#or being snuggled up under several heavy blankets that knock me out cold

[goldensunset]

my ideal state if it were possible would be to be constantly either showering or sleeping. or both at once. i want to live life snoozing in a warm bathtub but like also still function as a person

[randofics]

Daredevil/Matt Murdock x southern reader pt2? 18+

Had to write this as soon as I came up with it. This one may be a bit of a slow burn but I feel like Matt would do things a bit slower. I just love the idea of him leaning into his other senses when being intimate and focusing on giving the most pleasurable experience possible.

18+ Under the cut

Winter in New York was not your friend. The first week or so was fine but it soon grew tiresome for you. The thick blanket of snow left on your apartment steps was a constant struggle as well as the ice it often left behind if you didn't clean it in time. You had almost wiped out several times walking up or down them. Matt's apartment building didn't have that problem as his building's staff kept on top of it during winter so that he wouldn't be hurt while leaving. The sandpaper grips on the steps also helped.

It was late and you had decided to surprise Matt with an early Christmas gift. The small box was tucked under your arm as you walked into the elevator. As it lifted you up to his floor you grew excited to see how he would react to the present. With a pep in your step you walked to his door and knocked. You could hear him yell to you from inside so you waited patiently. "Who is it?" "It's me Matt!" With that you heard the lock on his door unlatch and you were greeted by his bright smile. That smile always managed to make your heart flutter. He closed the door after you walked inside and you turned to greet him only to be left speechless. He didn't have a shirt on, and his dark grey sweats were hanging low on his hips displaying the prominent v to his abdomen. He was still wearing his glasses for some reason, perhaps he just forgot them?

You hadn't really seen him shirtless yet, and you were so used to the suits and dress shirts and occasionally casual clothes. You hadn't imagined he'd be this well built. His voice brought you out of your gawking. "You didn't greet me like you usually do is something wrong?" He sounded a bit worried at your silence. "OH no it's nothing just got distracted for a sec. I got you an early Christmas gift!" He looks a bit surprised but holds his hands out for you. You place the box in his hands and he feels it for a second before experimentally shaking it. Not much sound comes from the box but he gives you an excited smile and starts to rip off the wrapping paper. He pulls the lid off and takes out its contents feeling them carefully. A pair of soft wool socks with black red and grey stripes is the first thing he pulls out. He usually wore an old pair of socks around his apartment or none at all so you wanted to get a warm new pair for him. The next item was a new pair of fingerless gloves with the ends able to cover his fingers if he wanted to. It was just a plain black pair but you thought he'd like using them while it was still cold out. Sure he did have gloves but none were fingerless.

The last item was a Keychain you had found online. It was a simple rectangle of metal but it had braille on it. You had gotten it custom for him. He felt the bumps on the cool surface and smiled. "Justice and faith?" "I couldn't think of anything else so I chose two parts of you. You're a lawyer and you're catholic." "Well thank you baby." He pulls you in for a hug and you relax into him. "By the way how are you not cold?" He snorts in amusement. "I'm used to it. Lived in New York all my life after all." You nuzzel into his neck and feel his body radiating heat. "How about we sit on the couch and you can snuggle into me more?" You hum and let go walking to the couch with him. He plops down and you take off your heavy coat tossing it on the chair. Your boots are shucked off under the coffee table and you straddle his lap. You're about to lay on him when you take in his figure under you. In the dim light you can just barely make out the scars on his skin. That's surprising to you but you choose to ignore that for now. You drag your hand down his chest to his well defined abs. When you look up his expression makes you squeek. There's a dangerous grin on his face and you feel heat creep across your cheeks.

"By all means don't stop on my account." You trace the lines of muscle down his abdomen making the skin quiver under your fingers. He lets out a shaky breath at your touch and you lean down pressing your chest into his. You feel his hands grip your hips as you slip off his shades. His green eye's shift from side to side as he feels up your back. You caress his jaw and guide him to kiss you giving his plump lips a few languid pecks. He suddenly moves so his back is against the back of the couch with you still on top of him. Gripping your thighs he pulls you further into him centering your now twitching core over his crotch. His hand moves to your jaw and he pulls you in for another longer kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers tangle in his short brown locks as the kiss grows heated.

He can feel and hear everything. The moment you paused in greeting him he heard your heartrate quicken and the slight nervous tone in your voice. And when you sat on him and paused again he could feel your core twitching on him. He absolutely grinned when he felt your hands roam over him and heard your heartrate quicken again. That little squeak when you looked at his expression was adorable and at this point he wanted to hear more. He hadn't often been this intimate with you as he was either too busy with work or you just weren't in the mood for anything more than some slow kissing. Now sure he thoroughly enjoyed whatever you wanted to do with him but this time felt different. He wanted you badly and it seemed you may be in the same mood. His own heart starts to beat quicker and soon he turns his attention to your neck.

He pulls away only to kiss your neck. You tilt your head for him and squeak when you feel him nip your throat. You jump but just as quickly relax back into him. His tongue licks across your skin and you shiver. A whimper escapes your throat when he licks over your adams apple. He kisses down to your collar bone but the collar of your shirt gets in his way. His fingers find the hem and pull it up and over your head tossing it to the floor. With the offending clothing out of his way he kisses over your chest. With the need for a bit of pressure growing every second you wriggle your hips into him. He groans in your ear at the friction and grips your hips tight. But suddenly he freezes as though he's realized something. "Hold on a second baby." He nudges you to get off him and he practically runs into the other room. It surprises you that he doesn't run into anything and he just as quickly runs back to you. A small square packet is between his pointer and thumb. He gives you a cheeky grin as he sits back down. With the packet hanging from his teeth he pulls you back onto his lap. Now that he's closer you can read the packet. Your face blooms red at the realization of what it is. You stand for a moment to pull down your pants and underwear while he does the same. When you look back up at him he's slipping on the condom. He's a good size and you can only think of how he'll feel opening you up.

You straddle him but stay on your knees hovering over him. You can feel your juices threatening to drip on him as you kiss him again. He moans as you take your turn kissing his neck. His hips suddenly buck upwards nudging your petals. You can feel a bit of your juices connect with his tip and pull away in a thin clear strand. The sensation is a bit strange but you continue your previous ministrations. Eventually you can't help yourself and you slowly lower down. His tip aided by your slick splits your folds open instantly. With one hand you rub him between your folds covering the condom in your slick. You lean your forehead against his and line him up with your entrance. Gently you push down and his tip slips inside making you shiver. His hands grip the couch cushions as he tries his hardest not to thrust up into you. You moan and whimper as he stretches you. He hisses and groans as you lower even further onto him. When you're fully seated on him he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. You both catch your breath for a moment before you feel him move his hips.

In this position he can't quite seem to get enough leverage or room to thrust into you so surprising you with his strength he stands up holding you. He walks to the kitchen counter and takes a towel from the drawer laying it on the counter. He lifts you up just enough to set you on the towel his hips still flush with yours. With the new position he leans over you hands on either side of you. He pulls out and plunges back in one time making you moan. He grins down at you liking the reaction he received. He starts a slow pace and you bury your face in his neck as you mewl and moan for him. Soon he quickens his pace and his own moans make you twitch around him. You call his name earning a growl from deep in his chest. The sound makes you squeeze around him and a choked sound from him follows. His thrusts get sharper and he let's grunts and growls flow from his lips. He suddenly slips both of your legs into the crooks of his elbows. The move basically folding you in half with his hands moving behind your back and locking on your shoulders. In a sudden show of pure strength he lifts you up in that position and thrusts into you harder. He snorts with the exertion and all you can do is try to bear the extreme pleasure he's giving you.

You feel the coil in you tighten as you quickly get closer to the edge. He can feel you getting closer and he continues his pace chasing your release. "C'mon baby let go." He kisses you as your coil snaps your juices cover his crotch but he could care less as he chases his own high. Just a few seconds after you he releases, pumping the condom full. He let's out a strangled growl at the intense feeling. After a few seconds he let's you wrap your legs around his waist again and sets you back on the towel. He leans on his elbows panting heavily. You're both drained of energy but after a minute he lifts you back up and takes you to his bedroom. After he cleans you both up with a wet washcloth he snuggles into bed next to you. You roll on top of him and get comfortable with your ear over his heart. "Love you Matt." "Love you too y/n." You both drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project! 

________________________________________

Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.    

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries. 

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?” 

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.” 

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way. 

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” 

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.  

 As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.  

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.” 

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.” 

“But I didn’t.” 

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

“Bec-” 

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip. 

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier 

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.  

“Tired.” 

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon. 

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.  

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.  

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”  

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away. 

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.” 

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

  While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full. 

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.  

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly. 

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it. 

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man. 

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation. 

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca. 

 *

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over. 

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later. 

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.” 

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears. 

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.    

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed. 

“Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?” 

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.” 

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?” 

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.” 

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her. 

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.” 

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused. 

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!” 

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.” 

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter. 

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.” 

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.  

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully. 

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-” 

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended; 

“Can you stop.” 

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -” 

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.  

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?” 

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures. 

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.” 

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown. 

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek. 

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms. 

Ethan waited. 

And waited. 

Frozen in place until she said something, anything. 

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest. 

He could do what’s right. 

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins. 

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life. 

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her. 

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.  

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.  

It didn’t - 

“I want to be with you.” 

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure. 

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff. 

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff, 

“You sure about that?” 

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”  

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth. 

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.” 

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight. 

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay. 

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head. 

And then she murmured;  

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.” 

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-” 

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.” 

He was listening. He was guilty and listening. 

“I want you, Ethan.” 

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?  

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”  

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.  

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.” 

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.  

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.” 

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in. 

“Okay,” was all he said.  

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical. 

Becca rose a brow. 

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze. 

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.” 

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter. 

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.” 

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it? 

“Can we not think about this right now.” 

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded. 

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.  

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead. 

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder. 

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost. 

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew. 

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate. 

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know. 

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her. 

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.  

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again. 

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in. 

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away. 

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. 

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got. 

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew. 

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday. 

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away. 

________________________________________

A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

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[imaginethatneathuh]

The Chariot: Technical Boy - American Gods

Technical Boy x partner!reader, romantic

Technical Boy loves you and needs to hear your voice. You think you've lost him when he doesn't come home for months.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop.

TW/CW: Perceived death, fear, loss.

Word count: 1.7+ K

•

The young god sat on the steps of Xie Comm. His phone turnt on, displaying your number in his contact list. He hovered over the call button.

It had been a week since you had talked to each other. He’d been ignoring you and when you brought it up, he snapped. He'll admit, he shouldn't have, but World had been pressuring him and the war was just fucking everything up. Before Wednesday decided on war, the tech god already had a strained relationship with World. After, it only got worse and that did nothing to help your relationship.

Technical Boy pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear. He needed to hear your voice, even if you were still rightly upset.

It rang. Once, twice, thrice. You didn't pick up.

At home, you were playing music on the telly and cooking. The phone rang in the living room, but you didn't hear it.

"If it isn't important, go away. If you're T or an employer, leave a voicemail."

He chuckled.

It wasn't you, just a recording, but it was enough to give him a little morale boost.

"Y/N, hey. It's me, um, T. I wanted to say I'm sorry for snapping at you and ignoring you. It was a dick move. I love you, baby. A lot. I, uh, I need you to know that. If I'm still around by the end of this, I'm gonna come home to you. I'll bring you your favourites and we can do whatever you want. If I'm not there by 9, tonight, I'm sorry. I love you. *chuckles* I haven't said that enough but I really do. You're my heart. You keep me sane and I love you for that. I'm confident I'll see you tonight and when I do, I'll apologize properly."

He hung up, breathing heavily.

He would see you tonight. He would apologize. He would tell you to your face how much he loved you.

Putting his phone away, Technical Boy looked at the infinity symbol-shaped behind him and sighed.

He would come back to you.

•

Panting heavily, the god took a moment to catch his breath. His back was pressed against the cold wall, eyes closed. The soft buzzing of his phone in his pocket pulled him out of his head. Quietly, he prayed it wasn't New Media calling to taunt him about his failure.

When he pulled it out, he stared.

It was you. You were calling him back.

He answered and listened for you.

"Hey, T? Are you there?" You asked.

After he regained his composure, he smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here."

"Love, are you okay? You sound out of breath. And your voicemail- It scared me. Is everything okay?"

"I love you." It's all he could think to say. He needed you to know that more than anything else.

"I know, love. You made that pretty clear in your voicemail," you said, picking at your lips. "I love you, too. But, are you okay?"

"I don't know if I'm going to make it home to you. I’m sorry," he mumbled. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A flash of New Media. "I've got to go, baby. I love you so much. No matter what happens, I always will."

"I love you, too. But-"

Not allowing you to finish, he hung up and started running again.

He had to get away from World and New Media. He had to get away from this building. And, most importantly, he had to get home to you.

But, as soon as he saw that box next to the stairs, he knew he wasn't going to make it back.

His last conscious thought was of you. It was of knowing you would be up late, waiting for him, terrified for him. It was of your tears and mourning. It was of you, eventually, knowing he wasn’t coming back and that you lost him and he lost you.

•

You stayed quiet, your phone still pressed to your ear.

He hung up on you. If you weren't so worried about him, you'd be mad.

Over the several years you'd been together, he only hung up when it was important or he was pissed. The fear in his voice, the heavy breathing, the way he spoke and what he spoke about. Whatever World had done was bad. Or maybe it was what he was going to do. Either way, you couldn't help but feel dread, knowing that if -- no -- when Technical Boy came back, something would be wrong. Maybe he would be injured or afraid. Maybe he'd even be half-dead.

Quietly, you tucked your phone away and walked to the living room.

It was quiet now. You'd shut the music off so you could talk with your partner but that didn't take as long as you thought it would. It felt eerily silent like a phone line going dead. That dull, constant buzzing in your ear but instead of that, there was simply nothing. The silence was somehow worse.

The window that faced the street let light in and the heater was on, but it felt darker and colder than it should. You sat on the sofa under that window, staring out. You'd wait as long as you had to to see him again. He'd come home eventually. He had to.

•

Months after he was supposed to be back, you still waited for him. Always to 9, like clockwork. Sometimes, you'd wait longer. Hoping, praying, for your lost love to return. You didn't let it interfere with daily life, but the thought of him never left you.

Now, you laid on the sofa, the one under the window. It was almost 9. Almost time to go to bed. Almost another day without him. Something told you to stay a little longer tonight. That something had pestered you before, but now, it screamed.

Pushing up to sit, you laid your arms on the top of the sofa and laid your head on top of those.

The soft, orange lights of the lamp posts flickered before shutting off. Which was strange since it was almost nine at night without a sliver of the sun to be found.

You straightened, head tilting to the side.

Technical Boy crossed your mind. But you pushed the hope aside. It had been months of silence. If he was okay, he would have shown up far sooner. It was probably just a technical malfunction or something. Still, your mind wandered to him, to his smile and laugh, to his silly hair and eccentric clothes, to the way he held you and the way he'd snuggle up to you when he needed to, to the way you'd bicker about silliest things but always talk about the big ones.

The thoughts of your love hurt, crushing your heart as you remembered all the good, the bad, and the ugly of being with the tech god.

You hadn't noticed the tears streaming down your face until they fell almost all the way down. You wiped them away, sighing.

He was gone, likely for good, and you were finally weeping for him and what you had lost. After months, you'd realized he wasn't coming back to you. That he couldn't. That he was gone for now and forever.

•

Shutting the curtains, you wiped more tears away. The soft cloth of the sofa enticed you to stay. You didn't have the will to say no so you pulled the blanket from the top and wrapped it around yourself. In a way, it was like you were still waiting for him to come home.

Just as you'd gotten comfortable, a knock came to your door.

Your first thought was to ignore it. Whoever it was was probably a creep. Come on, who starts knocking at doors at 9 at night? Serial killers, that's who.

But, the person was insistent so much so that you tore away your blanket and got off the sofa.

"I'm fucking coming, alright. Jeez," you said, storming to your front door.

You threw it open, ready to give whoever it was a good, stern talking to. But, maybe you shouldn't have if it was a murderer.

All your anger dissipated at the sight of the knocker.

It was him. It was your Technical Boy.

•

You gawked before covering your mouth.

He smiled, pained. "Hey," he said.

You stepped out, not believing your eyes.

Was it really him? Was he here now? Was this really your Technical Boy?

He shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me this long to get back to you. I didn't mean--"

You cut him off with a tight hug, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

He froze in shock.

The god had expected many things. Yelling, hitting, you slamming the door in his face. But, he hadn't expected this. When he calculated the probability of various reactions, hugging was very low. A 0.82% chance, to be exact. It was higher than a kiss but still incredibly low.

Finally, he settled his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could. It was like he was afraid you'd slip from his grasp.

You breathed his scent in, a mix of his cologne and vape. Over the last while, you'd forgotten it. You'd forgotten a lot. Like how big he was, how soft his skin was, and how warm he was against you. You never wanted to forget any of that ever again.

Your own heart thudded in your chest.

This was real. He was real. But you had to make sure. Maybe you had fallen asleep and this was just a dream. A cruel, cruel dream.

You pulled away, tears falling.

"Hey," he whispered, brushing away your tears. "Please, don't do that. If you cry, I'm going to start crying."

You laughed and smiled at him.

It couldn't be a dream. Dreams never made sense. They were never accurate for you. But this, he was. Maybe his hair was shorter and his clothes screaming a little less, but it was him. It was your Technical Boy.

You reached for him, cupping his cheek. "T?" It came out like a sob.

His hand held yours as he nuzzled into it, kissing your palm. "It's me. I promise."

Overwhelmed with joy, you kissed him, placing your other hand on his other cheek. It's forcefulness left your lover stunned but he quickly reciprocated, bringing you closer.

You panted hard as you broke away, pressing your forehead against his.

"I love you," you said.

He grinned. "I love you, too."

[marveloussupernerd]

im going to come thru and request one of your holiday prompts!! please do jumin saying number twelve 💀💀 but like it’s the penthouse

Christmas Lights and Bruises - Jumin Han

This is from my Christmas prompt list , requests are currently open so feel free to request :)

Prompt: “I fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights”

Summary: Jumin really wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. If that meant he got a few bruises along the way... well... that was okay by him

FIRST OF ALL after a Google search: a fall from over 50 ft will almost def kill u and Jumin lives on the eighth floor at least (80 ft up min) so he would die. I’m not trying to kill him SO we’re just gonna say that the penthouse ceilings are high and he had to use a ladder to line the ceiling w lights

ANYWAYS ty for requesting bb I love you and literally everyone has requested seven for these prompts but you ? Just saying this is like everyone else erasure (no h8 to those requested seven tho :))

You were going to go for a nice day out while Jumin finished up some work at the home office. He didn’t have too too much, but he still sent you to the hairdressers because you were in need of a cut, and he wanted to get your nails done too while you were at it. You opted for the cut first.

Christmas was only in a few more weeks; you were so excited! This was your first Christmas with Jumin by your side (more notably as your HUSBAND by your side), so you wanted to make it special. The past few Christmases had been meh for you so you really wanted to make this one fun. You had already ordered his present and it was on its way. Soon you wanted to put the tree up too!

You hadn’t opted to get too too much off for your haircut, a little over an inch (2.5 cm) or so, but you were still excited to have it look all nice and fancy. Plus the hairdresser was always soothing. After she had washed your hair you made you way over to the seat to start the cut.

Not even half your head cut later and you were getting a phone call from one of the building’s security guards. He knew where you were at the moment so you figured it was important. You asked your hairstylist to wait a moment then picked up the call. “This is Mrs. Han.”

“I’m so glad I got a hold of you. Uh, your husband has had a fall...”

“A fall? Is he okay?” Your hairdresser raised her eyebrow.

“He refuses to lay down and rest. I swear I heard something crack so I called the doctor...” he sounded concerned.

“Alright. I’m on my way.” You took off the cape and stood up, hair still wet and half-cut. “I’ve got to go. Can we finish this later?”

With all the money she was getting paid? Of course she wouldn’t say no. She nodded and wished you the best. You flung on your heavy coat and headed out.

“Would you like me to send Driver Kim?” The guard asked.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You hightailed it to the penthouse. How did he fall!? He was supposed to be working. Your face was cold; it was below freezing out and your wet hair certainly wasn’t helping. Maybe you should have brought a scarf.

You rushed into the building, heading up to the penthouse floor and to the front door. The security guards were waiting for you. “Mrs Han.” They greeted you, standing at attention.

“Is he okay? Where is he?” You questioned.

“He’s likely at his desk right now, Ma’am. The doctor should be here in about 15 minutes.”

You rushed through the door, not bothering to take off your coat (you were cold enough already granted) and rushed to the office, knocking before opening the door immediately.

Jumin was at his desk, typing away at his computer. He looked up to you and smiled, then winced. “You’re home early.”

“Jumin!” You rushed by his side, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay? You had me worried.”

“Oh,” he waved his hand to disregard what had happened. “You heard about that. I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be strong around me,” you cupped his cheek in your hands. “Won’t you lay down until the doctor gets here?”

He sighed. “I suppose if you’d like me to.”

You grabbed his arm as he stood up, carefully guiding him to bed. “Would you care to tell me how you fell?”

“Well... I might as well since you’re about to find out anyways. I... fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights.” He sounded dejected. You helped sit him down gently in bed.

“The roof!? Jumin we’re on like the eighth floor!?” You were shouting. You were just so shocked.

“Oh... not the roof. The... ceiling? I tried to line the ceiling with Christmas lights for you in the living room. But... I fell off the ladder.” You pulled the blanket over him.

“Oh Baby,” you stroked some of the hair out of his face. “You didn’t have to put those up. We can pay someone to put those up.”

“But... I know how much you love Christmas and I wanted to make it extra special for you.”

“I know. I bet it looks great,” you kissed his cheek.

“Not really... the lights are hanging around only half lit up.

“Well I’m proud of you anyway. Now where does it hurt?”

He looked kind of uneasy, as though he still didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. He had a tight frown on his face. “My... chest. I don’t know. Right here?” He pointed under his chest. Men were never very good at injuries, huh.

“Your ribs? We’ll have the doctor check them out. You might have a concussion too if you hit your head.” You gently pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re so sweet. But please, let me help next time. You had me worried sick.” Your eyes were glossy. What a stupid thing to cry over. But you were quite upset. What if he had gotten severely hurt? What if he had actually tried to do this outside?

“Okay. But I’m okay, alright?” He reached forward slightly to unbutton your winter coat, pushing it off your shoulders. “Oh my,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh my what?” Your voice was just as soft to match his.

“Your hair... has looked better. I thought I had paid to have it done.” His hand reached out to touch your hair, a crunching sound being made as soon as he touched it.

“Oh, it probably froze. I, uh, left as soon as I heard. She only had time to cut half of it. But, I’ll get it done later! So long as you’re okay. You know, I can actually just have them come here so I can stay with you if you-“

“Honey,” he cut you off. You looked back at him. He had a warm smile on his face. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I’ll make you some tea while we wait for the doctor. He should be here any minute though.” You stood from your spot, but Jumin caught your wrist before you could leave.

“Stay here with me. Call the Chef to make tea or something. I just... want you here for now.” His eyes looked sleepy. How could you refuse? You sat down on the side of the bed, shifting so you could stroke his hair. He shut his eyes as you waited.

The doctor said he had bruised a rib. He probably also had a minor concussion and should rest as much as possible and avoid stressful work. He clearly didn’t know Jumin. Still, you’d try your best to keep him resting for the next few days. He lived and worked in such a fast-paced environment that the doctor worried any work could set him off and make his conditions worse.

“Watch Christmas movies with me?” You asked, after the doctor had left. You had put your hair up so that you didn’t have to look at it, half-cut, every time you passed a mirror. If the hairdresser didn’t get here soon you’d cut it yourself. It was that annoying. Still, for the sake of Jumin, you tried to ignore it.

“I haven’t seen very many,” he commented, eyes locked on you as you climbed into bed, pajamas and fuzzy socks on. “Christmas movies.”

“For real!?” You took the remote from the bedside table and climbed under the blankets, scooting closer to your husband. He was on his back, head propped up by pillows. He wanted to switch to his side but you wouldn’t let him. It would hurt!

He pulled you closer by the waist until your head was resting on his shoulder. “For real. I’ve only seen... hm... A Christmas Carol. It’s A Wonderful Life...”

“That’s all!?” You moved yourself off his shoulder to look at him in disbelief.

“And Rudolph.”

“That’s still all!? We have so many to watch.”

“But my work-“

“Nope. I’ll arrange for someone else to do it. We have to watch Elf. And The Santa Clause. And Frosty the Snowman. And The Polar Express! And.. so many more!” You snuggled back next to him, using the remote to pull up the first Christmas movie of the night.

He sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I cannot believe you rolled your eyes!” You teased. “What have you done for 27 years without me!? Without these movies!?” He flinched. “Oh! I’m sorry,” you pushed away from him slightly. “I hadn’t realized I was hurting you.”

“No, come back.” He was POUTING. Pouting. You had never seen him pout like that. You didn’t move though. “I don’t mind it.”

You huffed at him.

“Okay.” He scooted closer to you. “If you get on the other side we can cuddle and it won’t hurt. Because it’s my good side. How about that?”

You climbed over him, sitting on his other side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Better?”

“Better,” he sighed. He grabbed your hand in his. “Now start the movie. It seems I have a lot to catch up on!”

With all the movies and excitement and you, how could he possibly go back to work?

Bye writing for Jumin is my element I was so happy writing this. Ik I write for him a lot and if I write for any character too much it’s like blah. But he rlly is my favorite character :) I love him

[akindofmagictoo]

20 first lines tag game

this comes from @zmlorenz and also I think @amillionwips — thank you both!

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 stories just list them all). see if there are any patterns. choose your favourite opening line. then tag others. 

(I will tag @writingbyjillian @pamsdrabbles @sleepyowlwrites and anyone who wants to play!) 

Hurricane 

Tempest stilled her bouncing leg, eyeing her sleeping husband. Had she woken him? She took a careful breath and didn’t let it go until he snored and rolled over, pulling the covers tighter around himself. Still she waited. One breath. Two breaths. When he still didn’t move, she stood up and grabbed her coat and sword belt, not even bothering to put them on. Because she had to leave, and she had to leave today. 

Theo x Aella Little Mermaid AU

Water closed over his head, tugged at his clothes. Tugged him down… down… 

He wanted to cry out for help, but the water filled up his mouth before he could make a sound. Cold stole into his limbs, heavy and dark, weighing him down. 

His chest ached, searching for air. Deep, cold darkness wrapped around him. Dragging, pressing, pulling down.

Down… down… down… 

When he’d hit the water, he’d panicked. That was gone now. All he felt was the cold, the deep dark cold.

a random post-canon Theo x Aella oneshot 

Thunder rumbled overhead, blending into the drumming of the rain on the roof. Aella tucked her blanket more tightly around herself, but it did no good. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t keep her mind off the locked front door, Alanna’s instruction to stay inside. It felt too much like other locked doors. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back there again and—

No. Sitting in this bed alone with her thoughts would do no good.

a post-canon Theo x Aella oneshot (sort of the former version of the one above)

“Read the mermaid one again.” Aella snuggled against Theo, pressed up between him and the arm of the big old armchair. 

a Theo x Aella modern AU 

Even with a map on his phone, Theo was impressed he’d made it to the small cafe on the main street. True, it was the main street, but his new house wasn’t, and directions weren’t his forte. Given how recently he’d moved, it was at least understandable. 

The cafe was small, but its list of drink options was larger than he’d expected. But it included several types of tea, so he ordered a familiar English Breakfast and sat down at the nearest table.

post-canon oneshot of the Hurricane women play ‘theatre’ 

“So, who’s up next?” Aria stretched out in her hammock. “As much as I enjoyed being the defence lawyer, I think it’s someone else’s turn.” 

“I’ll play the accused. I want to try my daring escape again,” Aella volunteered, sitting up. 

Theo grinned. “Because you got caught last time?” 

a crossover royalty AU with another project (Labyrinth) 

(this isn’t the first line, but it’s the first lines where Theo appears. also, you would be correct if you assume that the Spanish princess is not Aella. that is the complication.) 

“Spain confirmed the marriage alliance,” said Jared. “We still have to confirm it one last time, though.” 

Theo glanced up at his dad. “Hardly surprising, really. They offered it, after all.” 

Jared nodded. “Are you still alright with this? We can turn them down now, if you want.” 

“My calendar is free,” said Theo, straight-faced. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got my eye on someone else or whatever. Just as long as I’m not expected to actually have a romantic relationship with the Spanish princess.” 

the below are all fanfictions. [ps my AO3 is @/ sidebysidewithafriend go check it out if any of these fics interest you] 

Shadow and Cottontail (Harry Potter: Marauders (OC insert)) 

(this is co-written, I’m posting the first part that I wrote) 

“Is there mail today?” Kai Lupin jumped the last step down to the dining room. This was the same question she’d been asking for five days, but she asked anyway. 

Her mother Hope was about to answer when an owl swooped through the open window, a parchment envelope clutched in its beak. 

“I think the answer is yes,” said Remus, descending the stairs behind her with a little more care than she’d taken. Kai rolled her eyes and crossed the room to see what the envelope contained.

Hope was already taking it from the owl. “It’s from Hogwarts,” Hope said, and Kai’s heart leapt, only to be dashed by her mother’s next words. “But there’s only one envelope. It’s addressed to you, Kai.” 

Told You You’d Kill It (Harry Potter: Romione) 

“Ugh.” Ron shoved his books to one side and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all different directions. Hermione hid a smile as Ron drew his hands inside his jumper sleeves.

Through a yawn, he continued, “I’m done. I’m so tired.” Probably from his basketball training, but schoolwork was also a struggle for him, she knew. And they’d been studying in the library for several hours now. No wonder he was exhausted.

Thank You For Saving My Cat (Harry Potter: Jily) 

Lily pushed herself up to a sitting position and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least she was out. She turned back to the house, watching the orange flames that danced over the structure with her heart in her throat. Was it her imagination, or were they growing smaller?

Most of her stuff could be replaced. But she hoped nonetheless that she wouldn’t have to.

Then she remembered the one thing she’d left behind and couldn’t replace. Crookshanks. She stumbled to her feet. Legs shaking under her, she ran to the nearest firefighter and grabbed their sleeve. The firefighter gear covered its occupant’s face, but the voice sounded male. “Are you alright?” He took her arm gently, steadying her.

3AM (Harry Potter: Wolfstar) 

The beeping of the fire alarm filtered into Sirius’s sleeping brain, burrowing in until he couldn’t help but wake up. At which point he groaned and wrapped his pillow around his head, trying to block out the noise.

But this was a fire alarm, so really he had to get up. Grudgingly, he removed the pillow from his head and fumbled for his phone to check the time. The light from the screen was blinding in the darkness of his dorm room, but after a moment his eyes adjusted to see that it was 3:07 AM.

Give Him Back to Me (The Great Library: Wolfe x Santi) 

Day 1

“Nic?” Wolfe half-rose from the bed at the sound of knocking, leaving his Codex open beside him. Something was off, though. Nic wouldn’t knock. He had a key. Besides, Nic was away in Belgium, training a new company. He wasn’t due back for another day or two, and that was assuming everything went to plan.

Nevertheless, when the knock came again he got to his feet and headed for the door.

Death Is Not Fair (Shadowhunters: (very angsty) Malec) 

It wasn’t fair. Then again, life wasn’t fair.

And neither was death.

It shouldn’t have happened. It should have been a simple mission. The scans and all the reports had said there was just one demon in the area. It was a larger, stronger demon, and would’ve put up a good fight, but it was still practically nothing to a Shadowhunter like Alec.

Untitled (Shadowhunters: Sizzy) (unfinished and un-posted) 

Izzy was swearing off dating. She’d kind of thought about it before, but hearing about the amount of drama in Jace’s love life right now cemented the idea firmly in her mind. No more dating. Between that and the mess Alec had gone through a couple of months ago, she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of that. Not to mention that of all the boys she’d dated, none of the relationships had really been right. Did she believe in The One? She wasn’t sure. But none of her boyfriends had been it, that was for sure. So no more dating for her. She was here to study forensic chemistry, after all, and surely it was better to concentrate on that.

Moving Day (Riordanverse: Blitzstone) 

Last? signed Hearth. 

Blitz brushed a speck of dust from the shoulder of his shirt, studying Hearth’s face. He knew exactly how many boxes were left to move, and it was more than zero, but the elf was looking paler than usual. If that was possible. As he watched, Hearth swayed a little and put a hand on the wall for support. “No. But I’ll get the rest. You need a break.”

Untitled quarantine AU (Riordanverse: Percabeth) (unfinished and un-posted)

“Thanks for letting me stay over to finish this project,” said Annabeth, setting the last piece on the model Coliseum she’d made. They’d done most of it last night, and she was just adding the finishing touches now. Although that had been before school had been shut down; they’d been notified the night before, but since she was here she’d been determined to finish it.  

Untitled (The Hobbit) (I have a “better version of Tauriel’s arc” thing in the works, and this is an accompanying oneshot of how the Durins died in this version) (un-posted) 

“Where is he? It looks empty. I think Azog has fled.” Fili glanced around nervously, his breath steaming in the icy air. 

“I don’t think so,” said Thorin. 

Footsteps sounded on the ice, echoing in all directions. It was impossible to know their source. 

“We’ve got company,” Thorin growled. 

Kili readied his sword. 

This was practically everyday for them at this point. Every motion of his sword, every footstep, every bit of it was familiar. Fili hardly had to think. His sword flashed in the faint light. Droplets of blood and crystals of ice spattered his exposed skin, hot and cold. He was at home here; he might not have been on the ice before, but with a sword in his hand and Kili and Thorin at his back, he was content.

this is VERY long. if you read to here, thank you! and maybe consider reading some of them in full on my AO3? 

[twdeadfanfic]

Warm Pt.4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary:  After an accident while Y/N is out in the woods looking for Sophia with Daryl, she ends up bedridden at the Greene’s farm. By luck, or rather bad luck, just the next day Daryl ends up it that same bed, badly hurt. And that’s how it all beings. Based on a request asking for a reader who’s always cold, trying to steal Daryl’s warmth.

Chapter 4/5

Updated on Wednesdays.

.....................................................................................................................

You were in a warehouse, big and impossible to warm, safe but oh so, so cold. Autumn was gone, you thought, winter arriving and you were frozen every hour of every day, and you were sure that the only thing that had prevented you from freezing at night was Daryl’s warmth next to you. You kept holding him at night, getting more daring the colder you were, snuggling to his back and hiding your face on his jacket, greedily soaking his warmth, scent and comfort. Daryl didn’t hold you, not really, but sometimes you woke up to his arm thrown over you, heavy and warm, and you’d stay still, pretending to be asleep, to keep him there a little longer. It was silly, but you couldn’t help it.

You shivered as you lied down on the hard, cold concrete, despite the sleeping bag, wondering what would be worse, this damn concrete or the ground outside. You couldn’t wait to have Daryl and his warmth next to you, shivering as you were, your teeth chattering. This must be one of the coldest nights, or at least you were frozen. You smiled, relieved, when you felt Daryl finally settling next to you under the blanket.

“I’m cold,” you whined quietly.

“I know,” Daryl rasped back.

Before you could move and turn to hug him, you felt him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around you, hugging you instead. You weren’t expecting that, and you almost gasped in surprise. Daryl didn’t say anything, just held you to him, his warmth enveloping you. It felt so good. Maybe he had thought this time that you were actually going to freeze? Did you look that cold?

If all it took for Daryl to hold you like that was lie down shivering and freezing, you could have done it way earlier. It felt so good, as if for the first time the cold were almost, almost, leaving your bones, a sense of comfort and safety filling you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and you weren’t surprised when Daryl didn’t say anything back. You were surprised, though, when you couldn’t help yourself from snuggling back to him and Daryl didn’t only not tense up, but he actually held you closer. A nice surprise, indeed.

*

You lost the warehouse in a week, and anyway, you would have needed to go looking for more supplies soon, especially gas. You all drove to a gas station located on the map without much hope, only to find walkers there. Rick drove over the ones outside, crushing them…safer than by knife, but that car was going to need a good wash. It was disgusting.

As you had feared, there was no gas left, but Rick decided you’d all stop there for the night, and for that, you needed to clear the walkers inside. Rick knocked on the window glass and a group of walkers began pushing at it. One had the uniform of the gas station, and the others you guessed were people who had taken refuge inside. It hadn’t turned out that well for them…you decided not to think about it.

You went with the group to clear the place, knife ready. Rick opened the door and the few walkers tumbled out, but between you all, you managed to put them down without a problem. While you and the others cleaned the place and got it ready for the night, Daryl decided to keep riding alone, see if he could find something useful, and then come back. It worried you, but you knew he’d do it anyway.

You waited for him to come back, worrying, and when you heard the bike you walked out of the gas station, relieved to see him back safe. He stopped the bike next to Rick, who was taking watch, and you saw them talking. Then he realized you were there and he made his way to you.

“You’re always complaining you’re cold, what you doing out here?”

“I wanted to see that you were okay…” You said shyly, and Daryl glanced at you but didn’t say anything. You saw him rubbing his fingers as you both walked inside, and you knew they were probably cold, with his fingerless gloves. Daryl never said anything or complained about being cold, but you knew he was, sometimes, despite feeling so warm when he lied next to you, you had felt how cold his hands were most of the nights too, until you warmed each other.

After that first night, you had thought that Daryl hugging you to sleep had been a one-night thing, but much to your surprise, and delight, it wasn’t. Most of the nights it was you who would wrap your arms around him and snuggle to his back, but others, Daryl would hold you to him while you slept. You loved both, hold him and being held, maybe even too much...

“There’s a group of cars blocking the road down there,” Daryl explained when you both sat down over some fabric that you had thrown on the concrete. “We could get something from the cars, at least the gas. We have to clear the walkers first.”

“Too many?”

“Not enough, we have to do it.”

“Okay.” You trusted Daryl’s judgment. You looked at him shyly, biting your lip. “Can you…can you give me your hand?” Daryl frowned at you in surprise. “Just do it.” He hesitantly reached out his hand for you, awkward and looking at you with mistrust, and you almost snorted, wondering what did he think you might do. You were wearing wool gloves and you took his hand in yours, keeping it between yours to try and warm his fingers. Daryl didn’t say anything, and once that hand was a little bit warmer, you did the same with the other. “You freeze in that bike.”

“Nah, I’m used to it.”

“Still, you need to find yourself something more than that jacket, with the cold wind hitting you and all, it can’t be good.”

“Told you I’m used to it, it ain’t that bad.” Daryl rolled his eyes. “I ain’t you, I ain’t cold all the time.” You knew by the look in his eyes and his tone, that he was joking. It had taken you a while, but by now you could more or less read him. You scoffed and pushed him softly, making him snort.

You looked down and tried to push through your shyness. “I could go with you…if you want…maybe…so your back would be less cold…”

“Nah, you’d get cold.”

“Okay…” You bit your lip. “In spring, maybe? It’s just…I’ve never been on a bike before…”

“Okay.” Daryl shrugged, it didn’t seem to be a big deal for him, and you smiled, relieved.

That night, when you wrapped your arms around Daryl, pressing yourself against his warm back, your hand searched for his shyly under the blanket, and you placed your hand on top of his when you found it, not really daring to hold it. He didn’t seem to mind, keeping his hand under yours, and when you woke up that morning, a silly smile spread across your face when you noticed your fingers laced.

*

You had thought you couldn’t be colder, but you had been wrong. You were shivering hard as you walked through the woods. You had lost the place you had been staying in, but Daryl had found a cabin while hunting, but you couldn’t reach it by car, not even with his bike, and so now you were all walking to it, carrying your stuff, after having left your vehicles as best hidden as possible.

You were tired, carrying several bags with stuff, and feeling stabs in your feet as you walked, and you were so, so cold, you couldn’t stop shivering. You were getting behind both because you were tired and shivering too bad to walk fast, and because Daryl was walking at the rear of the group, making sure no walker came to you from behind.

“You okay?” He asked as he approached you.

“Yeah…just cold, the usual.” You tried to give him a smile. You were embarrassed of yourself, Lori was pregnant, cold, underfeed, walking non stop too, and she didn’t complain. You shouldn’t either, you had to be stronger.

Daryl gave you a worried look but he nodded, reaching to squeeze your shoulder. “Come on, it’s not far now.”

Once you were in the cabin, you distanced yourself from the others, leaving the main room where they were making a fire to go to one of the rooms. Your feet were feeling worse. You were freezing cold but they felt like burning, your toes itching to the point of making you cry. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone else, you wanted to be strong.

You sat down on the floor and took off your boots and socks to inspect your feet. Your toes were swollen and red. Chilblains. You had gotten damn chilblains just by walking out in the cold for a while…you felt even weaker. They itched and burned, and it didn’t stop when you scratched them, it just made it worse. You couldn’t stop your tears, feeling weak, and cold, and hurting.

“The hell you doing here?” Came Daryl’s voice before you could react or even put your socks back on, and you looked at him with wet eyes as a deer caught on lights. “What are you crying about?!”

“Nothing.” You rushed to put your socks, but Daryl had already realized that you were barefoot and he knelt next to you, pushing your hands away to inspect your foot, noticing the chilblains.

“Hurt?” He asked and you were going to say no, but you found yourself nodding. He sat down next to you, placing your feet on his lap, and then he was rubbing his hands together to warm them before taking one of your feet between his hands, and he began massaging your hurting toes, trying to warm them up.

“You don’t have too…” You tried to pull your foot away, embarrassed and feeling weak and like a bother. Daryl ignored you, though, and he didn’t let you pull away. Once he finished rubbing your toes, he put your socks and boots back, tying them loosely.

“Come on, you gotta sit next to the fire.”

You let him pull you up and went to sit down with him and the others around the fire. Some of them looked at you, but they didn’t ask anything, much to your relief. Daryl rummaged through one of the bags, taking out your old coat, and after taking off your shoes, he wrapped the coat around your feet to keep them warm.

“Chilblains?” Hershel guessed and you nodded, embarrassed, but he gave you a kind smile as he passed you a cup with hot soup. “They’ll go away by themselves in a couple of weeks, just keep your feet warm like that, near the fire.”

“Thanks…” You murmured, still embarrassed. Daryl came to sit down next to you, with a blanket this time, that he wrapped around you, and so you whispered another thanks to him before lifting part of the blanket so you could cover Daryl with it too.

That night, you couldn’t be more grateful of having Daryl’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you to him through the cold night. Your toes burned and the itching was maddening, but what made you tear up was how useless and weak you felt. You tried to keep it quiet, but Daryl noticed your sniff.

“Are you cold?”

You shock your head. You were chill, sure, you always were, but Daryl’s body protected you from the worse, you weren’t as cold when you were cuddled with him. “You’re warm.”

“Does it hurt?”

During all your nights sleeping snuggled together, you had never faced him, but you turned onto his arms now, holding to his jacket, biting your lip as you tried not to cry more. “I’m useless.”

“What you mean?”

“I got chilblains just from walking through the woods…I’m weak…” You whimpered, trying to keep it quiet so no one else would hear you.

Daryl scoffed. “I got chilblains one winter while hunting, years ago.”

“Yeah?” You looked at him and Daryl nodded, genuine. He was the opposite of weak, though. “But… I’m always cold, always. Everyone keeps going, they have their coats and blankets, just like me, but I’m always shivering, always freezing…”

“It ain’t your fault that you’re cold.” Daryl frowned at you.

“I’m not cut for this world…like, it feels I might just freeze to death one night. Look at Lori, she’s pregnant and she barely eats, or sleeps, she’s cold too, but she doesn’t complain, she keeps going, while I drag you to sleep with me every night, I’m pretty sure I’d have frozen to death by now without you.” Maybe it was impossible, but you felt like so. “I’m weak and useless, and-”

“Shut up with it already,” Daryl snapped, cutting your rant, and you flinched a bit, realizing that you were probably annoying him with your venting. “Sleep,” he said, gentler this time. “Come on. You ain’t useless, or weak, or all that shit. You just get cold easy. Ain’t the same.”

You looked at his face, trying to see if he meant it. He was chewing on his lip and looking away from you, but he seemed genuine, and you decided to believe him. Instead of turning your back to him, you snuggled further into him, wrapping your arms around him and hiding your face on his chest. You were relieved when he didn’t push you away, in fact, he held you tighter, placing his hand at the back of your head.

*

“I don’t know, it’s strange to see you with so much color…”

A few weeks had passed since you got chilblains and they were gone now, but not the cold. Daryl had gotten himself a poncho, finally something else that he could wear on his bike besides his jacket and vest, and you were teasing him a bit about it.

“You think I care how I look?” Daryl grumbled and you couldn’t help your chuckle.

“I’m kidding! I like it, I like how it looks.” You ran a hand over the material. “It feels good, warm.”

“You ain’t stealing it from me,” Daryl said, and you were glad he’d relaxed enough to joke.

“Don’t need it, I have this super nice coat that you got me.” You grinned and Daryl blushed, looking away from you. “But that poncho is pretty cool too.”

That evening, you sat down with Daryl at the outside of the house where you were staying now, keeping watch. Without a word, Daryl took off the poncho and wrapped it around you.

“I thought you said I wasn’t stealing it?” You teased and Daryl shrugged without looking at you. You unwrapped the poncho and placed it both over Daryl and you like a blanket. “See, enough for us both, this poncho was a good find.” He was still saying nothing, and you rested your head on his shoulder, thinking a way of getting him to talk to you. “How did you tell me that you learn to hotwire?”

*

You couldn’t believe it, but it seemed like the cold was finally going away. The days were less and less cold, and you couldn’t be more glad about it. Especially since Daryl didn’t stop sleeping next to you anyway.

You woke up now to not only his arm thrown over you but also his leg, and you giggled. Last night you had been tossing and turning,  too worried about Lori and how big she was getting without a safe enough place to deliver the baby, and you had been unable to sleep. At some point, Daryl had grumbled to you to stop it and sleep, and he had thrown his leg over yours, pinning you and keeping you still, and also making you giggle.

You realized he was awake too when you felt him pulling away from you, and you turned to look at him. “Where’re you going?”

“Hunting.”

“Okay…”

Later, you walked out of the cabin where you were staying now. The day was sunny and you decided to go looking for Daryl, hoping not to bother him, he had had time to hunt something by now and he should come back and eat something. You usually didn’t go out alone, no one of you did, but by now you knew the place where Daryl usually hunted, he had taken you with him before, it was near the cabin and seemed safe enough.

You took your knife and a gun, and walked into the woods. You hadn’t walked far when you noticed two dead walkers on the ground. You let out a sad sigh…you had been sheltered from walkers there for a week, but maybe they were getting closer again and you would need to leave the nice cabin…

You knew by the kind of would on their heads that Daryl had put down those walkers with his crossbow. Some blood on the ground caught your attention, followed by a trail of blood. It didn’t come from the walkers, and the thought of Daryl being hurt and bleeding came to your mind…maybe…maybe even bitten? No, he was too good of a fighter, he wouldn’t get hurt by two walkers…would he?

“Daryl?” You called for him, and there was no answer. “Daryl?” You couldn’t shake the fear and you began following the trail of blood, getting more and more scared as Daryl didn’t answer your calls. Was he really hurt? Was he bleeding…he couldn’t be badly hurt, he couldn’t be bitten, he couldn’t. You were so scared, all the worse scenarios running through your head without you being able to stop it, that when you actually heard his voice, it took you by surprise.

“What? You trying to scare all the game or to bring all the walkers to you?” There he was, safe and sound, skinning a deer near the creek. You were so relieved that you teared up, it embarrassed you but you couldn’t help it. Daryl noticed, getting up and looking at you in shock and worry, making his way to you. “What?”

Daryl was next to you and you couldn’t help yourself from wrapping your arms around him to hug him, even if you felt more and more embarrassed, but you had been so scared seeing that blood and knowing that Daryl was alone.

“I…I…” You didn’t know how to explain it, the way you had freaked out. “I saw the walkers…and then the blood…and I called for you…and I though…I don’t know…I thought maybe you were hurt…I got scared…I…” You were feeling so stupid, you pulled away from Daryl, looking at the ground.

“I hunt the deer and then saw those two walkers coming for it, so I put them down, then I dragged the deer here to get it ready.” It made sense, he got his kills ready away from the cabin and near the creek when he was able to. You just felt more and more silly.

“I’m sorry…” You murmured.

“For what?” Daryl asked and you just shrugged. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, before he spoke again. “Come on, it was time you learned how to get deer ready.”

You spent the next hour doing so, watching at Daryl in order to learn and also doing what he instructed you, feeling grateful that he was taking your mind off your embarrassment while also teaching you something useful. It was disgusting and hard, but you knew you should learn every bit of useful information that Daryl taught you.

“We look disgusting…” You said once you finished, making your way to the creek and submerging your hands in the water. “Shit, it’s freezing!”

“It was worse in winter.” Daryl was following your example and you nodded. In all honesty, no one of you all had washed much during winter, but the couple of times you had tried on a creek, you had been totally sure you’d die after it, no matter you turned yourself into a cocoon of blankets and sat next to the fire while Daryl held you. Sure, the water had been colder then, but it was cold now too.

Daryl was unbuttoning his bloodied shirt, probably to wash himself better, and you noticed he seemed awkward, so you looked away, turning your back to him. By this point, you all had changed clothes in front of everyone else, living in such close quarters, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still awkward. You knew Daryl was uncomfortable about everyone seeing the scars on his back because he didn’t want people asking about them. You understood.

You heard him splashing water over himself, and you decided to do the same. It was less awkward to wash yourself when it was only Daryl there, and you would never go alone without someone to watch your back in case walkers came. You took off your shirt, shivering a bit as you stood there in your sports bra, and then you tugged off your trousers too before kneeling on the river bank.

“I haven’t shaved my legs in…I don’t even know.” You commented.

“And what you care?”

“I don’t…do you?” You didn’t know why you said that.

“Why’d you care if I cared?” Daryl looked at you briefly, seeming confused, before averting his eyes again.

“I wouldn’t…” You shrugged, defensive.

“I don’t give a shit…” Daryl still sounded like he didn’t know why you were making a big deal of something like that, and you chuckled.

“Yeah, you know what? Me neither. Good thing about the apocalypse? I’m not shaving ever again.” Must be the only good thing about the apocalypse, that, and meeting Daryl.

You stared at the water, trying to summon enough will power to actually begin washing yourself, when suddenly the freezing water was splashing you.

“Shit, fuck, no!” You yelped, glaring at Daryl, who was chuckling, looking at you and smirking. “Dixon, I’m killing you right now!”

“Nah you ain’t, I ain’t scared of you.”

You splashed him back, but he didn’t even flinch, as if he weren’t bothered by the cold, and he just splashed you again, making you yelp and crawl away, glaring at him.

“I’m so killing you right now, if the others ask I’ll tell them it was the walkers!”

.............................................................................................................................

We got some real snuggles! I hope you enjoyed it! I wrote this one or two weeks after I had the knee surgery with the recovery that went wrong, I was always hurting and I couldn’t move, my dog died when I came back from the hospital and I couldn’t even get up from the sofa to see her, I was very cold and I got chilblains due to it and to the blood not flowing properly to my geet since I couldn’t move. I was miserable and I’d have love to have Daryl like this and snuggles. Alas, I got none.

Please, if you enjoyed this and you have a moment, let me know your thoughts.

As always, excuse my english, is not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[justadreamforus]

Can I ask for lwj/wwx with abo pregnancy smut? Hehe thank you so much!

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you meant them having sex while Weiying is pregnant, or if you meant them having sex and Weiying becoming pregnant after, so I just went with the first one! Anyway, thank you once again for your request and I hope I did them justice~

PS: I might also post this on AO3 if you don’t mind

WC: 5, 702 words (this was longer than I thought) 

When Weiying had first woken up in Mo Xuanyu’s body, he had realised the latter was an omega instantly, the coy scent of ripe oranges and summer skies giving it away. And when he had received a shoe to his face a minute later, several inappropriate curse words that would have made even his dearest Shijie flinch had flown through his mind. It wasn’t because he hated omegas, oh no, he was very much a gentleman to them, but the glaringly obvious difference in strength was enough to have his teeth grinding as he looked around his abode, shame and anger interwoven with each other.

Because omegas were physically weaker in all aspects, their golden cores taking longer to mature as their bodies were born soft, wide hips and fragile bone structures enticing alphas to mate them, pup them full. Which would have been fine, if it weren’t for the objectification of their body, the amazing blessed fertility turning them into breeding bitches every heat. And that had been the case for Mo Xuanyu, Weiying had realised with startling clarity as he sat in the middle of a ruined shack with barely a blanket for a nest.

 It was cold, the scent of salt sharp in the air as Weiying had cautiously sniffed the material, identifying tears and the bitter tang of blood. This was the scent of depression, of an omega huddling underneath covers in stark fear every heat praying for salvation, and it had made his long gone alpha instincts snarl. His ire only grew more as he noted the treatment he had received from the Mo family, had glanced around the depilated shack with white fury as he finally understood the abuse his summoner had given him, the liberties they had taken with someone weaker, quieter, gentler.

 But Mo Xuangyu had gotten his revenge, painting the Mo estate with blood, and Weiying was proud to call the body his own, alpha or not. Experiencing his first heat had been, well, interesting, to say the least, and mating with Lanzhan had turned his entire world upside down. It was fun, invigorating, life changing, and Weiying was happy to settle down into pillowed forts and hundreds of blankets, safe and comfortable within his nest at Cloud Recesses. It only got better at night, when he could snuggle into warm arms and bury his face into the crook of Lanzhan’s neck, breathing in the euphoric scent of sandalwood and cotton, a happy pleased alpha crooning into his ear.

 He was starting to understand the joy of being an omega, why some would revel in their dynamic even with all the abuse they may have had to face. Because it was a power trip watching Lanzhan melt when he batted his eyes and pushed out his bottom lip, the alpha immediately caving and letting Weiying sleep an hour longer. It made a darker part of him crow with delight whenever he would pinch his inner thigh under a blanket, hidden from view, until his eyes began to water, and Lanzhan would drop his scrolls, rushing into their nest to thumb away his tears. Perhaps it was a tad mean, a little rude to play on the alpha’s overwhelming desire to provide, but Weiying had been dead for sixteen years, damn it he deserved attention!

 And it wasn’t as if he had to do a lot to receive it. Lanzhan was happy to indulge him, happy to be distracted whenever Weiying would climb into his lap and mouth at his scent gland, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he kneaded Lanzhan’s thigh greedily. It was just so easy, letting his robe slide down one shoulder to show off his mating bite, proud and dark against his snowy white skin that would have his alpha sharply inhaling, fangs beginning to emerge. There was a certain level of intoxication to having Lanzhan listen to his every whim if he lowered his eyes just right, the satisfaction of having stone cold perfection give into his warmth, melting under his touch.

 Don’t tell anyone, but it was also highly entertaining to watch Lanzhan’s calligraphy brush tremble, the alpha’s ears cherry red whenever he’s forced to look away, as if he could possibly ignore Weiying’s sobs as he fingers himself open, the scent of slick and an eager omega thick in the air.

 However, he was beginning to think karma was finally finding his way to him when one robust heat later had declared him pregnant and heavy with Lanzhan’s litter. Suddenly everything was too much and too little all at once, and Weiying found himself swinging between cooing at his alpha and, well, dragging his claws through all twenty of Lanzhan’s robes whenever the other irritated him. Which would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that Lanzhan irritated him plenty, something Weiying hadn’t thought would be possible once they were mated. They were in love for crying out loud! He didn’t know why or what the alpha did wrong to warrant such visceral hate at times, and his logical brain constantly found issues with his weird responses, but Lanzhan was having none of it. And neither, unfortunately, was his omega.

 “Weiying-”

 “I don’t want this blanket! I already told you I don’t like the texture! I don’t like it, don’t want it, don’t need it, don’t want anything to do with it!” Weiying snarls, fingers digging into the pillow he has in his arms like a shield as he glowers at his alpha from his cocoon, canines bared dangerously. He had been antsy since morning, pawing at the blankets and sniffing them carefully as he repositioned them throughout the day, but hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong.

 At first, he had thought it was the pillows, but the moment he had laid them outside of his nest his inner omega had begun to cry in earnest, and Weiying had practically scrambled onto the floor for them, eyes wild and scent heavy with distress. Perhaps it’s the bottom layer, Weiying had guessed, peeling back the cotton sheet that covered their mattress, aware that it was due for a wash soon. Except he had barely handed Lanzhan the sheet before his omega had screamed, no return it mine part of nest mine mine mine, and he had almost mauled the other in an attempt to get it back, fingers shifting into claws as he spat viciously into Lanzhan’s face. But the alpha was patient, so kind and good to me, what a man, my man, Weiying had thought dazedly to himself as Lanzhan offered him blankets, soothing his omega’s rising haunches.

 And then he had offered that particular set of blankets and well.

 “Weiying-”

 “I hate it! I hate it!” Weiying shouts, chest heaving as he clutches the pillow even closer, violet eyes tracking the alpha who’s standing hesitatingly in the doorway, blankets behind the line separating both rooms. “Everything’s wrong,” he growls, and oh, everything is wrong, and suddenly Weiying is gasping for breath, eyes beginning to water as he sniffles, his bottom lip wobbling as he stares at Lanzhan, at his amazing alpha who’s trying and him, stupid omega who can’t even get a nest right, a nest where we’ll be having their pups and raising them and I’m a failure of an omega-

 “Weiying is not a failure.” Lanzhan’s calm voice cuts through his thoughts, and Weiying finds himself letting out a wet gasp, choked laughter bubbling in his throat as he watches Lanzhan get on his knees, carefully placing the blankets behind him. “Weiying is trying, and that’s all that matters,” Lanzhan reminds him gently, and Weiying growls, a displeased rumble emanating from his throat even as the praise makes him preen, makes his inner omega purr.

 “How would you know that huh Hanguang-jun?” Weiying mumbles peevishly, rubbing his eyes onto the sleeve of his robes as he glares half-heartedly at the alpha. “I’ve been here all morning,” he swallows, eyes beginning to fill with tears once more as he stares dejectedly at his nest, his pathetic excuse of a nest, “been here all afternoon,” he gulps, voice rising in pitch as his omega wolf paces, lips pulled back angrily because wrong, wrong, wrong, it’s all wrong, “and I still can’t fucking figure out what’s wrong!” With a loud yell Weiying threw the pillow, the low thump as it clipped Lanzhan in the chin emphasising his point as he hissed, inner omega growling and digging its paws into the ground because stupid, everything is stupid, everything is wrong, stupid nest, stupid omega, waiting in stupid nest for stupid alpha feeling stupid and angry and empty and-

 Oh.

 Oh.

 The realisation hits Weiying like a slap to the face, and with both hands busy cradling his baby bump now that the pillow was gone, Weiying barely manages to stop himself from tumbling backwards in shock. Because now he’s aware, aware of his hole that’s steadily licking slick, wetting his robes, scent muffled by the mountain of blankets he had added to his nest once he realised he was expecting. Because now that Weiying is paying attention he can feel it, feel the way his thighs are quivering and the way his hole itches, aches for something inside. Because now that Weiying has noticed, desire is welling up in him, calling for strong arms to hold him in place as something thick and hard sinks into his fluttering hole, for big hands to grab onto his hips and hold him down, breed him silly and god am I stupid or what?

 “Lanzhan, I need sex.” Weiying says calmly, eyes wide, and is gratified to see Lanzhan choke, the alpha accidentally knocking his head against the frame of the door in surprise. It makes him want to laugh, and he can’t help the cackle that escapes him as Lanzhan hastily rights himself, back straightening even as the pink flush blossoming across his cheek bones give away his embarrassment. It’s hilarious, downright funny to Weiying because who would have thought I was angry because I wasn’t having sex and oh god I need Lanzhan to sex me up even though we already do it every day and Jiangcheng is never going to let me live this down. But those thoughts will have to wait, Weiying thinks as he licks his lips gleefully, eyes growing half-lidded as he casually runs a hand down his chest to his belt.

 His action earns him a spike in Lanzhan’s sandalwood scent, the musk turning deep as the alpha begins to pay attention, spine straightening as he takes note of Weiying’s casual posture and splayed legs. Playfully toying with the knot, Weiying smirks as he slides his calves out from underneath the blanket, revealing pale lily legs, and accidentally chokes on his own scent, mandarin orange heavy with arousal, the sharp tartness of fruit swept away by the pinpricks of heat and spice. It’s alluring, practically engulfs the entire room, and that thought has Weiying grinning, fangs on full display as Lanzhan’s hands curl into fists, the alpha’s irises blowing out as his nostrils flare, breathing in the scent of slick, fertility and lust.

 Purring softly, Weiying allows the tail end of his belt to slip through his fingers once, twice, watching indulgently as Lanzhan’s eyes follow his movements, the alpha beginning to pant even as the sound remains minimal, quiet. But it’s there, and Weiying is riding on that wave of adrenaline, on that fixated gaze as he winds the tassel around his index finger, shooting Lanzhan a coy smile. There’s a flicker of wry amusement in those honey gold eyes before they darken with desire, and Weiying doesn’t hold back as he lets out a desperate mewl, back arching prettily as he yanks away his belt with a single finger, opening his robes.

 He’s wet, literally gushing, and Weiying feels himself gasp in relief as his heated skin meets the cool air of the room, baby bump proudly on display. It’s small, the curve not quite prominent enough for him to start waddling instead of walking, but it’s enough to force Lanzhan to hyperventilate, the rapid rise and fall of the alpha’s chest making Weiying’s lips curl into a victorious snarl. Slowly, he runs his fingers through the viscous translucent liquid, scooping it up from the inner junction of his thighs and drawing patterns over his skin. He makes a show of it, lifts his fingers into the air so Lanzhan can see the thick strands that drip over his fingers and palm, and when he’s sure the alpha is watching, completely riveted by him, Weiying pushes two fingers into his mouth and sucks.

 “Weiying-!!” Lanzhan rumbles, voice tight, and Weiying smiles sweetly back at his alpha, eyes lowering demurely before he jams his fingers further into his throat, making him gag. It doesn’t taste like anything but himself, salty and a tad flowery, but it’s worth it for the way Lanzhan inhales sharply, hands reaching up to grip at his headband, the alpha vibrating with need. So needy, Weiying thinks greedily to himself as he shifts in his nest, rocking into the sheets and staining it with his slick, so desperate for me. Swallowing around his fingers and letting out a muffled moan, Weiying lets Lanzhan watch him taste his own slick, tongue chasing after the dripping liquid and sliding over his digits before he stops.

 “Weiying…” Lanzhan whispers brokenly, and Weiying sweeps a cursory gaze over his husband before his eyes find the rising bulge between Lanzhan’s thighs. It’s pushing against Lanzhan’s white robes, and Weiying finds himself puffing his chest out proudly, preening at the answer from his alpha, at how much Lanzhan wants me in his lap, wants me spread and ready for him, and that image makes his mouth water. It has him palming his cock from root to tip, grinding into the palm of his hand as he locks eyes with Lanzhan, panting from exertion. The sexual tension in the air is palpable, but Weiying has always been a little cruel, a little mean. After all, how could he not be when his darling Hanguang-jun allowed him to get away with everything?

 Which is why Weiying refuses him entry, refuses to allow Lanzhan into their nest, instead running his hands over his chest and pinching his nipples. Watching as Lanzhan’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping his knees as Weiying moans, thrashing from the tiny bolts of pleasure is riveting. It feels good, makes him whine and sob as he flicks them playfully with his fingernails, making them harden. He rubs them between his index finger and thumb too, twists and plays until they’re swollen and puffy, areolas pink and heavy, stopping only when a hysterical grunt escapes Lanzhan’s lips. Not too much Weiying, not too much, the omega reminds himself as he lets go of his nipples and heads over to his hips, pulling his thighs apart to display the part Lanzhan wants most, is salivating like an alpha in rut for.

 “Weiying!” Lanzhan’s voice is sharp and furious, and Weiying does cackle at that reaction, eyes flickering up to meet incensed golden eyes as he traces his wet rim, massaging it with the pad of his thumb. His scent blooms even more, the mandarin orange bathing Lanzhan in desperate pheromones that’s a siren call to the alpha, crooning breed me, fuck me, don’t you want me alpha? Weiying’s rim gives way easily, how can it not when we do it every day, and Weiying arches with a relieved mewl when his finger slips in with a loud squelch. Patting his walls, Weiying lets himself adjust to the intrusion, the curl of his finger, before he drags it out and plunges it back in with a loud spurt of slick. Then, with Lanzhan quivering before him from the door way, Weiying begins to talk.

 “Look at what you did to me H-Hanguang-jun,” he whispers breathlessly, biting back a smug grin as Lanzhan visibly flinches, “I wasn’t this lewd when I was here at Cloud Recesses w-was I?” Head rolling backwards in bliss, Weiying lets himself rock against his finger, hole fluttering greedily around his digit, “Was this what you wanted Lanzhan? All w-wet and desperate f-for you?”

 “Ridiculous.” Lanzhan grinds out from behind clenched teeth, and Weiying grins, fangs and all as he spots Lanzhan’s canines grow, digging into the swell of his bottom lip.

 “A-Ah you think so?” Weiying murmurs, panting as his hips begin to shake, rutting furiously against his hand, slim fingers curling in the deepest part of him and making sparks fly up his spine. “But you m-made me like this Lanzhan,” Weiying arches, ass grinding against the sheets as he spreads his legs, swollen rim clenching down greedily on his fingers in full view for the alpha, “you b-bred me, bred me every n-night,” letting out a sharp whine, the omega’s hips began to roll, thighs trembling as his head knocked against the pillows, “you knocked me up-ah!” Eyes rolling backwards from the pleasure that was steadily building in his lower half, heat swirling in his lower stomach, the omega whimpered into the blanket, latching onto a corner with his mouth as he fought through the tremors, legs twitching from his close orgasm. Now, his inner omega howled, and Weiying shuddered, head heavy on the walls of his nest as he sucked on the soft material, breathing in Lanzhan’s sandalwood scent, the scent of mate, love, protection, mine.

 “Weiying-”

 “C-Come here.” Weiying whispers, eyes bleary as he pulls his fingers out with a sickening slurp, more slick pouring out of his sensitive hole that has him spasming, mind blank as he whimpers into the sheets. “L-Lanzhan,” Weiying whines, and this time he raises his head to stare at his alpha, irises blown, and cheeks flushed pink from arousal, “come here.”

 That permission, that command is all it takes for Lanzhan to snap, the alpha letting out a bloodcurdling snarl as he rips off his head band and practically throws himself into the nest. Squealing loudly, Weiying moans as a hot mouth engulfs his own, plush lips immediately prying his own apart and Lanzhan’s tongue plunging into his own. He gets a sharp nip on his lip for his troubles, for teasing, and Weiying whimpers as Lanzhan slides a hand under his neck, supporting him as he ravages his mouth. It tastes of home, of a furious desperate alpha, and Weiying finds himself pawing at Lanzhan’s robes, yanking the belt off and tossing it aside. More, more, his omega screams, and Weiying finds himself manically sobbing, canines snapping at Lanzhan’s ear as he snarls at the alpha to go faster, move, hurry up. It’s a scramble to get each other’s clothes off, and Weiying lets out a yelp as Lanzhan rips his to shreds, whimpering as the alpha snarls into his ear, angry and animalistic.

 “Lanzhan,” Weiying whispers, chokes as the other runs his nose down the side of his neck, “Lanzha-ah!” With a low growl, the alpha sank his teeth into Weiying’s scent gland, the smell of copper and blood permeating the air as Weiying wailed, head thrown back in ecstasy and pain. It’s everything he needs, everything he has been craving for since this morning when he had woken up grumbling and aching, inner omega whining that something isn’t right, need something, something’s missing. His annoyance was now all melting away under his alpha’s careful ministrations, roaring desire making his omega preen and hum, leaving him pliant as Lanzhan spreads his legs and sets a pillow beneath his hips, taking care of me like always, touch gentle even as his eyes glow, amber glinting deliriously.

 It doesn’t last though, as Lanzhan sinks two thicker fingers into him with voracious intent to drive him wild, scissoring Weiying open with rapid movements. “Hng, ngh, mmhng!” Weiying gasps at the sudden intrusion, mind turning blank with pleasure as he lets out a soundless scream, legs clamping around Lanzhan’s torso as he fights a delicious shudder that wrecks his body. It has his hands scrabbling over Lanzhan’s shoulders, eyes filling with tears as he bounces on those fingers, long and rough from hours of playing guqin, and it shouldn’t be amusing, but it earns a soft huff from Lanzhan, and Weiying laughs too, high and hysterical as he undulates, clenches tight around those fingers every time they try to pull out of his body.

 “L-Lanzhan,” Weiying whimpers, and the alpha stills as the omega tugs at his hair, lashes dotted with tears as he heaves, trembling. “R-Ready, I’m ready, Lanzhan, please, alpha,” and with an answering croon, Lanzhan twists his fingers one more time, watches greedily as Weiying arches and wails, clamping around him as he fights through another almost orgasm, hole squeezing and fluttering around the alpha’s fingers. There’s another gush of slick, thick and heavy, and Lanzhan mouths at Weiyng’s scent gland, his bite mark as he pulls the omega’s legs apart for the final main course.

 That move reveals Weiying’s core, his swollen puffy rim, and Weiying has to bite down on his fist as Lanzhan pries his hole open with his fingers, putting him on display for his mate. It doesn’t help that he’s lying on his back, that his womb is swollen from carrying Lanzhan’s pups, and shame, for the first time in his life, wells up in him as he feels his channel weakly spurt, slick dribbling out from his gaping hole. He tries to hide it, as he always does, but his face must show it all, for Lanzhan is leaning in, and Weiying sighs as the alpha rubs his nose against the other’s, rumbling reassuringly as he slides a large hand over the baby bump. Alpha is good, Weiying’s inner omega purrs, alpha will protect us, alpha has waited sixteen years for us, and with a soft sob because how lucky can I be, how lucky am I, Weiying cradles Lanzhan’s face and pulls him closer, kisses his forehead.

 “Weiying?” Lanzhan questions softly, and really this is unfair, Weiying thinks to himself as he looks up at his husband, really looks up at the man who has risked everything for him. Those sun gold eyes that peonies and all the gold of Lanling Jin could never compare to, long butterfly lashes and that gentle taciturn mouth, all of it was his. From the sweat of his brow to the tips of those long flowy locks, that strong sturdy back that bore thirty discipline whip scars and that burn on his chest that Weiying would have shared back then, was all his. Sixteen years he had waited, this beautiful gorgeous man had waited, had held a torch for him, raised his son, inquired about him, lived through seasons calling his name from spring to summer to autumn to winter. Sixteen years, and staring at the slight frown marring Lanzhan’s face, the worry hidden in golden orbs that whispered is this okay, are you okay, tell me what I can do, made Weiying feel like a carefree child running around Lotus Pier all over again, lips trembling and heart just so, so full.

 “Inside.” Weiying answers instead, voice small, and Lanzhan blinks as Weiying buries his face into the alpha’s neck, presses his lips against the shell of his alpha’s ear and says, “I need to feel you.”

 “Mm.” Lanzhan murmurs softly, and Weiying isn’t crying, he really isn’t, as Lanzhan presses a kiss to his temple, the head of his cock rubbing against Weiying’s fluttering entrance. Nodding his head in permission, Weiying gasps, eyes squeezing shut as he feels Lanzhan move, cock nudging at his inner walls and gliding even deeper. He can feel the burning heat that follows, the stretch making him writhe as he feels Lanzhan’s cock throb within him, an answering pulse as he clenches down on it, overwhelmed. They’re doing the same thing, but everything is just so much more, and Weiying finds himself sobbing as his alpha’s cock spears through his wet heat, loud and wet amidst the little worn out cries and whines that escapes his lips, those sounds kissed away by Lanzhan, the alpha crooning softly into his ear.

 “Lanzhan, Lanzhan,” Weiying babbles, tear tracks running down his face as he turns his head and latches onto the alpha’s scent gland, a desperate broken wail muffled as he laves at the raised flesh, walls trembling from where Lanzhan is sheathed in him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, the heat of their bodies building on each other, cresting higher and higher the way drinking alcohol on a cold night always feels. It makes him dizzy, the beat of his heart echoing as he’s pressed chest to chest with his lover, the Wen sect scar a dark mark on a pure pristine canvass, a mark of ownership Weiying had placed on the alpha before he had even realised Lanzhan was his.

 Sucking harder, Weiying trills, voice garbled as he breathes in satisfaction and happiness, sandalwood flooding his senses as Lanzhan slides a hand over his baby bump. The alpha caresses the curve lovingly, and Weiying lets out a wet laugh as those fingertips dance over his stretched skin, palm hot and steady. He can feel the answering churn, of pups twisting in response to their father’s touch and these are his children, Weiying thinks dazedly as he splays his own hand over Lanzhan’s keeping the alpha’s touch there. There’s life in him, and it’s his, his and Lanzhan’s, and this time Weiying can’t help but smile, eyes filling with tears as he purrs, kneading the alpha’s forearm sweetly. It earns him a happy chuff, Lanzhan’s own rumble escaping the alpha’s throat before he decides to move.

 Grabbing Weiying’s hips, Lanzhan slides out and Weiying whimpers at the loss, nosing the base of Lanzhan’s throat as the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh meets in tandem with the slow drag of cock inside him. It’s sweet torture, feeling Lanzhan pull out, grazing his most tender spots and ignoring the way his walls clung onto the alpha’s cock, wet and leaking. It makes him weak and wanton, hips jerking upwards desperately as he mewls and paws at his alpha, screaming for attention. Inside, come back inside, his omega cajoles, hole fluttering prettily around air as Weiying looks up at the alpha through his lashes, light-headed. Lanzhan’s brows are furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat running down his temples, and beautiful, my beautiful wonderful husband, when he moves. And the sound that escapes Weiying’s mouth is visceral, unholy, as he feels Lanzhan’s cock dive right into his deepest recesses.

 “H-Hah! Hng, hn, mhn,” liquid pleasure is runs through Weiying’s veins as Lanzhan begins to move, and while the other is quiet in bed, nothing quite beats the satisfied grunts and huffs of air his alpha gives every time he pulls out only to chase the tight heat of Weiying’s hole. “G-Good, Lanzhan s-so goo-ah!” Weiying whines, head lolling backwards as he feels his lower abdomen begin to twinge, his thighs twitching as heat pooled in his lower half and slick spurted out of him. Babbling, fingers still splayed over his baby bump, Weiying moves to touch his cock only to whimper as Lanzhan slaps his hand away, growling threateningly as he slows.

 “N-No!” Weiying cries, bottom lip trembling as he rocks his hips weakly, each move punctuated with a gasp. “P-Please, alpha, a-alpha d-don-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as with a rumbling purr Lanzhan’s thrusts begin to pick up speed once more, a feverish light in those golden orbs as the alpha buries his head into Weiying’s neck and begins to mouth at his scent gland, tongue massaging that swollen flesh and raking his fangs across it. There’s no pain to it, only an overwhelming scent of lust, of sandalwood piqued with heavy flora, the scent after a rainstorm, and Weiying feels himself moan as Lanzhan’s grip on his hip tightens. It’s going to bruise, and a vicious sense of triumph runs through his veins as he drools, mouth gasping for air as he stares at Lanzhan, the esteemed Hanguang-jun with his eyes glowing and lips pulled back in a dangerous feral snarl, debauched, tainted.

 I did that, he thinks delightedly, fingers entwining around ebony black hair and yanking greedily, I put that expression there.

 “K-Knot m-me.” Weiying manages to utter through the rapid abuse of his body, words stuttering out as he pants, locking his ankles around Lanzhan’s torso and tugging the alpha closer. “W-Want a k-knot. W-Want Lanzh-zhan’s knot-hng!” It earns him a soft hum of delight, the light airiness of cotton making itself known as the alpha begins to move even faster, meeting his omega’s demands and oh it feels so good, Weiying thinks to himself as he keens, throwing back his head as he wails, hole wide open for his alpha to use. There’s something about this that’s finally scratching his itch, his instinctual craving that’s been gnawing at his insides all morning, and Weiying lets it be known, lets his alpha bask in the happiness that he’s satisfying his omega with every loud cry that accompanies his thrust.

 “Weiying.” Lanzhan murmurs and the omega makes a soft inquiring sound that sounds more like a ragged sob, and the alpha croons, voice a melody as he knocks his head against Weiying’s. “Weiying.” Lanzhan repeats, more breathlessly, and oh he’s close, and Weiying arches, hips shoving upwards to meet his alpha’s as he gasps out “Yes, c-come on, almost-” and is greeted with the tell-tale swell of an alpha’s knot. Moaning, Weiying grabs onto Lanzhan’s arms and moves with renewed vigour, chest heaving as he bounces on the alpha’s cock, eyes rolling backwards as his thighs begin to shake, balls pulling tight. A desperate low “Weiying” made through gritted teeth is all the warning he gets before his alpha is shoving his knot inside him, and Weiying chokes at the fullness, rim stretching tight to accommodate the cock which lodges within him.

 “Lanzhan, Lanzh-ah! A-Ah, hng, mmhng!” Weiying wails, spine bowing as he lifts off the nest, lips parted in a silent scream. It feels like he’s dying, spirit barely anchored into the mortal realm as pleasure erupts, sending his blood boiling with heat. Lanzhan’s playing dirty, grinding against his prostate and mean, alpha’s being so mean but oh how Weiying loves it. Thrashing weakly, fingers digging into Lanzhan’s biceps so hard he almost draws blood, Weiying is on the cusp of something, abdominal muscles beginning to curl as he’s fucked into his nest, the brutal abuse of his prostate by the head of his alpha’s cock making him drool and his thighs quiver. Please, please, his omega screams, wailing as it comes even closer to the high it’s desperate to reach, pup me, fill me, keep me full always, always-

 A firm hand on his cock jerks him out of his thoughts, and Weiying squeals as Lanzhan begins to stroke him, head shaking wildly as his fingers begin to morph into claws, digging into his alpha’s white soft skin. “N-No,” Weiying gasps, eyes wild as he stares at his alpha deliriously, his curved womb blocking his cock from view and wobbling with every aborted shove of Lanzhan’s hips. Pupils dilated, and lips parted in a broken wail, the omega can only shudder as his alpha rubs the head of his cock, fingers ghosting his silt and making pleasure burn through him. It’s building, the tension in his abdomen, and Weiying can’t hold back his howl of delight as the pleasure peaks, cresting magnificently as he cums, sobbing on Lanzhan’s cock, teeth bared and eyes alight.

 “Weiying, Weiying, Weiying.” Lanzhan chants, voice tight, and the omega whimpers as he feels his alpha abuse his prostate, pressure unforgiving. But this is Lanzhan, alpha, alpha who was so good, sated his omega so well, “Lanzhan,” Weiying purrs gently, fingers carding through Lanzhan’s hair as he noses at his alpha’s neck. “Lanzhan, I need you.” He whispers, voice weak as he locks eyes with glowing amber hues. And just like that the alpha is coming, breath hitching and body stilling as enlarged fangs find purchase on Weiying’s neck, the alpha shaking as he cums, spilling inside Weiying’s body in drawn out spurts.

 It’s gone now, the need to pace and to shred and to have something. Was gone the minute Lanzhan gave a low grunt and snarled, nostrils flaring as his seed flooded Weiying’s hole. Shivering from the aftershocks, body oversensitive, Weiying can only murmur soft words of endearments, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and cotton, basking in the post coitus glow. “So good, so good Lanzhan.” He murmurs, voice soft, and Lanzhan snorts, the sound muffled from where his jaws are still clamped around Weiying’s scent gland. The overwhelming scent of mandarin has faded, Weiying’s omega finally sated, and slowly, like he’s handling something infinitely precious, Lanzhan carefully dislodges his canines. It’s sore, and the wince that escapes Weiying doesn’t go unnoticed as the alpha lets out a frustrated sound, tongue soothing over the mark as he looks up at the omega worriedly.

 “It’s fine, really.” Weiying whispers, lips beginning to curl as he presses his forehead to Lanzhan’s, the headband still wound around his wrist. More than fine, his omega purrs, rubbing its head against the alpha, tail flicking lazily in happiness, alpha is perfect, perfect. Slowly moving the alpha’s hand back to his distended womb, Weiying blinks back tears as he feels the pups move, stirring slightly before nestling inside him. Mine, this is mine, he thinks, awed, and there’s no helping it as a tearful grin breaks across his face, as he rubs his nose against Lanzhan’s, heart warm and body perfectly sated. A low rumble echoes across the room, and Weiying huffs as Lanzhan pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling the omega close.

 He’s lucky to have his Lanzhan with him.

 “Hey, I don’t think we should let Jiangcheng name them. He sucks at names.”

 “Mm. Whatever Weiying wants.”

 So, incredibly, lucky.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Dreams

Joker|Arthur Fleck x Reader

warning: super nsfw

word count:  2,005

~~~

He was on top of you.  You both were wrapped up underneath your comforter.  He was pounding his cock inside you fast and hard.  Your skin was sticky from sweat.  You moaned his name loudly.  He was breathing heavy.  He kissed you passionately, but sloppy.  You had never had sex this good.  You could hear your skin colliding, it was like heaven.  He grinned down at you, sweat dripping from his locks.  He kissed you once again.  

You woke up the next morning in a sweat.  “It was all a dream,” you thought.  You ran your fingers through your hair.  Arthur Fleck was your neighbor.  He was odd, but you found it charming.  You both would often have long conversations in your doorways, neither of you ever inviting the other inside.  You did not know how Arthur felt about you.  He obviously enjoyed talking to you because you had seen him dodge plenty of conversations with others, but he always stopped to talk to you each time he saw you.  You enjoyed Arthur.  You thought about him a lot.  Sometimes you thought about him in ways someone should not think about another unless they were romantically involved.  The dream you had had was one of many about him.

You decided you wanted to go over to Arthur’s apartment today.  You made some food, dressed yourself up slightly, and headed over to his apartment.  You hesitated to knock on the door.  “He’s going to think you’re crazy,” you thought.  But that was okay with you.  You knocked on the door.  It took a moment, but Arthur opened the door.  You smiled at him widely.  He also smiled upon seeing you, “Y/N, what are you doing here?”  You held up the food, “I thought maybe you’d like to have lunch?”  Arthur smiled widely, “Oh, wow.  I would love to.”  He led you inside, taking the food from you and sitting it on the dining room table.  He pulled out a chair for you, scooting it in for you as you sat.  He grabbed plates and silverware from the cabinets and drawers.  He set them for you and himself.  You split the food and both began enjoying the meal.

Arthur stared at you from across the small round table.  Truthfully, he had been thinking about you a lot.  He did almost anything to get to talk to you.  He wanted your attention more than anything.  He longed for you.  He wanted you.  He had pleasured himself to thoughts of you several times.  He had even been thinking about you this morning.  He was thinking about taking you in his hands next time he saw you and bringing you back to his apartment.  He thought about pinning you against the counter and fucking you right there.  “No need to waste time going into the bedroom when I could fuck her right her,” he had thought.  It was different seeing you in his apartment.  He felt like this was a sign.  “God,” he thought, “The things I am going to do to her.  She just waltzed her little self in here.  She has no idea what she’s got in store for her now that she’s with me.  Fuck, I hope she wants me as much as I want her.”  

“That was delicious, Y/N,” Arthur complimented you.  You blushed slightly, “Thank you so much, Arthur.”  Arthur stood and began clearing the table.  “You should stay a little while.  We can find something on the TV to watch,” Arthur spoke in a deep voice.  “I don’t mean to intrude on your day, Art,” you opposed.  “I’m inviting you.  Please, stay with me,” he shot a grin at you.  You nodded with pink cheeks, “Okay, I will.”

Arthur led you into the living room.  You sat on the couch, hoping he would join right beside you.  He walked away into the hallway.  He came back with a blanket the perfect size for the two of you.  He laid it on you, covering you politely.  He joined you on the couch, putting his arm around the back of you.  He did not join you under the blanket which disappointed you.  You threw part of the blanket onto him.  “But it’s supposed to be all for you,” Arthur opposed.  “I would rather share with you,” you smiled.  You snuggled up against Arthur, placing one of your hands on his thigh as you stared at the TV.

“Oh my God,” Arthur thought, “She’s trying so hard to be near me.  D-Does this mean she wants me?”

“He’s being such a gentlemen,” you thought, “I hope I am reading into this right.”

You rested your head on his chest.  Arthur’s heart skipped a beat.  He petted your head.  

“Y/N,” Arthur questioned.  “Hmm, yes, Arthur?”  He looked at your deeply, “Did you come here for more than just lunch?  Are you looking for... dessert perhaps?”  You felt your cheeks and other places flood with heat.  “I-I don’t know if I understand,” you were embarrassed.  He pinched your chin between his fingers, “Did you come here with food, all dolled up, to come and fuck me?”  You let out a deep breath.  You could feel yourself growing wet with his words.  You nodded innocently.  “Clever little thing, aren’t you.  Coming here, getting me all snuggled up with you on the couch, how did you know?  I’ve been dreaming about fucking you for weeks, doll.  I’ve even gotten off to you a couple times.  Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about dicking you until you couldn’t leave this place,” Arthur growled.  You basically moaned at him, “Arthur, I’ve been dreaming about you fucking me for weeks now.”  Arthur smirked, “Is that so?”  He ran his hand up your leg, under your skirt, inches away from your opening.  You trembled at his touch.  His hand continued to inch closer and closer to your opening.  

“Arthur,” you muttered.  He raised an eyebrow, “Yes, baby?”  “I’m not wearing any underwear,” you slightly giggled.  Arthur’s face became painted with a wide grin, “Oh, so you did plan on getting something from me today?  What a naughty girl you are.”  His fingers finally reached your opening.  Arthur placed his lips against your neck, “I hope this is what you wanted.”  He shoved three fingers deep inside you.  You threw your head back in pleasure.  Arthur smiled against your skin.  He began to pump his fingers inside you fast.  “Fuck, Arthur,” you moaned with every motion he made.  

He pulled his fingers out of you abruptly causing you to whine.  He looked at his glistening fingers, admiring them.  “God,” Arthur stuck the fingers in his mouth sucking them clean, “What a good girl you are.”  You watched him as he wiped his fingers on his pants.  You placed your hands on both sides of his face, pulling him to your lips.  You pressed a deep kiss onto him.  You parted his lips with your tongue.  He placed a firm hand on your waist.  Your tongues intertwined.  You groaned as Arthur bit at your lip, pulling away from you.  He quickly placed his lips to your neck.  His top half was pushed against yours, he was trying to be as close to you as possible.  He left open mouth kisses all over your neck.  You shivered at him.  You felt him smile against your neck.  He worked his way up, kissing the soft spot behind your ear.  You smiled, arching your back at him.  He reached his arms around your back, grabbing you in the lower part of it.  He held you close to him.  He moved away from your neck and looked at you.  He was admiring you.  He loved the way you looked, he would never get tired of this view.  You stared up at him, leaning and placing a small kiss on his forehead.  

“Come to the bedroom with me,” Arthur questioned, mostly demanding.  You ran a hand over his hair, “Of course.”  Arthur took your hand in his, guiding you to his dark bedroom.  He led you in first, closing the door behind him.  It was almost completely black in the room.  You stood completely still, trying to let your eyes adjust.  It was cold and silent in the room.  Arthur placed a hand on you in the dark.  He pulled you into him, his hard member poked at you through his pants.  You could hear him breathing.  You placed a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath.  He took your other hand and placed it on his hard member.  You blushed.  Neither of you could see each other completely, you could make out small details of each other’s figures.  You gripped his hard member through his pants, he let out a low breath.  You tugged at him slightly, seeing how he would react.  He rested his forehead on yours, his mouth was open.  You could feel his warm breath hitting you in the face.  Your name fell from his lips quietly.  He grabbed your wrist lightly, removing it.  He ran his hands down your back, taking your ass in them.  He pulled you against him, holding you there.  He rested his chin on your shoulder.  His lips met at your ear, “Are you ready?”  You nodded innocently.  

He picked you up, carrying you the short distance to the bed.  He laid you down softly.  “Undress,” his voice was raspy.  You did as he wanted.  You dropped all your clothes to the floor.  You heard his belt hit the floor.  He was on top of you now.  You felt his hard member hit your thigh.  You ran your hands up his bare chest.  He was bony.  His ribs stuck out.  You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as you rested your hands there.  His skin was softer than you expected.  He kissed you tenderly.  His lips traveled to your jawline, placing kisses anywhere he could.  He grabbed your leg, pulling it up on him and the other directly after.  He positioned himself at your opening.  You saw his eyes in the dark.  They looked hungry.  He slid inside you.  He filled you nicely.  You called out to him.  He began to pump himself inside you fast and hard.  He was breathing heavy.  You moaned and groaned with each of his motions.  You could feel a knot growing in your stomach.  You ran a hand up to Arthur’s face, “I-I’m about to finish, Art.”  He crashed his lips into yours.  He began slamming himself into you.  He was hitting all the right spots inside you.  You clenched around him as your orgasm ripped through you.  You called out Arthur’s name loudly.  He did not slow his pace.  “Fuck, you feel so good all tight around me like this,” Arthur moaned.  The darkness was spinning as you came down from your high.  You felt Arthur’s cock twitch inside you as his climax was approaching.  Arthur began to kiss you as he spilled inside you.  He pumped himself inside you, filling you with his seed.  One of his hands ran through your hair.  He pulled out of you once he was finished.  

Arthur rested his body on yours.  You wrapped your arms around him as his body relaxed.  You ran your fingers up and down his back, your nails scratching him slightly.  “That was amazing, Art,” you whispered to him.  You heard Arthur smile, “You are amazing.”  You blushed.  He was so kind.  Arthur rolled off you, pulling you on top of him.  You rested your head on his chest as he petted you.  “I want you to lay here with me all night,” Arthur murmured.  You chuckled, “It’s the middle of the day.”  Arthur chuckled along with you, “I don’t care.  I don’t want this moment to end.”  You got comfortable on him.  You felt yourself growing tired.  “Can I just lay here and snuggle and nap with you,” you yawned.  Arthur kissed the top of your head, “Of course.  That sounds like heaven.”  

You felt yourself drifting off.

~~~

//Thank you for reading!  If you are interesting in being tagged in future Joker works, let me know!//

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[tsuki-chibi]

Harry Potter Valentine’s Fic: The Rules

Read it on AO3!

--------

"Harry? What are you doing still awake?"

"Waiting for Charlie."

The room brightened briefly before Ginny extinguished the tip of her wand with a flick. "It's almost 3am. Charlie owled last night to say it might be after sunrise before he touched down..."

"I know," Harry said, not moving. He was curled up on the window seat in the living room of the Burrow. The fire was banked, providing just enough light for him to be able to see Ginny's thoughtful expression. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she would put up an argument the way that Hermione had. She hadn't wanted to leave Harry down here alone, and it had finally taken Ron practically dragging her out of the room before Hermione gave up and went up to bed. That had been about two hours ago, by Harry's best guess.

"Okay," Ginny said finally. "But here." She padded across the room to a chest and opened it, pulling out a thick blanket that had doubtlessly been knitted by Mrs Weasley. It was a riot of colours, blues and purples and greens fading into yellows and oranges, but blessedly warm when she walked over and settled it around his shoulders. Harry snuggled into the blanket gratefully, not even having realized how cold he was until that moment.

"Thanks," Harry said with a small smile.

Ginny smiled back. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night." He watched her go before he turned back to the window. It wasn't snowing tonight, but the clouds were thick and heavy with the promise of an on-coming storm. Wizards were fortunate, Harry reflected, in that at least two of their ways of transportation were unaffected by snow. Travelling by Floo didn't even require stepping outside. But Charlie had said that he was coming as far as the next town by train, and then he was planning to fly the rest of the way by broom. Mrs Weasley had spent a good deal of time tutting under her breath about boys and their brooms.

But Harry could understand where Charlie was coming from. He knew from the letters that Charlie wrote that the reserve was extremely busy lately, so Charlie didn't have much of an opportunity for flying. There was nothing like a good flight to clear your head, so it made perfect sense that's how Charlie would want to start off his vacation... to Harry, anyway. Which he figured was part of the reason why he was the only one waiting up.

Then there was the other part.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he pulled his knees up against his chest, draping the blanket over his cold feet. Upstairs, there was a spot for him on Ginny's floor - or so he suspected, considering that Ron and Hermione had gone upstairs after Mrs Weasley had gone to bed. But there was also another spot for him several miles away: in Draco's bed. And while Harry had been very happily claiming the latter every night for about five months now, he needed to talk to Charlie desperately before he could do so another night.

Luckily, Christmas was a convenient excuse. Draco was spending the night with his parents, but he had agreed to come to the Burrow tomorrow morning. Harry fully expected that Draco would be here no later than seven, because both Draco and Lucius usually woke up around six, and an hour was more than enough time for Lucius to be his usual self and piss Draco off to the point where Draco would leave rather than say something that would upset Narcissa. That meant Harry had - he checked his watch and sighed - about four hours to talk to Charlie first.

He rested his head against the cold glass for a moment, then straightened. Had that been a flicker of colour off in the distance? He strained his eyes, holding perfectly still, before biting back a whoop. That was definitely someone on a broom, and there would only be one person heading for the Burrow at this time of night. Harry jumped up, bringing the blanket with him as he dashed over to the door. He stopped just long enough to jam his feet into an old pair of trainers before he threw the door open and rushed outside.

Charlie was just touching down, though had Harry not known it was him he wouldn’t have recognized Charlie at all considering how heavily he was dressed. His dark blue cloak was pulled up around his face and he was wearing a hat pulled low over his forehead and ears. But that couldn't disguise the huge smile that appeared when he saw Harry, and he lifted his gloved hand in greeting.

"Hey Harry! Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," Harry said, crossing the snow towards him.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," said Charlie, tucking his broom beneath his arm.

“It was no big deal,” Harry said with a shrug. He shivered. The blanket really wasn’t enough to ward off the chill.

“Let’s get inside,” Charlie said, motioning to the door, and Harry eagerly complied. The Burrow felt wonderfully warm after just a minute outside, and he couldn’t imagine how Charlie was feeling. He stood aside and watched as Charlie shed his outerwear, hanging it all up on the pegs.

“What happened?” Harry asked, noticing a bandage Charlie’s right forearm.

“New dragon at the reserve. Bit prickly, but she’s coming around,” Charlie said. “Mum’ll sit me down to one of her lectures about finding a safer job, I’m sure.” He grinned, not looking bothered by the thought, and gave his head a toss. He’d grown his hair out, Harry realized; it wasn’t as long as Bill’s by any means, but it was long enough to be tied into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck. Something else Mrs Weasley wouldn’t be pleased about, no doubt.

“So, your work is going well?” Harry said politely.

“Harry, forgive me, but I don’t think you waited up until 3am to ask me about my work. I’m very tired, so if we could skip to whatever is bothering you that you don’t want anyone else to overhear?” Charlie’s voice was very kind, but Harry still flushed.

“I – sorry. It can wait –” Harry turned to go upstairs, inwardly berating himself, but Charlie’s hand caught his shoulder before he could take more than a few steps.

“Hey now, that’s not what I meant. I’m happy to talk to you anytime.” He chuckled. “Besides, if we wait, who knows how long it’ll be before we have a moment to ourselves? The house is stuffed to bursting right now.”

He had a point. The Burrow was big, but right now it was already stuffed with Bill, Fleur, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Harry, Charlie, and Mr and Mrs Weasley. Later this morning, Percy, Draco, Sirius, Remus, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were slated to show up – and there was no telling who else might wander in. Mr and Mrs Weasley prided themselves on the Burrow being a welcome space to any friends who needed it this time of year.

“If you’re sure,” Harry said, still ready to rush upstairs at the slightest suggestion that Charlie was too tired for this.

“I’m perfectly sure. Come here.” Hand still on Harry’s shoulder, Charlie towed him over to the kitchen table and made him sit. Then he started poking around the kitchen. Harry watched, not sure what Charlie was looking for, until Charlie opened a pot on the stove and made a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed two mugs and filled them, then brought one over to Harry.

“Hot chocolate?” Harry said, blinking. He’d expected tea.

“Good ol’ Mum. She knows I love a cup after I travel.” Charlie sat and looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

But now that the time to talk had come, Harry found himself tongue-tied. He fidgeted, lowering his gaze to the table as he wondered how best to explain. Charlie waited, watching him patiently, which just made Harry feel guilty. He was positive that Charlie was thinking longingly of his bed upstairs, and here Harry was keeping him up longer… Finally, he forced himself to say it.

“I think I broke the asexual rules!”

… That wasn’t how he wanted to say it.

Charlie snorted with laughter, then covered his mouth and cleared his throat. “Err, what’s that now?”

“I… um…” Harry mumbled, so embarrassed the tips of his ears were burning.

“Harry, my lad, you know there are no rules that you can really break,” Charlie said gently. “We’ve talked about this; there are no asexual Aurors who are going to break the door down. Just tell me what happened.”

Right. Harry could do that. He stared harder at the table and said, “I think… I mean, I’ve been dating Draco and it’s going well… really well. I-I love him.” He suspected that wasn’t surprising news to Charlie. It certainly hadn’t been to anyone else. Even Ron had greeted that pronouncement with a weary resignation, like it was something he had long ago got used to.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” Charlie said sincerely, as Harry had known he would: he’d already told Charlie as much in his letters. Charlie and the twins had been the most accepting by far.

“But lately I… I realized…” Harry clenched his hands into fists. “I think I’m attracted to him.” He blurted out the second bit and hunched his shoulders.

Charlie was quiet for a moment, then he said, “You mean sexually?”

Still not daring to look, Harry nodded miserably. He couldn’t even quantify how long he’d been feeling this way, but he thought it might have been a month or two: it had hit him suddenly last week, when Draco got out of bed naked and stopped to stretch right in the middle of a patch of sunlight. The golden light had lit up the panes of his body, making him look like a god, and Harry had felt a surge of lust so strong it nearly knocked him off his feet.

It had freaked him out big time. Harry had never felt anything like that before. It was the first time in his life he could honestly say he wanted to have sex with someone. He wanted to have sex with Draco. He was sexually attracted to Draco! And had been for some time, though he hadn’t realized that what he was feeling was sexual attraction until that stretch.

Now he didn’t know what to do. Back in his seventh year, when Charlie had pulled him aside for a chat right before Bill’s and Fleur’s wedding, the whole world had opened up. Suddenly, Harry had a label for himself that made sense and explained why he wasn’t sexually attracted to anyone. Romantically, well. That was a whole different story, as in the months following the war, he’d fallen head over heels for Draco.

Sex had never been a big deal for them. Harry still liked sex; it made him feel good and he liked making Draco feel good too. They did it once or twice a week, depending on their busy and varying schedules. But he had never wanted it before with a specific person. He’d never wanted to pin Draco down and do things to him. It was honestly a little scary to suddenly feel this way.

“And that’s bad,” Charlie prompted when the silence had stretched without either of them speaking.

“Well, yeah! I’m asexual! I’m not supposed to feel this way!” Harry said shrilly.

Charlie snorted again. “Oh, Harry. There are no rules about this sort of thing.”

“But you said –”

“I know. I know what I said,” Charlie said. He shifted, and finally Harry looked up at him. Charlie was smiling as he added, “Sexuality can be fluid. Some people go their whole lives relatively set in their ways, but others can change. It happens.”

Harry chewed his lower lip, mulling that over. He supposed it made sense, but… “But… then I can’t be asexual, right?”

“Well, technically no,” Charlie admitted. “You can keep using that label if you want to, but honestly it sounds more like you might demisexual.”

“Demisexual,” Harry repeated.

“Yeah. I have a friend like that. They don’t feel sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone. For them, that’s not limited to romantic relationships. They’ve been attracted to friends before too. But for you, it could be more limited because there’s so few people that you really trust.” Charlie lifted his mug and sipped at it, watching Harry with shrewd eyes.

He had a point. Harry’s circle of friends hadn’t widened much in the years since the war. It didn’t help that in the end, he had foregone Auror training and decided to take up the mantle of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. So, he saw the same people – his fellow professors – on a regular basis, and you weren’t really allowed to be friends with students, so his scope was limited.

Draco was really the first person Harry had ever seriously dated. There had been Cho, but that hadn’t ever gone anywhere. He’d dated Ginny briefly post-war, but both had been too damaged to really make a go of it, and now Ginny was happily dating Luna. There had been a couple of other women after Ginny, but no one that really made Harry feel anything close to what Draco did. Enemies or not, he could never deny that Draco had always inspired feelings of passion.

And he did trust Draco. More than he had ever trusted anyone except for Ron, Hermione and Sirius, to be honest. Enough so that Harry had started to talk about what had happened during the war, including things that he had never told anyone. He drummed his fingers on the table, thinking about the way Draco would hold his hands during those moments, and the way that Draco always seemed to know exactly when Harry needed a hug or when he didn’t want to be touched at all – often before Harry himself even realized.

“I love him,” Harry said again in a tiny voice. “I love him a lot. So that’s why…?”

“It’s my best guess. Harry, listen.” Charlie leaned forward. “I wouldn’t let this freak you out too much, okay? You and Draco have a really good thing going on. I can see how happy you make each other. As long as he keeps making you happy, that’s what you should be focusing on.”

“Right.” Harry took a deep breath, feeling the knot in his chest loosen some. “Do you think I was always demisexual and didn’t know it, or was I asexual and changed?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m not sure, sorry. You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.”

That made sense. Harry leaned back in his chair and finally took a sip of his lukewarm chocolate. Demisexual. There was a name for it, for what he was feeling, and that was more of a relief than he really wanted to admit. Because if there was a name for it, he wasn’t the only person that this had happened to. He wasn’t a failure as an asexual: he was demisexual. He liked that.

“It was scary,” he said at last. “Feeling that way suddenly. I didn’t expect it.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine.” Charlie made a face and stood up. “Just… take it slow, maybe? I hear that kind of thing can be overwhelming at first. Did you talk to Draco about it at all?”

“No. I wanted to get things clear in my own head before I told him. Knowing Draco, he’s going to take it as a huge compliment that he was the one to awaken my sexual desire.” Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as Charlie sniggered.

“Probably,” Charlie said, amused as he took his cup over to the sink. “Are you okay now?”

“I’m fine. Thanks, Charlie,” Harry said. He was surprised when Charlie came over and hugged him, but quickly sank into the hug.

“No problem, little bro,” Charlie said, ruffling Harry’s hair. Harry yelped and swatted at him, and Charlie laughed again and disappeared upstairs.

Rather than follow, Harry rinsed out his cup and went back to the couch. He curled up, feeling better now that he had spoken to Charlie. Now that he had a word for it, he’d be able to talk to Draco. And to Hermione: as soon as she heard about this, she’d be tripping over herself to do research. Harry would shortly know more about being demisexual than he’d ever wanted to know.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep but did. He only woke up when someone began to gently shake his shoulder; he opened his eyes and found himself looking into Draco’s beautiful grey eyes. Harry blinked, realizing that he could hear Ron, Luna, and Sirius laughing. A smile crept across Harry’s face and he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders.

“Hello to you too,” Draco said, laughing.

“Mm, what time is it?” Harry asked, rubbing his nose against Draco’s neck. Much as he might tease Draco about the expense, he loved the smell of Draco’s cologne.

“Just after 6:30am,” Draco replied. “My father woke up early.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said with an inward grimace.

“I’m not. It gave me an excuse to leave.” Draco was smirking, Harry knew. He pulled back to look and – yup. The smirk made Harry’s heart flutter, and it also made certain other parts of him interested. That was new. He’d have to get used to that.

“Can we talk tonight?” Harry whispered.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “Talk? In a bad way?”

“No! In a very, very good way,” Harry said, smiling in that way that he knew Draco thought was sexy.

“Colour me intrigued,” Draco said, and was just leaning in for a kiss when -

“Harry!” Sirius yelled, descending on them. “Happy Christmas, you two!”

“Happy Christmas!” Harry said, laughing as Draco squeaked indignantly when Ginny, Hermione, and Luna all piled in on the hug. Draco was trying hard to look annoyed, but even Draco couldn’t stop himself from smiling when Ginny and Luna kissed his cheeks at the same time.

“Better now?” Ginny asked him when Draco managed to squirm free. Sirius chased after him, threatening to change into his dog form and lick Draco’s face all over. Hermione and Luna collapsed into giggles, and even Remus, standing in the doorway, started to laugh.

Harry smiled. “Much better.”

[frostclawdragoon]

Prompt #13: Don’t Think Twice (Extra Credit)

(Cameos by @verdantbard and @ishgard-dragoon‘s characters! Also a follow up response to @verdantbard‘s Echo Prompt. :3 )

It was always an exciting event when Khamri’a returned from… Wherever it was he would go. He never stayed in the Manor for as long as he could help it, something about not being an official member of Windsong. His excuse always made him laugh. Regardless, whenever Khamri’a went away on business or whatever he did out there in the world, Ouros would wait for him to come home, because it was always so fun when he walked in through the door.

It was always the same every time too. He’d show up at his room, Ouros would excitedly let him in, and the two would spend the rest of the day chatting about all the things they did while they were apart. Then when that was done, Ouros would gather up the latest books he’d purchased and they would go over them together. And that was exactly what happened today. Like clockwork, Khamri’a arrived at his room, Ouros let him in, they talked and then they read together into the odd hours of the night.

That is when Ouros noticed Khamri’a had dozed off.

It wasn’t uncommon for Khamri’a to snuggle up to him, he had always been a physically affectionate person, Ouros had noted, even with friends. Being affection-starved for his entire life, Ouros welcomed the closeness. It made him feel all warm, fuzzy and comfy, feelings that were becoming commonplace for him these days. So when Khamri’a laid his head on his shoulder, Ouros responded by resting his head against his, all the while reading aloud to his dear, dear friend. It wasn’t long after that did he hear the ever-so-tiny snores coming from the Keeper, and it took all of Ouros’ strength to not bubble out with laughter at how cute he sounded.

So here Ouros was, carrying the slumbering Khamri’a down the hall on his back with a delighted, hopeless smile on his face as he approached the Keeper’s bedroom. He didn’t want to move him in fear of disturbing his sleep, but he was a man of respect, and also felt it better for Khamri’a to sleep in his own room after a long trip away from home.

It took him a bit to open the door with his arms occupied with keeping Khamri’a on his back, and it was a time for him trying to navigate the unlit interior -- he always had such a time trying to see in the dark. Once he finally made it to the bed, he carefully slid Khamri’a onto the mattress and gently tucked him under a blanket or two. When it looked like Khamri’a was safe and comfortable enough for a good nights rest, Ouros smiled softly with adoration at the slumbering miqo’te, and gently reached over to brush the hair out from his face as a silent goodnight gesture.

It was when the back of his fingertips brushed along Khamri’a’s cheek that a sudden shock of excruciating pain shot through Ouros’ head. He winced away, his eyes pinching shut as his hand grabbed at his face and he grunted in agony. Flashes of memories, of a childhood, of a girl, of love, of pain, of regret, heartbreak, anger. It flooded his mind quickly, overwhelming him with emotions and visions of a life that was not his own.

When he snapped back to reality, he gasped in air like he had just breached the ocean’s surface, and nearly tumbled over onto the floor. He steadied himself quickly by grabbing onto the edge of Khamri’a’s bed while simultaneously covering his mouth to silence himself from making any further noises. His eyes wide with frightened confusion, he looked at the Keeper who slept the night away, none the wiser to what had just transpired.

Ouros fled the room as quickly, and quietly, as he could.

With trembling knees, Ouros made his way down the hallway using the wall as a guide, desperately trying to shake off the lingering effects of the Echo. His mind was a jumbled mess as it was, to add someone else’s complex emotions and past into the mix was enough to give him vertigo. He needed to sort this out, to figure out what exactly he saw, and why he saw it. And he needed to understand why now, of all times, did Hydaelyn decide it was a good time to invade Khamri’a’s privacy? To invade his past and feelings without his permission?

He stumbled again and quickly caught his footing by flopping his back against the wall he had been using as a guide. He waited there, completely still, until he was sure he could safely stand up. When the dizziness faded and he was able to stand upright again, his gaze then settled on a familiar door across from him. Silian’s door. Rayana’s door. Without hesitation, he moved toward it quickly and knocked lightly.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time louder, still no answer. Desperation set in as his anxiety climbed higher and higher. He opened the door slowly, the light of the hall illuminating the dark room just a tiny bit. He slipped inside, leaving the door ajar so he could see somewhat as he crept across the room. Reaching the bed, he knelt down, trying to see the petite, scaled auri form of Rayana. Which he was, thankfully, able to find. She was snuggled down in the massive elezen arms of Silian, barely visible with her face mushed into his chest and the blankets up to her horns. If not for the spots of green hair lying haphazardly behind her to give her position away in the extremely dim light, Ouros might never have spotted her.

He reached over and gingerly shook her shoulder, hoping to rouse only her and not the loud peacock of a man beside her. A few light shakes, and she stirred; a pair of bright, glowing green eyes opened toward him within the darkness.

“Ro-chan…?” Rayana whispered in tired confusion.

“I-I’m sorry to wake you, but--…” Ouros whispered back. “I need to talk to you.”

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

Ouros had led Rayana out of the Manor and down to the lake at the base of the Lavender Beds, where he began pacing about anxiously as the tired au ra sat herself down on a bench. He could feel her watching him, and he knew she could see how panicked he was, but he wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t sure where to even start explaining why his anxiety was running haywire.

“What is wrong?” Rayana finally asked after a long few minutes of watching him nervously walking back and forth.

Ouros stopped. He looked at her, then down to his hands that fiddled about idly. After a moment of weighing the pros and cons of revealing the truth to her, he sighed and made his way over to the bench to plop down beside her, his head falling into his hands.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He murmured loudly.

“Start from the beginning then.” Rayana said.

The beginning?... They’d be out here all night if he started from the beginning. Still, he needed someone to talk to, someone to help him pick this vision apart and help him sort everything out, and he trusted Rayana with everything. She had become his big sister in a lot of ways, and he leaned on that whenever he was troubled with something Khamri’a related.

And this was definitely Khamri’a related. He made a noise of discomfort, not wanting to get into too many specifics out of respect for Khamri’a’s privacy... But he needed help, and knew she could keep a secret.

“... So I have a special power.” He started as he leaned back, his hands running down his face. “This power lets me see the future and the past of people I meet or know, and lets me feel their emotions to understand them, but it’s random and I have no control over it or when it happens.”

“You can see the past and the future...?” Rayana asked, her voice and expression in pure awe.

“Yes. It’s a complicated matter, one I don’t want to get into right now.” He looked at her. “I just needed to tell you that so you can understand when I say that I--... Saw Khamri’a’s past, just before I came to wake you up.”

The look of shock and surprise on Rayana’s face made him want to laugh, not out of amusement, but more of hopelessness at the situation he had found himself in. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees while he stared at the grass below his feet.

“I didn’t want to. I would have much preferred if he told me about his past himself. But unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice… And I saw… Felt… So many terrible, terrible things.” His expression grimaced to the pain weighing heavy on his chest. “I knew he had a past, one that broke him and made him cold, I just--... I didn’t know--”

He felt Rayana’s hand touch his shoulder reassuringly, and he shut his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly at the tight pain in his chest. He felt awful telling her this, even with how vague he was being. This was Khamri’a’s life he was just spewing out to her, and without his permission...

“... He suffered in silence, kept it bottled away.” He buried his face into his hands. “I don’t even know how to process any of what I’ve seen. Just that it hurt--... It hurt so bad, and there isn’t anything I can do to help him. He’s in so much pain and feels so much anger and I can’t stop it.”

“I always suspected Neko-chan’s past to be one full of much sorrow.” Rayana said as she turned her gaze downward. “He always had that air to him… Especially with how distant he could be.” She looked back to Ouros. “But regardless of how hopeless you may feel right now, you are helping him through his pain! You are his friend, and that is what he truly needs right now.”

“He wants to kill Khito.”

There was an awkward pause that hung in the air.

“... I mean… I am sure a lot of the members in Windsong wish to kill Khito, or at the very least, punch his face in severely.” Rayana said, suddenly.

Ouros whipped around to look at her, stunned. She raised her hands in defense.

“Not me!” She exclaimed. “I know he was your best friend and I do not want extreme harm to come to him!” Ouros frowned at the fact she only said extreme pain. Her too?

Rayana’s hands lowered slightly. “But you must understand that their anger toward him is from the fact Khito nearly killed you... If we had not found you under the rubble...”

“He doesn’t deserve to die for that.”

“And I agree. And I am, by no means, not justifying Neko-chan’s vengeful thoughts on the matter either, but… You are important to Windsong, and very important to him. It’s only natural they want to protect you from those who seek to do you harm. Especially after how we found you that day.”

Ouros turned away from her again and sighed heavily, a hand running through his hair. “This is why I didn’t want anyone to know he existed… The worst part is, I can’t talk Khamri’a out of this, I can save him from this darkness because he’ll know I saw into his past and--...”

“And...?”

“He’ll want to know what else I saw…” He answered, his head hanging low.

“What else did you see?”

Ouros tensed slightly. “... He loved--... Somebody. Still loves her, I think… And knowing how private he is, I don’t think those were feelings he ever wanted to come to light.”

He heard Rayana hmm and he peered at her out of the corner of his eye. She was tapping idly at her chin.

“While one does not forget their first love, I do not think he loves her as much now…” She said aloud with a thoughtful tone.

“Except I felt it, Rayana.” Ouros turned to face her fully. “My power lets me feel what another person feels, to understand them and the intentions behind their actions. He loves this woman with all his heart--...”

His voice trailed off as his mind wandered back to the visions. The feelings that Khamri’a had for Caoimhe, how strong they were and how fond he was of her. He loved her dearly, and wanted nothing more than to see her happy and safe. To protect her from the man that had wrongfully abused and crushed her heart. To ensure that man never, ever hurt her again, that he was willing to kill that man…

And then he remembered how the very same things applied to the visions involving himself. The fondness, the want to protect, the desire to ensure that no one would ever hurt him again. The want for vengeance against the one who broke his heart.

Ouros stared distantly as his eyes went wide with gradual understanding, and he could see Rayana’s head tilt in confusion at his long silence of shock. His mind was racing, going back to every moment, every talk, every gesture, every smile and laugh, every gift left behind in his room. Everything after the Ghimlyt Dark, everything on Norvrandt, every last second spent with Khamri’a. It all clicked.

“Ro-chan…?” Rayana asked, her voice soft and careful as though she were afraid to frighten him.

Ouros didn’t answer. He couldn’t remember how. His mind just shut off, his ears ringing loud, his heart pounding so hard and his stomach churning in the worst way possible. There was no way… No… None of that made sense, it couldn’t make sense, there was no sense to be had!... Except it did make sense. He saw it, felt it, he understood Khamri’a and the feelings behind his intentions. But he couldn’t register it, he couldn’t grasp it. There wasn’t any possible way that--... There couldn’t be! It’s impossible--!

“Ro-chan?” Rayana asked again, this time leaning forward with worry. “Are you okay…?”

“He loves me…” Ouros answered, finally, his gaze still distant as he traversed the memories flooding his mind. “Khamri’a loves me.”

Rayana leaned away, her own eyes growing wide with shock. “W--... What? How did you--?”

Ouros turned away from her again, his eyes darting about as if to find the answer he sought in the grass below. He didn’t even acknowledge Rayana’s shock at his discovery.

“But why?" He asked to no one in particular. “Why would--? Why would he ever see me as anything other than a nuisance? I’m obnoxious, I’m terrible, a waste of energy! I--!”

The more memories surfaced, the more overwhelmed Ouros became. He could feel the hot stinging of tears in his eyes, and his chest swelled with a pain so great he’d stopped breathing. He wasn’t worthy of any kind of love, he had accepted this long ago when he looked into his mother’s eyes and saw only disgust and frustration. So the idea that anyone could love him unconditionally sounded fake, false, unreal.

Except he felt it. He knew it wasn’t fake. He knew it was real.

Ouros covered his mouth with his hand, squeezing his jaw slightly as the tears in his eyes poured over. His emotions were all over the place. He was terrified and sick, but also overwhelmed with excitement? Or joy? Relief? He didn’t know what he was feeling specifically, just that it was happening all at once. For a brief second, he thought he might explode.

“Are you going to be alright, Ro-chan?” Rayana asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder again to lightly shake him out of whatever mind-cage he was in.

Ouros jumped at her touch and looked at her, the confusion he felt ever present on his expression. “Did you know?” He asked.

Rayana stared for a moment, then gave him a soft, sad smile. “... I did… I think I figured it out before he even did. He always treated you with a different kind of softness, one not unlike the way Sillyman treats me.”

“How long?”

“I think before Norvrandt--”

“That long?” 

When Rayana nodded, Ouros lowered his head slightly, his mind still running a million malms a second. All this time… All this time he thought Khamri’a felt the exact opposite. That his feelings would go forever unreturned, unrecognized, ignored. That no one in their right mind would ever love a sick and broken mess of a man incapable of shutting his mouth for more than two seconds. And yet, here he sat, his deep rooted belief shattered in a single instant. That his mother, his tribe, his own thoughts were proven wrong. Someone out in the world really did love him, and there was no way for anyone to prove otherwise because the feeling was there.

A sudden feeling formed in his stomach, replacing that sick feeling with something else. An urge. A need.

He… He had to tell him…! He had to tell him how he felt, he needed to know that he was loved too! That he wasn’t alone--!

…

No… No he couldn’t.

This knowledge wasn’t meant for him, he only happened upon it because of the Echo, not because Khamri’a wanted him to know. If he went to Khamri’a right now and confessed everything, even his own feelings, he would surely chase him off. Khamri’a was a broken man, one who had his heart shattered in ways Ouros was far too familiar with. So he knew. He knew he had to be careful, that such a topic was not to be treated lightly, no matter how much his heart yearned to finally be heard and free. No matter how badly he wanted to hold Khamri’a tightly and tell him how much he loved him.

It was one thing to be told you would never leave, that you would be at their side no matter what, that their heart was safe… And another thing entirely to firmly, deeply believe in it. His own experience with the Echo just seconds before this realization was proof of that. He was still struggling to believe in the idea that someone could love him, despite having felt the emotions himself.

Khamri’a hadn’t had a chance to know Ouros’ feelings, not in the way that Ouros knew his. Given what he saw in that vision, how he felt for Caoimhe, Khamri’a probably let himself believe he wasn’t deserving of Ouros’ affection or attention, or that he would likely be replaced by someone who was far better… Even though there was no one better, but he didn’t know that. Or rather… Didn’t believe it.

… He doesn’t believe…

... That’s it!

“Thank you.” Ouros said as he stood up suddenly, catching Rayana off guard. “I think I know what I am supposed to do now.”

“Eh?” Rayana tilted her head again, still hopelessly lost about everything happening right now. “What do you mean?”

He looked at Rayana and smiled weakly, the confusion in his expression gradually shifting to resolve. “I know how I can help Khamri’a, to make him stop hurting.”

“You--... You do? How?” She asked.

“You’ll see…!” His smile grew. “I’ll see you tomorrow! And thanks again!”

Rayana stood up to ask further questions, but was too late. Ouros had already sprinted off, shaking off the last of his pent up energy from the anxiety he had been feeling for most of that conversation. Though the overwhelming confusion had not left him, nor the worry for Khito’s life being in danger, he at least now knew what he had to do, and was mentally preparing himself for his most difficult challenge yet.

He had to help Khamri’a believe.

[ruthoakenshield]

Worthless Little Shadow (chapter 1)

You woke in pain and heard voices quietly talking around you. You were afraid and didn't open your eyes. 

"Hey, Fili, come help me load this into the wagon." someone said. Suddenly a bright light shone on your face. Light you could see through your closed eyelids. It was so bright it made your head ache.

"Look out Ki! There's someone there!" another lower voice said as you heard a 'Thump' of something heavy being set down on wood.

"What have we got here? The lower voice said.

You felt someone grab your shoulder and give you a gentle shake. You moaned at the pain in your shoulder but didn't move or open your eyes.

"It's a Dwarrowdam, but look!  Her hair is cut short! And she's injured! Fi, go get Dwalin!" the slightly higher voice said.

You laid there afraid to move.

"It's all right, sweetheart, don't move. You're safe now. We'll help you and bring you someplace safe so you can get better." the voice said as a hand brushed hair from your face. 

You felt something soft being placed against the side of your head and felt slight pressure being put on it. You moaned from the pain.

You heard multiple footsteps and the light disappeared. You felt someone unbuttoning your shirt enough that it could be pulled for them to see your shoulder. 

A gruff voice said, "It's dislocated, she's been here a while, look at the deep bruises." 

"What do you think happened to her, Dwalin?" the voice next to you asked. 

Dwalin looked up and saw the edge of the embankment was lined with shrubs and saplings. "Look, see where those bushes' branches are broken..." you heard the gruff voice say.

"She must've fallen down the embankment and landed against the water barrel and knocked herself out. The fall probably dislocated her shoulder." he replied. "That must be where she fell from." he said pointing at the bush line.

"Let me check her for other injuries." an older voice said and you heard movement beside you. 

You felt a gentle hand press around on your torso and legs. You occasionally moaned when the hand pressed on a tender spot, but you didn't cry out.

"She has some bruised ribs, but other than that it's just scrapes and cuts from the gravel." the older voice said. "Dwalin, help sit her up and hold her so I can get this shoulder set back in place." the older voice said. 

You heard a grunt, then felt large, strong hands slide under you and lift you into a sitting position. You moaned at the movement, but kept your eyes closed. You felt your head loll to the side as he tilted you to lean your good side against him. 

You heard the older voice tell him where to hold you and he carefully did so. Suddenly you felt a strong pair of hands on your shoulder and felt it jerk. A white flash of pain shot through your shoulder and you cried out in pain and then slumped against the body that held you. 

 Dwarves

Kili and Fili were helping to pack the camp up when they found your limp body slumped against the water barrel when they went to lift it up into the wagon. They became increasingly worried when they realized you were a dwarrowdam, your black hair was shorn to your shoulders, and were injured and unconscious.

They both squatted down next to you and Kili gently shook your shoulder. When you moaned, they were relieved to see you weren't dead. Kili sent Fili to go get Dwalin, who came with Oin to see what was going on.

Dwalin was annoyed because they were already late in getting the caravan moving. It had taken longer to get the caravan moving out of the Blue Mountains than they had originally thought. They were several days behind schedule after traveling for a month, and Dwalin wanted to get them caught up. 

When he came around the corner, though and saw your body, he knew the boys weren't pranking him this time. He knelt beside Kili, who was holding a bloody cloth against the side of your head. Your black hair was matted with blood at the temple and hairline.

He looked up at Fili and nodded. Fili unbuttoned your shirt down just far enough to reveal a very bruised shoulder that looked to be out of place. He glanced up at Oin who nodded. "It's dislocated, and she has been here for a while, look at the deep bruises." Dwalin said and Oin nodded.

Oin checked the rest of your body for injuries, but determined aside from the bruised ribs, and the gash on your temple and the dislocated shoulder, that you were fine. 

He instructed Dwalin to sit you up and he set your shoulder back in place. You cried out at the pain and blacked out, slumping into Dwalin. He carefully picked you up and followed Oin to the Healing wagon. He was surprised at how light and thin you were despite you being a dwarrowdam. He frowned and wondered where you came from and why you were so thin. 

They got to the Healing wagon and Kili and Fili jumped up into the wagon. He handed you to them. They too were surprised at how light and thin you were for being a dwarrowdam. Fili placed you on one of the beds in the wagon then hopped down. 

"Kee, stay with her and make sure she is safe if we get attacked." Dwalin ordered. Kili nodded and Fili went to get Kili's pack and pony. He handed Kili his pack and tied his pony to the back of the wagon. He found your pack near where they found you and handed it to Kili as well.

Once everyone was ready, they set out once more for Erebor.

***********

You were in and out of consciousness for the next few days. Oin or another dwarf in the caravan would wake you and help you drink water or broth. Oin had bandaged your arm to your chest so you wouldn't try to use it as the shoulder healed. Your clothes had been removed at some point and you now wore a dark pair of loose pants and a dark 'peasant top' styled shirt that laced up the neckline to close or open it as needed. Your head was bandaged and your left eye was swollen and hard to see out of. 

You felt miserable. Much to Oin's annoyance you refused to talk. If he asked you 'yes/no' questions, you would reply with a slow move of your head, but otherwise you didn't talk.

No one knew who you were, so they just decided to call you "Lass" for the time being. Except Fili and Kili. They decided to call you "Shadow" because all the clothing in your pack were dark colors when they looked.

Fili had found your pack a little ways away from where they found you before they had left. He brought it over to the wagon and handed it to Kili. He must've been digging in it because you recognized the clothes you were now in as the ones you usually slept in. 

The days dragged on and to pass the time, Kili and Fili would take turns throughout the day sitting with you and telling you stories. After a week, Oin said you were well enough to ride with them on their ponies. He forbade you from walking while they moved along the trail, only when they stopped to camp for the night did he let you walk around a bit.

Slowly he reintroduced solid foods to you as your stomach tolerated. You overheard him talking with Dwalin one night about how thin you were and from the condition of your skin and hair, he guessed you had been malnourished for some time. 

You sighed as you sat between the two brothers. They followed you everywhere and rarely let you out of their sight. They were kind and treated you well. Always offering to help when they saw you struggling. Fili always helped you with your clothes and boots, Kili would help cut your food for you when you needed and they took turns riding with you on the pony. After the first day of riding, they decided to let you stay on the same pony, and they would do the switching instead of the other way around. 

Night time was the worst for you though. You were always the middle of their sleeping sandwich and they would constantly wake you when Fili would steal your blankets and Kili would get cold and snuggle up to you. You often found yourself their pillow by morning and would always wake up tired. They never understood why you were that way and the only consolation for you was that you could sleep against them as they rode with you on their ponies. 

 After two weeks, Oin allowed you to walk with the rest of the dwarves. You tended to stay near the back of the group so as to evade questions and conversation. It concerned Oin and Dwalin and the two brothers how you shied away from the dwarves and kept to yourself.

When you started having to walk, you had decided to sleep by yourself. Since now you could not nap during the day to catch up on sleep you lost at night. At first, the brothers were upset, but Dwalin scolded them and told them to let you be. You missed their body heat and often shivered where you lay. They would notice how tired you were after the first few days of you walking, and soon you found yourself covered in an extra blanket or cloak when you'd wake in the morning. You never knew who was doing it, but you were grateful. 

Once you could eat solid food again, you found the cook giving you more than the others. When you asked why, he just shrugged. You struggled to eat it all, but didn't want to offend them by not finishing it. You would eat till you were full, then save the rest for later on in the evening. By the time you fell asleep, your bowl would always be empty. And each morning you would find it washed and setting next to your pack with your spoon and knife.

A month after joining the caravan, you were fully healed. You still did not talk though and still kept to yourself for the most part. You developed a routine of walking around for a little while to find soft ground cover to put under your bedroll, and would fill your water skin, if there was a source nearby.

Then you'd sit on your bedroll and watch the fire or observe the goings on in the camp. You began to notice people's patterns and would adjust yours so as to not interfere.

Occasionally you helped the cook with serving the meals. You usually were the one holding the bowls as he filled them and then would hand them back to their owners. You always kept your head bowed and rarely looked anyone in the eyes. You also made sure you were the last one to eat since you were helping to serve to the others. You tried your best to be as little a nuisance and burden as possible to the dwarves who took you into their caravan. 

Little did you know, someone was observing you and learning your quirks and patterns of behavior. When that someone saw you needed something, they always made sure you had it by morning and were careful to leave it for you when you wouldn't see them do so.

[monokrxme]

obe | kim namjoon

what would you do if you woke up in someone else’s body?

••••••••••••••••••

I can say this now after finishing the promotions...I felt powerless.

But we said to ourselves, like a spell,

"We should be happy"

"We have to smile"

I said that to the members over and over again,

"If we don't, our fans will lose their drive, and their passion"

Well about the concert...

It's tough I feel powerless. We prepared a lot of things in order to focus on us. We practiced incredibly hard. We feel frustrated.

This time, I feel so sad and frustrated for not being able to see you all in person.

It was tough...

It will be tough, for the time being, but....

I love you.

I love you deeply,

I love you all so much, to the furthest extent of what I know about love and what is possible...

•••••••••••••••••••••

I sighed softly as Namjoon ended the VLIVE with a soft "I love you all" and his signature good-bye kiss to ARMYs. I exited out the app, going through my app notifications and turning off the ones from Twitter for the night since those always go off the most while I'm asleep.

Once that was finished I plugged my phone in on the charger, set it beside my pillow and rolled over onto my right side, snuggled in the blankets as I tried to go to sleep.

But that was the issue. I couldn't.

Namjoon's words kept ringing in my head and I couldn't help but let my eyes shed a few tears; they too were so upset and frustrated that they could not show ARMYs everything that they had prepared for this long-awaited comeback.

Due to the rampant spread of the COVID-19 virus, many countries have taken precautions in order to prevent the spread of the illness. Some of these precautions have included limiting travel in and outside of said countries, as well as a limit or cancellation of public events in an attempt for people to avoid large crowds.

Because of this when it came to performance shows, artists had to perform without live audiences. To know that the boys missed ARMYs as much as we missed them tore my heart apart.

They have always given their all for ARMYs and have often been much too hard on themselves if they felt they had "failed" or disappointed us in some way. We always did our best to reassure them but BTS always felt the need to try harder for us in an effort to redeem themselves. It was as if they wanted to reaffirm the strong bond that ARMYs shared with them...

If only they knew truly how much we loved and supported them. Mistakes and all.

I sighed heavily as my heart filled with discontent at the thought of the boys being unhappy, but they were human too and were entitled to their emotions and desires just as much as anyone else was.

Hell, ARMY would argue they deserved the entire world and then some, fuck, the entire damn universe. I smiled softly at that thought, me being one of the millions of our beautiful family who also believed this and allowed my eyes to close as my eyelids grew heavy and droopy, sleep washing over me slowly like an incoming tide.....

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

.......it felt lukewarm to the touch. Comfortable and inviting as it enveloped my body and slowly drew it from the shore and into the wide expanse of ocean......

......it was quiet, the nature kind of quiet, where you hear the soft lull of crickets and night bugs calling to each other, the distant hoot of an owl, prowling for its next meal, the gentle ocean breeze caressing the skin that was exposed to the air, whistling softly in my ears......

.......my nostrils tingled at the sharp, salty scent of the ocean, my body rocking to the rhythm of the baby waves that carried me further away from the shoreline.......

Y/N: 《Well this is lovely, my dreams have never looked like this before.....so calm and serene...》

My eyes flew open as I realized I had spoken this out loud to myself, though softly, as if not to disturb anyone. And by anyone I meant the delicateness of the quiet solitude that enveloped me ever so generously.

It was then I also realized that I was no longer in the comfort of my bed at home, but actually floating in the middle of the ocean, which had drawn me out several hundred yards away from the shore. My heart started to pick up speed in my chest as panic slowly set into my mind, my sense of reason and calm collectness fighting against it viciously.

Y/N: 《Don't panic Y/N. Nothing good comes from panicking...the real question is how I got here in the first place...?》

I thought this to myself as I swallowed nervously, my mouth having built up saliva quite suddenly from my anxiousness.

And yet, just as quickly as I had felt the lump of panic forming in my throat and my limbs growing rigid from fear, it was immediately washed away once my eyes glanced up at the sky.

It was a breathtaking sight; not a single cloud in the sky, the color of a deep, rich blue-black ink, splattered with millions upon millions of twinkling white stars, like dazzling jewels that shimmered in the sunlight. But what was most stunning was the moon; it was full and shining magnificently, the white gleaming starkly against the soft hues of the gray that scattered its surface, a soft moonlight cascading down gently to sparkle on the surface of the water.

I was so enamored by this astonishing nighttime scene, as if it were something out of a movie. A rom-com to be exact, where the moonlight seems to bring out the deepest, hidden desires of intimacy that the protagonists yearn to share with one another. Even though those scenes were cheesy, they were always my favorite ones and always managed to bring a tears to my eyes.

I smiled softly, allowing my eyes to languidly follow the moonlight's path, basking in its afterglow, when my eyes widened in shock and disbelief; where the light ended exposed yet another floating body in the water. This person was also still, but since they were a couple yards off, I couldn't tell if they were conscious or not.

Instinct kicked in and before I knew it, I was swimming towards them, with a purpose but not to disturb the tranquility of the atmosphere around us. For all I knew, even if this was a dream, if this person awoke in a panic they'd drown in seconds. Once I did manage to catch up to them, their body had floated out of the moon's glow, thus their face was obscured in the dark where the light couldn't reach.

Keeping my legs in motion underwater to keep me afloat, I gently grabbed this person's hand and slipped my other one under the water to firmly grip their ankle and pull them into the light to identify them.

It was as I crept closer to the light I realized I was nude. Stark naked. And so was this person, who I was able to see was a male, and you can assume why.

With a burning cheeks and a flustered state, I finally managed to pull this unknown man into the luminescence of the moon. When I looked at his face my heart stopped, literally, it was as if the wind were knocked out of me and I had forgotten how to breathe.

It was none other than Kim Namjoon, otherwise known as RM of BTS. Naked. Wet. And glimmering in the limelight of the moon, in the middle of an ocean that I wasn't even sure was real or not.

It was suddenly very cold as a wave of goosebumps crawled across my flesh, the blood roaring in my ears as I stared at him, wide-eyed and in awe, my heart thumping crazily in my chest as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

Y/N: 《T-There's no way.....I MUST be dreaming. There is no way in hell Kim Namjoon is floating in the middle of the ocean, naked at that, in front of me...》

I hugged my arms to cover my exposed chest, my body shivering as a cool breeze blew through, lifting some of Namjoon's hair up and away from his face. My heart fluttered momentarily, which I tried to deduce as being a fangirl's-heart-flutter, but I couldn't help but smile softly; he looked so peaceful. Calm. Serene. Without a concern, worry, or responsibility on his mind. His dragon's eyes now delicate slits as his eyes fluttered slightly behind his closed eyelids, his cute little button nose looking bedazzled under the moonlight, his plump, luscious lips, parted slightly as he breathed softly in his slumber, his toned chest rising and falling with each rhythmic inhale and exhale.

Without a thought I quietly took his hand that had been floating listlessly by his side; despite the water having gotten cooler, his hands were warm and inviting. His long, delicate fingers and large palms set on elegant wrists.

It was, as soon as I my fingers grazed his, that his eyelids fluttered open.

Our gazes locked and my heart stopped momentarily once more, but this time, began beating again, slowly and deeply. The sensation overwhelmed me, but in a good way. I wasn't scared, but rather tranquil, as if a huge, unknown weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

His fingers, unexpectedly, interlocked with mine once he sensed my hand in his through the water. I felt this instant shock throughout my entire body, pinpricks of electricity sparking at my fingertips and flooding throughout my body with a soft buzz. He inhaled sharply, which told me he felt it too.

When our eyes meet, something unfamiliar flashed across his gaze, as if he knew me but couldn't remember who I was.

Y/N: 《That's impossible. He's not going to know who I am. He's an international superstar a part of the biggest boyband in the world right now. I'm only a fan out of millions more, he won't----》

NJ: Y/N?

My eyes widened in shock as I heard Namjoon's voice fill my head, cutting off my thoughts.

But before I could ask him how he knew my name, I felt my body being submerged under the coolness of the water, a bright white light flooding my vision and then..........darkness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

My eyes shot open again as I gasped for air, my arms waving frantically in front of me as I tried to catch my breathe.

My heart was hammering in my chest as my breathe came out ragid, as if someone had just resuscitated me after drowning. I sighed heavily as I felt my hair was drenched in sweat, dripping down the back of my neck. I rubbed my face with my hands momentarily when....

Y/N: 《These.....aren't my hands....!!!》

My eyes shot open, my heart stopping momentarily as I held "my" hands in front of me.

I was right.

My hands were smaller and more pudgy/slim, not these large, palms with....with delicate fingers......on elegant wrists.......

I leapt out of my bed, feeling an.....appendage that has never been there before, hit my leg, my hand, even though it wasn't mine, flying to cover my mouth in shock and disbelief at the sensation.

Y/N: 《Was that a...I mean my.....di-?? No. There's no way. I must still be dreaming. That's right, I just need to go along with it that's all, maybe even throw some water on my face to wake the real me up....yeah, that'll do the trick....》

I straightened myself out and inhaled deeply, walking towards an open door that I only presumed was the bathroom. Luckily I was right and walked in, leaving the light off for a few minutes as I washed my face, since I had just "woken up." Then, reaching along the right-hand side of the wall to find the switch, my fingers latched onto it, flipping the notch upwards, allowing light to flood the bathroom.

I raised my eyes to look in the mirror, half expecting to either see myself or this made up person my dream turned me into while I was actually still sleeping, like I believed.

I had to cover my, well his mouth to stop myself from screaming out loud.

The person staring back at me, in all of his fine ass glory, was none other than Kim Namjoon. Tall, dimpled, long hair and all.

With shaky hands I grasped the sink countertop and leaned forward, blinking several times to see if the reflection staring back at me would change.

Nope.

I even tried pinching myself, well him, until I brought tears to my-his eyes, the pain blossoming across my-his skin......

《The fact that I could feel the pain already explains it.....I'm NOT dreaming....this is real.....yet so fucking unreal......how the FUCK did I end up becoming Kim Namjoon???? IQ 148 genius? Dance Prodigy? Talented rapper, writer, producer, and composer? Leader of the Bangtan Sonyeondan???》

......................

《Could it have been---???》

Then it dawned on me. Memories of the "dream" I experienced last night flooded my mind. The ocean. The night sky. The moon. Seeing Namjoon's body, swimming to him, bringing him under the moonlight. Holding his hand. He woke up and our eyes met, electricity sparked when we touched and then I was suddenly deep under water and there was this flash of white light and-

"Now I'm here," I said out loud, but it wasn't my voice, but the deep, sultry tone of Kim Namjoon's.

I licked my- well Namjoon's lips, nervously.

"D-Did we-?"

Y/N: 《Switch bodies?》

[ohtheseboysilove]

The sunflower always finds its sunlight VI [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 3, 400 K +

Warnings : language, alcohol,, angst, eating disorders, drugs

Summary :  Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time,  Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

🌼Requests are open🌼☀ Masterlist ☀

“What the fuck is going on in here?” You jolted at the sudden yelling in the room, your eyes opening widely to find a rather piss off Nina. “Care to explain Roger ? Fucking pig !” She shouted angrily and you quickly stumbled out of the bed, cheeks turning crimson, knowing very well how the scene looked like from the outside.

“Wait, dove, it’s not what you think !” Roger jumped out the bed where a minute earlier the both of you were cuddling cosily into each other’s arms, snoring quietly. “Nina, let me explain !” He ran after her, pleading for her to listen his explanations.

You were beyond embarrassed. God, nothing happened but you still felt like in sort way, you betrayed Nina. She was a nice girl and now she was certainly hating you to going a little too comfy with her boyfriend. Maybe you just broke their couple, you hoped no. The memories of the night before were a bit clouded but you were sure absolutely nothing between Roger and you happened...well almost nothing.

Flash back :

You were walking, well, rather stumbling on the pavement, your legs quavering lightly due to your state. You were already regretting to have left Roger, you were freezing your ass, your jacket still into the club somewhere and honestly, it wasn’t safe to walk all by yourself, high and in the middle of the night when you were a woman. You wandered in the street for a good ten-minutes, heart beating so quickly against your ribcage, every shadow was scaring you and you didn’t catch any taxi yet. You were sweating as you were going down from your high, making you slightly paranoiac and after five more minutes of total nonsense walking, you sat on the side-walk, panting heavily and cheeks soaked by your tears. You didn’t even know why you were crying but it was certainly the last time you were doing hard drugs.

��Let’s go home, love hum ?” You raised your head quickly to find Roger’s round eyes  looking down at you. He crouched at your level, draping his jacket on your shoulders and gently hold you for a minute.

“I thought you left” You murmured with a shaky voice, head buried into Roger’s warm and familiar chest, your arms wrapped around his back like a koala bear. Your mind were going crazy, head spinning and weird shiverings flying through your system.

“You really thought I was going to leave you walk home in your state ? At four in the morning ? Not chance, love” He helped you stand up on your wobbling legs, his large palms wrapped around your waist as he gently guided you to the main street where you where coming from, waving one of the cab waiting in front of the club. “Mind your head, love” You slid into the back seat, your fingers spasmed violently onto your lap, you hated how you were going down from your high, it was a real nightmare.

You were a tad surprise to see him sat next to you, pushing your head back on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing to do in the world. And, damn it, it felt like that.

“How you’re feeling, love ?” His whispered into your hairs, his hand gently rubbing your knees as you were shaking against him, eyes firmly shut to avoid the spinning.

“Horrible” You cried against his chest as the drummer grabbed your fingers, massaging softly to stop your incessant curling, making your hand sore. “m’ feeling so strange Rog, my whole body ‘s so heavy” You just wanted everything to stop.

“I know, love, that what happened when you going down from your high, first times are always awful” The taxi pulled off and after Roger handed to the driver money. “m’ gonna take care of you, let’s go” You almost tripped on your own feet as soon as you were out of the car, your legs completely out of order. “Alright, c’mere wobbly little thing” He chuckled gently and put your lifeless hands around his neck before before sliding his hands under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly.

“’m sorry for what I said earlier” You murmured against his neck, his dirty locks tickling your jaw funnily. You never felt so...weird, like you were into a bubble and Roger’s was the only thing which was keeping you on the ground. “I do need you Roger, more than I should” You confessed into your dizzy state, Roger’s breath itching in his throat at your words. And at the light contact of your lips against his delicate skin of his neck.

“Don’t worry (Y/N), I got you” He tightened his embrace and carried you to the door, fighting a bit with the locker before opening the house door. “Here we are, I’m gonna bring you a glass of water, love” He gently dropped you on his bed and quickly walked off to the kitchen.

You blinked several time, trying to clear your mind but it wasn’t working, a headache was now hitting you, making you whined pathetically.

“I feel so stupid right now” You cried as the drummer came back, handing you a fresh glass of water. “Thank you” You croaked weakly and sipped it slowly.

“I guess you learnt a lesson tonight” He gently brushed away the locks from your face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he stared at you. “Let’s put you to bed, love”  He kicked off his and your shoes before helping you sliding into one of his pyjama pants and a loosely tee-shirt. He already saw you more than once in your underpants so it wasn’t nothing new for the two of you.

“’m so cold, I’m fucking freezing” You groaned as you climbed into the bed, the drummer following closely. No one of you commented the fact that he shouldn’t sleep into the same bed as you, not when he have a girlfriend. It was wrong but neither of you decided to do something against it.

“Shit, your feet are cold, love” You were snuggling onto Roger’s chest, blanket hiding half of your face and you didn’t resist to warm up your feet on the drummer bare legs, his pyjama short only covering before the knees. “You’re shaking, poor thing” He cooed as your face disappeared into his neck like earlier, lips brushing on his skin and this time he couldn’t repress the low moan which escaped from his mouth.

You stopped moving as the sound, feeling Roger’s shifting a bit under you. He wasn’t moving either, embarrassment flushing over him. You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep, the drug or Roger’s body against yours but you pressed your lips again his skin, leaving a real kiss this time. The drummer didn’t protest but you could feel his heartbeat quickened in his chest as you kept going, your mouth gently brushing against his collarbone. His scent was so comforting, it was making you feeling like home. It was simply Roger, no word could describe that.

“(Y/N)...” He murmured in a mixing between a moan and a warning, your warm lips travelling down his throat. His eyes were completely shut under your sweet tortures, his fingers were gripping harshly on your waist, chest panting at the feeling.

“Rog, I want to kiss you” You breathed as your lips brushed on his sensitive spot right at the junction of his jaw, he moaned louder, goosebumps erupting on his arms at every touches. “Do you want me to kiss you ?” You stopped your lips at the corner of his mouth, your eyes looking for his in the darkness. Your thumb gently brush on his bottom lip, butterflies in your stomach going mad at your and the drummer’s proximity.

“’f course I do” He replied in a whisper, his wide eyes flicking between your mouth and your gaze, his mind was racing about the whole situation. “But not tonight, love. You’re high and not thinking clearly. And I have a girlfriend, it would be wrong to kiss tonight” The regret in his tone was clear, he wanted this kiss as much, maybe more than you but he was right, the timing wasn’t good. “We can talk about that tomorrow morning okay ?” The blond pressed a peck on your hairs as you nodded tiredly, head falling on his warm clothed chest.

Within a minute, you were deep asleep.

End of the flash back.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You almost kissed Roger, knowing perfectly he had a girlfriend, god you weren’t that kind of girl, never. You quickly changed back in your old clothes from last night and tiptoed out of the room, chewing your lips at Nina’s yelling.

“How I’m supposed to believe nothing happened Roger ? She was literally sleeping on you, for fuck sake !” You silently zipped your shoes on, ears reddening at the mess you just created.

“She’s is my best friend ! Of course, nothing happened !” His words hurt a little. A bit insulting too. But he told you, he won’t taking any other risk until you were sure about your feelings for him, only you and him didn’t had the time to discuss about this like you said you will. “Listen, I bring her home because she was fucking high, I don’t how she managed to take coke but she was not doing well, I couldn’t just leave her !”

“She told me she already had coke !” Nina yelled back and you heard Roger gasped loudly at her words.

“You’re the one who give her coke ? What is fucking wrong with you ?” You jumped at the anger in the drummer’s tone but Nina yelled back even louder, giving you the hint that it was time for you to leave.

**

After this horrible morning, you went back home, drowning your shame under a long and hot shower, trying to find a way to fix what you caused. You didn’t know if Roger was regretting what almost happened or if he still wanted to talk about it but for now, you couldn’t do anything about it. If he wanted to talk, he knew where you lived.

And he did show up. Around six in the afternoon, several knocks on your door woke you up. You groaned and lazily opened the door, hairs sticking in every direction.

“Roger ?” Your heart jumped in happiness at his sight, holding a massive bouquet of sunflower in his hands, timid smile curled on his face. It brought you back years ago, when he asked you out around a year after your break-up with Donovan, full of hopes before you crushed his heart. You will not make the same mistake twice. “I...what about Nina ?” You murmured with a nervous voice, praying his sudden appearance on your doorstep was the same reason than three years ago.

“I broke up with her” The drummer replied after clearing his voice, sending crazy the butterflies in your stomach. “Can I come in ?” You nodded eagerly and closed the door behind him, trying to contain your excitement. Was it really happening ? Finally ? “Go out with me” You eyes widened at his words but he kept going, his gaze diving into yours, his hands shaking a bit around the bouquet. “I know I said I would not ask you again but after these past months and yesterday...I’m giving a last go. (Y/N), I’m still in love with you and I want you, more than anything else in the world so would–“

“Yes” You cut him with crimson cheeks, heart beating so fast you were afraid to pass out. “I will go out with you, Rog” The smile on his face was the most beautiful thing you ever saw, his eyes in the roundest shape possible as how surprise he was. But definitely thrilled, a little timid yeah ? leaving his parted lips as you nodded eagerly.

“I knew seven was my lucky number” He murmured in a relief sigh. His hand dropped the flowers on the dinning table and wrapped his arms around your back, hugging you tightly. “I can’t believing this is finally happening” You smiled softly, nuzzling against his neck, savouring his scent and warmness. God you could stay like this forever. “You don’t how badly I want to kiss you right now” His whisper brought shivers down your spine and you moved away your face to look at him, lips tingling at the craving to kiss him too.

“Then do it” You murmured while your slid your hands behind his neck, fingers twisting his blond locks absent-mindedly.

“I’m a gentleman, first I’m taking out for our date and then I kiss you until I don’t have any oxygen left in my lungs” The drummer replied before pressing a kiss on the very corner of your lips before letting you go, smirking lightly.

“You’re such a tease Taylor” You grinned back.

“I waited eight years for that kiss, I can wait a little bit longer” He said as he looked at you while your were putting the sunflowers into a vase. “But only if we going on a date tonight” He added with a cheeky smile, hugging again but from behind this time, not letting you move from his embrace.

“You know you need to let me go if you want me to get ready for our date tonight” You chuckled as you laid against his chest, his lips working on your jaw, nibbling at it so softly, it was insanely good.

“One more minute” He answered against your skin, his mouth leaving light peck on every inches of your neck, his nose brushing and making you giggled. “Plus, you don’t need to get ready, you’re already perfect”

You chuckled and moved away from him, promising him you would get ready quickly. Your heart was beating so fast as you picked a simple top and pants, jumped into it before joining Roger in the living-room. He was smoking a cigarette and smiled lazily when he saw you, eyes roaming on your body with a cheeky grin.

“Beautiful” He breathed before standing up and grabbing your hand. “Ready for our first date, love ?” You could see in his eyes the sparkle of excitement and how hard he was trying to not get to eager about taking you out. You couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

**

The first ten minutes of the date had been awkward. Like if you were two total strangers trying to please each other. That was stupid, you were best friends and both of you sharing strong romantic feelings but as soon as you fought for the only wedge in your chips basket, the atmosphere immediately relaxed.

You were in one of your usual pub, you weren’t fan of fancy stuffs and Roger caved just for this time and you were both eating greasy food with a pint a beer, sharing loving gazes. You felt good. So good. Everything was so simple and easy with Rog, his hands brushing against yours from time to time, making your heart skip a beat every time.

“I was thinking...” He bowed his head toward as you chewed on your chips, tilting your head in a curious motion. “We’re soon gonna leaves for touring but when we’re done, maybe you and me could enjoy some holidays, just the two of us” You swallowed your bite and batted your lashes furiously, flustered by his sudden proposition. “I know this is a bit quick but we deserved it, don’t you think ? We had been pinning on each other for too long. I just want to spend few days, somewhere where they put little umbrella in our cocktails”

“I can’t say no to that” You murmured with a giggle, Roger’s cheeks were fully pink and he was looking damn adorable all shy. “I can certainly use some vacations” You melted at his heart-shaped eyes when you agreed, his hands gripping yours with excitation.

“Do you have a preference between the Seychelles or Bali, love ? Or maybe the Maldives ?”

You chuckled at his very serious question and shook your head with an amused smile. “I never went to any of these places so...you can pick Rog”

“Oh yeah...true” The drummer blushed a bit at his stupidity but quickly joined your laugh. “I have another thing to ask you” You hummed in interrogation, encouraging him to continue. “Can I kiss you now ?”

“Well it’s not the end of the date yet, Mr Taylor” You teased but the truth was that you were just trying to hid your nerves about all of this. Roger was about to kiss you. This was so unreal.

“You’re the devil, woman” the blond sighed and stood up. For a second you thought you maybe offended him but he showed you the notes on his hands before walking to the bar to pay. You wiped your sweat on your pants and checked if you didn’t have anything stuck in your teeth in your little mirror, god, you were so nervous. “Want to go for a walk ?” You accepted his hand and followed him outside.

You were outside of the pub, looking at each other with doe-eyes, obviously both nervous. Roger didn’t want to screw his chance with you, didn’t want to pressure you in anything and he wasn’t sure he should kiss you right now or waited for a more romantic spot rather than the middle of the pavement.

“You look so beauti–“

The drummer stopped when you gasped loudly, eyes widening in pure horror.

“What it is ?” He turned his head to follow your gaze and that he saw him. 

Donovan.

You took a step back as you saw him get out from a taxi, walking with Brian and John, laughing and patting each other backs. No. No. No. Not when you finally tried to build something with Roger. This horrible human was supposed to be in America, not here.

“I...I got to go, Roger” You felt your eyes watered at the sight of the man who destroy your life. Shivers of fear rolling down your spin, stomach churning as he came closer to the entry of the pub, still not seeing you.

“What ? No, wait, I’m coming with –“ The drummer grabbed your forearm when you tried to walk away but you violently pushing his hand away, chest panting heavily.

“Don’t touch me!” It wasn’t intentional, it was just a pure terrified reaction due to Donovan presence but the hurt in Roger’s eyes was really real. “I...can’t do that right now, I can’t see him” You chocked with shaky hands, panic attack raising throught your body.

“(Y/N), love, please, what is it ? I thought you were over Donovan, what the matter ?” This time he didn’t touch you but begged you with his gaze, he needed an explanation for your sudden behaviour. “Please, don’t leave like that”

You were sobbing now, eyes travelling between Roger and Donovan who was smoking at the entry with Brian, unaware of your presence. You didn’t answer, trying to control your breathing as you felt your chest compressing under the high anxiety. Four years after the last time you saw him, he was still so terrifying in your mind, you hated him so much.

“Are you still in love with him ?” The drummer asked after seeing you didn’t answer but was looking at your ex-boyfriend in a distress state.

You glanced at Roger, his eyes shinning with tears, persuaded he was right. And it was normal to think that, everyone thought you were still into him because you refused to speak about him even if he was still friend with the bands, the fact that you practically didn’t date anyone since the break-up was pretty suspicious too. And now you were dumping your date at the sight of your ex, Roger had every reason to be desperate.

“(Y/N)...” You shook your head when the blond extended his hand toward you with pleading eyes. You should accepted it and go home with him, explain what Donovan did to you but right now, the rational part of your brain was drowning under fear. You just wanted to get the hell away from him.

And that exactly what you did. You mouthed a I’m sorry to the drummer and ran away, ignoring Roger broken calls.

**

tag list : @amy-brooklyn99 @mercurycrowley @vanitysfairr @loveandbeloved29 @luvborhap @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @geek-and-proud @fearless2tobeme @chlobo6 @stormtrprinstilettos @mrsmazzello @neckfruit @khaleesi2017

[naerryn]

Tainted Love

01 - The Prelude

Warning! This part of the series contains smut!

The soft sigh of pleasure felt from my lips when the plump lips of the the muscular man on top of me touched the delicate skin of my throat. With a shiver running down my spine, I closed my eyes and my hands landed on his bare back.

“моя любовь.”, he whispered in a husky voice against my ear, his lips ghosted down my jawline before he caught my lips for a hungry kiss. My love, I repeated his words in my mind as I got lost in our kiss. His scent clouded my trail of thoughts and I felt one of his hands traveling along my side, before it cupped one of my breast and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Sergei.”, I moaned his name in a whisper, our kiss broke when the need for air grew much too big to be ignored any longer. A hand of mine buried itself in his dark hair and I stared into his hazel eyes, clouded with desire.

A single piece of paper would have barely fit between our lips, a hard knock echoed through the thick air. Sergei hovered above me, eyes still locked with mine before another knock at the door reached our ears.

Groaning in annoyance, Sergei lifted himself off of me and grabbed the shirt on the floor and slid into it as he crossed the master bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder, waving his hand hasty while I snuggled myself up i the blanket, barely covered myself before the door flew open.

“что случилось?”, he snapped harshly at the person on the other side of the door, his tall frame partially obscured the sight of the hallway. It was at least one of his men, hissing words to his boss which I couldn’t clearly understand. I bit my bottom lip, carefully lifting the blanket as I searched for my dress.

“I need to leave.”, Sergei spoke with a thick accent as he leaned the wooden door against the frame, his hazel eyes fixed on every of my motions as I walked naked through the room.

“Why?”, I got into a huff, bending forwards to reach for my dress while I made sure that Sergei got a good look on my rear side. I could practically feel his eyes burning against my skin.

“My men caught an intruder.”

“Another?”, I exhaled in disbelief and turned around on the spot with the dress in hands, meeting his rage filled look with a worried one. He was mad with anger, every of his muscles tensed up and hands clenched into fists.

Two days ago his men already caught an intruder, a woman, who tried to sneak herself into Sergei's study, dressed like a housekeeper. To bad that he changed the colors of the staffs uniforms three days ago, or else she would have been successful.

They brought her into the west wing of the estate, the only part of the house I was forbidden to enter without him. Back when he told me this rule, I jokingly asked Sergei if he hid a magical rose their, earning one of his rare laughs and a shook of his head.

I made quick work of getting back into the dress, rushing over to Sergei when he was about to leave the room and placed a hand on his right shoulder. His body came to a halt before he turned around to face me, which gave me the opportunity to rest my hands at the back of his neck as I stepped closer to him.

“Don’t leave me alone.”

“мое сокровище.”, he breathed out in a low tone of voice, his arms wrapped themselves around my waist and he pulled me tight against his chest. “I can’t.”, he continued to whisper against my lips. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes, biting my bottom lip teasingly.

“Please. I love watching you. All that anger.”, I purred softly, lips sealing mine as one of his hands grabbed a handful of my hair.

“ты сводишь меня с ума.”, Sergei whispered after breaking the kiss, I tilted the head to the side and looked at him with curious eyes. “You drive me crazy.”, he explained, his hand leaving my hair before he got a firm hold on one of my wrists.

“You will stay in the back.”, Sergei said, and with bare feet, I entered the long hallway outside the master bedroom.

I was coyly greeted by two of his men, Andrei and Victor, two of his security forces who had trained under him for several years. They were smart and ruthless, a dangerous combination for anyone messing with Sergei Kravinoff. Not that the man himself isn’t deadly enough.

The two guards led the way down the hallway and the air filled with Russian. I looked around the walls, admiring the pictures and decoration as I quietly listened into their conversation.

It was a man. They picked him up in the kitchen when he tried to enter the estate. He killed four of Sergei’s men before they could overpower him and put him in chains. Victor showed his boss a bow, the only notable possession of the intruder.

‘Those idiots.’, I thought to myself, forcing myself to look away from the bow as I felt my stomach twist into a tight knot. Unknowingly, I squeezed Sergei’s hand, causing him to look at me from the corner of his eyes before his attention was back on his security forces.

With a heavy heart hammering against my chest, we entered the west wing of the estate and I could already hear grunts and groans mixed with Russian curses reaching my ears.

‘Clint.’, I spoke his name in a silent prayer, glancing at Sergei as the noises grew louder. We were getting closer, and once Sergei would face the murderer of his men, he would be merciless.

“Darling.”, I spoke in a low tone of voice, his stone cold expression made my blood freeze for a split second before I found my voice again. I had to sooth his mind, or else my dear friend would face his executioner. Sergei didn’t look at me, the voices of his minions drowning my words.

I have seen him talking to intruders a handful of time, how his adamant fists repeatedly collided with the beautiful face of that red haired woman, even through she tried her best to charm him with her words and looks. He laughed at her, pointing at me and telling her that he already found his goddess, all in perfect Russian as I stood silently in a corner, acting like I didn’t understand a single word. Blood covered his knuckles, the woman spat the thick red liquid out of her mouth and an open cut adorned her left eyebrow.

She was alive when Sergei and I left the room, but only he knew what fate waited for her. Something sparked his curiosity, and he was eager to get to know who send her after him.

All the other times, the intruders weren’t so lucky. When they showed a little bit of fight left in them, Sergei would offer them a fight against him. If they would be able to knock him out, they could leave, if not, they’re dead man. None of them was able to even land a single punch. Instead, their head landed on the sharp end of a spear. Bullets pierced their limbs as they became unable to move, a last loud shot echoed through the air and live left their body. If not, he allowed them to leave, only to get one of his rifles out and chase them down through the gardens and into the nightly forest.

Sergei was cruel, merciless and deadly. That’s why S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me. Nick Fury wanted to know if his abilities could be used for a better cause. If he showed potential as an agent, or if he was to dangerous, to raw, to be of any use. That was almost a year ago, and the last four month, when I moved into the Kravinoff estate and started living with Sergei, he made it impossible for me to get in touch with my contacts. Fury must have grown impatient. Damnit.

I came to a sudden halt, not letting go of Sergei’s hand as he turned around to face me with a warning look in his hazel eyes.

“My love, what’s going on?”, I asked him innocently, closing the gap between us and leaned into his warmth as a loud scream filled the air.

“That man’s a killer. My men are preparing him for me.”, Sergei’s voice was cold, not the warm, sometimes husky tone he usually spoke to me. I moved on thin ice and I knew I had to be careful to not get caught in a crossfire.

“I am scared.”, I whispered, slowly feeling his muscles loosen up underneath my touch, his hot breath against my skin while he placed a hand under my skin, lifting my gaze to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be scared, мое сердце. I will protect you.”

This conversation was going into the wrong direction, I didn’t came around to notice. Another scream, I pressed myself even further against him and Sergei tilted his head until his forehead touched mine. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Andrei and Victor with their backs turned to us.

“Let us go back to bed, please. I need you.”, I purred lowly, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. A low growl vibrated in his throat, a hint that my new tactic was more successful.

I took a hold on one of his wrists, guiding it past the slit of my dress until his calloused fingertips brushed against my bare core, wet and slick for him. Sergei cursed under his breath and his lips caught mine hungrily.

After a successful hunt, his path led directly to me and he crushed my body under his weight, the air quickly filled with moans and the sound of skin meeting skin as a merciless pace. And we were in the middle of getting tangled into one another and turned to a messed knot of sweat covered limbs.

“Can’t this wait?”, I nodded towards the direction from where the noises came, my other hand cupped the growing bulge in his pants and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Please.”, I begged again, earning another growl until his arms flew around and within a heartbeat, I was lifted up in the air and effortlessly carried bridal style by Sergei. He told his men to not get carried away with the intruder, he would take care of him later in Russian before starting to talk in the direction of the east wing.

Barton owns me, I thought to myself as my eyes landed on the bow in Victors hands and I nudged my forehead against the crook of his neck. Before the sun rise, I had to come up with a plan to get him out of here alive.

Without a single word being said, Sergei carried me back to the master bedroom and kicked the door back into its frame. Long, striding steps brought us to the other side of the room and Sergei dropped me at the edge of the bed.

“Undress.”, he ordered sharply, while pulling off his shirt as he tugged the material over his head. His eyes barely left my sight, my hands getting the zipper on my back open and I felt the dress loosening around my skin.

A soft bang rang through the air once my dress hit the wooden floor, I found myself standing naked in front of Sergei again as he got rid of his belt with an inpatient look written across his face.

We’ve been in bed for over an hour earlier, teasing and enjoying each others company after we arrived back at the estate from a dinner in town. Now, only seconds in the bed room, Sergei’s hard cock sprung free once his trousers along with his briefs followed my dress.

I started moving back onto the bed, backed off until I reached vaguely the center of the furniture. The muscles underneath his olive brown skin moved almost sensually when Sergei climbed onto the bed, hovering his large figure over me and butterfly like kisses were placed on my skin when he was over me.

“I wanted you ever since I saw you in that dress.”, he said with a husky voice, his lips crashing down on mine and while I forced my tongue into his mouth, my mind raced with ideas on how to get Barton out of the estate.

I can’t allow Sergei to leave the room, I came to realize and one hand landed on his shoulders when I pushed him gently to the side and onto his back. Climbing on top of him, I bathed his broad chest with kisses, the average amount of hair covering it tickled lightly against my skin.

My swollen, sensitive clit rubbed delicately against his thick cock, creating enough friction to keep both of us entertained while not being to eager. This was a marathon, and I had to make sure that Sergei would pass out soon after he’s finished.

Kissing down his stomach and along his hips, the fingers of one of my hands wrapped themselves around his length, starting to rub it at a slow, steady pace. He moaned under my touch, my tongue flicked over the head of his cock. I tasted a salty drop of precum, humming softly.

Sergei cursed under his breath again, one of his strong hands landing on the back of my head and he with a fistful of my hair, he forced my mouth down onto his cock. I choked lightly as he the head of his length hit the back of my mouth, a faint curtain of tears covered my view while Sergei began to rock his hips back and forth. His hand in my hair made sure that I won’t flinch away.

Fingernails of one hand dug into the delicate skin of his thighs, the other one firmly pressed on the mattress for balance while my eyes searched for his, but his attention was fully on his cock buried in my mouth.

Once he’s asleep, I have to take care of the guards. Thinned vodka, with a little extra. Sleeping medication? No, a laxative would be funnier.

I gasped for air once Sergei let go of me, I sat between his legs as I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. He watched me recover my breath before he reached out a hand to me, I placed one of mine into it and was laying on top of him within a blink of the eye.

He kissed me rough, his teeth hit mine as he forced his tongue past my lips and into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Sergei could be a soft, caring lover. Focused on my pleasure before getting his own release. But the constant teasing during the car ride to the restaurant, at the restaurant and on our way home drove him to the edge of madness. Now, with his men being murdered, it felt like I poked an already angry tiger with a stick.

The kiss was broken when I started to twist underneath him, fighting for air. Sergei didn’t waist any time, shoved me onto the mattress and raised to his knees, moving his muscular body to kneel behind me.

Hands landed on my hips, he forced me up on my knees and I felt the tip of his cock pressing against my slick core. Maybe I was wrong about this being a marathon. It was a boxing match, and I made to watch out to myself to not lay on the ground before the last round was over.

I cried out in pleasure when Sergei pushed his thick member inside me, his balls against my clit when he filled me out completely. Even after all those month it didn’t feel like he wore me out, the walls of my vagina still fitting like a tight clove around his cock.

Hips began moving at a rapid pace, Sergei literally hammered my body into the mattress and from time to time, one of his hands would raise and fall down painfully on my ass.

His minions would definitely shit their brains out tonight, I would make sure of that, I swore myself as I moaned underneath Sergei’s touch. His voice reached my ear, cursing under his breath and praising me in Russian. If he would only know that I understood every single word. The effect his words had on me.

Sergei grabbed me by the hair again, I could already feel the back of my head hurting from all the pulling, but at this moment, it only added to the raw pleasure we shared.

My back was forced against his sweat chest. Sergei‘s breath was hot against my skin when he bit my earlobe, the new angle causing me to moan on a constant repeat and when I felt his free hand against my clit, while the other one let go of my hair and wrapped itself around my waist, it was too much to take at once.

A strong orgasm waved over me, the walls of my vagina clenching tightly around his cock, milking his oversensitive flesh for his own release. I could feel him twitch inside me, grunting and panting heavily behind me as his movement started to become sloppy.

He held me in place and I was unable to move when he released his seed deep inside me, and I silently thanked modern medicine for birth control. His cum ran out of my heat and started to flow down against the inside of my thighs while I headed to the bathroom attached to the master bedroom.

After I was done using the toilet and cleaned myself, I came back into the bedroom. Sergei’s chest was raising and falling at a slow, steady pace and his eyelids were half-closed. I climbed back onto the mattress, snuggling against his side as I kissed his cheek softy.

“Did I hurt you?”, he asked me, his deep voice a mixture of worry and sleepiness. I shook my head to say no, my eyes never leaving his as he drifted into sleep.

I stayed for another half hour, making sure Sergei was fast when I left the bed and put back on my dress. It would only caught more attention then necessary if the guards see me walking towards the kitchen and I couldn’t afford any throwbacks.

The thinned vodka ran down the few guards throat like it was nothing more then ordinary water, and while I started getting my hopes up as I hurried to the west wing.

Circling around the corner, I almost screamed in surprise when I hit against someone, but a soft hand cupped my mouth and muffled any sounds. It’s the red haired woman. One of her eyes were barely visible, swollen and in a deep shade of purple. The cuts on her face had closed and someone washed the blood off of it.

“Scream and I will slit your throat open.”, she hissed dangerously, waiting for me to nod before she removed her hand from me. Her blue eyes took me in from head to toe, balancing her options silently.

“Listen”

“You’ll stay quiet. Only talk when I ask you.”

“No, you’ll have to listen. I don’t know how much time we have. They have a friend of mine here, I can get the two of you out of here.”, I told her firmly as I took a quick glance around the corner before I walked down the corridor. The red haired woman right by my side, watching me in wonder.

“It this some sick love game for the two of you? You’re getting my hopes up while he’s still picking his weapon.”, her voice was cold, but I understood that she was searching for any kind of explanation for my current behavior. Last time she saw me, I watched her getting beaten up by my supposed boyfriend who left the room covered in blood and engaged in a fiery kiss with me.

“No, I am an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and”

“You sneaky little bastards. When will you break his rotten heart? Let me watch?”, she interrupted me, both of us stopping in front of the door where I suspected Agent Barton behind. I ignored her question, using the doorknob to open the door. Of course, it would be locked.

The redhead and I shared a quick glance before we both stepped back and kicked against the hard wood at the same time. The door cracked out of the frame and stood half open, I pushed it further to the side and scanned the room for my coworker.

Agent Clint Barton, code name Hawkeye, was bound at a chair and I noticed the swollen cheekbone and the tried blood on his face. He looked up at the two of us like a deer hit by the headlight before relaxing within a heartbeat.

“What took you so damn long? I had planned an epic escape scenario once I got caught. Both of us kicking ass while looking fabulous. Oh, hey Tasha.”, Barton babbled like a waterfall while I walked over to him, taking the knife which I attached with tape to my left thigh in one hand and started cutting through the rope.

“You know her?”

“Budapest.”

“No way! That’s her!”, I said a little bit to loud, causing the red haired woman to turn to as she stood between the door frame on guard. She had a surprised look on her face for a split second before falling back into her cold behavior, her back facing us again.

Clint told me everything. I wished I would have been there to see it in the first place, but ever since then he made it his personal mission to recruit the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff.

“She’s that amazing femme fatale?”, I whispered against Clints ear, ropes falling to the ground and he slowly started raising himself off the chair. The way he moved told me that he was beaten up badly.

“I felt like fighting against an evil version of you.”, he whispered in respond, slowly crossing the room to stop next to the female master assassin. “Sorry that I stole your style. Thought I can wear it better.”, pointing at his face, I rolled my eyes as I groaned quietly. I haven’t missed his smart ass comments for a single second.

“Follow me.”, I said harshly, hearing faint noised from the end of the hallway where I came from and the three of us went for a jog in the opposite direction.

“Why are you here in the first place?”, I glanced behind my back, watching Barton shrug but his face twisted from pain this motion caused.

“Hill started going on Fury’s nerves. She missed you. Hell, I think even the old man missed you. I missed you. So, we came up with a rescue plan.”

“Rescue plan?”, Natasha almost bursted into laughter when she heard that, shaking her head in amusement as I opened the door which led to the underground garage.

“I didn’t said it was a good one.”, the blond haired said to his defense, entering the staircase first before Natasha took a firm grip around my wrist and pushed me inside, jumping at me when a loud bang filled the air.

I noticed a hole in the frame of the door before the door felt back from the repulsion.

“Sergei.”, I breathed out, trying to not let the panic get the best of me as we ran downstairs. “The keys are always in the car.”, I called out to Clint, who was a couple steps ahead of us and I could feel dirt sticking underneath my bare feet.

“Any bulletproof?”, he yelled in a hast as he pushed the door to the car park open.

“All of them.”, I replied and my head snapped to the side as I felt Natasha taking the knife out of my hand, a serious expression on her face. “Play along.”, she mouthed silently, the blade of the knife against the skin of my throat and the two of us started walking backwards while Clint was doing god knows what.

The door flew open and revealed a rage filled Sergei Kravinoff striding straight in our direction. He was dressed in his pants and a shirt from earlier, his strong hands tightly wrapped around the barrel of a rifle. Knuckles turned white.

Natasha yelled, matching his wrath, that he’s a fool along with a couple curses in Russian even I haven’t heard of until this day, the blade of the knife lightly pressing against my throat.

She threatened to kill me if he won’t throw his rifle on the ground, and my attention was so fixed on the two of them that I almost missed the sound of a starting car engine somewhere close behind us.

“Do it and I will torture you so long that you will beg me to kill you.”, Sergei hissed back at her in Russian, raising the gun at Natasha and myself and he could tell he was ready to shot.

Tilting her head behind me, I heard a low voice telling me to get ready, squeaking wheels on the slippery ground echoed against the wall and I was pushed inside the driving car with Natasha falling on top of me.

Quickly, she moved around to close the still open door of the car and I raised my upper body to look back window. Sergei was chasing after the car, I saw him screaming his lungs out but it only reached my ears as a muffled sound.

Clint put his foot down on the gas, the car driving faster and faster as we left the underground garage behind and soon after that, with a warning that Natasha and I should hold on tight, he drove the car through the closed driveway and onto the nightly street.

Sergei was nothing more then a little point in the back before I turned around to rest my back against the seat, exhaling the air I had held until now.

(4405 Words)

Note: I am starting a series based on the “Visiting Eddie Brock in San Fransisco” imagine. Female Reader.

I picked Edgar Ramirez as Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter), because in my humble opinion, he would be the perfect cast.

[femmeslash]

i don't think this one ever made it into my inbox but @chichorie requested saiibo with #44! here u are!

44. i’m the friend who is constantly cold and you’re the friend who is constantly hot so you offer to snuggle with me when the power goes out

Over the past few weeks of dating, Shuuichi's found out several things about Kiibo that he doubts anyone else knows. Kiibo has an interest in cooking and baking; sweets in particular. Kiibo doesn't really sleep, but he does power down in something like a sleep mode, his eyes shut and his collar glowing a soft blue as his battery charges. And, perhaps most surprisingly, Kiibo is warm. Really, really warm.

It does make sense, if he thinks about it. Computers tend to generate some heat, which is why they have fans built in to cool them. Kiibo is no exception. Perhaps it's just a preconceived notion about robots - in Shuuichi's mind, at least, he had expected Kiibo to run cool. Finding out the contrary was true had been a pleasant, and welcome, surprise.

Kiibo's warmth, all particulars aside, is extremely convenient in the cold winter weather. Shuuichi frequently finds himself wishing he was back at home in his bed, or under a kotatsu. But Kiibo is nearly always there, offering a warm robotic hand.

Tonight is no different. If anything, it's even more extreme, heavy winds battering the walls and threatening to knock Shuuichi's apartment building down. Shuuichi's been pretty sure the power would go out since the second the wind started. And, well, it was only a matter of time. Before long, as much as he'd like to hide it, Shuuichi starts to shiver.

"Saihara-kun, is something the matter? It seems like you're shaking," Kiibo says, mid-conversation.

"I'm just cold," Shuuichi assures him. "It's nothing serious. Um, and you don't have to call me Saihara," he adds quietly.

"Cold temperatures can be serious!"

"They can be, but, uh, not in this case. I'm just a little cold, it's okay."

"Still, though, if you are at all uncomfortable... Would you like me to help restore your body temperature?"

It's actually kind of unfair how cute Kiibo is, Shuuichi thinks. "If you want," he says.

Kiibo smiles, his face practically glowing. "Very well! I've done some research on this topic, actually. You are best off being wrapped in a blanket, to trap your own natural body heat."

"Okay..." Shuuichi says, pulling the comforter off his futon and wrapping it around his shoulders. "I, um, think I'd rather lay down, actually."

"That is quite alright!"

Shuuichi can feel Kiibo's eyes on him as he straightens out the blankets and snuggles into his bed. His bed, which is also cold, but it'll warm up in time. Yet Kiibo makes no further move, just sits there on the floor a few feet from Shuuichi.

"Um, is there something...?"

"Yes!" Kiibo says suddenly. "If... If I might ask... C-could we... share a bed?"

Shuuichi's heart pounds wildly. "Ah, I guess... You won't overheat, right?"

"I will do my best to transfer any additional heat I may produce directly to you, Shuuichi!"

Shuuichi still melts whenever he hears Kiibo use his first name. "Okay..." He lifts up the blankets to allow Kiibo to slide in next to him.

So the two of them lie there, face to face, Kiibo cupping Shuuichi's cold fingers in his own warm hands. Already Shuuichi feels better. More alive, even.

"This is nice," Kiibo says, in a soft and gentle tone Shuuichi's seldom heard. "I think... this is what happiness is."

"Yeah," Shuuichi says, and means it. "Yeah, I think it is."

[prompts are closed, thank you!]