. 

You brought your coffee out the door with you, taking your umbrella out and opening it. Using the crosswalk, you walked across the street and looked at the door your mom entered. 

It was almost like you could feel the red dot appear on your back as a bead of sweat rolled down your face. You shouldn’t go in, you shouldn’t have even seen them. 

But you wanted them to know you were okay…. 

The rain hit the sidewalk and the sound of the doorbell could be heard inside of the apartment. However, when the woman opened the door, the person who rang it was gone, leaving only the ghost of memories and a single flower on the welcome mat. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“(Y/n)?” Leon’s voice cut through the memory, bringing you back to Jill’s house.

You blinked a bit, shaking your head slightly and looked down at the table. Somehow, while enthralled in the memory, you had sat down at the dining table and started playing a board game with everyone else. It would be impressive, if it wasn’t scary how good you were at that. 

Your eyes looked down at the money you owned in the game and you rolled the dice. Your turn went quickly, as you wanted this to be done. 

It felt like you had gotten ripped out of a separate reality. And for all intents and purposes, you did. 

Leon’s hand went to the back of your chair and he searched your face, knowing something was wrong. 

“Hey, Redfield, play for me. And Jill, play for (Y/n).” Leon said and stood up, nodding to the other room. 

You followed him as you heard Chris grumbling about not wanting to play. 

The voices and the light from the dining room started getting more distant the further you went into Jill’s house. Leon motioned for you to head into the guest room and you did without question. 

When Leon walked in, he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?” He asked and looked down at you. His hand came up to stroke your cheek and he cupped your face. 

“It’s nothing… just a memory,” You replied, your gaze sinking to the floor. 

“Just a memory? Raccoon City could be ‘just a memory’. Nothing is small if it affects you this much.” Leon replied, now holding your face with two hands. 

He tilted your head up so you were looking at him. “Please, tell me. We promised to talk to each other.” He added.

If anyone could melt your heart easily, it was Leon Kennedy. Even as a late 30s year old man, he could act like a little puppy. Especially now when he was giving you the stare that unwound your heart. 

“It was a memory about sneaking away from training and seeing my mom.” You replied, your arms reaching out for him. He pulled you closer and leaned his head on top of yours. 

“She knows you’re alive?” Leon asked. 

“No. I made sure she didn’t see me. This life is too hard to have a family in.” You answered and nestled into him. “Except for maybe other people that know this life.” You added and looked up at him. To add a certain element to it, you bat your eyelashes at him, hoping he would fall for the bait. 

“Very cute, but I’m not falling for it,” Leon said, a smile on his lips. “We’re not leaving early.”

You pouted at him. “That’s not what I meant…” You grumbled. 

Leon’s lips met your forehead in a quick kiss, then his lips met yours. The softness of his lips against your skin set everything in you ablaze. He was your warmth on a cold day like today. 

“Is that what you were looking for?” He asked. 

“Actually, yes,” You replied and chuckled. The two of you stared at each other with the magnitude of two planets coming together. His soft blue eyes met your (e/c) ones. 

“I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said, sighing. The usual smirk was plastered on his face. “But seriously, we promised to be communicative with each other, and I want to know what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours.”

His lips met your temple in a quick peck. 

“Okay,” You replied. Your hands wrapped around his waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Feeling better?” He asked. His hands ran up and down your arms, soothing and warming you up. 

You nodded in reply, your face moving against his shirt. 

“Alright, let’s head back in there and get drunk,” Leon said facetiously and kissed your cheek again. “I’ll even let you sit on my lap if you’re good.” The grin on his face was enough for you to playfully slap his arm. 

“I'll take the offer but don't be weird about it,” You answered and stuck your tongue out. The two of you made your way back to the table and it was like walking into a battlefield.

It wasn’t hard to determine what happened, Claire and Chris were scrubbing the carpet with sponges, Rebecca was picking up broken glasses, Jill was picking up the board game that had been scattered on the floor. The table was tipped over and Chris had a guilty look on his face as he scrubbed away at the coffee and alcohol stains on Jill’s carpet. 

You and Leon helped put the table back and Jill put cards on the table. “Christopher, I swear to God if I have to ban you from playing fucking cards, I will,” She said and glared at him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The cards were dealt and the alcohol was poured. You were watching Leon play, as you were never one to play Texas Holdem; you could never get the rules down unless you had the chart of what was most valuable by your side. 

You were seated between Leon’s legs, your back against his chest. His head was leaned on your shoulder as he studied the cards in his hand. Your eyes looked at the cards as you took a sip from your glass. The alcohol smoothly went down your throat, surprising you. Whiskey usually didn’t appeal to you, but then again neither did wine. 

And your choice was one of the two. 

As you kept sipping from your glass, Leon’s arm around your waist tightened. “Slow down,” His voice gently warned you. 

You were used to drinks that you would shoot, and Leon could tell you would be in for a rough morning if you continued. Thanks to his words, you put the glass back down on the table and watched the game play out.

Claire won, as usual, and she collected the total of 5.00$ from the pile. You got more comfortable, squirming around in the chair as you did so. What you hadn’t taken into account was how close you were to Leon and that when you moved, you slightly rubbed up against him, earning you a slight, sharp inhale from your boyfriend. 

“Can you sit still?” Leon asked quietly, looking at you. You nodded in reply, noticing how his ears were red with blush. 

An idea came to your head. 

Was it fueled by the slight amount of whiskey in your system? Maybe, but it wasn’t abnormal for you to mess with Leon. If he was allowed to tease you, then certainly you were allowed to tease him. 

Without catching anyone else’s attention, you moved slightly, pressing your ass against his pants more. You moved slightly side to side, which caused Leon to slightly hiss and move his free hand from your waist to your hip to hold you still. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” He whispered in your ear. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at how bothered he sounded. Maybe you were playing a dangerous game, but you were certainly ready for the consequences of your actions. 

You moved a little more, pressing yourself against him more-

With a pap!, Leon’s cards were put face up on the table. “Well guys, thanks for having us. Me and Sadie still have work tomorrow, so we’re actually gonna head out,” Leon’s voice said.

“Really? In the middle of a game?” Jill asked, her eyebrow arched. 

Leon nodded adamantly. “The bosses want us in bright and early. (Y/n) doesn’t do mornings well, so it’s best to head home early. We’ll see you for New Year’s,” He said and tapped your hips to get you up. 

You stood up and he grabbed your hand leading you to the door to grab your shoes. 

“Bye! It was really fun, thanks for inviting me,” You said with a smile. 

“Of course, you’re part of the family now,” Claire said, matter-of-factly. 

Family…. 

The word rang in your ears and you thought about it, lingered on it so much that you hadn’t even noticed you were now getting out of your car in the parking garage. Leon’s hand was in yours as the two of you walked to the door. 

Claire had said family, you belonged. 

The thought could have brought tears to your eyes if you weren’t also thinking about your current situation. 

Suddenly, you were in your apartment, the door closing behind you and Leon pinning you to the door. 

“Really?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. His large, muscular forearm was right next to your head.

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

He stared at you. “I told you that you were playing a dangerous game,” He added. 

A grin pulled at your lips as you slightly bit your bottom lip. “I know,” You replied. 

Leon pinched his nose and sighed. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said. His eyes then locked with yours and he leaned in, leaving only a few inches of space between the two of you. “But other times, I know what I want to do to you.” His eyes turned into a fire, something you were now all too familiar with. 

“And what would that be?” You asked, tilting your head up to him. 

He leaned in close, almost like he was going to bite your neck, his breath hot against your neck. 

“I’m going to make you cum on my mouth, then my dick,” He said. 

Your face turned a deep shade of red at his words. “Is- is that a promise?” You asked, still trying to remain in control of your heart and emotions that were dialed all the way up. 

“You’re so cute when you try to fight how flustered you are,” He hummed and kissed your neck. His teeth lightly bit down and his lips left a mark as he pulled away. 

He picked you up by your waist, earning a yelp from your lips, and carried you through your apartment to the bedroom. He dropped you gently on the mattress and his lips were on yours in an instant.  

His knees were on either side of your legs and one of his hands was on your hip while the other one kept him upright on the bed. 

Your lips crashed together, begging to taste the other. Leon’s teeth lightly bit your bottom lip, asking for permission. You opened your lips and his tongue entered your mouth, searching for your own. Your tongues locked together and twirled in a way that could only be described as dancing. 

As you pulled away for a breath, you noticed his hands were already working on taking your pants off, the jeans being halfway down your legs. Leon’s eyes locked with yours again as a slight, cocky, smirk graced his face. 

“Tell me what you want,” He mused, his hand pulling your pants off all the way. Then, his hand came up to your hair, running through the strands. “Use your words, we promised to be communicative,” He added. 

“I need your mouth between my legs,” You said breathlessly. He took your words as a green light and almost ripped your panties off. 

Leon was a gentle lover most of the time, especially when you wanted him to be, but playing with him and getting him all riled up was the easiest way to make him intense. You had made the man desperate for you undone, wrapped around him. 

He moved lower, his lips trailing down your shirt and stomach. As he moved lower, his body inched lower, making room for him near your core. 

He grabbed a pillow and put it at the small of your back, angling your, now uncovered, entrance towards him. With a slight hum, he kissed the inside of your thigh, teasing you. 

His lips felt like feathers, then a sudden pain shot up your body. Leaning up on your elbows, and looking at him, you could see that he had slightly bit into your thigh, leaving a mark. He kissed your body like a man starved, like he had been deprived of a core need his entire life. Even though your sex life was colorful and frequent, he always treated you like he was tasting and feeling you for the first time. 

A jolt of pleasure finally hit you as his tongue found your clit, swollen in anticipation and arousal. A small moan escaped your lips as your head hung back, looking up at the ceiling. 

You could almost feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed your vulva, making sure to worship all of your parts and give them what they craved. His arms hooked around your thighs, bringing your body closer to his face. 

Your back arched against the pillow as another jolt of pleasure surged through you, feeling his tongue and lips paying attention to every part that needed it. You two had been together long enough for Leon to know where and how to pleasure you. He knew your body like his own, wanting to leave you so satisfied that you couldn’t talk. 

“Babe, babe, slow down!” You whimpered, your hand digging into his hair and pulling it slightly. “I’m gonna-” You were cut off by a moan leaving your lips. Your eyes met his and it felt like you were prey stuck in the gaze of a hunter. 

He pulled away slightly, giving you a bit of respite, and he titled his head. “Do you actually want me to slow down?” He asked, his eyes turning softer. 

You shook your head a bit and he nodded, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “I said what I wanted to do to you, don’t deny a man his partner’s pleasure,” He said and moved back down, assuming the position he had before. 

He kept lapping at your clit, making you flex your thigh muscles. The pleasure ran through your whole body as you hit your orgasm. A moan left your lips as you could feel your pussy clenching around something that wasn’t there, aching for him. Your body instantly relaxed into the mattress as you were coming down from your climax. Leon sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, licking his lips to clean up any of your cum from them. 

He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek again. Your hands found their way to his chest and ran over the muscles there as he started to take off his pants. 

His pants were off in a few seconds and the same with his boxers. You sat up and your hand went to feel his shaft, but his hand stopped you. He kissed your cheek again, his words hot on your ear. “Not tonight. I want to please you tonight,” He said quietly. 

His hands lifted your shirt over your head and his mouth was on your breasts. His hands wrapped around your back and unhooked your bra, leaving you completely bare to him. Your breath hitched as his lips made their way back to your neck. 

With ease, Leon had you in his lap, facing him. The two of you loved this position, being as close as you possibly could, facing each other. It felt intimate and it could be rough if the night permitted it. 

And tonight did permit it. 

Leon only took a few seconds to coat the tip of his dick with your climax. He teased your entrance, then slammed into you. A moan escaped both of your lips as his dicks slid effortlessly into you, your walls being accustomed to his size and shape by now. 

Your face leaned into his shoulder as he started snapping his hips into you. The movement made you wrap your arms around his neck like you would fall off. His hands went to your hips, making you move in opposition to his movements, making the come together all the more pleasurable. 

Leon moved your hair out of your face with one hand and he smiled at you. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. And only I get to see you this way,” He said, kissing your forehead. 

His words were enough to make your pussy clench around him more, causing a moan to fall out of his lips. 

“You take me so well, holy fuck,” He said breathlessly.

All that could be heard in the room was obscene sounds and Leon praising you between the two of your moans. 

The hot pleasure was building inside of you, and you could feel Leono’s dick twitching inside of you. 

“Where do you want it?” He asked quickly, trying to get the words out. 

“You can stay in,” You said, your eyes meeting his. He nodded, his eyes half squeezed shut from a nearing climax. 

In a moment that came together perfectly, pun intended, you reached your orgasm. You made a sound that was a mix of a whimper and a moan, pulling yourself closer to Leon in the process. You saw stars as you got sent over the edge, feeling your pleasure explode within you. 

With a slight haa Leon kept going, feeling his dick getting squeezed by your walls. “I’m gonna-” He got cut off by his own moan and he buried his face in your shoulder and snapped his hips into you a few more times. 

You felt his cum drip into you, evident by Leon panting and the back of his neck being red with a blush. Your hand gently ran through the hair on the back of his head, soothing him through his own orgasm. 

After a few minutes of being in your arms like this, he came back to. “I’ll go gr

After a few minutes of being in your arms like that, he came to. His breathing got more regular, going from a pant to barely being audible. His muscles relaxed and his grip on you got looser. 

“I’ll go grab you a towel,” He said and pulled out. Both of you winced at the sudden stimulation again and he got up to grab a towel from the bathroom.

He came back with a bowl of fruit, some water, and a towel. Climbing back on the bed, he put the water and fruit on the nightstand and gently cleaned you off with the towel. His hands made quick and easy work, making sure to clean off your sweat as well. 

After, he settled down next to you and pulled you into his arms. His arm wrapped around your waist and the other grabbed your snacks as he kissed your head. 

“How’re you feeling, (Y/n)?” He asked softly. 

“Good…” You mumbled and popped a raspberry in your mouth. 

The two of you laid together, regaining whatever energy you could in each others’ warmth. Leon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled warmly at you. 

“I think I found something I’ve been looking for for a long time,” He said blissfully. 

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. 

“Someone that’s my family, someone I belong to. And someone that belongs to me,” He explained. 

Your eyebrows relaxed as you smiled at his words. 

Thinking about the past few months with this man, no the past few years, was enough to give you that same sense of warmth. He took you under his wing as a field partner, he never pried about your past until you wanted to open up to him. 

The endless amount of bar hang out, the numerous missions, all of came to mind. And you were finding yourself of the same mind as him. 

No matter your past, you were part of his family now, and he yours. The two of you were unstoppable on the field and in your relationship. You didn't know how to say all the thoughts and words swimming in your head, so you opted for three words that would sum it all up.

“I love you,” You said quietly and leaned into his embrace. 

His smile widened and he squeezed you closer. “I love you too,” He replied. 

No matter what fucked up bioweapon came your way next, you were certain that you could always come back to your family- Leon Kennedy.