#so it first appeared as a brief flash of motion

[marlynnofmany]

Oh hey, fun fact I just remembered: at the edges of your vision, you can see motion but not color.

Seems wrong, doesn’t it? There’s no black-and-white area to the sides. But that’s because your brain guesses and fills it in.

Here’s the test:

Get some squares of colored paper, or anything else that’s all the same size but different colors. Felt pens, DVD cases, whatever. Pick one without looking (or have a friend do it for you.)

Look straight forward, holding the thing out to the side and behind you, so you can’t quite see it yet. Move it forward until you do. Wiggle as necessary.

When you first see something moving, you won’t be able to say what color it is, and it will be maddening. You can guess! But it’s just a guess! Then when you look, you may be completely wrong!

It’s a fun game for parties, and blowing your friends’ minds.

[cheshiresense]

[From Here]

Dithered over which pov to write next, figured I’d try Yuzu.

-0-

When Yuzu gets a phone call from Ichigo that they would be having two guests for dinner tonight, she is delighted. In all the years she’s known him, her brother has only ever introduced one person to them as something of a friend. Mizuiro is half a sibling at this point, trusted enough to be around them even when Ichigo isn’t, but before him, and after him, nobody else has ever caught Ichigo’s eye enough to warrant an actual invitation to dine with their family.

“They’re related to ghost stuff,” Ichigo adds bluntly, and Yuzu understands that to mean that these two will at least be tougher than the average yakuza on the street, even if they can’t match up to her brother.

“I understand!” She chirps back cheerfully. “I’ll let Karin know. I can’t wait to meet them!”

Then she hangs up, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work in the kitchen. No guests of her brother’s will ever accuse them of being ungracious hosts on her watch.

(Karin comes home from soccer practice half an hour later. She laughs, as Yuzu does, when Yuzu tells her of their impending guests.)

-0-

Two hours later, Yuzu is putting the finishing touches on the meal when the sound of the door being unlocked carries through the apartment.

"Welcome home, Onii-chan!" She calls out, plating the last dish before carrying it over to the dining table. "Dinner's ready!"

She can hear Karin leaving their bedroom and coming down the hall on deliberately heavy footsteps. She appears just as Ichigo comes in from the front, Mizuiro a step behind him, with two men bringing up the rear, vaguely middle-aged at first glance, younger at the second, and then just ageless the more you stare.

They're tall, is Yuzu's first thought, but everybody's tall from her perspective. Still, they're taller than Ichigo, especially the one in the very back, and bigger too, even if they've got that same elegant dancer's gait her brother walks with, the one that whispers danger in the hindbrain even to those who don't know what to look for. They're also both blond, one darker than the other, but both with hair that nearly reach their shoulders. One wears modern clothing, the other more traditional, and one is empty-handed while the other carries a cane, but both of them take in the whole room in one calculating sweep that misses nothing. And they're both already smiling politely as they walk in, one with a harmless playful edge, the other with a harmless mysterious air, but both as fake as each other.

Yuzu exchanges a glance with Karin just to check she's not seeing things. Karin gives her the eyebrows that means she's noticed too.

Mizuiro had given off a far less dangerous aura when Ichigo had first brought him home. And he still feels much less threatening than these men now, no matter how much Guest One and Guest Two are probably trying to play it down. But back then, Mizuiro had also come in with sharp eyes and a guileless skin-deep smile, and that at least is exactly the same.

Their big brother sure does have a type. Yuzu sometimes wonders if Ichigo goes out and picks the most suspicious and unsettling people he can find to entertain him, or if he just somehow attracts them with his innate charm.

"My sisters, Karin, and Yuzu," Ichigo introduces without suspense, then jabs a thumb at Mizuiro. "And Mizuiro lives next door but he eats with us when we're here."

Then he gestures at the two men. "This is Hirako Shinji and Urahara Kisuke." He pauses for a brief half-second, and his eyes flash gold in Yuzu's, and Karin's, direction. "Hirako's a bit like me." He pauses again, and a funny half-smile hitches at one corner of his mouth. "They both are actually."

He says nothing else, so Yuzu takes that as her cue to sketch a neat half-bow paired with a bright smile. "Hello! It's nice to meet you!"

Beside her, Karin parrots the motion, if in a more perfunctory manner, but they weren't raised in a cave, so they know how to be courteous.

The men murmur back their own greetings even as their gazes shift back and forth between them and their brother like they're trying to pick up on a second unspoken conversation, but it's not as if there's anything for them to hear either way.

It's just that the introduction was short, names and little else, so Yuzu knows that they're equally untrustworthy, which makes sense because Ichigo couldn't have known them for more than a week or two. But the little else he'd tacked on had been a sign as well— not just that they're like him in some ways, in different ways, but also that Ichigo likes Hirako more than Urahara. Nevertheless, the fact that he'd brought them here at all means that they're interesting enough to make them both tolerable.

Yuzu understands, as does Karin, but they give no indication of it as everyone shuffles around to wash their hands, and Yuzu quickly scoops out a bowl of rice each for everyone in attendance.

"Onii-chan never invites anybody over, so I made a lot of extra food today," Yuzu tells them happily. "Please eat as much as you want!"

"Everythin' looks delicious," The darker blond, Hirako, grins at her, and this time, the expression seems more genuine. At the very least, it gives her a warmer feeling than the other blond, Urahara, who also smiles and trills agreement but radiates more distance than an overseas phone call.

Everyone settles around the dining table, although Mizuiro spares a moment to pull an exaggerated moue of aggrievement. "Never invites anybody over? Have I been forgotten, Yuzu-chan?"

Karin rolls her eyes while Yuzu giggles merrily. "You don't count, Mizuiro-nii-chan. You already eat with us almost every day anyway."

Mizuiro drops the act in favour of a smirk, though he looks pleased too, to be counted as family, as if the novelty of it still hasn't worn off. To be fair, it had taken a whole six months before Ichigo had been willing to leave him in the same vicinity as Yuzu and Karin on their own, and Yuzu knows that being trusted like that by her brother is no small feat.

Conversation drops as everybody begins digging in, and Yuzu lets her gaze drift casually over to their guests as they too pick up their bowls and chopsticks.

It's Urahara she lingers on first because he's the one who lifts his bowl to his mouth, only to stop at the last second, chopsticks poised. His expression doesn't really change, and the lapse only lasts a fraction of a second before he's moving again, smoothly pretending to eat a mouthful before lowering his bowl again, chewing and swallowing thin air masterfully. Even Yuzu only spots it because she's been watching the whole time from behind lowered eyelashes as she grabs some eggplant from one of the vegetable dishes.

She lets her gaze drop completely when she feels the man's eyes move from the food to her and then to Ichigo. Still, she can't quite suppress a pout, although she supposes she can't be too disappointed either since Hirako at least eats a good five bites of his rice before suddenly stiffening, glancing down sharply even as his eyes flicker with the same burnished gold colour that her brother possesses.

Then he looks up, looks at Urahara, looks at her, looks long at Ichigo, and then-

-he laughs. It's a bark of one that echoes with a snarl, except the mirth in it is also entirely genuine, enough for Yuzu to glance up with startled eyes. But the rest of the table does as well, so at least she doesn't stand out. Of course, that doesn't prevent Hirako from grinning at her, all teeth, with a bite that would feel like claws at her throat if not for the fact that it's coloured by something even warmer than when he'd complimented her spread. Appreciation, maybe.

"Is it the rice?" He muses candidly, and then actually eats another bite. "Nah, can't be, it was from the same cooker. It's the bowl, right? Not bad, I can't smell or taste anythin'."

Yuzu blinks and shares another look with Karin, who looks largely bored by the proceedings and hasn't stopped eating. Soccer practice always makes her hungry. But she also shrugs in agreement that Hirako is being sincere, so Yuzu relaxes and looks at her brother next.

Ichigo also hasn't stopped eating, although he isn't shovelling food into his mouth as speedily as Karin is. He swallows, glances leisurely at their guests, then looks back at her. "Not bad. Nothing in the food though?"

Yuzu frowns. "It's the first time you've invited them over, Onii-chan. I didn't want to scare them off."

Also, they're tolerable, and Ichigo even likes one of them, so she'd chosen the mildly poisoned bowls over the severely poisoned ones.

Ichigo just looks amused. "They don't scare easily."

Yuzu pouts again before glancing at their two guests, who are both watching them openly now. Hirako still looks like he's just heard a grand joke, while Urahara seems more than a little bemused, but neither of them feels angry.

Her big brother really is an excellent judge of character.

"You really didn't notice anything at all?" Yuzu asks in earnest, peering at Hirako before squinting at Urahara. "Then how come he did? And did you already shake the poison off?"

Hirako snorts and reaches for the communal chopsticks to swipe another chicken wing. "My... constitution's pretty good at negatin' toxins. And Kisuke's trained for this sort of thing."

Trained? Yuzu stares wide-eyed at Urahara long enough for the man to stop exuding caution and start manifesting awkwardness, which isn't what she wants so she hastily blurts out, "Are you really? So you can identify any poison? But the one I made is an original, so you shouldn't have come across it before."

Urahara stares back at her for a long blank-faced moment, not even bothering to stitch on a smile anymore, and like this, he matches the flat undercurrent of his emotions much better, like ice over water, except the water is the ocean and you don't know how deep it goes or what's waiting underneath.

"Ah," The man finally says, lifting a hand to his hat for a moment and pressing down on it so that his eyes are hidden. Then he looks up again and eyes her like he's seeing her for the first time and is pleasantly surprised by what he's found. "I may not know the exact poison, but I could still tell there was something off. Also, it's plant-based, isn't it?"

He pauses, and then, just like Hirako, he picks up his rice bowl again and swallows a decent mouthful, chewing almost thoughtfully beforehand. "And refined with reiatsu. That's actually more difficult to hide from me. Your technique is clumsy too. Give me an hour and I could probably also tell you the strains you crossed to make it. For now, at the very least, I can say there's definitely wisteria in this."

Yuzu is rendered speechless for a full five seconds. And then she snaps out of it and rounds on her brother with the best puppy eyes in her arsenal. She knows they don't actually work, but Ichigo tends to give in to her when she pulls them out anyway because it means she really wants something. "Onii-chan, you'll invite them back again, won't you? Urahara-san is amazing! I could learn so much if he teaches me!"

Ichigo's eyebrows go up for a moment in a way that speaks of indulgence, but he also glances lazily at Urahara before going back to his food. "Ask him yourself."

Yuzu pulls up short, always slightly stunned whenever her brother refuses her, even when it's not a direct refusal. But generally speaking, if she or Karin wants something enough to ask for it, Ichigo has always been the sort to simply make it happen for them. The only times he's ever refused is when he'd thought it too unnecessary - Karin really shouldn't have asked for a flamethrower for her birthday, it's unwieldy and she can't hide it in her backpack, plus they know how to make Molotov cocktails already anyway, which is almost the same thing - or when he'd considered it important for them to get what they want on their own, usually because it would make for a useful life skill in the future.

Never has it been because of a person.

But for the first time ever, this situation seems to have fallen into that exact category, which... She looks back at Urahara with more curiosity than before. For someone Ichigo only finds tolerable, something about this man has... impressed him? Is that what's going on here? Not even Mizuiro has ever succeeded in that before, so for once, Yuzu has no precedent to draw from.

Well, that doesn't matter right now. The important thing is that Urahara will probably remain in her big brother's life for some time to come, which means-

"Urahara-san!" She shoots to her feet, chair clattering back with the force of it as she bows. "Please teach me more about poisons! It's okay if it's just a little bit, whenever you have time. I promise I'll work hard! And of course, I can pay for the lessons!"

She does some mental tallying. There's a bake sale coming up for her club, and the venue they've chosen is close enough to the Karakura border to attract people from the neighbouring town. If she plays her cards right, some thugs from nearby yakuza groups probably wouldn't mind donating to her cause. Pretty little girls offering pretty little cakes are bound to reel in at least a few idiots.

Of course, she'll have to ask Ichigo to get rid of them afterwards. It's better not to risk putting anything too lethal into a school bake sale, just in case of an accident, so she'll have to stick with upset stomachs at most. Once they've paid up, Ichigo can make them disappear. Those upset stomachs can get really gross, and blood and guts aren't much better if cleanup gets messy, so Yuzu would rather not deal with that part.

Unlike her siblings who don't mind it, Yuzu is unfortunately something of a clean freak. Karin always taunts her about having inherited their father's delicate constitution, and Yuzu can't even refute it, no matter how insulted she feels. It's seriously unfair because she can gut a fish in the kitchen no problem, but human intestines make her gag.

"I-" Urahara starts, jolting her out of her thoughts. The man looks taken aback all over again, and like he's missed a step somewhere. He even feels a bit nervous as he whips out a paper fan of all things, one that hides half his face from view. His gaze bounces between her and her brother, emitting enough anxious vibes that Yuzu suddenly wants to give him an emotional support dog or something. "I'm not sure I would be the... best choice for this sort of thing, Kurosaki-san."

Yuzu is unsure who he's talking to, but just in case it's her, she rearranges her face into the most kicked puppy look of disappointment she's capable of. "Why not? You know your poisons, and it looks like it'll be hard for me to kill you. Onii-chan can only teach me so much, it's not really his area, so I've only been able to trial-and-error it for months now. But I'm a quick learner, and I swear I'll listen to anything you're willing to teach me. Or, is it the money? Just name your price."

Even if she can't come up with it all on her own, she's certain Ichigo will help pay the rest. Honestly, even if it's within her budget, he'll just pour the same amount she shells out back into her bank account. The only reason they have to go in a big circle like this is because Ichigo wants them to learn how to handle money responsibly.

"That's not-" Urahara stops again, then snaps his fan shut, and then all of a sudden, it's like a wall comes up, and everything about him shuts down. He straightens, features as unreadable as the rest of him, and then he turns to Ichigo so that it's unmistakeable who he's talking to this time. "Kurosaki-san, is this really alright?"

Ichigo's basically finished eating at this point. Karin gets up for another bowl of rice. Mizuiro watches them like he's binging one of his romance dramas. And Hirako has his head propped up against one loose fist, eyes half-lidded but intent.

In response, Ichigo only shrugs. "I mean, you can say no. But like she said, I can't teach her much more than I already have, and it's not like she's gonna find a better teacher than you at this point, right?"

"And where did you learn it from?" Urahara asks, grey eyes riveted on Ichigo with the sort of focus that feels like he might've forgotten anyone else even exists.

Ichigo actually quirks a smile, sardonically amused. "Same place I learned everything else."

He doesn't expand on it, keeping the conversation on track instead, much to Yuzu's delight. "Anyway, if you're asking for permission, obviously it's a yes. I wouldn't have let her ask in the first place if I wasn't okay with it. And she's smart. You could do worse for a part-time student."

Urahara remains motionless and unblinking for another few seconds. "...Was this why you invited us for dinner?"

Ichigo shrugs again. "Not really. It's not like I knew you knew poisons. I just thought my sisters should meet you, that's all."

"And why's that?" Hirako interjects, also watching Ichigo with gleaming eyes that never waver. "Cuz ya don't seem the type to let jus' anyone get close to your nearest and dearest."

Ichigo turns to him, and his eyes are fond in a way they very rarely are when aimed at anyone not Yuzu or Karin or Mizuiro. It's not quite on the same level, but it does make it even more obvious that Hirako has her brother's favour.

"I thought it'd be good if they knew a few Shinigami," Ichigo says offhandedly, although judging by the slight stir of surprise from both guests, they hadn't expected he would just come out and say it. Or perhaps they're surprised he's talking about it in front of Yuzu and Karin and Mizuiro? But they're family. Yuzu doesn't know everything about Ichigo, but that's just because she doesn't want to know that much about her brother's life, not because Ichigo wouldn't tell her if she or Karin asks.

"You seem like you might bring trouble to my doorstep one day," Ichigo says, somewhat out of the blue, and all at once, Urahara tugs at his hat again just as Yuzu gets a sense of shifty-eyed discomfort all but waving support lights over the man's head. Hirako sort of feels the same, but in a less... personal way.

So whatever's going on, Urahara's probably the one in charge.

Ichigo seems to sense it too, or he's long guessed it considering his not great feelings for Urahara. Either way, he scoffs, and the light in his eyes says he's annoyed, but not annoyed enough to do something permanent about it. Yet. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So I figured it's better for you to know who you should do your very best to protect if shit goes down around them, because otherwise, I might not even feel like hearing you out. Understand?"

Hirako glances at Yuzu, at Karin, even at Mizuiro, then he turns back to Ichigo, solemn in a way Yuzu hasn't seen since they met, "I understand."

It sounds like a promise.

Ichigo hums, satisfied. Neither of them prods at Urahara for an answer, and Urahara doesn't give one. He feels flat again, like a scrap of paper.

"So like I said," Ichigo continues briskly. "If you wanna teach her, knock yourself out. You can send me the bill."

Yuzu beams at him. Looks like she won't have to waste any cakes.

From his seat, Urahara heaves a sigh, and now he just seems tired and still a bit baffled, but he also finally looks at her again like he's assessing her potential. Yuzu straightens and adopts her best imploring face.

This of all things makes Urahara's mouth twitch, and he even feels amused, except it's the sort of amusement that's all wrapped up in razor-wire mockery. That bit doesn't show on his face of course. Still, Yuzu's fingers suddenly itch with the urge to swap out his bowl with the other one after all.

"So clumsy," The man muses, one finger tapping at the cane leaning against his chair. "...Very well, I suppose I may have a few things I can impart to a budding... chemistry enthusiast. On one condition however. And I don't want money."

He looks at Ichigo again, except he doesn't say anything. Ichigo seems to understand anyway because a grin pulls at his lips, a touch too savage to fit on a human face, and aimed at anyone else, Yuzu knows they wouldn't even have time to pick out a coffin.

Urahara seems to be an exception. It makes Yuzu wonder if he's just that strong, certain in his ability to forever remain stronger than her brother, or if he's simply gambling with his life, and it's Ichigo instead who's decided to be uncharacteristically patient.

She hopes it's not the former, because she has no faith in anyone who thinks themselves capable of staying ahead of her brother forever. But if it's the latter, then maybe she'll have enough time to wheedle out everything Urahara knows of poisons before Ichigo snaps and kills him.

"That seems a bit unbalanced," Ichigo remarks.

Urahara inclines his head, and this time, his voice rings of the same vow that had reverberated in Hirako's earlier. "Upon my blade, my life before your family's, should the worst come to pass."

Ichigo laughs, soft and without humour. "This trouble must be something else. That, or you don’t think your life’s worth all that much. But fine. We'll hash it out tomorrow. Keep your word, and I might even go along with whatever you and your people have been cooking up. But Yuzu gets to bug you for lessons any day of the week from now on."

And once again, between one breath and the next, Urahara trades the gravity for the false affability from before.

It's like watching a performance, Yuzu thinks.

She glances at her brother and watches him watch Urahara, still annoyed, still a bit like he could put a knife through the other's ribs if it wouldn't mean the hassle of mopping blood off the floor.

Ichigo likes Hirako. Yuzu does too, even though they just met not even half an hour ago. There's something about him that makes him approachable and friendly despite the very obvious beast lurking beneath his skin. But that too might be part of the charm because Yuzu's long used to the same thing from her brother. Knowing even just that much, it's not a shock that Ichigo has clicked with him - a fellow monster - in a way he never has even with Mizuiro.

But Urahara is different. Urahara is treated with tolerance only, with irritation and discontent and even derision, on and off. But Yuzu knows that her brother has killed people for a whole lot less than that, and yet here Urahara sits at their family's table while Ichigo looks at him from time to time, tolerant and irritated and discontent and derisive, and he can't stop looking.

She wonders if even her brother is aware of what he's doing.

"I'll leave my number," The man offers, complete with a genial smile. "And you may stop by my shop anytime. Allow me a few days, and I shall have some reading material organized for you."

Yuzu perks up, nods, and finally sits back down, then gets up again to fetch two extra bowls of rice, this time clean of any poison. Hirako snickers but accepts his with a nod. Urahara does the same, with that same winning smile, and then dinner restarts, this time uninterrupted.

Well, who cares if Ichigo is aware or not? He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And besides, it’s all the same in the end— people who push her brother too far will face the consequences, and those who don't will not. That's just the simple truth of it.

But in the meantime, Urahara at least won't be going anywhere, which means Yuzu can finally get some guidance for one of her favourite hobbies, and honestly, that's all she really cares about.

[bby-deerling]

Hey it said requests open but if there not it’s fine. Could you do a follow up on the zoros partner and best friend Sanji story. Maybe where he finds out about how she was feeling and some angst but happy ending please. Love your writing!

hello anon!!! i've actually had this floating around in my head for a few days myself! (and to the anon who wanted something similar but with a bit more angst + interactions w/sanji, i plan on doing a prequel as well so stay tuned!) ending is extra fluffy because i cannot help myself but in my defense it IS zoro's birthday today <3

in all my dreams (zoro x fem!reader) sfw, angst+fluff. wc: 2.1k

When Luffy and Zoro wake up and the crew rushes to greet them, you’re the first one to barrel through the door.  Flinging yourself onto Luffy first to give him a quick squeeze while he’s eating, happy tears prick at your eyes.  When you look up to gaze at Zoro across the table, he appears to be too busy drinking to even notice you, but as you approach him, he pats the ground next to him in an invitation to sit near him.

You’re not the only one who moves to take him up on it.

She’s too close, nestled right behind him, and the sweet smell of her perfume began to strangle your airways.  You barely notice the pinprick feeling of nails digging into your arms until Chopper is yanking your hand away.  There’s a brief pause in the pace of Zoro’s swallows as he chugs from the enormous bottle of sake, and for the first time since he’s woken up, his eye meets yours with a brief flash of emotions—you eagerly consume each one.

Excitement, love, concern, then, as he notices you were picking at your arms, guilt.

Your stomach twists into a mangled mess.

You don’t have time to spiral too far before he passes you a piece of meat with his free hand.  Too slow on the uptake, your captain snatches it with his grubby, rubbery hands from across the table before you can so much as bring it towards your mouth.  You doubted could keep down a delicious steak like that at a time like this anyways. 

Chopper keeps trying desperately to get Zoro’s attention and get him to slow down, but his pace drinking was inhuman, even more so than before.  As he tilts the bottle upward to lap up the last few mouthfuls, he offers you the mouth of the jug, holding your jaw in place as he pours.  Unable to hold back a blush, you nearly gasp when he wipes the excess sake from your upper lip and tastes it from his own hand; by your limited standards of public displays of affection, it was obscene.  His slate grey eye meets your gaze as you swallow, both exchanging a silent message.

I missed you.

And suddenly, everything is as it should be, the worry in the pit of your stomach replaced by butterflies and fondness and the excitement of finally getting to see him in motion for the first time in days.  Head abuzz, drunk on love and liquor, you ramble to him about nearly everything that had occurred while he was asleep—all of the mundane and silly moments with your crew that you cherished, and wished he could have been there for. 

Everything is so immaculately perfect, until Zoro wonders how his body ended up clean and she speaks up.

“…Is that pleasing to you~?”

Everything is red, and your ears are ringing, and your kimono is nearly singed by the flames at Sanji’s feet as he starts a petty argument with Zoro; the cook is jealous of the affection the swordsman is receiving, but you catch the deeper anger in his ocean blue eye—he’s fighting for your dignity.  Embarrassment floods your cheeks as you recall your drunken misery from last night, praying he won’t bring it up to get the upper hand as they argue. 

Chopper snaps you out of your frozen state, fretting over your frazzled condition.  The little reindeer guides you to Nami, who gives you a firm squeeze on the shoulder and ropes you into the plans to head towards the bathhouses.  There’s a brief lull in conversation, and the room is mostly silent, save for Zoro and Sanji’s bickering; of course, this is the moment the cook takes to open his mouth.

“Do you even have the faintest idea what you’re doing to her, mosshead?  She’s a nervous wreck!”

The stupid cook had broken a key tenet of you and Zoro’s relationship—your dirty laundry was now being aired out in public, despite the fact that you were both trying to be as discreet as possible for not just your own safety, but the crew’s as well.  Zoro now knew you had not only had a wavering of faith and had briefly doubted his level of commitment to you, but also that you had gone to Sanji of all people for comfort.

The two of you had never been in a fight before, but you bite your tongue and worry this might have pushed Zoro to the brink.

You grab Nami by the forearm and are out the door as quickly as possible before you can overhear more of their arguing.  The rest of the women follow close behind, including Hiyori, her aura completely serene and unbothered; you on the other hand, are trembling so badly that Tama asks you if you’re ill.  Sick with worry and the slight sting of betrayal at having your confidence broken, you try to smile and tell her you’re just a touch lightheaded.

Normally, Nami would give you a bit more grief for acting so bizarre, but as she feels you tremble, she can’t help but rub circles into your shoulder as you near the women’s baths.

“Everything’s fine, she’s just getting in your head.” she whispers; the fresh scent of tangerines washes over you and begins to calm your nerves.

Before you can respond, a noodle-like arm wrapped itself repeatedly around your torso like a boa constrictor and you found yourself yanked backwards.  With the way your chest was tightened with anxiety, Luffy’s grasp was an unconventional comfort.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about something!” he exclaimed, patting you on the head, giving you a smile so endearing that your nerves nearly vaporized.  “People say that Boa Hancock is the most beautiful woman in the world, and she wanted to marry me a lot, but I don’t care—I’d rather have a nice piece of meat, y'know!  So there! Get what I mean?”

Luffy’s grin is infectious, and spreads to your face before you both erupt into laughter.  Cryptic wording aside, you picked up on what he was trying to say, and you find yourself embarrassed that you had gotten so worked up in the first place.

“Don’t call her a piece of meat, Luffy!” Chopper cries from on top of Zoro’s shoulders. “She’s not food no matter how many times you try to bite her—"

“—but Zoro’s always biting her all the time!” he whines, causing your face to flush.

You sense Zoro is about to grab you by the waist with your observation haki, and your face tingles with anticipation.  As he pulls you into his side, he mumbles in your ear.

“Let’s talk later.  I’ve got a gift for you.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s smirking, admiring the pink dusting on your cheeks.  You nod, eyes brimming with excitement and relief; you almost dare to throw yourself into his arms since only Luffy and Chopper were around at the moment, but before you can act you’re being launched into the air.

“Back ya’ go!” Luffy shouts, laughing maniacally as you hurtle through the air back towards the women.  You enjoy the brief sensation of flying and hope Nami will catch you; she does, but not without some grumbling at how she was going to knock Luffy upside the head later as you both headed towards the bath.

As she runs her fingers soothingly through your scalp, massaging the shampoo into your roots, you tell her Zoro plans to give you a present, and the navigator completely freezes.

“Seriously?” she asks, nearly choking with surprise.

“Mhm!  You know what it is, don’t you?” you asked, eager for a hint.

“’Course I do, I paid for it!” she snaps back.

You look at her expectantly, but she gives you no clues.  Pouting your lip out jokingly causes Nami to roll her eyes at you and sigh, deciding to throw you a bone.

“He must really be in the doghouse if he’s giving that to you now.” she says.

“You don’t mean—”

“Not telling you!  Not telling you anything else!  …Unless you pay me, but I know damn well you don’t have enough to cover the cost.”

You drop the subject, but excited jitters dance through your limbs and leave you restless.  When you finally leave the comfort of the warm bath, Nami insists on preening over you, carefully brushing, drying, and styling your hair with one of her gorgeous hairpins, and makes sure your kimono looks perfect.  The attention was welcome, especially because she would normally ask something in return, but surprisingly this time she tells you not to worry about it with a big smile on her face.

When you finally make it back to the Sunny with Nami, you glance around for Zoro and see him standing in the Observation Tower.  Seeing your struggling on account of your heavy robes, he meets you halfway, descending the ladder, and offers to carry you up; when you gleefully accept, he scoops you into his arms as if you were weightless.  Passing the threshold and entering the dome-like structure, he kisses your forehead and sets you down—any other time he would be a bit rougher about it, knowing how much you liked being tossed around, but he’s conscious of the way you’re bundled into your robes with care.

As your eyes meet, you can tell he’s excited, and a little unnerved.  He contemplates saying something for a moment, but decides to sit down first.

“C’mere.” he says, patting the ground in front of him.  You sit on your knees between his legs, and he wraps them the rest of the way around, encircling you.  One hand cradles your face while the other one sits lazily on your hip.

“I’m so glad you’re awake…” you tell him, voice light as you feel like you’re finally able to breathe for the first time in days.

“You knew I’d be fine.” he says, kissing your forehead gently.

“I know, but I missed you!” you reply, giggling.

“I missed you too, pretty girl.” he says, planting a soft, gentle kiss on your lips.  Pupils wide and eyes sparkling, you’re completely vulnerable, and all his.  He drinks every drop of your affection up greedily as he does the last bits of sake from your lips.

He hesitates a moment before speaking again, and doesn’t miss the brief flash of worry in your eyes as you catch it.

“Thank you.  For staying focused when you needed to and not losing your head.” he says, as his thumb strokes your cheek.  “You’re so good to me.  I wouldn’t have taken it half as well.”  A deep exhale leaves you; you’ve been shed of an enormous weight as you give him a peck on the lips.

“And thank you.  For not getting too worked up about what blondie said earlier about me being a nervous wreck about it.” you reply, grateful he was as understanding of your feelings as you had hoped.

He scrunches his face for a moment, trying to figure out what you were referring to; when the cook runs his mouth during their arguments, he usually ends up tuning most of it out or forgetting it immediately after.  When he finally recalls it, just shrugs.  “Don’t worry about it.  The shitty cook is always making mountains out of molehills.”

His mouth still tastes like the grainy aftertaste of sake, and you feel yourself getting drunk on it.  The grip on your hips tightens, as if he’s afraid you’ll evaporate into thin air if he lets go.  He’s careful not to mess up your hair like he usually would as he deepens the kiss, giving you a slight bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back.

“Got something for you.” he says softly, pulling a tiny, drawstring bag out of his pocket and placing it in your hand.  Inside is a necklace—a thin, gold chain with a tiny, diamond pendant cut in the shape of a heart. 

“A promise.” he says, “That whatever happens in the future, wherever I go, you’re coming with me.”

Speechless, you’re incapable of doing anything but smiling as he hooks the clasp around your neck; the light brush of his fingers on your neck sends tingles down your spine.

“Couldn’t get you a ring.” he says with a smirk. “Would mess up your grip on your knives again after we spent all that time fixing it.”  You giggle in response, voice hitching a bit as you’re overcome by emotion.

“I love you so much, Zoro.” you say, gazing at him with that dreamy haze in your eyes that drove him wild.

“I love you too.” he replies, pulling you in for a kiss, finally allowing himself to let go and start to run his hands through your hair. 

Nami had dressed you up so beautifully for him, like a gift to be carefully undone, but right now, basking in the glow of your love, he just couldn’t help but want to rip through the wrapping paper.

[v3nusxsky]

Yes Larissa Weems

Unwrap me 18+

*Authors note~ back with the smut and as you can see this anon got in first with Larissa Weems! Let me know if you liked the game :) Also, Marilyn is non existent in this :( sorry yall*

Trigger warnings~ sub rope bunny R dom Larissa mommy kink, praise n degrading kink, face sitting? In general teasing r bondage? Sex toys squirting

Prompt~ secret Santa/gift exchange for @storiesofsvu holiday bingo

The holiday season crept forward like the predator staking it’s prey, seemingly surrounding Nevermore quickly this year. The arrival of Wednesday Addams and you being the newly qualified bounty teacher instead of her assistant provided enough of a distraction for Larissa. Something she knew had to be due to Mortica being, well Mortica. As her estranged sister, Larissa hadn’t know who you were until she saw all the paperwork. With your niece's arrival brought Mortica, old wounds appearing for you and the principal. Being close to Larissa meant you could see the brief flash of hurt in her beautiful cyan irises before she masked it with her business facade. Equally, she caught your emotions at seeing your niece and nephew again as well as your sister. But she never mentioned it, leaving you to believe it was unnoticed.

With some expected teething problems Larissa was slowly losing her concept of time, not having you being her assistant left her trying to manage Nevermore and all the paper work that came with it. Before she knew it, coach Vald was approaching her about running a secret Santa. Every year he sought her approval to hold this event with all the staff the evening that the students left for their break. A way to unwind really. One of which she was happy to grant, seeing her staff happy made sure the students received the best possible education. This year you would be included as you were now officially on the staff which left the blonde more eager to take part this year.

Drawing her name was single-handedly the best and most terrifying moment of your life. You immediately paled at the realization that you needed to make this the best gift she would have ever gotten. Since that night a few months ago your crush on the principal was becoming more and more predominant in your working relationship. When you agreed to teach bounty you thought the memories of that night would lessen and fade into the background, after all it’s unprofessional but like seed blooming into flowers it grew.

Recently you’ve spent many nights in your bedroom partaking in Shabari art, rope art if you will, it appears you have a natural affinity for it and was something you greatly enjoyed, something only you knew you did. Over the months of doing this art form you’ve acquired a variety of colored rope and lengths of rope, but naturally you have a favorite. Larissa always told you that the wine-red dress you wear to work was simply stunning, so It was only natural the wine-colored rope was your favorite to use. This is where your plan started to form, it was like finally having the jigsaw pieces the right way up which allows you to plan a course of action. Which you did.

Part of your plan was telling your dear friend Vald that you wouldn’t be coming to tonight’s get together but handing him a neatly wrapped present with her name on it. It was all part of the plan little did he know, so he took the gift with a promise of bringing yours to you later that night. After thanking the coach you retreated to your room and set in motion phase 2 of your plan. Get ready for her.

After putting her eloquently wrapped gift in the Santa sack, the blonde woman made her way to grab some wine, a necessity, before searching the crowded room of familiar faces. Yet, not the face she wanted to see here. With a sip of the smooth blood red wine she simply come to the logical conclusion of you running late. Very normal and plausible, no need to panic, yet as the time trickled on she could feel the heaviness of disappointment weighing her down. Truly, the principal wanted to see you, going from seeing you every day to now hardly once a week only highlighted just how much she wanted, no needed, you in her life. Following the realization of just how she wanted you, normally her thoughts going as far to you being beneath her as she practically ascends to heaven with the sounds you make. Because of her.

Chatter and laughter rang out through the party as gifts were torn into and wrapping paper thrown everywhere, yet Larissa was struggling to find the holiday spirit knowing you weren’t here. And as per tradition Larissa was the last person to receive her secret Santa gift, a tradition she installed as she preferred to watch everyone else and bask in the joy and contentment in the room. Unlike her staff, she made sure to unwrap her gift without even tearing the beautiful paper, yet nothing gave her any clues to whom was her secret Santa.

A simplistic rose gold snow globe lay in her palms with a photo Inside the globe. With a gasp at such a thoughtful gift she almost missed then note. Almost. “I’m giggling and laughing and shouting with Glee, you’ve got another gift, but you still haven’t seen me ~ secret Santa xx“ is what the note said. Whoever her Santa was knew how much she enjoys a good riddle, and possibly that she had yet to find one she couldn’t solve. This wouldn’t be the first time for that either. Reading over the clue again and looking at her gift, with a shake and a twist the photo revealed itself, another cryptic clue. “You’ve been here before, in my dreams every night, but in reality you’ve been here twice!”

Bidding the party goodnight, the principal was quick to hurry to where she knew you’d be. The clue being painfully obvious but a reminder of the first time you and her met and that one night you shared In your room. Coach Vald gave her a knowing smile and immediately pulled his phone out to let you know she’d left. See, although you’d told Vald you weren’t going, he didn’t take that easily, managing to get you to spill your genius plan and therefore enlist him to help. By letting you know when Larissa left the party.

Your door remained unlocked, your body intricately wrapped up in wine and emerald colored ropes as you waited for the rest of the plan to set in motion. It was sexy but tasteful and that was everything you wanted this to be, so you couldn’t help the bubbles of excitement in your lower stomach at the sound of her heels clicking along the corridor. Waiting on bated breath you heard the code of knocks from your old job. One, two, three taps before the principal would enter.

If your body wasn’t so restricted you would’ve taken a picture, the blondes jaw was practically touching the floor, her blackened pupils blown wide almost suffocating the beautiful cyan blue color her eyes held normally, her cheeks adoring a pretty pink blush as her eyes raked in your appearance. “Merry Christmas Isa” you mumbled feeling slight exposed under her intense gaze. Maybe you’d done the wrong thing? Perhaps she didn’t want you the way you want her, perhaps that kiss you shared months ago was a moment of madness and that’s all. Perhaps.

Lust. The gate way drug to love for sure, the way you are trapped in her lustful gaze seemingly paralyses you both. “Fuck darlin” she drawled her British accent slipping into her words, “I think I’m in heaven” she murmured before coming close to your roped body. “It’s for you Isa, I want us to be more than boss and employee, more than one shared kiss, more than friends. I want you, and I’d very much like to be unwrapped and tied up in other more intimate and interesting ways…” you tailed off as you could visibly see Larissa battling with her mind and heart.

“Fuck it” she grunted out before slamming her lips to yours, immediately both slipping into a dance as if it had always been this way, meant to be this way even, her hands trailing over your skin and the ropes covering it. “You’re my other present?” She panted out after pulling away from your lips leaving you to whine in protest. “If you want me, your present is this” you informed before taking her hand and pressing it on the skin and rope above your heart.

“Mine” was all she managed to get out before her lips and hands were back all over you in the most deliciously sinful ways. Her painted lips staining your neck as her lips made a home there. Long Nimble fingers skilfully untying the knots to free even more of your soft plush skin to her greedy lustful gaze. And just like that, the hour you spent tying yourself up to perfection was all undone in twenty minutes by your lover. “Isa” you whined a she bit over your pulse point gently, “how did you do that so quick?” A small chuckle followed by her hands roaming everywhere and no where at the same time, “I’m no stranger to this art form darling, now can I please play with my pretty girl?”

Begging. Another thing you wouldn’t expect from the principal that practically radiates dominance with every word she says and steps she takes. But here she was begging to do more than unwrap you, to touch you. No, she wants more and who would you be to deny such a goddess? “You don’t have to beg baby, I’m yours to take, to wrap and unwrap, to make love to, to fuck like your own personal toy and to love.”

Permission given, you weren’t expecting her to be on you straight away, yet she was. The poor woman being absolutely ravenous for you, she wasn’t sure how she’d left your room after that kiss, but this was something she craved deep down since the day you met. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t fantasying over the unsuspecting woman every night. “Please Isa, wanna touch you” you whimpered in protest as she made her way down your body kissing and nipping at the soft skin along the way.

“Oh my sweet girl wants to make me feel good hmm? Shall I sit on that pretty face of yours then darling” was not what you expected to hear but yet found yourself eagerly agreeing and trying to settle the woman on your face before she even had a chance to fully undress. “Y/n! Let go or you’ll get nothing, I need to undress first” the principal squealed trying to add her dominance into her tone but failing. Sheepishly you let her go and watched as she deliberately got undressed slower now. Your silence and patience was rewarded when you were met with her soaked pussy. “Go ahead pretty girl, make me feel good sweetheart.”

And that you did, you were using every skill you knew of to ensure Larissa was getting the most pleasure possible, your tongue expertly exploring her core as your nose bumps up against her clit occasionally while she ground down against your face clearly chasing her impending orgasm. “Oh good girl, yes fuck what a talented slut you are!” caused you to hum in appreciation at the praise and for Larissa to plummet face first into the pool of pleasure, whimpering and mewling all the way for you, you happy drank everything she gave you until you were sure she’d come down from her high and shifted from your face. The sight of her own slick covering your lower face had another bubble of needy heat hitting her like a fright train. You were her own new person drug, and one she’d never quit.

Your own cunt pulsed with need after seeing how well you’d pleased your lover, so much so it distracted you enough for Larissa to expertly tie your arms above you head using the red rope and the green to tie your legs spread open for her. “Mommy” you whimpered in a confused haze causing the blonde to smirk, “that’s what you call me pretty girl? I bet you even whimper it when you make yourself cum at night don’t you?” A timid nod was really all you could do as you tried to avoid her gaze but her hand simply guided you back to look at her. “Oh yes you do because your mommys needy whore aren’t you? Has mommy not been touching you darling? Shall we give that needy pussy of yours all the attention now hmm?” Despite knowing she is goading you you couldn’t help but beg for it. After all she’s not wrong! You do need her more than oxygen itself.

It didn’t take much for you to break and tell the older woman where you kept your toys, and soon enough she’d selected her partner for the night to assist her in your pleasure without knowing she’d chosen your favourite. “Now sweet girl, you’re going to be a good girl and take what mommy gives you?” She teased, fingers playing with the slick coating your cunt and thighs. “Be good please mommy want you to fuck me” you whined squirming as best as you can until her palm met your thigh, “none of that sweet one, you’ll get what you need.”

If only you knew what that last sentence had meant before she started you would’ve tried to change her mind over the choice of toy. You’d lost count how many times she had brought you over the edge, with her mouth, the toy and a delicious combination of them both. Each orgasm growing in intensity as you thrashed against the bindings and whimpered pleads to slow down. Larissa knew your safe word, a drunk conversation months prior had you confirming it was the word light and your reasons behind it, but you hadn’t used that so of course she kept going, teasing her like this for a secret Santa deserved a little punishment. Right?

“Mo-my mommy! Can’t Isa! P-ple-ase gonna pee!” You squealed again feeling something so intense about to crash into your body. A foreign white hot pressure of pleasure threatening to wash over you if she didn’t stop this instant. “It’s okay darling, let it take you, such a good girl for mommy, go on love, soak my hand for me, that’s it good fucking girl” she praised as you gave into the overwhelmingly intense feeling. “Oh fuck fuck mommy!” You mewled desperately bucking against the toy and her mouth in a pleasurable pain as you drew that last few moments of pleasure from your body. “Wha? No more mommy please!” You whimpered causing the blonde to remove herself, the bindings and the toy from your overstimulated body and throbbing hole. “Oh god! I peed!” You gasped before trying to hide yourself In the blankets and pillows. “You didn’t sweetheart, you squirted for me. And it was so incredibly sexy darling. I can’t wait to make you do it again for me” you lay there allowing her soft tone wrap around you as the words sunk in. At some point in the silence her hand began to trail over your back and praises continued to fall from her lips. “Thank you for my most special present my little Santa” she teased with a kiss to your head and rolled you over to kiss over your heart, “I’ll cherish it forever, just like I’ll worship you forever, in this life and the next, merry Christmas darling.” Curling up in her arms listening to her heartbeat and being lulled to sleep couldn’t have made you more grateful for a secret Santa gift exchange.

Word count~ 2,637

[resowrites]

Suddenly It Happened - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry’s longtime personal assistant wonders if he’ll ever return her feelings…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, brief mention of relationship difficulties, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2040

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Suddenly It Happened - oneshot.

The door to the waiting area closed softly. She looked up to see her boss, smiling casually as he motioned for her to join him. The meeting with his publicist lasted only half an hour but she still had to drive him into central London for a day of press. Naturally, he was dressed to the nines and looking as handsome as ever. She sighed as she got into the car, wondering how despite his ever-increasing popularity, he’d managed to remain single. She'd worked closely with him for the last five years, doing all manner of tasks, many far out of her purview as a personal assistant. But Henry wasn't like the other celebrities she'd met. He was kind, humble, and undemanding, the sort of man she'd always dreamed of meeting but knew was way out of her league. Her personality was very much like his own but whereas his looks were talked about and admired the world over, she was plain and bookish. Hardly his type. But that didn't stop her from daydreaming occasionally or stealing a loving glance. She knew nothing would ever happen, and she was far too serious about her job to ever risk being so stupid. Yet still, she wondered. He looked over at her from the passenger seat, his gaze as warm as his smile. She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead "Tell me again where we're headed first?"

"The Thistle Hotel, you'll be there hopefully no more than a couple of hours. Did you manage to look over the list of questions I emailed you last night?" His smile grew wider.

"Yep, seems pretty standard stuff. Thanks for making sure there were no personal questions, though I must admit it gets a bit tedious being asked about Kal all the time..." She uncomfortably cleared her throat but otherwise said nothing. "You're still coming to the premiere next week aren't you?" 

"Of course, wouldn't miss it."

"Great, you know how uncomfortable I get at those things. All those flashing lights, the shouting, the hordes of people..."

"Well, don't worry. We'll whip you through it all pretty quickly." She tried to smile reassuringly.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. And thanks for being with me today."

"No problem. It's what I'm here for." Her voice sounded thick as she finished her sentence and she hoped she hadn't come across too awkwardly.

"No, I'm serious. You make this job a thousand times easier and I don't thank you enough for it." She smiled again but remained silent. "... Are you okay?" Her brow furrowed.

"Of course, why?"

"I dunno, you just seem a little quiet." She tried hard not to blush. Being under such close scrutiny always made her cringe.

"Oh, no I'm fine. Just running through today's checklist in my mind. I've got to email Armani's head office again, your suit for the premiere still hasn't arrived." Henry chuckled softly.

"Well, relax. You work hard enough, and I can always find another suit." She shook her head, amused. "What?!"

"It's not quite that straightforward." He harrumphed.

"Well, it ought to be. I mean it though, don't run yourself ragged--"

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a personal assistant if I didn't." She gave a tired smile and he considered her for a moment. Eventually, she had to look away. "So, who are you taking to the premiere besides your family?" Why had she asked such a thing? She felt her face turn crimson, annoyed that her desperation to change the subject had caused her to well and truly put her foot in it. She certainly had every right to know, but it was information usually offered up by the client first.

"Er, I'm not really sure at the moment..." Henry returned to looking out the passenger window and she could have kicked herself. What did it matter who he invited anyway? She knew he dated around and would probably turn up on the arm of some young starlet. For a moment she both loathed and envied them. She'd worked hard all her life for very little in return. When could she expect the happiness she read about in her books or saw in the films she watched? A melancholy thought then entered her head, that being a personal assistant was the closest she'd ever get to someone like Henry. And she supposed that was fair enough. Surely someone as rich and handsome as him deserved someone equally beautiful and successful? She caught her reflection in her wing mirror and stared crossly at it. There was no use in her pining and indulging selfish thoughts. She had a job to do. Today was all about Henry. "Did you manage to get a table at La Cuchina?"

"Yep, in the private section at your usual table." She relaxed somewhat at the thought of having lunch with him, in private he was great company to be around, always joking and telling stories.

"Brilliant, to tell you the truth I'm already famished." She suddenly remembered the bagel and pecan brownie she'd picked up at Starbucks earlier that morning just in case. Henry had a habit of missing breakfast and she hated the thought of him going hungry. 

"Reach in the glove box, I picked you up something from Starbucks." His face lit up and he happily munched away as they came closer to the hotel. As was her custom on press days, she then moved on to her usual pep talk. "Now remember to relax and have fun, we've kept the questions light and entertaining so just keep your answers brief and focused."

"Is that your way of telling me I'm long-winded?" She shifted in her chair, not quite willing to meet Henry's mischievous gaze.

"Of course not, but I know you get carried away. Especially on your favourite subjects..."

"And what might those be?"

"Well, you do love your history for starters--"

"Oh, that reminds me, I read that one you recommended about Port Royal in the eighteenth century." She glowed inwardly at the thought of him reading something she'd enjoyed.

"Oh yeah, what did you think?"

"It was fascinating... do you think I could play a pirate?" She choked on the bottle of water she was sipping from. "I take that as a 'no?'"

"Well... you might have to drop the accent." They smiled at each other. "Anyway you'd get completely obsessed in the research and muggins here would be sent off on all manner of errands--"

"And when have I ever made you do those?!"

"Are you kidding?! The guys in the Warhammer store know me by name!"

"Ooh I wonder if James will be interviewing me again?" 

"Yes, he is, but remember to stay on track--"

"You call me obsessed, that guy knows everything there is to know. I wonder if he got the custom model I sent him a couple of weeks back?"

"He did, he sent a card to the office, didn't I tell you?"

"No... though you have seemed a little distracted lately." Her brow furrowed, but she didn't get a chance to respond. "How are things going with Simon?" She was afraid Henry would bring him up. Her six-month on-and-off relationship was the last thing she wanted to discuss. The truth was she hadn't heard from Simon for several weeks. 

"Fine," she said a bit too quickly.

"... Is he joining you at the premiere? You know you're allowed to bring a guest."

"No, he's... busy." The next couple of minutes were swallowed up by an uneasy silence.

"Oh, that's a shame. It's a big night for you though, what could he possibly have to do that's more important?" She bristled slightly at the question and decided it was best not to respond. "You know, you're a good person. You deserve someone who treats you well." She felt a curious mixture of embarrassment and delight.

"Nah, I'm nothing special. Besides, I'm married to the job..."

"Tell me about it, I have the exact same problem." She couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh come on, someone like you could have anyone. I bet you're spoiled for choice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's just, you know, you're... you. Who wouldn't want that?" She regretted the words the minute they came out of her mouth and her face flushed a deep crimson.

"You'd be surprised. People don't really love me they just love whatever image of me they have in their mind."

"And what makes you think you don't match up to that?"

"Well for one, I'm not always in such great shape." Was he joking? With him, it was sometimes hard to tell. "I think people expect me to be a lot more outgoing than I am as well." That part was certainly true, she'd definitely noticed how shy and introverted Henry could be.

"Well, I'm sure you'll meet the right person eventually." To this, he didn't reply and she began to wonder if she'd overstepped.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you still working for me?" She blinked several times, at first wondering if she'd misheard him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're an intelligent, hard-working woman, don't you have an economics degree?" She hardly knew how to respond. If she explained the real reason she kept working for him he could very well leap from a moving car.

"I dunno, I like what I do I guess." Another thought then crossed her mind. "Why? Are you unhappy with my services?"

"No, of course not! You're the best. I'd be totally lost without you. I just... hope I'm not holding you back." Did he mean to keep sending mixed signals? One minute he was singing her praises and the next he was questioning why she was even in his employ.

"To be honest... I have thought about moving on." Henry snapped round to face her.

"What? Why?!"

"Cos you're right, it's not very ambitious of me to keep spinning my wheels."

"But... but I need you." She felt her heart begin to thump.

"Oh stop, you could train a chimp to do what I do."

"... Pull over."

"What? Why? Henry, we're going to be late." But his hand pointed towards a free parking space free on the left-hand side of the road. Reluctantly, she reversed into it and came to a stop. They then sat there quietly for several moments. "Henry, we really need to get going."

"... Do you hate me?"

"What? Look, we really don't have time for this, you can't miss your first interview--"

"Sod the bloody interview!" Henry's outrage almost made her jump. "Answer the question." She sighed and took the key out of the ignition, figuring they were going to be there for a while. 

"No of course I don't hate you, you're one of the nicest people I've ever known." He worked his jaw, clearly choosing his next words carefully.

"... So will you go with me?"

"With you? Where to?"

"The premiere." She stared at Henry, utterly confused.

"I already said I was! Now let's get going, otherwise, we're going to get stuck in traffic." But he put his hand over hers, causing it to jerk away from the steering wheel. 

"No, I mean... will you go with me? As my guest?" The look in her eyes was blank at first and then almost tearful. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and a horrible pit open in her stomach. She snapped off her seatbelt and bolted from the car. "Wait, where are you going?!" For nearly five minutes, Henry chased after her, eventually catching her by the wrist when she turned to head down a quiet side street. "W-where do you think you're going?!" He leaned over for a moment out of breath and she was surprised to realise she'd outrun him.

"I'm sorry... I just needed some air."

"What? Why? Did I upset you?" She bit her quivering lip.

"You know it's not very nice to tease me. I know I'm just a plain Jane from the office but it really hurt my feelings. Please don't do anything like that again." Henry just gawped at her, dumbfounded.

"You think I was joking?" But this time she felt indignation rise up through her stomach.

"Well, aren't you?!"

"Of course not!" She tried to read his expression but then backed away and scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous - what could you possibly see in me?!" The look on Henry's face was pitiful.

"... I see the sweet, gentle-natured woman who's put up with me for half a decade and gone above and beyond not only to help me but to be my friend when I've needed one most. There are so few people I can trust but with you, I can always be myself. I can't promise it'll be easy, but if you'll have me, I really hope you can be more than just a friend..." She hardly knew what to think, say, or do. These sorts of things just didn't happen, and she had a horrible feeling the trapdoor was going to open any minute.

"But... but why me?" It was his turn to look confused.

"Well, why not you? You're everything I've ever wanted. But, if you still have feelings for someone else--" she didn't let Henry finish. Instead, she threw herself into his arms and they spent the next few minutes kissing amidst the throng of passersby. 

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@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

[kingofbodyrolls]

Sprout | knj | four (fin)

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate. 

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader 

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au, non!idol au → strangers to enemies (mostly one sided) to friends to lovers 

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: explicit

Word count: 8.2K

Warnings: (somewhat) rough smut; degrading name calling (bitch), hair pulling, spanking, very brief anal fingering, some cockwarming, throat fucking, breast and nipple play, sexual tension, stupid innuendos, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please don’t be stupid), praise kink, begging, exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes 👀 big dick Joonie, creampie, aftercare — I think that’s it!

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Author’s note(1): time for smut!!!! 😝

Taglist: @svnbangtansworld

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there 🙂

You jolt awake to the insistent rhythm of a knock on your door, your senses instantly heightened as you wonder about the unexpected visitor. With a sense of urgency, you practically sprint down the stairs, only to be greeted by a wide-awake and smiling Namjoon at your doorstep.

“Good morning,” he greets with a voice that's too cheery for the early hours, making you grunt in response while you run one hand through your tousled hair, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. Your gaze lingers on him, clad in a loose-fitted black shirt that hints at the impressive contours of his chest, paired with beige shorts and sandals. In stark contrast, you become acutely aware of your own appearance, standing there in your revealing sleepwear—a slutty top with your breasts on the verge of spilling out and extremely short shorts that do nothing to hide your ass.

As you glance down at your attire, the realization of what you're wearing hits you. A subtle chuckle escapes Namjoon, and his eyes briefly trace the curve of your breasts before meeting your gaze once more.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire in a gruff tone, adding, “And this early?” You rub your tired eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“I was thinking we could hit up the plant store, just like we discussed? It opens at 8,” he suggests, flashing you a wide smile that showcases his dimples – the kind of smile that should be declared illegal.

“‘Joon, it's 7:30, and I'm not even awake yet,” you sigh, fully aware of what your answer is going to be, “but sure, let's go. I just need to get dressed and maybe caffeinate myself first.”

His eyes sparkle, eliciting a soft smile from you. “Come in and make yourself comfortable,” you invite warmly.

You guide him into your home, shutting the door gently as he slips off his sandals. Leading the way to the kitchen, you sense your shorts riding up higher on your ass. In your tired state, you don't care much, pressing forward into the kitchen.

You motion for him to take a seat, the worn chair creaking slightly beneath his weight as you get ready to brew some coffee. “Care for a cup?” you inquire, your voice warm and inviting.

He offers a gentle shake of his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Not today, but I appreciate the offer,” he responds, his eyes reflecting a grateful glint.

“Mind finishing up the coffee? I'll go change real quick,” you request, a smile gracing your lips as you set the water and kettle in motion. “Absolutely,” he responds with a nod and a warm smile, prompting you to dash upstairs to your room.

As you hurry into your room, grabbing clothes in a rush, you dive into the bathroom for a quick shower, slipping into a simple yet chic mini dress. Emerging from the bathroom, you almost collide with Jungkook.

“Woaw, you’re up early,” he chuckles, deftly avoiding a collision with you amidst your swift movements. “Yeah, Namjoon’s waiting in the kitchen,” you explain in a hurried tone as you dart past Jungkook and descend the stairs, but not before catching the suggestive dance his eyebrows perform, a mischievous tease lingering in the air.

You descend the stairs and enter the kitchen, announcing, “I’m ready now,” accompanied by a warm smile as you assess Namjoon. He gestures toward a pot, indicating the ready coffee. Swiftly, you grab a to-go cup and fill it with the aromatic brew, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you.”

As you head towards the entryway together, the anticipation lingers in the air. With synchronized movements, you slip into your shoes and jackets, and you grab your purse, the door creaking open under your anticipation.

“My car is more spacious; we can take that,” he suggests, gesturing towards his sizable SUV. Despite the practicality of his choice, you can't resist a playful eye roll and a theatrical sigh. Nevertheless, you follow him towards his car.

You settle into the car as the engine roars to life, and he skillfully maneuvers out of the driveway and onto the road. It becomes evident rather quickly that driving might not be his forte. He chuckles, breaking the silence, “Apologies for the driving skills; I’m not behind the wheel often,” he confesses, taking a turn down a road. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. “I usually opt for my bike, better for the environment, you know. The only downside is the limited space.”

Your laughter grows louder, imagining Namjoon on his bike, attempting to navigate with an armful of plants. The mental image paints a comical scene, and you find yourself amused by the thought of him juggling between green companions and handlebars.

Your laughter continues, and you playfully suggest, “I can take the wheel on the way back, unless you trust your driving skills with the precious cargo.” Namjoon grins, “Maybe that's a good idea; I wouldn't want to risk any harm to my leafy companions.”

The plant store is a vibrant kaleidoscope of nature's wonders, with a plethora of beautiful specimens beckoning you both. From delicate baby plants to towering giants, the colors span the spectrum – a mesmerizing dance of greens, reds, purples, yellows, and blues. Armed with a cart, your excitement and giddiness know no bounds as you traverse the aisles, eagerly exploring the rich tapestry of botanical treasures the store has to offer.

With swift determination, Namjoon seizes bundles of essential soil packages, and inspired by his decisiveness, you follow suit, eager to replenish your own gardening arsenal.

As your gaze flits over the indoor greenery, nothing quite captures your interest. However, Namjoon's discovery of a tempting citrus tree triggers thoughts of the fruit trees lingering in your mind. Eagerly, you venture outside to explore the vast array of possibilities. Amid the selection of fruit trees—apples, pears, cherries, and beyond—you hone in on the apple varieties. With purpose, you seek out two distinct types, envisioning a harmonious pollination dance between them.

Namjoon eagerly adds to his haul with a selection of berry bushes, opting for the exquisite allure of blueberries and the tantalizing vibrancy of raspberries.

After a rewarding three-hour exploration through the vibrant aisles of the store, your shopping adventure concludes with a car filled to the brim. Grateful for Namjoon's spacious vehicle, you navigate the challenge of fitting an assortment of soil packages, fruit trees, and bushes. Some of the taller trees find refuge in the backseat, a testament to the abundance of greenery that now accompanies you on the journey home.

Namjoon casually passes you the keys, muttering, “It's better for the plants that way.” Amused, you respond with a chuckle, taking control of the wheel. Upon reaching home, a collaborative effort unfolds as both of you unload the treasures acquired during your plant-filled escapade.

Namjoon's housewarming party looms ahead, and you find yourself both excited and slightly jittery at the thought of mingling with his rowdy and boisterous friends—individuals you've been quietly cursing under your breath since he first moved in all those months ago.

You've spent hours contemplating what to wear for Namjoon's housewarming party, seeking Jungkook's fashion expertise. He meticulously evaluates every dress in your closet, categorizing them from boring to sexy. Jungkook insists on opting for something enticing to captivate Namjoon's attention, and thus, here you stand, navigating the fine line between alluring and elegant.

Maintaining a deadpan expression, Jungkook casually throws you a bold question amidst his dress scrutiny. “Do you know if Namjoon’s an ass or tits man?” His gaze remains fixated on the dresses, and you're momentarily taken aback by his crude inquiry. However, given the unfiltered nature of your friendship, you offer a nonchalant response, “I don’t know. I’ve seen him staring at both before,” accompanied by a shrug, unsure if that tidbit helps him in any way.

Jungkook continues his quest through your closet, finally emerging triumphant with a suggestion, “Then I suggest a bodycon; tight fit that shows everything.” After thorough searching, he presents a black dress that strikes the right balance, revealing just the perfect amount of cleavage and boasting a midi length that adds a touch of elegance.

You let out a groan of frustration as you eye the bodycon dress on the bed. “You know I hate bodycon dresses,” you sigh. Jungkook chuckles, “I guess that’s why you only have one of them,” he teases as he throws the dress onto your bed. Undeterred, he continues rummaging through your closet, emerging with a pair of purple glitter boots. “Since your dress is black, pair it with these purple glitter heels,” he suggests with a mischievous grin.

You share a laugh with Jungkook, realizing that the vibrant purple glitter heels add a playful touch to the overall look. The dress, initially exuding a somewhat somber vibe, now seems to embrace a more lively and celebratory feel, thanks to Jungkook's unconventional styling suggestion.

Jungkook playfully teases, his eyes dancing with mischief and a mischievous grin revealing his adorable teeth. “I think you’re gonna get laid tonight,” he adds, punctuating the statement with a suggestive wink of his eyebrows.

“It's a party, Guk,” you reprimand him, a playful glint in your eyes as you try to hide the hopeful anticipation that bubbles beneath the surface. You don't entirely dismiss Jungkook's playful prediction, secretly hoping that amidst the lively atmosphere and Namjoon's friends, a spark might ignite between you and Namjoon.

“You never know what's gonna happen,” he shrugs, leaving you to prepare at your own pace. While he swiftly readies himself – donning a simple white tee that accentuates his sculpted physique, showcasing biceps and muscles chiseled in hours at the gym, paired with leather skinny jeans that emphasize his powerful thighs – you can't help but admire the effortless appeal he exudes.

“Planning to seduce someone?” you chuckle, your gaze roaming over him. “That outfit is killer, you know.”

“Nah, maybe. You never know,” he laughs, reveling in his undeniable charm. Jungkook has been the same ever since you met him when he moved in. Always drawing attention, and over the years, he's become your trusted fashion advisor, helping you enhance your outfits to capture the spotlight. You cherish him like the brother you never had.

You knock on Namjoon's door, but the pulsating beat of the music suggests he won't hear it. Rolling your eyes, you glance at Jungkook, who chuckles and casually swings the door open, ushering you inside the lively atmosphere.

The crowd is surprisingly small, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and warmth among friends. As you navigate through the living room, you exchange greetings with familiar faces, some of whom you remember from that memorable BBQ where Namjoon inadvertently wreaked havoc on your fence and garden bed.

Several of his friends cast you a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the shared memory when Namjoon accidentally wreaked havoc on your fence, and you didn't hesitate to give him a stern scolding.

You stride into the kitchen, boldly interrupting the banter between Namjoon and his friend who's manning the stove. “Hey,” you greet, causing both Namjoon and his friend to pivot and direct their attention toward you and Jungkook.

“Oh, hi,” his friend, Yoongi, greets you, offering his hand. As you shake it and share your name, you detect a subtle recognition flicker in his eyes. It clicks. “Ah, you're the one Joon has been telling us about,” he observes, scrutinizing you from head to toe. In that moment, you feel strangely exposed, wishing you had chosen a more modest outfit. The realization that Namjoon has been discussing you raises a mix of curiosity and uncertainty within you.

Namjoon pivots fully to meet you, and as his eyes roam your entire figure, his steps stutter to a halt. From your face down to those ridiculously purple glitter heels, he takes in every detail. The noticeable gaze sends a tingling warmth across your skin, and you're acutely aware of his thorough inspection. In a breathless, warm tone, Namjoon greets you, “Hi, I'm so glad you came,” his words hanging in the air. Yoongi chuckles, Jungkook joins in, and the atmosphere seems to shift with Namjoon's lingering gaze.

“Dinner’s almost ready, you can take a drink if you want,” Namjoon gestures toward the assortment of beverages as Yoongi orchestrates the final touches to the meal.

You and Jungkook make your way to the kitchen table, where he expertly pours the two of you drinks. As you head back to the living room, the hubbub of the gathering surrounds you, and you notice the diverse crowd filling Namjoon's space with laughter and conversation.

He teases you with a sly grin, “He was totally checking out your ass,” as you both approach a group of people you greeted upon arriving. You respond with a playful chuckle, dismissing the comment but secretly reveling in the idea that Namjoon's attention might be focused on you.

An audacious man points his finger at you with a big boxy smile and declares, “Hey, you're that bitchy neighbor, right?” The desire to react with anger simmers within you, but instead, you offer a forced smile and reply, “Yeah, that's me.” The guy's friend beside him shoots him a disapproving look, muttering something about politeness.

“Don't mind him, I'm Jimin,” the guy who intervened extends his hand for a shake. You grasp it firmly, exchanging names not only with him but also with Jungkook, who lingers at your side.

“I'm Taehyung,” the guy who boldly labeled you the ‘bitchy neighbor’ introduces himself, still wearing a wide grin. Unfazed by his straightforwardness, you flash a warm smile in return, appreciating the honesty.

“I'm Hoseok,” the guy beside them chimes in, a radiant smile lighting up his face.

Before you know it, Yoongi, the guy crafting the delicious dinner, sets the final masterpiece on the dining table. As you all converge around the table, you find yourself seated next to Jungkook and Taehyung. Conversations flow effortlessly, everyone sharing stories about how they know Namjoon – college buddies, coworkers, childhood friends. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, making you feel surprisingly at home in this new circle of acquaintances. Despite the brief encounter, these individuals excel at weaving a sense of inclusion and hospitality, effortlessly transforming strangers into companions.

Despite the lively chatter and delicious food, you can't help but catch Namjoon stealing occasional glances in your direction. Determined to maintain your composure, you divert your attention to savoring the flavors on your plate, pretending not to notice the warmth of his gaze lingering on you.

As lively conversations intertwine with the clinking of cutlery and empty plates, you gradually become aware of the music's subdued presence. Jimin initiates the plate-clearing ritual, and you join in to assist. Meanwhile, Hoseok, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, strides into the living room and cranks up the volume, signaling an imminent eruption of rhythmic movements, suggesting he's ready to unleash some dance-floor magic.

With a playful smile, you turn to Jimin and inquire, “Is it always like this?” Your gaze follows the fluid motions of Hoseok, who has seamlessly transitioned into a mesmerizing dance routine, eliciting a spontaneous chuckle from you.

“Pretty much,” he replies with a chuckle, arranging plates in the dishwasher.

“It's a pity that Taehyung's girlfriend and Hoseok's couldn't make it today. Hoseok's girlfriend loves to dance, and watching her and Hoseok dance is always a blast!” he shares with a smile. Jungkook has now joined Hoseok in dancing, while Namjoon and Yoongi unwind on the couch. Taehyung is pitching in, helping you and Jimin clean up.

“Your friend Jungkook, what's his story?” Jimin inquires, his eyes tracing Jungkook's muscular frame as he effortlessly matches Hoseok's dance moves.

You chuckle, and then Taehyung interjects, “He's wondering if Jungkook is single.” He clarifies for Jimin, who blushes as he shuts the dishwasher.

You turn to Jimin, “Well, he is single. I've never seen him with a man before, but you should give it a shot,” you say, smiling at him. His face brightens, a wide smile forming until his eyes disappear into small slits. Both you and Taehyung chuckle as Jimin heads into the living room to join the dance.

You both follow him, seamlessly joining the dancing crowd. You instantly locate Jungkook, who winks suggestively with his eyebrows as he grips your hips, swaying you to the beat of the music. You understand his intentions – to help you grab Namjoon's attention. It seems to be working, as you feel a pair of hazel brown eyes igniting your skin with warmth.

Jimin effortlessly joins the dancing, grinding up against your body. With the attention of the two men, you can't help but laugh as they're on a mission to make Namjoon jealous.

You catch sight of Namjoon on the couch, his fists clenching intermittently as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you, alternating his gaze whenever he senses yours on him.

Worn out from the lively dance and the touch of both Jungkook and Jimin, you retreat to the kitchen for a much-needed break. Amidst the array of alcoholic beverages, you choose a refreshing sip of water to rejuvenate your senses.

A soft “Hi” catches your attention from behind, and as you turn, there stands Namjoon. It seems like Jungkook's strategic plan to capture his interest might just be unfolding before you.

“Hi,” you reply to Namjoon, turning gracefully to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips as your eyes meet his.

He envelops your personal space in an instant, but the proximity feels electrifying rather than intrusive. His gaze sweeps down, the height difference smaller because of your heels. “You look incredibly sexy,” he murmurs, his words sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Thank you, so do you,” you reply, your eyes tracing the contours of his fitted gray shirt, the black dress pants accentuating his silhouette, and his hair styled in a soft undercut. A subtle gulp betrays the sudden rush of arousal that courses through you. Damn, he looks more than nice; he looks irresistible.

His lips brush against your ear as he leans in, his husky whisper sending a shiver down your spine, “I bet you look even sexier without those clothes on.”

A barely audible, breathy moan escapes your lips, your agreement conveyed through a subtle nod. His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, electrifying every inch of your body. Yet, the hunger for more lingers, an insatiable desire pulsating within you.

With a teasing and audacious tone, you declare, “There's only one way to find out.” 

As a provocative invitation, you lower the neckline of your dress ever so slightly, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze quickly descends, and he licks his lips in response, muttering a husky “Damn.”

He leans in again, gently nibbling on your ear, his breath hot as he pants, “Fuck. I want you so much.” A mischievous glint in his eyes, he adds, “Do you want to take a look at my seedling collection in my room?”

A playful chuckle escapes your lips, yet your body responds with a cascade of tingles, every inch of your skin on high alert. “Yes,” you moan, pressing your body against his, acutely aware of the undeniable evidence of his erection.

He seizes your hand, a magnetic pull guiding you out of the bustling kitchen and into the mysterious path leading, you presume, to his bedroom.

Surprised, you stammer, “What about the others?” as he whisks you away from the lively gathering.

Confidently, he declares, “They have their music, and they won't mind us disappearing for an hour,” pulling you through the hallway with a mischievous grin, “or two.”

You can't help but chuckle, but as his words finally penetrate your foggy mind, a new surge of arousal courses through your core. You gulp, groaning at the anticipation of what his words imply.

In no time, you reach his room. He swiftly opens the door, pulling you inside, and without hesitation, he pushes you against the nearest wall, hovering over you. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but finding none, he dives into a kiss. It's a blend of softness and intensity, his lips feeling inviting as you instinctively open your mouth, welcoming the dance of his tongue with yours.

The kiss lingers until you both reluctantly break apart for a much-needed breath, chests heaving in sync with the rapid beat of your hearts. His gaze, now hooded, remains fixed on your lips, and his hands firmly grasp your hips, the intensity between you growing with each passing moment.

He breathlessly murmurs your name, his desperation palpable, “You have no idea how much I want you.”

It sends shivers down your spine as you bite your lower lip, anticipation building. “Show me,” you pant in a ragged voice, yearning for the intensity that awaits.

He pulls you towards his bed, the air thick with anticipation as he slowly eases you down onto the soft sheets. Your gaze locks with his, desire burning in your eyes; an unspoken plea for him to ravish you, to consume the hunger that has been building between you for so long.

His fingers trail over your body, igniting a symphony of shivers that course through you, causing a hitch in your breath as he explores the landscape of your body.

His voice, laced with a hunger that mirrors the intensity in his gaze, whispers a question that sets your skin ablaze. 

“Can I taste you?” 

The air thickens with anticipation, and you're certain that if he doesn't touch you soon, you might just combust.

“Please,” your plea, drawn out in a breathless moan, echoes in the room, and you feel your toes curl with anticipation, a symphony of desire playing between every gasp and heartbeat.

He wastes no time, swiftly dragging your dress up your hips to your stomach. A pause lingers as he appreciates the sight of your black lacy underwear, before he skillfully tugs them down your thighs and lets them pool at your feet and drags them to the floor.

“What about my shoes?” you playfully remark as you attempt to kick them off, but he swiftly captures your legs before you can make much progress.

“Keep them on. They're cute.” 

He murmurs, a low, seductive tone that sends shivers down your spine. Your breath catches, and a wave of need tightens your core, leaving you aching for more.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs with a hungry gaze, absorbing the sight of your glistening pussy, ready to explore every inch of it.

“Fuck, you're already so wet,” he groans, his hands kneading your thighs, eliciting moans of delight as his skilled fingers inch closer to where you need him the most.

He inches closer and closer with his hands, teasingly tracing the contours of your thighs, but then, with a seductive glint in his eyes, he redirects his attention to your core. Your gaze locks with his as he licks his lips in anticipation before finally sealing the deal, his mouth enveloping your slick, pulsating pussy.

“Ahhh–”

His tongue skillfully explores your folds, sending a shiver down your spine as you involuntarily arch your back off the bed, caught in the electrifying sensation. As he moves to your clit, a wave of tightness starts to coil in your stomach.

His expert mouth engulfs your clit, creating a tantalizing suction that has you gripping the sheets, your mind teetering on the edge of bliss. He hasn’t even done much yet  an overwhelming sense of ecstasy washes over you, pushing you to the brink of sweet surrender.

Simultaneously, his skilled fingers continue their rhythmic massage on your thighs. “Fuck, don't stop,” you moan, lost in the intoxicating blend of sensations that envelops you.

He devours your clit with an insatiable hunger, his tongue moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. Every flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

Then he pulls off, “You like that?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He returns to his task with newfound determination, his tongue expertly dancing over your throbbing clit. Your fingers entwine in his hair, tugging at the strands as he skillfully sucks and laps, each deliberate move coaxing euphoric sounds from your lips, punctuated by the desperate call of his name.

Embarrassment is a distant thought as pleasure courses through you, driven by the divine dance of his tongue on your sensitive bud. Wetness coats your core, and in the throes of ecstasy, you abandon all reservations. “I'm so close, Joon,” escapes your lips, a raw admission of the impending climax.

As his tongue continues its tantalizing assault on your clit, a single finger joins the sensual ballet, probing the entrance to your pussy. Your walls eagerly envelop the intruding digit, the dual stimulation propelling you perilously close to the edge of climax.

Your moans cascade into the air like a melody as he rhythmically thrusts his finger in and out of you, a symphony of pleasure coursing through your body. The withdrawal of his digit leaves you yearning, but the anticipation peaks as his slickened finger teases your untouched hole. Shivers dance along your spine as you feel the subtle pressure against the resistance of your muscles, inviting an exhilarating mix of pleasure and anticipation.

“N-Namjoon…” 

You whimper, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight below. His eyes are darkened pools of desire, mirroring the intensity of the sensations he orchestrates with his skillful tongue. The explicit symphony of wet, rhythmic sounds reverberates in the room, a sinful melody that only adds to the fire between you both.

His insistent finger nudges at your hole, and you instinctively clench, a mix of anticipation and slight discomfort coursing through you. Yet, his agile tongue at your clit becomes a captivating distraction, a skillful dance that forces your focus away from the pressure building elsewhere. As you struggle to ease the tension in your body, your breath quickens, and you transform into a panting, quivering mess beneath his intoxicating touch.

In a haze of pleasure, you're suddenly aware of the delicate pressure of his teeth on your clit. The sensation is subtle yet electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body. Your voice echoes in a cry of his name, the walls of your core clenching around the emptiness, while your senses blur in a whirlwind of ecstasy. As you struggle to regain control of your breathing, the world around you fades into a euphoric abyss.

As your climax courses through you, he withdraws his finger from your tight hole, but his fervent attention on your folds persists. His tongue dances with expertise, devouring the sweet juice that envelops his taste buds.

“You taste so sweet.” 

Savoring the lingering taste of your sweetness, he licks his lips lasciviously as he withdraws from your core. Gazing upon your breathless and flushed figure sprawled on his bed, he can't help but chuckle, a low and satisfied sound, at the intoxicating impact he's already had on you.

“Dammit, Namjoon.”

Frustration and desire intertwine as you sit up, urgently pulling Namjoon between your legs to seize his lips in a passionate kiss. In the heat of the moment, you inadvertently taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t mind.

With a sultry gaze, you break away from his lips, locking eyes with him as you confess, “I want to suck your dick.”

As your seductive words hang in the air, you notice his pupils dilate even further, and he inhales sharply, taking a deliberate step back, visibly affected by the promise in your desire-laden confession.

“I don't know,” he begins, and you raise an intrigued eyebrow at him. 

“You haven't exactly been a good girl,” he adds, his tone taking on a tantalizing edge. You gape at his unexpected words, your mind racing to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor. 

“Why should I let you suck my dick when you’ve been so bad?”

Your jaw actually drops, and you're left perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. “I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you respond, your voice a mixture of confusion and desire, trying to navigate the unexpected turn in the conversation.

A mischievous smirk graces his lips, and he offers a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, you glued my mailbox together,” he utters, and as the words escape his mouth, a realization hits you like a ton of bricks — is he still holding onto your past antics from when he first moved in?

A sly grin plays on his lips. “And threw eggs on my windows,” he teases, and you're left dumbfounded. His arousal is evident with a prominent bulge in his pants, leaving you puzzled as to why he's resurrecting this conversation now.

“Wanted to blow my tire,” he chuckles, his hand casually finding its way to his erect cock, inviting your gaze. “If you want this,” he gestures to his throbbing dick, “you'll need to apologize and beg like a proper bitch.”

You inhale sharply at his audacious demand, a shiver coursing down your spine. The challenge is clear. Two can play this game, and you're more than ready to meet his provocative request head-on.

You bat your eyes at him, rising to meet him at the foot of the bed, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “So it's going to be like that, huh? What if I don't want to apologize, because I already have?” Your voice drops to a sultry whisper as you tease him, fingers boldly grabbing the outline of his cock outside his pants, eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips.

His tone oozes mock disappointment. “Fine, I suppose I'll just go join the others,” he declares, a smug smile playing on his lips, leaving you to wonder if he's bluffing or genuinely preparing to walk away.

“With this tent in your pants?”

With a teasing smirk, you glance down at the noticeable bulge in his pants and then meet his eyes again. Chuckling nervously, the realization dawns on you that he might just be speaking the truth.

“I don’t mind,” nonchalantly, he shrugs his shoulders as he backs away from you, and a sense of panic creeps in because, damn, he wasn't kidding about walking away!

But an overwhelming desire surges through you, an urgent need for him, for his intimacy. You crave to taste him, to feel him deep inside. Damn it, you'll have to surrender to the yearning and beg for the pleasure you so desperately crave.

Your voice is a breathy plea, eyes locked onto his, a mixture of desire and vulnerability. 

“Please,” you implore, the longing in your eyes laying bare your desperate craving to taste him.

“Please let me suck your dick.”

He saunters over, a playful glint in his eyes. “And?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you, leaving you biting your lower lip in a mix of anticipation and frustration.

You take a deep breath, your admission hanging in the air, “I'm sorry, I was a bitch to you.”

His satisfaction evident, he swiftly lowers both his pants and underwear in a single motion, unveiling his impressive cock—long, thick, with a captivating crimson hue at the tip. Your breath catches at the sight, a gasp escaping your lips as it comes into full view.

“Good girl. Then suck it.”

He commands, and you gracefully descend to your knees. Your tongue darts out, tracing your lips as you fixate on the glistening bead of precum adorning the crown of his cock.

With purposeful intent, your hands envelop his pulsating cock, eliciting a guttural groan of longing from him as your fingers methodically traverse its rigid length.

“Don't toy with me,” he cautions, his voice imbued with a mixture of desire and command as he utters your name.

You playfully scoff at his attitude, but your boldness shines through as you extend your tongue, sliding it beneath the swollen tip of his dick. Locking eyes with him, you tease away the glistening droplets of precum. His sharp intake of breath transforms into a low moan when you engulf the head of his throbbing cock with your warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck!”

You skillfully trace your tongue around his frenulum, causing a visceral reaction. His head arches backward, and his fingers instinctively weave into your hair, applying a gentle, insistent tug as if he’s unable to contain the escalating pleasure.

You release his cock from your mouth, allowing saliva to pool and gather as you sensually prepare for another round. With deliberate intent, you envelop him once more, eliciting breathy pants from him as your wet, warm mouth expertly glides up and down, leaving his dick coated in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

With a firm grip on his hips, you delve into the art of pleasuring him, expertly creating a vacuum with your lips that draws out moans of pleasure. As you suck him, the wetness between your thighs intensifies, a tangible manifestation of your arousal responding to the symphony of his reactions.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

As his moans echo in the room, his praise serves as a potent catalyst, igniting a fiercer desire within you. Eager for more, you boldly take more of his cock, skillfully deep-throating him until the meeting point of your nose and his coarse pubic hair.

“Ah, fuck.”

As you skillfully relax your mouth, the enticing vibrations of your hum reverberate around his throbbing dick, eliciting a deeper response. His hands, entwined in the makeshift ponytail of your hair, tug with a mixture of urgency and pleasure, amplifying the intensity.

Breathless and with desire darkening his gaze, he implores, “Fuck. WIll you let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?”

His eyes linger on your face, adorned with the evidence of your oral prowess, your lips glistening with your saliva by being filled to the brim with his thick cock.

You echo your consent with a sultry hum around his dick, your subtle nod accentuating the deliberate relaxing of your throat and jaw, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth.

“God. You’re such a good girl for me.” 

He forcefully tugs at your hair, eliciting a hiss around his cock. With a firm hand, he guides your face deeper into his pubic hair. You concentrate on relaxing, taking slow breaths to stave off the impending gag reflex. Just as you feel the sensation building, he withdraws, leaving you to glance up with anticipation, wondering what's wrong.

“You’re doing so good.”

His tender reassurance, accompanies a gentle brush of his fingers, wiping away a lone tear cascading down your cheek. A genuine smile graces your lips in response. The warmth of his praise sends a delightful flutter through your stomach, your core responding with an involuntary clench.

“I’ll fuck you real good after this,” his promise hangs in the air like an electrifying vow, resonating with a potent mixture of desire and anticipation. The command in his pull at your hair is met with your compliance, as he deftly aligns his dick with your waiting mouth. A mutual understanding passes between you, and you intentionally relax, allowing him to dictate the rhythm and intensity.

The tempo of his movements becomes an immediate onslaught, a relentless pace that leaves you breathless. His thrusts into your mouth are a whirlwind of intensity, each one demanding your full attention and challenging your ability to keep up.

The room resonates with a symphony of wet, slurping sounds, a visceral accompaniment to the mingling of your tears and saliva that forms a slick, glistening sheen on his cock. The dance of his relentless thrusts is now an unhindered glide, running smoothly over your lips.

Amidst the ecstasy, he moans appreciatively, “You've been a real bitch,” yet his words carry a tone of undeniable pleasure. “But, fuck, you look divine like this.” 

He continues to thrust into your mouth, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Can't talk back with your mouth full, huh?”

Damn, his menacing words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a wild fire of arousal pooling within your core. Attempting to respond, only a muffled hum escapes your lips against his pulsating cock, prompting him to moan your name in ecstasy.

“Fuck. I’m so close.”

His thrusts intensify, desire burning in his eyes as he seeks permission, “I really want to come inside your pussy, can I?”

Your muffled hum around him ignites a primal response, “Fuck. You’re so good for me, baby girl. I want to fuck you so bad, you won’t be able to walk out of here.”

Your pussy tightens in response to his words. Fuck, the thought alone sends a shiver through your body. You can already sense the wetness trickling down your thighs, aching for more of his intoxicating touch.

As he withdraws from your mouth, you gasp for air, inhaling in rapid breaths. His gentle touch caresses your cheek, accompanied by a soft smile. Transitioning from the kneeling position, he releases his hold on your hair, bringing you to a standing position before him. A hiss escapes your lips at the pull, yet it ignites a torrent of arousal, leaving you groaning in pleasure.

His command slices through the air, “On all fours,” he orders, a subtle gesture guiding your movements toward the bed. Swiftly, you comply, positioning yourself on hands and knees, anticipation coursing through every nerve.

His breath catches as he admires the breathtaking sight, “Fuck, your ass is incredible.” 

A pause lingers as he indulges in the moment, his hands gently caressing the curves before a sharp slap echoes through the room, eliciting a moan from you—a sound that draws a light, satisfied chuckle from him.

As he sheds the last of his clothes, standing there in raw vulnerability, he motions for you to rise and shed the remnants of your dress. With a swift motion, he pulls the fabric away, revealing a matching lace bra that barely conceals the anticipation underneath. Skillfully unhooking it from behind, he lets it join the growing pile on the floor, laying bare the desires that crackle between you.

His hands envelop your breasts from behind, skillfully rolling and tugging at your sensitive nipples, coaxing a hiss that transforms into a sultry moan. 

“Get down,” he commands, releasing your breasts, and you obediently return to your hands and knees, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric charge.

As you arch your back, pressing your ass into him, the electric jolt of sensation courses through your body, the meeting of your ass with his throbbing cock igniting a fervent desire within. The yearning for him to fill you overwhelms your senses, aching for the ecstasy that awaits.

With a firm grip, he parts your cheeks, molding them as though shaping the most exquisite sculpture, and a prolonged moan escapes your lips, echoing the building tension between you. His touch, both commanding and sensual, sends shivers down your spine.

“You like it when I grope your ass?” 

His teasing tone resonates with the intimate caresses on your backside, creating a delicious interplay of sensations. As he playfully gropes your ass once more, a moan, laden with desire, spills from your lips.

“Yes, Joon.” 

As his hand connects with the curve of your ass, a jolt of both pain and pleasure surges through you, a visceral reminder that each spank is a tantalizing dance between ecstasy and a hint of sting. You can't help but release a breathy exclamation, caught in the intoxicating paradox of pleasure and the fiery imprint of his touch.

“Fuck!”

His fingers trace the tender spot left by the impact, a gentle contrast to the impending intensity. The warmth of his touch lingers just long enough before the other cheek receives the caress of his firm hand. With a husky promise, he murmurs, “Such a good girl. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

In response to his tantalizing vow, a needy moan escapes your lips, fueling the building desire within. Eager for his touch, you press your ass further toward him. He complies, his hand skimming over his throbbing cock before parting your slickened folds. With an electrifying precision, he guides his dick to the brink of your quivering entrance.

Sensations surge through you as the velvety tip of his cock teases your folds. Surrendering to the impending ecstasy, you bury your breasts and head into the bed, anticipating the irresistible intrusion. With a deliberate and tantalizing pace, he eases himself into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, setting off a cascade of pleasure that envelops you both.

“Fuck! You’re so big, ugh!”

Ecstatic moans escape your lips as the sheer magnitude of his size overwhelms your senses. You're acutely aware of the delicious stretch coursing through your core, a blend of pleasure and challenge. Summoning every ounce of willpower, you command your body to yield, coaxing it to embrace the monumental intrusion and paving the way for him to delve deeper into you, transforming lingering discomfort into a symphony of desire.

“Damn. You’re so tight,” his grip tightens on your ass, fingers sinking into the flesh as he thrusts himself deeper into the velvety warmth of your pussy. A guttural moan escapes his lips, resonating through the room as he relishes the tightness that envelops him. With each inch, a shared ecstasy unfurls, culminating in a breathless admission, “Your little pussy is taking me so well.”

An electrifying fullness courses through you as he seamlessly integrates into the heated embrace of your slick folds. The initial stretch fades into a delicious satisfaction, a testament to the perfect fit between your bodies. His whispered inquiry, “Are you good?” hangs in the air, a prelude to the rhythmic dance about to unfold.

“Fuck, yeah. Please fuck me Joon.”

Your impassioned plea reverberates through the room, a desperate cry into the sheets. Almost in response, he retreats, teasingly withdrawing before plunging back in with a force that elicits an unrestrained cry, the fusion of pleasure and intensity echoing in the air.

“Ahhh!”

He propels into a relentless and rapid rhythm from the outset, causing your fingers to curl tightly around the sheets. As the pace intensifies, a thin sheen of saliva from your parted lips marks the bedding.

His voice, rough and primal, reverberates in the room as he plunges into you with unbridled intensity. “Fuck. You feel so nice around me, babe,” he rasps, each forceful thrust hitting that exquisite spot, setting off a symphony of moans that escape your lips in a relentless, intoxicating cadence.

Your uninhibited moans echo in the room, a symphony of pleasure that drowns in the pulsating beats of the music. In the haze of passion, you're blissfully unaware of how loud you are, and with each intense thrust, you find solace in the hope that the music's thunderous rhythm conceals your shared symphony from the prying ears of his friends—although, in this heated moment, who gives a fuck?

“Namjoon, shit!” you pant, surrendering to the primal rhythm, arching your back and meeting his dick with fervor. Every thrust becomes a shared dance, an intimate symphony where your movements mirror his, creating a crescendo of pleasure that resonates through the room.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl for me. Fucking yourself on me like this, fuck.”

His hands, explorers on a sensual journey, traverse every curve of your body with a possessive grace. With a firm grip on your hair, he elevates you onto your knees, commanding your body like a masterpiece. His skilled hands then trace a tantalizing path, cupping your breasts, and his fingers dance over your nipples, coaxing forth a symphony of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck.” Your moan harmonizes with the relentless rhythm of his hips, each thrust orchestrating a crescendo of pleasure that leaves your core drenched in a fresh cascade of arousal.

His fingers dance on your sensitive nipples, an exquisite melody that resonates with the building intensity of your pleasure. You're on the precipice, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, breath hitching. 

“Shit— I'm close!” 

As he releases one of your tender breasts, that liberated hand embarks on a journey south, landing at your aching core. His skilled fingers find your swollen clit instantly, tracing circles that send electric shocks of pleasure through your body. A raw, uninhibited moan escapes your lips, a testament to the sweet agony he effortlessly orchestrates.

His voice, a low and husky melody, reverberates in your ear, electrifying your senses. “Just like that, babe,” he moans, each word a caress, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “Cream my cock,” he implores, his desire echoing in the air like a sultry command.

Overwhelming sensations surge through your body, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by his skillful touch. The relentless rhythm of his thrusts, the expert manipulation of your nipples, and the teasing strokes on your clit become a sensory overload. It's an intoxicating concoction, pushing you past the edge. The coil within you finally unravels, your walls contracting around his cock, squeezing him tight. In the symphony of ecstasy, he releases a strangled moan, a harmonious blend of desire and fulfillment.

Your body becomes a vessel of pleasure, every gasp for air feels like an accomplishment. Namjoon relentlessly maintains the pace, a symphony of passion playing between you. “Namjoon,” you whimper in a strangled voice, the intensity leaving you sounding distant even to your own ears. Your vision blurs with white spots, a kaleidoscope of sensations overwhelming your senses. The weight of ecstasy takes hold, your body feeling both heavy and weightless. 

Unable to sustain yourself on your knees, you surrender to the intoxicating euphoria, slumping your head onto the bed, finding solace in the soft embrace of the sheets.

Namjoon holds your ass up, his thrusts becoming a frenzied dance, each movement a passionate punctuation in and out of your convulsing pussy.

“Almost there, babe. Fuck. You just clenched around me even tighter.” he seizes your hips with a firmer grip, plunging into you with more depth, and you muffle your moans into the sheets, desperately clinging to the sensations coursing through you.

He trails his fingers along your spine for a fleeting moment, and then, with a sudden slap to one of your ass cheeks, he accentuates the contrast by tenderly stroking the very spot he just struck. “You're incredible,” he breathes, his touch a symphony of pleasure and pain.

With a final series of deep, powerful thrusts, he slams into you, releasing a torrent of warm, white fluid that coats the walls of your pussy. His subsequent thrusts, though slowing down, maintain a sensual rhythm, drawing out the euphoric connection between your bodies.

“Fucking hell. That was mind-blowing,” he pants, his hands finding a temporary refuge on the curve of your ass as he endeavors to catch his breath. A few beads of his sweat cascade from his forehead, tracing a path down onto your skin. You tilt your head, still recovering your own breath, and respond, “Yeah it was.”

He tenderly strokes your ass cheeks, his softened dick still nestled within you. The gentle caresses feel exquisite, though you become aware of his essence gradually seeping out, tracing a languid path down your thighs.

He remains embedded within your warm pussy until you murmur, “Joon, I'm too exhausted to stay like this.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns along your ass and spine before withdrawing his cock, leaving you to groan in the void it creates. A cascade of your combined releases trails down your thighs, and as Namjoon spreads your ass cheeks, he admires the aftermath. 

“Damn, you look incredible,” he murmurs, his lips descending to kiss the intimate blend of his essence and your arousal on your pussy.

You moan, your body still tingling with sensitivity, and you slump onto the bed, utterly spent. Namjoon chuckles, joining you in a languid sprawl beside you.

Lying side by side, you both catch your breaths while Namjoon spoons you. The intimacy is soothing, his rapid heartbeat against your back almost lulling you to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hand trace a path from your hips down your thigh, sending a shiver through you. 

“I'll clean you up,” he murmurs, breaking the post-passion silence with a promise.

He ascends from the bed, retrieving towels from a drawer to delicately cleanse the intimate aftermath between your legs. Each touch elicits a moan, and you're grateful for the tender care he showers on you. 

“Thank you” you sigh, the words carrying a weight of appreciation and a lingering sense of intimacy.

“No problem,” his response comes effortlessly, and he settles onto the edge of the bed, a casual ease in his demeanor.

He breaks the silence, a hint of nervousness in his voice as his hand grazes the back of his head, then he pops the question, “I was actually thinking... if you want to go out on a date with me?”

You shift your body to face him, a tender smile playing on your lips as you reply, “I'd absolutely love that, Namjoon.”

As your fingers intertwine with his, a genuine smile lights up his face, revealing those adorable dimples. “Great. You can call me Joonie by the way,” he says, and seals the moment with a soft kiss on your temple, leaving you breathless once again.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[hopelesslys-world]

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME | CH. 5

WARNINGS: NON-CON, Age Gap ( Massimo is 34 reader is 20 ), sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (both female and male), yandere themes, stalking, KIDNAPPING, violence, harsh language, murder...

Tell me if I missed something... ( As you can see most of those warnings will make their appearance in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏, 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 outside. You felt a slight depressed feeling approaching you, not to mention that you were starving like never before.

Right as your brain woke up, you felt someone’s hand lying heavy on your waist. Massimo was sleeping next to you, spooning you from behind leaving no space whatsoever, curled into a ball just like you with his arm around you securely.

Moments of yesterday's fight flashed before your eyes and disgust washed over you. What was he doing here? Being all cuddly and shit? If he won't apologise for his behaviour then you're in for a much terrible year.

You were afraid to move, to wake him, and you had to go to the bathroom. Slowly, you started to slip from under his arm, lifting it delicately. Massimo took a deep breath and turned over on his back. He was still asleep. You got up and headed to the bathroom tiptoeing.

After you were done with your business, you took your clothes off and went to the enormous shower. You turned the water on letting it soak you. Taking your loofah and using a generous amount of heavenly scented soap you began to scrub your body.

The door slammed open suddenly. It was the Man in Black. He was ogling me, not even trying to act cool.

A surprised scream left your mouth and hurried to cover up all your lady parts. "What the hell" you murmured to yourself

“Good morning, baby girl. May I join you?” he asked, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

At first first all you wanted was to rush at him, pummel him with your fists for what would have been the thousandth time, and throw him out. But your experience of yesterday's fight told you that it would comedown to nothing and only elicit an abrupt, violent, and unpleasant reaction.

Instead, you replied, “You wouldn't leave even if I told you to. So be my guest.”

Massimo stopped rubbing his eyes, frowned, and froze, dumbfounded. He must have thought he had misheard you. You had thrown him off balance.

Time to finally put Plan C into action I guess. You thought mischievously.

You couldn’t change the fact that he had just gone in behind you and seen you naked, no other man had seen you like this before. It was for a brief moment, though. Your hands hugged your breasts protectively while you crossed your legs tightly preventing anyone from seeing your bare womanhood.

Slowly, Massimo approached the expansive shower, grabbed the shirt from the back of his neck and tore it off with one fluid motion. You backed up against the shower's wall, surely but hesitantly you removed one of your hands and began scrubbing again. Keeping your eyes glued to the floor tiles not daring to meet his burning gaze.

Massimo entered the enormous cubicle and turned on the second shower head. There were four of those in total, not counting the gigantic water jet panel that looked like a bathroom radiator.

“We’re leaving today,” the Man in Black said impassively. “We’re going to be away for a couple of days. Maybe weeks. I don’t know yet. We’ll drop by some galas and parties, so take this into account while packing your things. Domenico will take care of everything. You just tell him what you need.”

In the end, your curiosity won. You turned his way and saw Massimo standing with his arms propped on the wall, letting the water flow freely down his naked body. The first man you saw naked in real life and not movies.

The view was overwhelming— toned leg, shapely buttocks, muscled belly were all testament to the enormous work he had to do to keep his body in such perfect shape. Your eyes stopped wandering not wanting to push your luck and create sly comments from him.

The soap disappeared from your body, you turned off the water and moved forward to leave the shower. Without warning Massimo grabbed your arm and you slammed softly to his chest with a gasp. You could feel his erect cock touching your lower back.

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday, you made me so furious I wasn't able to control myself." He kissed your shoulder. You didn't move. "I want to be gentle with you Y/N, but I don't know how...will you teach me how to be gentle?" His lips started to trail toward your neck and his large hands roamed your waist.

You nodded. Your body was rebelling against you, where did that even come from? He was so mean to you and now you wanted to fuck him?

What the hell!?

"I have to get ready." You said desperately wanting to get out of there.

He let you go with no complaints and you rushed out. You grabbed a bathrobe on your way and threw it over myself, running through the door.

You shut yourself in the ginormous closet until you heard him leave. You sat at a bench scolding your subconscious that wanted you to sleep with him. How did that thought even crossed your mind, it was sick! You didn't know what time it was or how long you stayed in there.

Suddenly, you heard someone knock on the room's door, unwillingly you gathered your wits and left the closet to go and answer the door.

It was no other than Domenico, "Hi." You greeted. You moved aside to let him in, he was holding two gigantic Louis Vuitton travel bags.

The young Italian smiled. “Hey, you are leaving in an hour, so I thought you could use some help, miss. Unless you don’t want me to…”

“Stop calling me miss. I can’t stand it. Besides, you can't be that older, so let’s skip the formalities.”

Domenico smiled and nodded, signaling his consent. “Can you tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“To Napoli, Rome, and Venice,” he replied. “And then the Côte d’Azur.”

You opened your eyes wider, surprised. You had never been to all those places. You haven’t seen so many places in your whole life!

“Do you know what we’re to do in each of those places?” you asked. “I’d like to know what to take with me.”

Domenico walked over to the closet. “I do, in fact, but I was told not to spoil it for you. Don Massimo will make everything clear in time. I’ll help you pick the right outfits, don’t worry.” He winked at you. “Fashion is something of a hobby to me.”

“I’ll trust you fully if that’s the case. If we only have an hour to prepare, let’s get to it, shall we?”

Domenico nodded and disappeared in the cavernous closet.

"Domenico," you said. He quickly spun around to meet your face. "Could you by any chance bring me something to eat? I'm starving to death here..."

"Consider it done." He then speed dial someone on the phone and arranged you a meal in Italian.

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Fifty minutes later, you were standing in front of the mirror, packing your cosmetics into one of the leather bags. You'd tied your hair neatly with a hair clip, Domenico picked a red maxi skirt and a white top, along with white heels and jewellery that complemented the outfit perfectly.

“Your things are packed,” Domenico said, passing you your bag.

“I’d like to see Massimo now, please.”

“He hasn’t finished his meeting yet, but—”

“Well it's about time he does, ” you interrupted disdainfully, leaving the room.

The library was one of those rooms whose location you had committed to memory. You headed down the corridor, and the patter of your hills reverberated from the stone floor. As you reached the right door, you took a deep breath and pulled on the handle. You went inside and felt a shiver running down your spine. You hadn’t been here since your first conversation with the Man in Black, only a while after waking up from your deep sleep.

Massimo was sitting on the couch. He wore a light linen suit and an unbuttoned shirt. Next to him sat a man with graying hair—very handsome and a lot older than Massimo. A typical Italian, you thought. Longish hair combed back and a well-groomed goatee. Seeing you, both of them jumped to their feet.

The first look you got from Massimo was ice-cold. As if he wanted to scold you for interrupting his meeting. But as soon as his eyes swept your entire silhouette, his stare seemed to grow less severe. He said something to the other man, keeping his eyes on you, and started walking your way. He approached you and leaned over, kissing you on the cheek.

“You look lovely,” he whispered, planting the kiss. He took your hand in his and led you to his friend.

“Y/N, meet Mario—my right hand.” you walked over to the man to offer him a hand, but he swooped in, grabbed you by the shoulders, and kissed you on both cheeks. You still hadn’t grown used to that. Where you come from, you only kiss your closest friends and relatives.

“Consigliere,” you said with a smile.

“Just Mario is all right.” The older man returned your smile. “It is good to finally see you in the flesh. Alive.”

Those words rooted you to the spot. What did he mean, “alive”? Had he assumed you wouldn’t live to see him? Your face must have shown some of your emotions, as Mario quickly explained, “There are paintings of you all over the mansion. They’ve been there for years now, but nobody ever believed you were real. You must be as astounded as we are.”

You could only nod.

“I won’t lie: this whole situation is a bit surreal and daunting. But we all know I have no power over don Massimo, so I humbly accept each and every one of the three hundred and sixty-five days he has given me.” Irony was your new best friend now, you rolled your eyes.

Massimo burst out laughing. “Humbly…” he repeated, turning to his companion, who immediately joined in the merriment.

“I’m happy I could improve your mood. Now, I’ll wait in the car so you can enjoy my absence,” you hissed, sending them both an ironic smirk. As I turned you back on them and headed to the door, you heard Mario say, trying to hold back the laughter, “Indeed, Massimo, it’s just as if she was Italian.”

You ignored that and shut the door behind you. You stopped before you exited the house and went out to the driveway. The image of the dead man lying on the paving stones flashed before your eyes. You swallowed, took a furtive look around, and headed in the direction of the SUV parked outside. The driver opened the door for you and gave you a hand as you stepped inside.

Your iPhone was lying on the back seat, right next to your laptop. You squealed with glee, seeing both devices. You turned the phone on only to find out that your password was changed.

You tried and tried again until you were made to stop by the phone's security.

That fucking bastard!

In that moment, the car door opened, and Massimo deftly slipped inside. He took a look at your hand. The iPhone was still in it. "Why did you change my password?" You asked your vision going red. That also means that he scrolled through it as well!

“I don't trust you that much, just yet. You will only talk with your relatives under my supervision.” he replied casually. He pressed the button and then the black glass separated us from the driver.

“The last stop of our trip will be Warsaw. It won’t be as soon as you’d like, but calling your parents more often from now on should assuage her concerns and give us more time, so you can call them whenever you want- while I'm with you.”

That was good news. “Thanks I guess...” You turned your head away looking at the window.

Massimo kept his eyes on you for a moment longer. Then he lay his head on the headrest and sighed. “I’m not so bad. I don’t want to keep you here against your will. I don’t want to threaten you. But, tell me: would you stay of your own will?” He fixed you with a searching stare.

You turned away. Would you stay? Of course not. Without second thoughts.

The Man in Black was still waiting for a reply, but didn’t get one, so he turned to his iPhone, scrolling and reading something on the Internet.

The silence was unbearable. You needed someone to talk to. Maybe it was because of your longing for home. Still looking through the window, you asked, “Where are we going now?”

“The airport in Catania. If the traffic is light, we should be there in less than an hour.”

Another good thing, you enjoyed flying a lot.

Massimo reached into the glove compartment and took out a black paper bag. “I have something for you,” he said, handing me the package.

You frowned and sent him a questioning look.

The elegant gold lettering on its front formed the words “Patek Philippe.” youknew that name. There could only be one thing inside. You also knew how expensive those watches were. “Massimo… I…” your eyes wandered back to him. “I can’t accept that.”

He laughed out loud, sliding on his aviators. “Baby girl, this is one of the cheaper gifts I’m going to give you. Besides, don’t forget you don’t get to decide for another few hundred days. Open it.”

You knew this was going nowhere—arguing with him never did. It could only lead to misery for you, especially since there was nowhere to run now. You pulled a black box from the bag and opened it. The watch was marvelous—pink gold encrusted with little diamonds. Simply perfect.

“You have been pretty isolated today. I had to reward you. I know I’ve taken much from you, but you’ll start getting it all back now,” Massimo said, fastening the watch on your wrist.

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[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @lucidlivi

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[chirp-a-chirp]

Clavis Lelouch • Clavis x Emma • Tags: Fluff; Crack; Pranks; Mischief; Cat-puns • Word Count: ~1900 • Triggers: None • Brief appearances by Chevalier, Cyran, and Sariel

Title: Cat-astrophe

Description: It’s Clavis. Of course there’s chaos! This time, in feline form 😸

For @katriniac as a part of the Ikemen Prince Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @saeyoungs-sunflower 😊

Cat-inspired Clavis drawing (aka Catvis) done by @aide-falls

…

“This doesn’t look like a good idea.”

“You’re right, my dear. It’s a perfectly wicked one!” Clavis flicked a finger at the glass bottle he was holding. The bottle contained a light purple liquid that bubbled and fizzled like champagne. It appeared benign, even pleasant looking, until one looked directly above at the ceiling and the soot that covered it. Emma opened a window to let out the plumes of smoke that lingered.

“Most liquids don’t spontaneously burst into flames.” Emma coughed pointedly, moving her hands in a fanning motion to push the smoke outside.

“Unless Licht is cooking, haha!”

“Will you tell me what it is you’re trying to make at least?”

Clavis put down the bottle. “And where would the fun in that be?” He smirked, a look of utter delight on his face. “I DO have the antidote to this—well, most of it.” Clavis gestured to a second glass bottle with a light bluish tint to it. Emma’s eyes widened.

“Could it be that my lovely lover is worried for me?” Clavis tweaked Emma’s nose playfully. “It’s not as if this liquid will make me disappear or anything!” His eyes flashed, with a hint of challenge to them. “And even if it did, I’m sure you’d find me.”

…

The next day, Clavis was gone.

His disappearance had not been noticed until late morning, when a terrified palace butler was forced to wake up Chevalier instead of Clavis. None of the princes seemed particularly bothered at this development. As Emma made inquiries, their reactions were varied—relief from Yves (Licht and I can have a tea party uninterrupted!); mockery laced with pity from Nokto (you’re getting a day off from him; isn’t that a good thing?); and the equivalent of a princely shrug from Leon (I haven’t seen smoke since yesterday, so I’m sure he’s fine.). But, they all agreed on one thing—they hadn’t seen Clavis.

Emma entered Chevalier’s private library hoping he’d know what was going on. She placed a rare romance book from Jade on a side table near where Chevalier sat reading. There was an approving nod as elegant fingers picked up the book. He offered a rather unusual hint.

“My fool of a brother lost one of his nine lives today.”

Emma tilted her head. “Can you elaborate on that?”

“Do you have the next installment of this book?”

“It won’t be published until next month!”

“Then our conversation ends now, Simpleton.” The corner of Chevalier’s mouth lifted as he placed the book in his lap. As Emma left the room, she heard Chevalier say one more thing.

“He’s not complicated. He needs something from you, but cannot bring himself to admit it.”

Chevalier’s words echoed in Emma’s head as she headed toward Clavis’ bedroom. She took out a key from her dress pocket, heart lurching at the breach of privacy.

The room was virtually the same as it was when she was with Clavis yesterday. Emma knew he saw this place as a shrine to his failures, a testament to mediocrity. But, she saw much more—it was a place of studiousness, ingenuity, and childish delight. Books on law, pharmacology, science, and philosophy were neatly arranged on his bookshelf. One of the middle shelves held a cup with the phrase #1 worst emblazoned on it—a gag gift Emma had bought Clavis when they first became a couple. She grabbed a book at random and noted with a smile that the book was highlighted in numerous colors, with notes in the margins about various herbs that could be used for different smoke traps.

Emma placed the book back on the shelf and glanced at various pieces of paper attached to the wall above his writing desk. The papers contained lists with the number of traps discovered by other people. Various palace staff and princes had tick marks next to their names, each tick mark indicating a trap they had fallen into. Yves encompassed one entire sheet of paper by himself, and to Emma’s surprise, Chevalier had one mark next to his name. She’d have to ask Clavis about THAT story.

But Emma had to find him first. She sat at his desk chair, feeling lonely. She looked down at her hands—Clavis had held her hand so often in their adventures; she now felt empty without it.

I know you feel like you’re not enough Clavis. But you are. Where are you?

“Meow?”

Emma turned her head at the sound. A beautiful long-haired cat emerged from behind Clavis’ couch. Its paws, the tip of its tail, and its chest were light grey while the rest of its body was purple. The cat’s eyes were golden and sparkling with mischief.

“Are you lost little one?” The cat jumped in Emma’s lap, nesting between her thighs as if it thought it belonged there. “You’re not the only one who likes that spot. Though your touch is gentler.” Emma chuckled, scratching the cat behind its ears. She then noticed the cat wore a dark purple necktie that looked remarkably familiar. Embedded in the center of the necktie was a tag containing a name—Catvis.

Catvis leaped onto the desk, its tail bristling (Emma corrected herself…the cat was decidedly male). He pushed a drawer open with a paw and fished out a gold-chained necklace with his teeth. The necklace held two golden medallions—one reading “Catvis” and the other “Accomplice”. Emma swore she saw the cat smirk as he dropped the necklace in her lap.

A notion so absurd it bordered on ludicrous flitted into Emma’s head. She reached out her hand and patted the cat on his head. “Clavis, is that you?”

The cat practically pranced with joy. He head butted Emma’s hand, leaning into her touch, before jumping deftly onto her lap again, exposing his belly.

Emma shook her head in disbelief. “The things you do for attention are ridiculous Clavis.” The cat nipped Emma’s finger, causing her to pull her hand away. “Oh, excuse me. Do you prefer to be called Catvis while in this form?” Emma’s words were dripping in sarcasm, but the cat purred contently and licked the finger he bit.

Emma recalled the pharmacology book she glanced at earlier. “You were working on a polymorph potion, weren’t you?” Catvis beamed and extended his body so that he was standing on Emma’s lap, his front paws on her shoulders. He rubbed both sides of her cheeks affectionately.

“You really are ridiculous. Ridiculously amazing.” Catvis blinked, not expecting to hear that. “A polymorph potion has never been successfully made until now. A mere Chevalier would not—could not—think to do this.” Emma blushed at her words—expressing her honest feelings was easier with him in this form.

Catvis nuzzled against Emma’s face. He craved this attention, this affirmation. Needed it. Emma’s heart trembled at the realization. She held him in that standing pose in her lap for a while, letting her guard down. After a while, her eyes drifted to the bottle of blue liquid Clavis mentioned yesterday on a table. “We have to change you back eventually, you know. What ingredient is missing from your antidote?”

Catvis jumped back on the desk, finding a pen and fitting it into his mouth. With his head at an incredibly awkward angle, he wrote out two words on a piece of paper: Black rawhide.

“Wow, I can READ this!” Apparently, Clavis’ eighth wonder was legible handwriting without opposable thumbs. “There’s no rawhide here, so we’ll have to look for it. Come here, let me carry you as we search for some.”

Catvis went back to Emma’s lap, his head pushing the necklace into her hand. “I am NOT wearing a cat collar.” Catvis pouted. Emma felt a pang of guilt at his expression. “Well, maybe just this ONCE.”

A few moments later, Emma came out of the bedroom, with Catvis perched on her shoulders. As Emma walked down the palace stairs, she spied a familiar plume of fiery red hair.

“My Lady!” Cyran ran to Emma. “What news of our missing charge?”

“You’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me. Nothing about him surprises me anyone.”

“You MAY want to reconsider that statement.” Emma turned her shoulder and gestured to Catvis.

“I didn’t know you owned a cat.” Cyran sniffed loudly.

“WE own a cat. A very naughty one at that.” Emma smirked and bopped Catvis on his nose.

AAAAAAA-CHO!

“I’m highly allergic to cats. Especially naughty ones.” Cyran’s eyes watered. “So, no, I do NOT own a cat.”

Emma gestured to the “Catvis” button on her feline companion. “Actually, we do. Clavis created a polymorph potion and here are the results of THAT.” Catvis grinned broadly—it was a grin Cyran knew all too well.

Catvis’ ears twitched at a sound down a nearby hallway. He jumped off of Emma’s shoulders and sprinted away.

“Catvis, wait!” Emma began running after him, but Cyran erupted into a violent coughing fit, one so strong it made his cheeks blaze as red as his hair. A maid was tasked with fetching him a glass of water as Emma slapped his back.

“I-I’m fine!” Cyran collected his breath. “Were you serious when you said that cat was—“ A shriek from the maid carrying Cyran’s water interrupted the conversation. A furry purple and grey blur darted past her. Catvis ran up the stairs, carrying a black rawhide whip in his mouth. The whip crackled in the air as Catvis flew past Emma and Cyran. Sariel came bounding from the hallway, violet eyes narrowed with rage. “It is enough to have one Hellcat among us. I did not think we had a second living in the palace.”

Emma looked apologetically at Cyran, her hand pointing at Sariel. “Cyran, can you handle this?”

“I…do not get paid enough for these shenanigans, My Lady.” AAAAAAA-CHO!

“At least you get paid.”

…

With a piece of Sariel’s whip, the antidote was now complete and consumed by Catvis (he lapped the potion from Emma’s #1 worst cup). The antidote would take a few hours to be effective, so Emma laid down on Clavis’ couch, a blanket covering her legs and Catvis perched in his proper spot—between Emma’s thighs.

Emma couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done so, for she woke up to the pre-dawn hours to a heavier weight on her body and something touching her face. Emma’s eyes slowly opened as she felt an arm—a human arm!—encircle her waist, and roaming hands caressing over her clothes.

“Ah, you’re awake my lovely lover. How wonderful.” Alluring golden eyes shone brightly in the darkened room as Clavis’ lips traced a trail down Emma’s neck.

“Hmmm,” Emma’s fingers carded through Clavis’ hair.

“Are you so delighted you’re at a loss for words? Cat got your tongue?” There was a purr to his voice as Clavis leaned forward and presented a cheek to be kissed.

A cheek was not enough. Emma pulled Clavis down for a kiss, her lips capturing his. “You’re an absolute cat-astrophe, darling.” As she pulled away, Emma’s quiet laughter tickled Clavis’ ear.

“But you’re my cat-astrophe. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[sophierequests]

my darling sophieee! i have a request! what about kaz x heartrender!reader where kaz has fallen head over heels for her and she knows this cause of the way his breath hitches or his heart speeds up.. and she waits patiently for him to finally confess

someone could lose a heart tonight

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: I'm so sorry, this is a bit more Hurt/Comfort than I had intended to dlksaghakg. But I actually really like how this turned out?? Thank you sm for this request, Kaz x Heartrender/Healer!Reader is one of my (many) weak spots <333 I hope you like this!

Summary: Kaz develops a crush on a Heartender!Reader, and thinks he's being good at hiding his feelings. Turns out, he really isn't.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff (just in a very Kaz way)

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Mention of violence, almost dying, falling, one sexual innuendo, me using the word fuck once and emotionally constipated idiots

The casual silence of his office had been welcome at first, maybe even comforting. However, the longer it unfolded, only disturbed by the sharp scratching of pen on paper, you couldn't help but notice the tense atmosphere settling between you. You watched the way his jaw clenched and unclenched whenever you audibly shifted in the seat across from him, or how the grip on his pen seemed to tighten after his eyes quickly drifted away after you caught him staring.

This behaviour made you curious. His motions were uneasy - nervous. And Kaz Brekker was never nervous. And if he ever was, he wouldn't be inclined to display it this openly.

In all honesty, it started worrying you. You hated to admit it, but you cared about him a bit more than you probably should, and seeing him act this out of character was quite troubling. So, even though you had promised yourself to never do it without anyone's explicit consent, you decided to listen to his heart.

You heard a heartbeat - quick and erratic as if the person to whom it belongs had just been caught up in a vicious chase.

"Brekker?" Eyes the same shade as the tea in front of him met yours and you listened intently. The heartbeat stumbled breaking its previous pattern for a brief moment before returning to a more stable rhythm. "Are you alright?"

A faint flicker of surprise flashed over his features as he raised his eyebrows, watching you with a glint of suspicion. His hand had lowered the pen, not holding onto it as firmly as it did a few minutes earlier. Now, the only indication of his prior irritation was the treacherous beating of his heart.

"Yes." He replied firmly, straightening out his back in an attempt to regain his composure. "Or are you aware of something I am not?"

"You just appear a bit uncomfortable, that's all." A pause. He didn't answer, his expecting expression wordlessly beckoning you to elaborate further on why you felt the need to bring it up. "If my presence makes you uncomfortable, I can-"

"It's fine." You could hear his heartbeat quicken again as he spoke. Was he hiding something from you? Why did such a simple interaction cause his body to react so uncontrollably? "I'm just…tired. Your company isn't a bother." You had to stifle the quizzical look that had managed to unravel on your face. This almost sounded like a compliment, coming from Kaz that is. "I suppose I have grown to appreciate it." The realisation hit you like a brick. It felt almost futile to check on his heart again. It didn’t tell you anything you weren’t already aware of. His heart seemed to have transformed into a mallet by now, swinging against his ribcage with ferocious force.

Your brain told you to be rational. That didn’t have to mean anything. Maybe he was genuinely just overworked? But you recognised this pattern. You saw it whenever Matthias looked at Nina - uneven breaths and nervous smiles. You saw it whenever Wylan looked at Jesper - a fast and frustratingly loud thudding against his delicate ribcage. And now you saw it whenever Kaz looked at you.

Kaz Brekker had feelings for you. There was no point in trying to deny it.

“Then I’ll stay.” You answered, not intending to pry any further than you already had. For now, you knew enough. And even though the thought of him returning your feelings made you giddy as much as it made you anxious, you chose to not act on your newly gained understanding. He needed to figure things out on his own first.

Keeping this secret was terribly exhausting, but somehow, you never let anything slip when you were around Kaz. You didn’t even want to imagine what his reaction would be like if he knew that you were aware of him liking you.

What you weren’t necessarily all that proud of was the habit of using your Small Science on him. You would never manipulate his heartbeat, but simply listening to the way it could change in a matter of seconds just by noticing your presence - or assumed lack thereof - assured you that you weren’t hopelessly waiting for a miracle to happen.

The day at the Crow Club had been slow, the majority of patrons being outside, trying to savour the last few sunny days Ketterdam had to offer before allowing the frigid hands of autumn to overtake it. The few customers that did come in to gamble away their money were busying themselves with the available games or the steady-flowing drinks.

“Y/N!” A loud and whiny groan forced you to look away from the card table you had been observing for the last twenty minutes, having suspected that at least one of them was cheating. Jesper trudged over to your spot at the bar, giving you a cranky frown as he threw himself on the stool to your right. You had to conceal a chuckle when you took in this utterly exaggerated gesture.

“Jes.” You mimicked his frown, giving him a gentle smile laced with a hint of fake sympathy. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be guarding the door?”

“Guarding it from what? There is literally nothing going on outside and I am sure I’ll die of boredom if I stay there any longer! I mean, look around!” He gestured around the room wildly, causing a few people to give him disturbed glances. “Everyone’s out and about. No one cares about being in here.”

“You should probably still go back outside. If Kaz catches you-” He cut you off, putting his pointer finger in front of your lips and shushing you like one would a toddler during a tantrum.

“Don’t say his name. That works like a curse. You say his name three times and suddenly the devil’s incarnate materializes behind you.” He grumbled, recalling the handful of times he hadn’t been alert enough to see Kaz watching him while he was doing basically anything but his job. Let’s just say that these encounters rarely ever went smoothly - at least for Jesper. “But you probably wouldn't be opposed to that, so I shouldn’t put any ideas into your head. The fact that you genuinely have a crush on that man still scares me.”

“Jesper!” You exclaimed, feeling your cheeks turn bright pink. The fact that you had feelings for Kaz wasn’t really what you would call confidential, to anyone other than Kaz that is, but it made you feel quite uneasy whenever one of the other Crows - namely Jesper or Nina - would bend over backwards to bring it up. “First of all, I wouldn’t like it if Kaz would just ‘materialize behind me’. Inej doing this scares the shit out of me often enough. And second of all,” The volume of your voice dropped down to a low whisper, hindering the other guests from listening in on your conversation. “My crush on Kaz is not half as bad as your crush on Wylan.”

“Well, at least I’m not spending every day miserably pining over Wylan.”

“Anymore.” You corrected, leading him to gape at you like a fish on land, an offended pout on his lips.

“Low blow…” He halted, giggling at the implications of this unintended innuendo.

“The only low blow you’re going to receive is the blow from Kaz’s cane displacing your kneecaps after he finds out that you’re not doing your job. It’s time to go back, Jes.”

“But it’s so boring.” The sharpshooter griped, leaning closer to you to rest his forehead on your shoulder, emphasising his agony.

This obviously didn’t work. Whether that was because of your unwavering perseverance or rather because of the sharp snapping of a cane on the hard wooden floor.

“Jesper.” Kaz’s voice bellowed only a few metres away from you. His gaze was fixed on Jesper who was hurriedly pushing himself away from you and almost knocking himself off the stool, not really too keen on playing with his life today. Unconsciously, your focus moved from Kaz’s murderous expression to the accelerated beating of his heart. Normally, you would have just assumed that it was frustration that riled him up this much. However, you knew better. He was jealous. “Quit flirting with your colleagues and start doing what you’re getting paid for.” Definitely.

“I was not-” A sharp glance from his boss managed to shut him up before he slipped off his seat with an embarrassed smile. “Say his name three times…” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

“I said it four times, Fahey. Get fucked.” You whispered back with a smug grin which he didn’t feel like returning.

In the blink of an eye, he disappeared, leaving you alone with your drink and a strongly disgruntled Kaz Brekker. You had half-heartedly expected him to go back to his office and whatever heist plan he was working on. Instead, he moved to stand closer to you, tilting his head in the other direction as if he was trying to make sure that Jesper was actually gone.

“He wasn’t flirting with me. Just so you know.” He turned to look at you, the thudding in his chest becoming painfully loud as a mixture of emotions you couldn't quite pinpoint flashed over his face.

“I don’t care what he was doing. I care that he’s not doing his job properly.” A lie. You didn’t even have to use your Grisha abilities to recognize that. His sudden change in demeanour was proof enough.

“Care for me to join you while you work on the new heist plan?” You asked sheepishly, already knowing what he would answer.

“If you insist.” He replied, his heart almost skipping a beat when you gave him a warm smile in return and began following him up to his office.

“This is a terrible idea.” You hissed, futilely attempting to keep your balance whilst climbing over the wet glass rooftop with Kaz more or less steadily following you.

Underneath you laid the top floor of the university archive that was supposed to contain information to make each one of you roughly five million kruge richer. It should have been an easy in-and-out situation since the security on campus was close to non-existent. But, of course, things didn’t go as planned. Apparently, you hadn’t been as attentive as you thought, causing the Stadwatch to spot you before you managed to get into the main tract of the opulent building.

Quickly Kaz had ordered you to separate into three groups, Nina and Matthias rushing out through the grand west entrance, Inej, Wylan and Jesper exiting through one of the windows, and you and Kaz sneaking out through one of the back doors. That was what he had planned at least. The two of you sped towards the exit, doing your best to not let the men following you have any chance of reaching you. When you reached the heavy metallic door, you were faced with another huge problem. It was locked. A lock that would’ve taken Kaz at least five minutes to pick. You didn’t have five minutes. And since the Stadwatch catching you was still in the realm of possibilities, you had to react fast.

Without discussing it first, you took off to run towards the rooftop. The latch leading outside could be locked, meaning it was the best chance to get out of this mess unscathed. However, the terrace merely consisted of a small platform, barely giving you any exit points to get off the roof without breaking your neck. The majority of the rooftop was made out of glass, providing a great source of natural for the archival staff light during the day, but being your absolute worst-case scenario during the night. You didn't have any other choice but to climb across it to get to the lower levels.

It had already been enough of a struggle for Kaz to get on top of the glass, but on top of that, it had rained the day prior, not allowing him nearly as much friction as he had hoped for - or needed. The slight slope of the roof forced both of you to inch forward excruciatingly slow if you hadn’t planned on sliding off of it. His leg was aching because of the amount of pressure he put on it, making it difficult for him to keep up with your more agile movements. It was a gamble, but you had to take it.

The sound of gunshots echoing beneath you almost made you lose balance. Your attention immediately snapped to the hall situated under the glass. Inej, Jesper and Wylan were wrangling with three men, all of them armed. Shots were fired and punches were thrown, and neither you nor Kaz could do anything to help them. Jesper tried everything in his power to fend them off with his own revolvers, but the fight just seemed to get more and more unhinged by the second.

Another blast of shots rang in your ears, followed by the sharp sound of breaking glass. Glass, which was only a few metres away from where you were currently fearing for your life They were aiming for the roof. Your eyes met Kaz’s in an instant, a foreign sense of terror written all over his face. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kaz Brekker had no other plan.

“Get back.” He stated firmly, looking back at the ledge from which you had started. You knew that you couldn’t go on any further, the tautness of the windows wouldn’t hold your weight after being damaged. However, no amount of reason fought off the freezing fear that rooted you in place.

“I can’t.” You choked out, feeling paralysed by what might expect you if you moved.

“You have to.” It wasn’t a command or an order. He wasn’t angry at you. It was a plea. The Bastard of the Barrel was begging. Begging you to move.

None of his words could have prevented what was about to happen.

Bullets broke through the glass, just barely missing your head as the already shattered glass beneath you began to crack. Before you could even begin to comprehend what was going on, the window gave in completely, the shards of glass taking you with them without giving you a second to move.

Kaz could only watch as your body crashed on top of a desk, the usually quite sturdy wood breaking on impact. Bits and fragments of the ceiling continued to come down, crumbling down on your now lifeless form. For a moment, he felt like something rooted him in place. He just couldn’t begin to force his eyes off of the mess he had created. There was no chance you could have survived that, he thought. The realisation of you being gone sickened him as much as it fuelled him to move. He couldn’t let you have died for nothing.

Jesper had never seen his friend this despondent. Kaz’s face was devoid of any emotion - no anger, no vengeance, no sadness - just nothing. Even though Nina insisted that he was close to having a heart attack, he looked as if he was utterly indifferent to everything around him.

You survived the fall. Barely, but you were breathing. Just not conscious. Nina had managed to fix you up as best as she could, cleaning out the cuts, healing the bruises and mending all the other ailments one might face from a fall as painful as yours. However, a Heartrender could solely do enough to keep you alive and make sure that your organs wouldn’t fail. Everyone was aware of the fact that the rest was completely up to you. And after a whole week of being unresponsive, none of them was all that hopeful.

“She’s weak,” Nina muttered, anxiously fidgeting in the chair next to your bed. The remaining four Crows had joined her, hoping - praying - for better news. Only Kaz refused to see you. He didn’t elaborate on why, and he didn’t need to. The visceral reaction he had when the Heartrender told him that she didn’t know whether you would make it was enough to answer that question. He couldn’t even let her finish before turning around and leaving for his office, where he stayed for the majority of the day from then on.

“She’s going to make it. She always does.” Jesper attempted to ease the tension, though the tone of his voice made it clear that he didn’t believe that himself.

“Kaz should know,” Inej said all of a sudden, causing all the attention to go towards her. His name hadn’t been verbalized since he retreated to his office, a mutual understanding that it was best not to talk about him right now. “If she dies while he’s still cooped up in his office…” She trailed off, not wanting to imagine that possible outcome.

“Trust me, I tried talking to him.” Nina sighed, letting her eyes fly over your dull features once more. “He won’t listen. I don’t think he realizes how unlikely it is that she survives this. He won’t even allow me to slow his heartbeat down.”

“I believe he knows what will happen. And that’s exactly why he doesn’t want to see her.” Matthias objected, a solemn look on his face as he put a comforting hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“I’ll go and talk to him.” Inej decided, not waiting for anyone to object before slipping out of the room and up the stairs. She didn’t bother knocking, knowing that the man on the other side of the door was not going to answer anyway.

“I didn’t give you permission to come in, Wraith.” Kaz didn’t even glance up at her when she pushed open the door to enter his office. He looked exhausted, his hair ruffled and alabaster skin even paler than usual.

“Ignoring the inevitable won’t bring you any peace, Kaz.” Dismissing his reprimand, she began speaking, her voice as calm as it could be.

“Another proverb for me to follow?” He answered, a certain hint of venom lacing his voice. She knew that it was an act.

“No. Some advice from a friend.” Inej watched as his eyes shot up from the papers in front of him. She knew that it was foolish to confront him in the current state he was in. For anyone else that would have been an offence akin to a death sentence. But she couldn’t watch him suffer like this. “She probably won’t make it. You know that. You won’t achieve anything by refusing to see her.”

“I won’t achieve anything by seeing her either, will I? If her death is inevitable it shouldn’t matter whether I’m there to see it or not.” He didn’t actually believe that. In fact, he had attempted to go to your room countless times before. But whenever he got close enough to turn the handle, the waves started thrashing at his ankles again. It was an unwelcome feeling. The same feeling one felt whilst walking up the stairs, thinking that there’s another step after already reaching the top - a heavy and gutting feeling. So he never went through with actually pressing down the handle.

“If you’re doing all of this to save face you should drop it. We all know that she means something to you, and there’s no point in trying to deny it. Acting indifferent to the whole situation will cause you more harm than good, trust me.”

There was no snarky comment he could give her, no way of renouncing her accusations. She was right. He hadn’t been able to shake off the nauseous feeling for the entirety of the week. A feeling that caused his heart to run a marathon every time he thought about what happened, and what would happen if he didn’t push away the guilt that seeped through him. Nina had attempted to calm his heart down more than once, but she was quickly shut down every single time. He didn’t want the relief. It wouldn’t make you wake up again. It wouldn’t do anything to help you. And he didn’t deserve it. He deserved to feel the consequences of his actions. He deserved to know how much you actually meant to him. He deserved to be smothered by the grave he dug for himself.

“What will a visit be of use then? She won’t notice me being there, so I can just as well spend my time doing something useful.” The girl opposite him sighed, a disappointed expression on her face as she eyed him up and down.

“If that’s what you really want, Kaz.” Without wasting another word on him, she left, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

No. It wasn’t what he really wanted.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to just go back to sleep again, at least until your limbs stopped hurting this much. But the light of the morning sun had forced your eyes to open, allowing you to slowly take in your surrounding. You were in your room. Even with the sparse furnishing, it was visibly yours. That calmed you a bit. You were safe, not lying in your makeshift grave in some dusty archive.

The loud beating of a heart diverted your attention from staring at the ceiling. It was irregular and way too fast for it to beat this unevenly. Someone else was in your room.

You turned your head a little, just enough to see the man sitting next to you. Though his heart told you otherwise, Kaz looked rather peaceful. His head was slumped over the backrest of the chair he was sleeping in, and his mouth stood slightly agape, letting out strained breaths. He seemed to not have slept in an eternity, so you didn’t think about waking him up. His mere presence was enough for now.

However, when you attempted to sit up, the wooden frame of the bed creaking as you moved, he began to stir. There was a brief pause in his movements after his eyes opened. The cogs in his brain started turning as he took in the scene in front of him. You were smiling, looking very much not dead. He could feel his heart drop to his stomach as the realization began to set in. And you could feel it too.

The thing that happened next was unexpected. The thudding inside his chest got louder as an ungloved hand reached out to touch yours. You almost wanted to pull away, to tell him that he was insane for acting this thoughtlessly, but you knew that this would probably be even worse than just letting him.

As his skin met yours, he shuddered slightly, resisting the urge to flinch away. But your hand was warm and soft, nothing at all like the skin of a bloating corpse. You were alive. He repeated that sentence like a mantra. You didn’t die during the last heist and you weren’t Jordie. You were here with him.

After he managed to convince his mind, that you were fine, he carefully retreated his hand, without removing it from the bed entirely. With a shuddering breath, his eyes met yours. He could only imagine what you were probably thinking of him right now. If his feelings hadn’t already been obvious enough prior to this, they must have been clear as day now.

“You look as terrible as I feel.” Your voice sounded hoarse, still a bit weakened by not being used for an entire week, but it still sounded heavenly to him. You were alive, and that was all that mattered.

“You broke through a glass ceiling and had a quite severe fall. I suppose feeling terrible is one of the lesser evils.” He closed his eyes for a split second, his fingers twitching as he contemplated his next words.

“Are you alright, Kaz?” The question felt like a déjà vu and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

“I don’t think that’s a question that should be directed at me. You were the one to almost die.”

“Your heart. It’s beating really fast. I could slow it down for you if you want me to.” You knew that there was a different reason for his heart to react like this. But you needed to hear him say it.

His expression contorted into one of surprise. Of course he was aware of your Small Science, it was one of the main reasons for him to recruit you after all. For some odd reason, he had just never considered you using it on him without his knowledge. It wasn’t that he felt betrayed, but learning that you were able to listen in on his heartbeat the entire time also meant that you probably noticed the way it sped up whenever you were around.

“When we arrived at the Slat and Nina came to tend to your wounds, she told me that she wasn’t sure whether you were going to make it. I didn’t want to come and see you because I was afraid.” He flexed the hand that still rested on his knee as he spoke, visibly uncomfortable with talking about his feelings. “I was afraid of facing the fact that you might actually be dead. I was afraid of losing you. And now, even though I know that you’re not dead, I’m still afraid of losing you.”

“Kaz, you won’t lose me. I’ll do anything in my power to prevent that.” You bit back the urge to lay your hand on his to comfort him, but judging by his current state that would have been more than counterproductive.

“I believe that is not something you have any distinct control over.”

“Come on, I may be clumsy but I’m sure-”

“That’s not what I meant. Not entirely, at least.” He sighed, avoiding making eye contact as he mentally fumbled with his words. You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but something told you that it was best to give him a bit more time. “I have not only grown to appreciate your presence. In some way, you have become essential to me. I fear that you may mean more to me than I care to admit.”

The silence following his words was heavy and laced with more emotion than either of you could process. You didn’t know what you had expected him to say, you didn’t even know if you had expected anything more than a longing glance and an unspoken promise. But somehow, this still caught you off guard.

“You love me.” You intended to make it sound like a question, however, once the sentence left your mouth, it came out rather matter-of-factly. “Why would that mean losing me?”

“I’m not the easiest person to love. Losing you in some way is inevitable.”

“Barely anything is easy. Not here. However, loving you isn’t a chore. And it’s not something arduous either. I’d be willing to try. But only if that is what you’d also choose to do.” You saw his eyebrows switch slightly, almost as if your statement was something utterly outlandish and unexpected. Maybe that was the case for him.

“I… I’m choosing this.” He took in a sharp breath before giving you a barely noticeable nod. “I choose you.” And so did his heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Pajama Party - Star Trek

A/N: inspired in part by this work of Art, and also by my obsession with cute pajamas. Mostly just a fic about the crew, but had to throw in a little reader x Leonard, cause you know me. Also let’s just pretend JJ is not there.

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader, Enterprise crew x Reader Word Count: 2.5k Synopsis: When the power goes out in the Enterprise, the crew must navigate through the darkened halls in their pajamas to restore power.

You can find all the pajamas in this post here!

When the lights went off, you had just pulled back the covers of your bed. 

You gave it a moment. You were in deep space, after all, much farther than anyone had travelled before. Hopefully, this was just a brief glitch as the Enterprise acclimated to the new territory. 

A few seconds later, you heard the sound of machinery powering down, and the steady hum of the thrusters stopped. 

“Fuck,” you muttered. Emergency lights came on in your room, leading you towards the exit. When the door slid open, you knew that the Enterprise at least had some power. The hallway was littered with bright red emergency lights every few feet, and at every cabin door, a crewmember’s head was popping out.

“What is it, Y/N?” a crewmember three doors down from you asked. 

“I don’t know. I’ll see if I can find Jim,” you said. “Everyone just hang here for a while. When there’s an update, you’ll know.”

“Are we in danger?” someone asked.

“No, we are not.” All heads turned towards the opposite end of the hallway where Jim Kirk was strutting towards you. Also dressed in his pajamas, Jim looked as if he had just woken up, with his hair mussed at the back of his head.

“What’s going on?” you asked as he stopped in front of you. His pajamas had you doing a double take. “Is that . . . the Enterprise?” you asked, unable to hide the smile on your face. 

“What?” He looked down at his pajamas and a soft blush appeared on his face. He stammered over a response before shaking his head. “Is it wrong for a man to be proud of his ship?” 

“When that pride manifests itself like this? Absolutely. You are such a nerd.”

“Oh, come on, like yours are any better,” he said, motioning to the floral pattern of your own pajamas.

“They are. One hundred percent better than yours.”

“So you’re telling me you always dress in matching three piece sets? You weren’t expecting someone, Y/N, were you?”

“Please,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “The only thing I was expecting was a full night of sleep.”

“As was I. So what happened?”

“What, just because I work in engineering you think I know what’s going on?” 

“Yeah,” Jim said, looking at you incredulously. 

“Fine, I can figure it out. I don’t know what happened just by sound. Let’s go down to engineering.”

“Why do I have to go down, too?” Jim asked, “I really could use a good night’s sleep.”

“How can you take pride in your ship if you don’t help her in her time of need?” you asked, your eyes flashing back to his pajamas. 

“Just lead the way,” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

As you walked down the halls, you took note of what was still functioning on the Enterprise. You were still standing, so the gravity levels were still normal. Oxygen levels were normal, as was the temperature regulator.

“All necessary functions are still running, meaning that it wasn’t a complete shut down of the system,” you said. “It has to be something with the energy core, then.”

“My thoughts exactly, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You and Jim both turned to see Spock and Uhura walking towards you from the hallway connecting their sector to the main corridor. They were both dressed in pajamas, and when they stepped into the light, your jaws dropped.

“What are you wearing?” Jim asked at the same time that you said, “What’s on your face?”

“Nyota was applying an avocado based facial mask to my skin when the power went out.”

“He has very dry skin,” Nyota said as explanation. 

“Does he?” Jim considered, studying his first officer’s face. 

“Captain, as interesting as Lieutenant Uhura’s face mask recipe may be, I believe our primary focus should still be on returning the ship’s power.”

“I agree,” you said, tugging on Jim’s arm to lead him back down the hall.

“The energy core has three distinct parts, every few months, these pieces must be rotated to ensure that none of the parts are drained of their full energy, in the case of an emergency. It is my theory that perhaps one of these pieces was not rotated soon enough, and thus was drained of its power, sinking us into this darkness,” Spock explained.

“That sound about right to you?” Jim asked.

“I don’t usually deal with the energy core,” you said, “But yes, I believe Spock’s theory is correct. Once we get down to engineering, we’ll know for sure.”

“And you can fix it?”

“Like I said, I’m not an expert on the energy core. Mr. Scott should be able to, though.”

“Let’s hope Scotty’s awake then,” Jim said.

The turbolift was apparently not deemed a necessity, because when you tried to use it to bring you down to engineering, there was only a hum that came from the doors that never opened. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this far down here,” Nyota said. “Never walked down here at least.”

“I have,” Jim said. He stopped in his tracks, looking around at the number of doors around your group. He followed the numbers back a few doors before knocking loudly on a door.

“No,” a voice yelled from the other end. Leonard.

“Come on, Bones, I know you heard us.” The door slid open and Leonard stepped out, dressed in a long nightshirt that made your jaw drop. 

“How the hell could I not?” he asked. “I’ve heard you coming since you were three levels up. What happened to the power?” he asked, looking at you.

“What are you wearing?” 

“Pajamas.”

“You look like Ebenezer Scrooge,” Jim laughed. 

“Why did you wake me up if you were just going to make fun of my pajamas?”

“Because I had no idea you would be wearing a dress.”

“It’s not a dr--”

“Gentleman,” Spock said, stepping between the captain and his CMO. “Instead of making comments about each other’s nightwear, perhaps our time would be better spent bringing power back to the ship.”

“Yeah, alright,” Leonard said, rolling his eyes as he stepped away from Jim. “It’s not like yours aren’t even more embarrassing.” 

“How are mine more embarrassing than a dress?” Jim asked. “And speaking of pajamas,” he said, turning to Spock, “What are you wearing?”

“My sleepwear falls under Starfleet regulation, as does Dr. McCoy’s. Not only are your pajamas out of regulation, Captain, they are also, by far, the most embarrassing.”

“Okay, okay,” Uhura said, “Let’s just get down to engineering. Clearly, we’re all a little sleep deprived.” You exchanged a glance with her and found the same smirk on her face. 

“I never would have taken you as a nightgown person,” you said to Leonard as the rest of the group fell into step around you. He seemed annoyed when he looked at you, but there was a soft smile on his face. You also never would have thought you could be attracted to a man in a nightgown. 

“What should I be wearing? Colorful, floral pajamas like you?” he asked.

“Well, mine are a lot cuter.”

“They are,” he said. A slight blush rose in your cheeks, but thanks to the dim red light from the emergency lights, no one noticed it. 

“If you two are done flirting,” Jim called. “Can we please just get to engineering.”

“You’re the one who stopped to pick him up,” you said, pointing a thumb at Leonard.

“And you’re the one slowing us down to flirt with him,” he said, “We can blame each other all day.”

“Whatever, let’s just--”

“Captin! Captin!” 

The entire group turned to see Chekov and Sulu rushing towards the group. Chekov had been the one to yell, and when he reached the group, he was panting, and sweat was slicking his skin. This was easy to see, because despite a pair of plaid pajama pants, Chekov wasn’t wearing anything. A quick glance at the group, you saw that you weren’t the only one surprised by Chekov’s muscles.

Conversely, Sulu was wearing the exact opposite. Fully clothed, Sulu's pajamas were designed to look like a penguin.

“Ha!” Jim said, pointing to Sulu. “His are more embarrassing than mine!”

“My husband, daughter, and I all got matching ones last Christmas,” he said, “I like to wear them. They remind me of home.”

“Yours are still more embarrassing, Jim,” you said. He waved a hand to shut you up. 

“Why did you guys run all the way down here?”

“The ship has dropped out of warp,” Sulu said.

“Are we in friendly space?”

“We’re in unknown space, Captin,” Chekov said with a sigh. “As far as we can tell, there are no nearby life forms.”

“Either way, shields up,” Jim ordered.

“Already done, sir.”

“Good. Now, no more interruptions,” he said. “Let’s go figure this out.”

“All of us?” Leonard asked.

“We’ve all made it this far,” Jim said with a shrug. “I guess we’re all going to engineering.

You were not aware that the ship even had stairs, the thought never crossed your mind that one day you might have to go down twenty flights of them. When the group finally arrived in engineering, you all took a moment to catch your breaths.

“Everyone alright?” Leonard asked. Everyone grumbled in the affirmative. 

“What are you all doing down here?” Scotty asked, walking up one of the metal staircases that led deeper into engineering.

“We’re here to fix the energy core,” you said, your eyes widening as he reached the top of the stairs. He was wearing red plaid pajamas, which would have been normal, if not for the matching nightcap on his head.

“If you had one of those you really would be Scrooge,” you muttered to Leonard. He let out a breath of laughter but shook his head.

“What?” Scotty asked.

“What are you wearing?” Jim asked.

“What are you wearing?” Scotty asked, putting his hands on his hips, “I know the Enterprise inside and out, and I wouldn’t even wear those.” The group all tried to stifle their laughter, especially when Jim glared at them.

“Scotty, the energy core.”

“I’m working on it,” he said.

“What’s the holdup?”

“I am missing a piece,” Scotty said sheepishly. “I have Keenser looking for it now, seeing as he is the one who lost it!” he yelled over the railing. “But so far--”

“What does it look like?” Uhura asked. “We can all look for it.”

Scotty described what he was looking for, then set all of you off in different directions of engineering to see who could find it first. You were walking through a section of machinery, all still humming quietly, with lights blinking every few seconds, when you heard a muttered curse. 

Turning the corner, you spotted Leonard rubbing his toe as he glared down at a box of supplies. You laughed softly, and he looked up.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. Just can’t see anything in this mess, even if I knew what I was looking for.”

“Want to search together?” you asked. “I can point out boxes of supplies to you.” He smiled weakly at you but nodded his head.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for--”

“Do not call me Scrooge again,” he said, following you to another shelf of supplies.

“I wasn’t. I was just going to say you,” you said. Leonard kept your gaze for a moment longer than expected. “So, um, I think it might be in this mess here.”

“Mess is right,” Leonard said, jumping on the change of subject. “Who keeps their stuff like this?”

“Oh, that would be me.”

“Ah hell, Y/N, I’m so--”

“Don’t be,” you said, “I know how I work. Maybe if I kept my stuff more organized we all wouldn’t be stuck searching in the dark.”

“You don’t know it’s here,” Leonard said, “Besides, it’s nice.”

“What is?”

“Tonight. I’ve always wanted to have a pajama party with the crew.” You laughed and crouched down to check the lower shelf.

“Found it!” someone called. You looked towards the sound and your eyes locked with Leonard’s.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. As the two of you walked back towards the group, he didn’t let go of your hand until you were in view of the crew.

“Keenser had it the whole time,” Nyota said, leading Spock and the alien in question into the gathered group. Everyone’s jaws fell open when they saw what Keenser was wearing.

“Where the hell did you get those?” Scotty asked, his face reddening with annoyance as Keenser walked up to the group with the missing piece and a matching pair of pajamas to Scotty’s.

“Scotty, please, it has been a long night,” Jim said.

“Right.” He took the piece from Keenser and within a few minutes, had the energy core back up. It hummed and started to rotate normally again.

“No power though?” Sulu asked.

“The core takes a little while to heat up,” you said, “Unless in emergency situations, the core should be given twenty minutes to return to proper functioning.”

“Why did this even happen in the first place?” Jim asked.

“We switched models last year,” Scotty said. “This one doesn’t need to be swapped every few months, except it wasn’t updated in the ship’s programming. The Enterprise turned it off as a security precaution.”

“So this won’t happen again?” 

“No, sir.”

“I’ll make sure the ship is updated first thing in the morning,” you said. Jim let out a sigh and nodded his head.

“Alright. Thank you all for your help. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The group made their way back up the stairs. Jim followed Chekov and Sulu onto their level, muttering something about getting a drink with Chekov. Nyota and Spock said their goodbyes at their level, until it was just you and Leonard.

“Thank you for helping us look,” you said. “Sorry Jim dragged you out of bed.”

“Don’t be,” Leonard said with a wave of his hand. “He usually finds a way to ruin my night one way or another.”

“Did you have plans tonight?”

“No. I intended to make some, but . . .”

“But?”

“I sort of chickened out,” he said, looking at you with a smile. 

“What kind of plans? Not a different pajama party?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “I wanted to ask someone out.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s alright, I got to spend the night with them anyway.”

“Oh,” you said again, your eyes locking with his as he stopped in front of his door. 

“Not my idea of a first date,” he said, “But still an enjoyable evening.”

“I agree. So when are you going to get the courage to ask for a second date?”

“Right no--” He stopped talking when you were plunged into darkness, even the emergency lights going out. “What’s the matter now?”

“Nothing. When the core starts up, everything is shut down for two minutes.”

“Really? In that case . . .”

If anyone had been left out in the hall, when the lights came on, they would have found you and Leonard entangled in each other’s arms, in the middle of a hell of a kiss. You broke away with the lights and looked at him, breathless.

“So? A second date?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d love to.”

“Me too. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Leonard.”

[vicmillen]

Ok, I'm looking through the folders and found something that, uh, I did not remember writing at all. Jesus, almost spit out my drink reading it.

For context this should be something in response to this post I made, although the post is made after I wrote that? This might be the first ever entry about LU I have, in fact. How the hell I forgot about it is beyond me...

Anyway, here's the... short scene, I guess. Please forgive the unfinished battle sequence, I'm still not sure how to do that fight scene.

****

Abruptly, Warriors felt like the Deity's scrutiny lifted from his body like a physical weight, Their attention shifting to the approaching champion. No, no. Why is Wild going against his order? Dread curls in the captain's chest, Why isn't he keeping away!

The Deity narrows their eyes at the new comer, and slammed their massive sword into Warrior's shield so suddenly that the captain went flying backwards. Except, what he fears the most did not happen, Wild did not instantly become a red smear on the ground. Instead, the Deity cocks their head, almost curious.

Wild sneaks a worried look at Warriors, then wordlessly stepped in front of him. For a stretched second, not a single sound is heard across the parade grounds, all the heroes watching on with bated breath.

The Deity is the first to break the silence. But what they say next sends all of the heroes into confusion.

"I sense my mark on you. Don my face, Wildling. Show your worth."

The champion hesitated for a moment, then in a familiar flash of blue, a smaller Fierce Deity stands in his place. Gasps is heard all around, but the Deity doesn't seems to notice them anymore.

"And my sword."

A pause, then another flash of blue, that iconic two toned blade appeared in the champion's hands. Two identical Fierce Deities stood face to face, albeit one is much smaller than the other.

Now that the initial shock has died down somewhat, Warriors can see the difference between the two. Not just in their build, but their aura too. That, more than anything, eased his worry a little... Right until the smaller figure charges straight at the Deity.

The heroes let out their second collective gasp,

~~~~

W: sprint attack

FD: side step & slash

W: back flip dodge & flurry rush

FD: side step mid-rush and horizontal slash

W: bolck w/sword & ragdolls

FD: beam attack aiming mid air

W: snap paraglider to halt momentum, then throws his sword into beam

FD: surprised dodge, sword stuck in grond behind FD

W: bullet time with two volleys multishot bomb arrows

FD: brief stun

W: face FD w/ no weapon

FD: forward slam

W: backflip dodge, another stun attempt with bow

FD: stun failed & immediate slash

W: empty hand perfect dodge, moves behind FD

FD: backwards stab

W: step onto blade and kicked off into backflip, bullet time electric shot at FD's chest piece, lands next to thrown sword

FD: turn with half spin slash

W: side step flurry rush, pick up sword

FD: side step the side step, upward slash

W: parry fail, went flying

FD: jump attack

W: blocked mid-air w/ sword, still slammed into ground by FD

~~~~

The dust settles around the two pale figures, then to the shock of everyone, Fierce Deity throws their head back and laughed.

"Very well, seems like there is an end in sight after all." Their voice booms. Then the deity narrowed their eyes at their split image laying beneath them, an unnerving smirk growing on their face. Without warning the Fierce Deity raised his hand and pried off their mask in one swift motion.

Leaving a disoriented Time behind to face the absolute shock of his life.

[spyridonya]

i will be an enabler. “ may i have this dance? “ for sophus and raphael could be fun maybe? 👀

oh my god i have an enabler than enabled me to write over 1500 words for the first time in months, thank you romeo! ❤️ first time trying to write in 2nd person, which normally isn't my thing, but we'll just blame the game's narrator.

sacred romantic raph being an ass moments meme

The uncanny stillness of the eternal gloom seeps into flesh and bones, even under the shelter of lacy moonlight. The sensation of coiling vastness would disquiet any soul, yet you find yourself reminded of the antipeak hours of your home when the wane of the luminescence leaves all to lantern light. This is not an unknown concept to the singular tadpole that remains coiled just behind your eye; you are both creatures of the planes on the most molecular level. The lapping sounds of water are still alien to your ears despite its gentleness, it's the strumming of Alfira's lute from far away that puts you at ease, the lazy notes falling like snowflakes upon your nerves, and the bard none the wiser.

The sound of teleportation makes your tadpole jump, though years of training that keeps you from the startle from rolling down your body, and keeping you still as a stone as the notes continue to waver in the air, the commotion too far for Alfira's attention. But that moment of panic is brief, you recognize the sound of this particular user.

It's not that uncommon of a skill, most arcane weavers can attest the sounds of a teleportation spell are based from it's point of origin. You wouldn't know the difference between the sounds of the Elemental Plane of Water from the Heavens, but you know the sounds of the Lower Planes. You won't ever forget the horrific timbre that aches like a soul shredded between rusty gears. 

You knew it long before the cambion set eyes upon you and yours upon him.

You don't give him the satisfaction of turning to him, presenting the solid wall of your back to him, a move that would have your comrades in the Cage mutter as if you had gone addled in the brain-box. An action that would make your current comrades mutter as if you had gone mad. 

The cambion’s steps are slow and purposeful against the ancient wood, making Raphael sound heavier than a man his size should be.

It's an old rage that makes your hand move, and your arms follow as the glaive swings. The weight feels sluggish in your hands, though the powerful muscles of your arms and the twist of your torso carry the motion until the blade just stops at the cambion's throat. Above the blade, Raphael grins, his teeth white against the copper of his skin.

You hate acknowledging how fetching that smile is, as if he were not your elder by millennia in truth and decades by appearance. That coyness is so strange and you find the pulse in your throat is throbbing as if you're the one with blade point against skin.

"Such unfathomable treatment of a guest, my dear boy. One would think you're displeased to see me."

"Whatever made you believe that, princeling?" You grit out; you know he's a cambion but not his sire. But cambions do not become this powerful without some false pride of their mastris on their tongue. You have your notions, but don't speak them.

"Ah, Sophus, you wound me- or have attempted at the least." Raphael chuckles lightly, his hand gently pushing the pole of the glaive from him in a slow arch, and you allow him to do so. Those heavy footsteps creak against the planks of the old dock once more, “You seem most eager to create of me an adversary.” Your gaze is hard as it narrows down upon the human form of the cambion, despite how you lower your weapon.

Raphael stops at his comfortable distance, a sentiment not entirely shared by you as your muscles tense. The cambion does not bring a rhyme to the curl of his lips nor show the flash of his teeth, he merely studies you with that coy gaze of his as darkness shrouds his amber eyes. “What are you here for?” You ask, knowing his old enemy is dead and in the Hells. Suddenly, you remember the child and your hand tightens on your weapon, “Not the girl, not Mol.”

“For all your sharp teeth, little mouse, you forget yourself and your mind. You know as well as me that such investment in a child would never mature so rapidly.” He lifts his arms in a shrug, the motion muscle under the doublet that he wears is noticeable, “Let her grow, let her learn. Isn’t it far safer for her to know the dealings of the law than the grind of the Abyss?” A striking motion of his hand, and his amber gaze meets your steel. “No, no. Do not think that of me. Rather, I came to offer something else.”

You mutely realize that your back is to the water while the cambion’s to the Last LIght Inn. And yet Alfira’s music still floats about you, defying the stillness of the gloom and the tension of your body. Yet, all Raphael does is smile, offering his hand. His fingers look refined, straight, the tendons perfect and nothing like a man approaching his 50th turn of the spire, much less his possible 2500th.  “May I have this dance?”

There’s no humor in the high cheek bones nor his knowing smile, only a curious tilt of his brows. And he holds this pose for a moment, and you think you will out wait him when he realizes what he’s begun. Your mind flickers to Wyll and the rejection on his face as you turn your head from his dance. You rejected a good man, a good person. 

Your arms lift over your head, to return the glaive to it’s strap on your back and carefully you take Raphael’s hand. 

"I dare not ask if you are aware of any Calimshite dance,” Raphael responds and to his credit, he does not leer at the small triumph he’s won, “Such a question would be an insult to us both. However, a Havana based box step may be unfamiliar in name, but perhaps not in motion?"

The cambion's hand is warm in yours, his hand steady on your hip, yours upon his, and blood hammers in your ears as you follow his first step all the while your mind screams to stop.

In no time at all, you are led into a dance as Alfira continues to play to her unknown audience of two. Raphael is right, you may not know the name, but you know the motions and the damnable cambion knows each step - practiced until perfect. 

“In terms of asking a question that would insult either one of us, what are you getting at, Raphael?” You ask quietly, not sure what the tieflings above you in the inn would think of such dance or the intimacy of a cambions warmth not quite against your body. You try not to think of it as well, your mouth straight, your eyes narrow - even if old shames creep into your mind - a moment of wondering if the cambion truly likes what he sees. 

Or what he can harvest from you. 

“A planer-touched greeting to his fellow kin, even if we’re not entirely neighbors.” He replies with that charming grin as he leads you from the length of the dock that stretches over the water and closer to to the shallows that lead up into the Inn. “What is after this grand, heroic gesture of yours? Do you perhaps have a faction in the Cage that would approve of such?” The cambion’s grin stretches, seeing the line on your face, the lowering of your eyes. “I could help you get home… if you wish to go home.”

That is when you stop, that is when you pull away, your heavy steps creaking under you, not trusting the way your body reacts to the question and the way you breathe through your nose. 

Raphael does not look insulted, not ashamed, not even smug with that little curve of his smile. Rather he stands straight and tall, though he barely reaches your chin, and regards you in a way that makes you feel small despite your being far taller and larger. 

You find you want to wipe this expression of his face, hold him down and-

“I do not take silence as a no, little mouse,” The irony of that nickname isn’t lost, “Nor a yes… but an aasimar hiding as a half elf can only keep the ruse for so long, if only to himself. This is not your home, Sophus Firesbane. This place is so alien to your senses and to the powers that call themselves gods offend your sense of fairness.” The cambion takes a step back, then another, and this time you don’t follow, “Perhaps even more than you are offended by me.” And his tone becomes rumbly smoke, “Though I don’t believe you’re as offended by me as you wish you were.”

You don’t strike this time, though your arm aches to move. Once more you glare, “My oath is far more important than your promises.” From all that you’ve learned about fiends, you know how prized a paladin soul truly is to fiendkin. Including cambions with powerful sires never spoken.. 

“That oath of yours,” Raphael shakes his head, the dark mahogany of his hair almost tumbling from its perfect coif. “You’ve a long way in the darkness ahead, little mouse. Perhaps this will be a conversation for another time, if you survive.”  There is a scent of brandy, cherries, and sulfur that sours the sweetness - and the sound of souls being torn by rusty iron gears. “I hope that you do.” 

Once more you find yourself almost alone in the darkness, save for your silent and comfortable tadpole.

[warriornunsgirlfriend]

avatrice + 11. “The sun isn’t even up yet and you want me to do what?”

Okay this isn't exactly about avatrice but I was excited to share anyway. A sneak peek of a future scene in my Childhood!AU from Lilith's POV! Please enjoy!

“The sun isn’t even up yet and you want me to do what?” 

It was a miracle really that Lilith had managed to even convince Beatrice to meet her here, the lights from the gym muted in their refuge under the bleachers. She’d woken up early and roused a very annoyed Beatrice out of the bed next to hers, begging her to meet her in the gym before classes. 

Now they sit, their knees pressed together in the small space. From here Lilith can see every weakness in Beatrice’s form. The tired lines just underneath her eyes, the way her shoulders tighten, sitting impossibly straight even in this cramped position. Beatrice’s voice is whispered, harsh against the quiet hum of the electricity in the fluorescent lights above them.

“Oh come on, Beatrice. It’s just practice. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

She watches as Beatrice’s eyes widen only minutely and a soft flush appears across the freckles scattered along her cheeks. She looks almost ridiculous, like a deer caught in a headlight and under any other circumstances, Lilith might have teased her for it. 

But right now, anxiety is coiling through her own chest and she tightens her fists at her side to stop her hands from giving away how nervous the request is actually making her feel. 

“But why do we have to practice kissing?” 

Lilith can feel the back of her neck prickle with heat as images of a certain sixth year girl with gorgeous skin and a teasing smile flash across her mind. It’s a fair question but she can’t bring herself to admit the truth, that she’s never kissed anyone. The thought of actually admitting that she’s bad at anything, let alone something so simple, is mortifying. So she just shrugs. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, Beatrice. You’ll meet a man, or someone one day, and you’ll be grateful for the chance to practice.” 

The way Beatrice wrinkles her nose at the thought is almost enough to lighten the nervous weight on her own chest and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She doubts very much it will be a man who steals Beatrice’s heart one day but it isn’t Lilith’s place to say so.  Instead she nudges Beatrice’s knee with her own. “Come on, I never ask you for anything. And if you help me with this I swear I’ll owe you. Whatever you want.” 

The nervous knot loosens ever so slightly when Beatrice rolls her eyes and finally gives in with an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But you have to stay with me during break next week?” 

Her voice falters at the end, as if she isn’t sure for a moment that Lilith will agree. Which is absurd, really, because it’s such an easy request. She’s no happier at home than Beatrice is. “Deal.” 

“Okay. How-how do we do it?” 

The question takes her off guard and for the first time Lilith’s resolve almost disappears. It had seemed easy before when she was imagining the scenario in her head. Practice with Beatrice had seemed a lot less daunting than asking Lucia straight up for a date. But now Lilith falters, considering Beatrice for a moment before finally huffing out an annoyed breath. 

“I think we just need to go for it.” 

Beatrice nods and then squeezes her eyes shut, her face scrunching up in concentration as she freezes. Lilith only rolls her eyes and leans forward, closing the small distance between them in a fluid motion. “Geez. I’m not going to bite you. Relax.” 

The words are murmured for just an instant before Lilith closes her eyes too and presses her mouth against Beatrice’s, lingering for one brief, chaste moment. 

Beatrice’s lips are chapped and the small touch tickles against her own before Beatrice is pulling away, her eyes flying open. 

“How was that?” Her words are rushed and another bright flush dusts across her face.  It occurs to Lilith that Beatrice must be as nervous as she is. 

She only rolls her eyes to hide the mirth just lying under the surface of her nervousness and shakes her head. “I think you have to stay still for longer than a second for it to really count.” 

The challenge does the trick. It’s enough for Beatrice to frown, her eyebrows drawing forward as she huffs in annoyance. “Fine. Try again, then.” 

Lilith only shakes her head, amusement loosening the nervous coil in her chest completely now. It really is too easy to rile Beatrice up. But underneath the humor a surge of warmth settles against her chest. Beatrice may be uptight, and even a little oblivious sometimes. But she’s a good friend and any anxiety Lilith might have had over the request eases as she leans forward to kiss Beatrice again. ______________________________________________________________

The afternoon sun slants across their two bodies, laid out against Beatrice’s bedroom floor. A song plays idly in the background on Beatrice’s record player, filling the room with soft noise that fades easily into the background around them. 

Lilith turns her head to watch her friend for a moment, the way the light trails down Beatrice’s face, her eyes closed and her lips parted as she breathes out evenly. It’s the most relaxed Lilith has ever seen her and she can’t help but smile at the image. Whatever Ava is doing, it’s obviously doing wonders for Beatrice. Even if she is an annoying shit. 

“What’s it like? Being with Ava?” 

The question is blurted out before she can stop herself. But she finds that she doesn’t quite regret it, even if the back of her neck does warm. She shifts and props herself up on her elbows so she can look at Beatrice, who only opens her eyes and turns her head toward Lilith, pondering the question for a moment. 

“It’s…. wonderful.” Beatrice breathes out the last word in a small exhale, a soft blush creeping along her ears and cheeks. Her lips tilt upward in a soft smile and she grins sheepishly, “I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy.” 

The sight sends a pleasant ache through Lilith’s chest. Even a few months ago it was obvious Beatrice wasn’t happy. Lilith very much doubted Beatrice would have known what happiness looked like even if it slammed right into her. Which Lilith supposed, it sort of had. 

It takes her a moment to place the odd fluttering emotion in her chest. Hope, she realizes with a jolt of surprise. If Beatrice of all people could find happiness, then maybe it wasn’t completely unattainable. Maybe it’s something Lilith can earn too. The image of Camila’s mischievous smile, the soft dimples at the corner of her lips, and the way her curled hair catches the light plays across Lilith’s mind, sending a pleasant swoop through her belly. 

“If I confess something to you, do you swear not to judge?” 

Beatrice’s eyebrows furrow ever so slightly and she shifts too until she’s propped up on one elbow, her head resting against her hand. “Do you have feelings for Ava, as well?” 

Her lips purse against a teasing smile at the question and Lilith barks out a surprised laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t date Ava even if she was the last person on this earth. You can have her. Besides, I have my sights on someone else.” 

Beatrice’s grin widens, a genuine smile with a flash of teeth. She nudges Lilith’s leg with her foot. “Are you going to tell me who it is?” 

It’s new, this sudden vulnerability and understanding between the two of them and Lilith clings to the warmth it brings even as she falters for a moment, anxiety tightening around her chest as she answers. “It’s Camila…” 

Beatrice’s eyes widen in surprise and Lilith is ready, an apology right on the tip of her tongue. She can feel the flush on her face as she opens her mouth to explain, to take it back maybe. But Beatrice only grins again, her eyes bright with delight. “That’s wonderful!”

“Really? You’re not mad?” Lilith had honestly expected more pushback. Considering that just a few weeks ago they weren’t even talking, she hadn’t expected Beatrice to be so supportive. She studies Beatrice’s face for any sign of hidden frustration, or annoyance, but she doesn’t find any. Beatrice’s smile is still relaxed, her eyes squinting against the sunlight streaming through the blinds covering the window. But her expression is sincere, open, and Lilith finds herself relaxing as Beatrice answers, 

“Why would I be? I think it’s great, truly.”

“I don’t know.” Lilith shrugs, her attention moving to the carpet underneath them. She tugs at a loose strand, wrapping it around her finger as she answers, “She’s your little. I know you feel responsible for her.” 

The memory of their argument is still raw between them, the lingering words heavy against Lilith’s chest. She can’t quite bring herself to meet Beatrice’s gaze. Silence settles over them, awkward and stifling for several long moments. 

“I’m sorry, Lilith. What I said before, it wasn’t fair—“ 

Lilith rolls her eyes to hide the uncomfortable prickle of nervous tears welling in her eyes. “You’ve already apologized. You don’t have to—“

“Let me finish.” Beatrice raises her hand and Lilith falls silent, swallowing against the stupid lump in her throat. 

“It wasn’t fair and I want you to know, I don’t really think you’re…what was it I said?” 

“Heartless.” Lilith almost whispers the words, her heart clenching painfully against them, a juxtaposition to the accusation. Beatrice was right, she hadn’t been fair to say it. But Lilith couldn’t deny there was truth in the perception she gave off to people. Her mother was heartless. Her grandmother even more so, and if Lilith was honest her biggest fear is that she would end up mean and bitter, just like them. Beatrice’s words, said in a righteous fury of the moment, had pierced Lilith’s weakest point. 

“I don’t think you’re heartless. And I think Camila would be really lucky.” Beatrice’s hand wraps around her own and it takes every ounce of willpower Lilith has to stop the sob threatening to choke out of her. She finally looks up, her eyes stinging with tears only to find Beatrice’s own tears reflected back at her. Despite her best efforts, her vision blurs and she feels a single wet drop escape down her cheek. She laughs, watery and weak, and Beatrice does too. 

Maybe this is what happiness really looks like. Or at least something similar. The warm sun heating her skin in the afternoon, shared tears and laughter between friends. She can feel all the cracks within her, frayed and ragged. It doesn’t heal, not even close. But Lilith thinks, here with Beatrice’s tear-filled laughter mixing with her own, maybe for now this is enough.  The promise of a new beginning. For both of them. 

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 22 (Crosshair)

Summary: Avery finishes her discussion with Crosshair

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Welcome to 2024! Good bye 2023 and your trash nonsense.

I hope everyone is having a lovely 2024 now that we're two days in, I wish everyone a better year, and that nothing but good things happen for all of you.

Love oo

Italics - flashback

Warning: flash of anger, annoyance, flirtations, brief mention of casualties, banter, implication of killing, medical discussions, loss of person's character, tenderness, realizations of love, I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

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“I don’t need to know who you are. You stated your plans here” Crosshair picked up the packet waving it in front of her face before throwing it on her desk, followed by his hands slamming her desk to make a point. 

“Correction, what’s written in the packet, is the plan that was forced upon me, I had no choice but to put in. That is not my plan! But did you bother to ask that? NO! JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AROUND HERE, YOU JUST GO AHEAD AND IGNORE EVERYTHING I HAVE TO SAY AND RECOMMEND!”

Crosshair flinched at her raised voice, he wasn’t sure if it was the sheer frustration in her voice, the fact her face went red like a tomato when she was yelling at him, or maybe it had to do with her small, stout stature trying to appear tough, either way for the first time he felt sympathy for someone outside of his brothers. He let out a disappointed sigh as he looked down to her desk, partly because of her and the fact people ignored her recommendations, but also partly because he was no better than a bull in a china shop.

“Alright, I should’ve asked rather than just jump down your throat, however, why put the plan in there,” he motions to the packet “if you don’t want us to use it?” He looked back up at Avery, locking eyes with her. Noticing her own frustrations, and annoyance in them.

“Have you not listened to anything I just said?” Avery let out with a sigh of exhaustion as she leaned on her desk, “I’ll explain everything at the briefing. I have a plan, my plan that I believe we should use. The plan in the packet, is the one approved by the bigger ups, but we can make tweaks to it, that will greatly reduce the risk of casualties. How about next time, instead of barging in here looking for blood, you could try having a conversation with me and just build trust. Honestly, what kind of people have you dealt with?” 

“Why? You gonna hug me to make me feel better?” 

It wasn’t like him to flirt with a fellow officer, but Crosshair liked her fire, the passionate spirit within her. He smirked as he took a moment to really take her in, looking her up and down. He stood from his bent position, crossing his arms as he smiled at her, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hug from you if you were looking to make me feel better.”

“God, I want to punch you so bad right now” Avery responded as she righted herself as well.

Crosshair smirked, he didn’t know at which point he started to find her interesting and became more intrigued by her, but he was never one to shy away from a challenge, “You know a kiss is more advisable than a punch, less painful too.” He winked.

She wanted to hit him, but at the same time he was being quite adorable. She felt her face heat up, she cleared her throat, “You know Captain, that desire to punch you just increased.” She leaned forward smiling, hoping to push his buttons, “And for your information, it will be a cold day in hell when I kiss you”

Crosshair’s smile widened, “I love a good challenge.” 

He grabbed the packet, he so passionately tossed down on her desk and headed towards the door his hand hovered on the door knob, he turned back to look at her over his shoulder, “Do you know how a sniper like me became a Captain?”

“You shot your previous Captain” she sneered.

He couldn’t help chuckling at her statement, “No. Although, I probably should’ve.” He smirked at her look, “Story for another time, anyway it’s because no matter how far or difficult the angle might be to hit my target, I never miss.” He smiled once again, giving her a wink, “See you at the briefing, Captain Taylor.”

“I can see why my sister fell for you.” I smirked, shaking my head slightly, “You’re as much of a stubborn pain in the ass Officer, as she is. Was. Is.” I ran my hands over my hair, leaning back in my chair as the realization of how much of her I lost hit me. I looked up to the shell of what she used to be lying there in front of me, “I don’t know anymore.”

Crosshair nodded as he focused on Avery, his fingers still running through her hair, “She used to love it when I did this for her; when she was stressed or anxious, she’d put her head on my lap and start nagging until I started running my fingers through her hair.”

His unsolicited confession threw me for a loop, I never imagined he could’ve ever been that kind. I always imagined him as a ruthless and cold man. Yet seeing the way he looked at her, the smile he had on his face as he was recounting their first encounter, even the tender touches I was witnessing now, it made me realize how much in love they truly were, especially since she hated having people touch her hair. 

“Excuse me”

We both turned to look at the doctor standing at the door, “Doctor Williams” I responded as I subtly and quickly wiped a tear away.

“Layla, Crosshair” he nodded to both of them as he walked in, he was a middle aged man, capable in his job, as most doctors should be but usually weren’t. 

Crosshair didn’t particularly like him, he was a good enough doctor but there was something off about the man that he couldn’t exactly put his finger on, but at least he looked after Avery diligently and faithfully. 

“Layla was telling me you think it’s time we made the decision to turn off her ventilator” Crosshair’s question was more of a statement as he noticed the doctor stood a little too close to Layla. 

Not that he really cared, after all she was just his wife’s sister. 

He silently huffed at the phrase, it was one he repeated to himself ever since he met Layla. He didn’t quite understand why, but he never felt comfortable calling her his sister-in-law, and after meeting Mel, Zaina and Kamarie, he really didn’t feel comfortable calling her that. 

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@justanothersadperson93​ @liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ @clonethirstingisreal

[cryingisnecessaryfanfics]

Xiao x GN Faerie Reader P. 5

sorry it took almost nine months lol working on the next part rn.

TW: brief mentions of blood, vomit, and injuries.

double post today :D

Part 4

The faerie wakes up exhausted and confused. No longer are they sleeping on the cold hard roof but in a bed with warm blankets and a familiar body next to them. The faerie suddenly becomes aware of every tingling spot on their body, all points of connection, places where their skin meets the skin of another. They fight the urge to lean into this odd yet pleasant feeling, knowing on the other side of the bed was a very injured and grumpy Adeptus.

The memories return slowly, a blur of motion becoming clear in their mind. First, it's the fear that suddenly comes to mind, flashes of blood and black, vomit being swallowed down and working through the dizziness. It hits the faerie in a rush, a sudden nauseating feeling growing in their stomach at the memories. But more follow right behind them, a different sort of nausea, one that screams embarrassment and frustration. They recall the image of Xiao’s shirtless body and with the lack of adrenaline to mask the attraction a burning feeling creeps up their neck and spreads on their face. They knew Xiao was strikingly handsome beforehand, just looking at him from a distance could tell you that much. But now- now they had seen what is not usually shown, had seen his skin without censor, only marred by injuries that made the faerie's stomach stir.

They push the arousal out of their mind reminding themself yet again that Xiao was no more than a patient, just someone in need of healing. Another flash of memories plays out in the faerie's mind, snippets of awoken slumber, stirred by the karma surrounding them. The faerie remembers an argument in snapshots, broken lines of dialog blurred by exhaustion. Only one instance was clear, a scene burned so clearly in their mind it almost hurt to recall.

“You need to rest! No slipping by me while I’m sleeping!” The faerie's voice is uncharacteristically angry, their eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“You have no respect for the Adepti.” Xiao’s words are cold and stubborn.

“I would disagree considering I’m trying to keep ‘the Adepti’ from killing himself!” The faerie has no filter having awoken from their sleep to the sound of a certain Adeptus limping onto the roof. “I did not work myself dry keeping you alive for you to fall off some roof because you’re too stubborn to lie down!”

“I wouldn't-“

“For archons sake Xiao! You better get back in that room or so help me I will get Rex Lapis himself to make you!” The faerie looks downright terrifying like this, their wings which usually rest in a downward-facing manner are now spread to their full height and Xiao has to strain his neck just to look up at them. The faerie’s natural instincts have taken over to appear more threatening though they are unaware of it, and Xiao is quite frankly too tired and weak to fight with them any longer. Not to mention the fact that the faerie is definitely crazy enough to hunt his master down and threaten him into making Xiao rest.

“Fine.” The Adeptus mumbles and the faerie shouts a cry of joy in response.

The two approach the spare room for the second time that night. Xiao sits on the uncovered bed stiffly and the faerie hums happily as they take a seat on the floor in front of the door.

“W-what are you doing?” The Adeptus can't help but ask.

“Making sure you can't leave.” The faerie replies with a smug smile. Xiao bites his lip as he debates asking the faerie to sit with him on the bed. He blames his temptation on his physical impairments and clears his throat awkwardly.

“It’s, uhm, less painful when you are close.” He mumbles and the faerie's eyes widen at the statement.

“Oh.” They shake their head as if to rid themself of embarrassment. “Right, I’ll sit on the bed with you then.”

The faerie remembers only awkward glances and movements after that. They realize they must have fallen asleep while sitting on the bed with Xiao and try to hide the groan they let out in embarrassment.

After the faerie is through having a mini breakdown over the fact that they are in a bed and touching Xiao, they slowly peak over to the side where he lays.

His eyes are open. Shit.

"Good morning, Xiao." The faerie says and their voice barely even shakes.

"Good morning." He responds, blank and unaffected.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Adepti have no need for sleep."

"Xiao." The faerie sighs, "Your whole Adepti speech is really getting old."

Xiao only frowns in response to that. The faerie and Adeptus share a moment of silence before Xiao suddenly clears his throat.

"How did you sleep?" He asks slowly as if he had never inquired about another person before.

"I slept well, thank you for asking." The faerie answers.

There is another awkward silence.

"I must be going now." Xiao stands abruptly and in an instant, he's vanished into a flurry of anemo particles.

The faerie just sighs again.

"Suppose I should've expected that." They say to themself.

On the roof of Wangshu Inn Xiao stood with his head in his hands. He had never felt so... good. Though it sounded odd to say, it was true. He was finally leaving behind centuries of pain and suffering. For the first time in so long, he finally felt something other than pain. That horrible feeling nested into his stomach was starting to lift. Instead of misery, instead of the heavy burden he was carrying, he felt something new. Something he couldn't quite name.

Something... good.

****

Taglist:

@itzashnow

[sweet-villain]

Have Faith In Me~ Part 2~Sequel To Believe

Summary : While Eddie Munson is living his dream, being a rockstar. You and Billy were having some relationship problems, Lilly is six in this story. What happens when Eddie decides to take time off from his rockstar life? What happens when he appears at your door?

Part 1

Tags : : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead @witchy-munson @tlclick73

My Master List is in This Area

" Daddy, no" Lilly screamed as she ran away from Eddie who has been chasing her claiming he was going to her and tickle her. It was so refreshing to see he was back from tour. But was he only here to see Lilly? You haven't spoken to him in months.

Eddie caught Lilly in his arms as he lifted up in her the air as he blew raspberries into her tummy. She squealed trying to get away from him. His hair tickled her too. She always was fond of Daddy's 2 hair comparing it to hers.

" Daddy! No!" she giggled before he set her down, kneeling down besides her and brushed her hair away. "You've grown so much since the last time daddy has seen you. Big girl" he cooed. She took her summer dress she was wearing a twirled for him. It was in baby look color with little stars on it. Her hair was in pig tails and her blue striking eyes were closed as she danced.

Eddie turns his head feeling eyes on him as he noticed you were watching him interact with his daughter. Even though Lilly wasn't biologically his daughter, Eddie was still her daddy from the very first time he held her in his arms.

He rose to his feet as he told her something and made his way where you stood to lean against the house.

" She's sweet as a little butterfly" he says as he looks back at Lilly who started to tell herself a story while sitting on the ground looking for worms.

" She's my little firecracker" you chuckled looking at Lilly too. Eddie's eyes turned to look at you, the way your hair was blowing in the wind, the way your eyes sparkled as you looked at your daughter, the way you had a smile on your face. He could tell how much Lilly meant to you and how she was the reason you were happy. But were you really happy? He looks back at the house and doesn't see Billy at the window like he had hoped.

" What's been going between you two?" he motions his head to the house talking about Billy and your relationship. Your eyes turned back to his, his hair hung a littler longer since the last time you saw him. His eyes were that brown chocolate color shade, his face looked as softest as ever. He sported a leather jacket , not the one that he used to wear with the Dio vest. This one was more expensive looking. He wore a Iron Maiden shirt underneath with black ripped up jeans, a chain like usual on the side of his pants. The chain looked different too. He still had the handcuff belt that he loved to wear and he had boots on his feet.

" We're fine" you mumbled, lying to him not really wanting to get into this with him right now. Eddie bite down on his bottom lip eyeing you and feeling the way you were closing up on the topic. Something you didn't want to talk about and he wasn't going to push.

" You know you can talk to me" he says. You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. He takes a few steps towards you and reaches out to rub your arms up and down.

" It's okay, I'm not going to push you to talk to me. But I feel like whatever is going on isn't good for Lilly right now" you scoffed.

" And you know what's good for Lilly? You aren't her real dad. Remember?" A flash of hurt flashes behind those brown chocolate eyes. You didn't need to be harsh but you weren't about let Eddie walk back in your life like this. But as soon as you said those words, you regret it and wanted to take back.

You sighed, " I'm sorry, Eddie. Things been rough and I didn't mean it"

He nods even though it did hurt for a brief moment coming from you. Coming from someone he still loves and cares about. He has been giving you your space and letting you come to him if you needed him. The phone calls with Lilly were long and he has asked about you. Lilly would always tell you were good and than continue what she was talking about to him.

The door opens as it creaks, you felt so familiar goosebumps appear on your neck knowing Billy was standing there.

" Dinner is almost ready" he says eyeing Eddie and you standing so close to each other with a snarl on his face. You couldn't really tell but Eddie did as he looked up at Billy.

" Lilly, come inside" Billy says with his arms across his chest. Lilly turned her head hearing her father call out to her. She gets up with some dirt on her cheek and some on her dresses as she passes you with a wave to you and her father.

" Go wash your hands, angel" she stomps up the steps and Billy takes her inside.

" Are you joining us for dinner?" you ask Eddie. Eddie shakes his hands as he stuff his hands into his leather jacket pockets.

" No, not tonight. I'm going stop by to see Steve" you nod with a thin line on your lips as you shifted from one leg to the other.

" It was good to see you Eds" the familiar nickname sent a warm feeling in his stomach as he smiles at you. Dimples all out.

" It was good to see you too, you look good. You always did" a hint of red flashes your cheeks as you looked away.

" Are you going to say bye to Lilly?" he almost forgot about that as he steps inside the house. His boots hitting the floor as he looks around. It's not usually his style from the way it looked inside but it looked cozy. He spots Billy in the kitchen with his back to him and Lilly comes out from down the hall from the bathroom.

" All done!" she happily says to Billy who looks down at her with a warm smile. " Good girl" he says as he returns to what he was making. Her eyes meet Eddie as she races to him.

" Are you staying?" she asks. Eddie leans down on one knee as he brushes her hair away from her face that she could see better.

" No, bug. Daddy has to go see Uncle Stevie" Lilly pouted throwing her arms around Eddie. " Love you, daddy" she mumbles against his hair. Her nose wrinkling feeling his hair tickling her face.

" I love you too, bug" he says as he kisses the side of her head. " Alright" he steps back and raises to his feet.

" Good to see you, Hargrove" Billy pauses as he hears him. All Eddie gets is a groan from Billy.

" Have a goodnight" he winks at Lilly as he walks out of the house but not before looking back at you one last time. His eyes meeting your eyes and you swore you saw that twinkle in his eyes. The one that used to make your heart flutter.

You locked the door hearing plates being set on the table. Billy doesn't look happy as he helps Lilly to her seat. You sit across from Billy who doesn't look at you or says anything. There is silence around the table. The only thing that could be heard where the forks against the plate and humming coming from Lilly in between her bites.

" When is daddy coming back?" Lilly asks breaking the tension in the room. You thank god she did because you wanted to say some words to Billy. But no in front of Lilly.

" Soon, angel. Soon" she beams at your answer as she finishes eating. " Thank you daddy" she slide off her chair and walks over to Billy. He leans down feeling her kiss his cheek.

" You're welcome, Lillypad" she giggles at the nickname as she runs to her room. Billy soon after took his and Lilly's plates to the sink not bothering to say anything else to you like he usually does. Something was bothering him. He didn't turn on the faucet to was the dishes.

He stood there besides the sink with arms on either side on the counter looking out the window.

" Are you upset?" you finally decided to ask. Billy snorts hearing you. He turns his head to look at you.

" Now why would I be upset?" He asks, rolling his eyes.

" Just because Eddie came back to see Lilly, doesn't mean he came to see me" Billy scoffs.

" Yeah, I've heard that one before" he turns around putting his arms across his chest.

" What is that suppose to mean?" you stood up from the table and grabbed your plate heading towards him. You put the plate besides the sink since he was in the way.

" Munson only came here not only to see our daughter, but you. He wants to fuck your pretty pussy" those words went straight to your core as you whimpered.

Billy chuckled watching you clench your thighs together.

" Look at you" his hands took a hold of your waist bringing you flush against his chest. You gasped feeling how hard he was.

" Feel that?" you whimpered looking up at him, into those blue irises. They were a darker shade of blue, he's smirking.

" That's all for you, doll" he cups your face in his hands and crashes his lips against yours. Rough and teeth. You pulled away, " All for me? I thought you were leaving me for Munson? What happened to that?"

His jaw clenched as he tsked, " You're going to regret saying that. You have no idea what I wanna do to you right now."

You can't help but giggle, not missing the way his eyes darkened. It causes your stomach to tie in knots because you know what to say to press his buttons.

" I don't regret anything, ever"

" Oh doll," he bites his bottom lip, " trust me. You will."

Without another blink you are pulled away from standing near the sink to being shoved forward against the counter on the other end, hands on the countertop. You can't help but smirk up at him loving to push his buttons, and the following leaves you wanting for more.

His big hands slide up and down your sides causing you to gasp. His chest to your back as his fingers trail down your arms to grasp at your own hands.

He's almost all the way on you, pushing his body between you and the counter. You wished there was a mirror right in front of you to see how his body melted against your own. You can feel his hard he is against your ass, chest against your back and hands on top of yours. His breath tickling your ear.

You can his his warm. Feel every inch of him but that's not what you wanted.

His lips brush against your ear, " I'm going to ruin you. I know Munson came here to provoke me and show his puppy eyes to you. Did you want him to come here? Do you want him to fuck you instead?" he chuckles, " and then you go to push my buttons. "

His voice was deeper as he whispered sending shover down your body causing you to rub your thighs together.

" N-no sir. O-only you"

He turns you around happy that you answered correctly. Your looking up him with lustful eyes and glance down at his lips asking him what you wanted. He understands right away, leaning down to connect your lips with his.

The kiss is rough, needy with teeth. But his lips against felt so good. You two haven't been intimate in a while. Your body felt like it was burning against his, tongue dancing as one, and need to feel each other grabbing onto his bulge, giving it a squeeze.

He grinds against your hand, grunting.

" I need you" you gasped.

He smirks as he steps back leaving you whimpering for him.

" Look at you, such a needy slut begging for my cock. Is that what you want? You want me to bend you over this counter and fuck you?"

He sounded so hot right now, he hasn't been like this before. Not when you used to have sex with him and not when you were trying for a baby. It made your mind cloud as you clenched onto nothing.

" Yes" you whimper, " need you sir. Please."

" Then, open your legs for me, now" he growled.

His hands tugged down your pants and your panties that were soaked through. You felt the cold air hit your core causing you to gasp, stepping out from your panties and pants that Billy threw over his shoulder.

" Don't need those"

You lifted off your shirt over your head, being left all for his view to see. He growled at the sight, licking his lips like he hasn't eaten in days. You laid back on the counter spreading your legs as Billy stood in between your legs as he grasped your waist.

He slide down finger through your slick folds causing you to moan his name. Either he didn't catch it because he let it go this time as he continued.

Billy snickers at your whimpering.

" Best be quiet. Don't want our Lillypad to hear" he moved his fingers away earning a whine from you. You watch him as he unbuckles his pants and pushes them down his hips, letting them pool at his feet before he steps out of them and kicked them to the side.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock and you wished right now that you had him in your mouth. But you patiently laid on the counter waiting for him.

He grabs onto your legs and lifts you off the counter and harshly turns you around. His hand coming down to your bare ass causing you to yelp.

He chuckles.

" Here is what I'm going to do, I'm going play with your little asshole until you learn to be quite"

You whimpered laying your cheek down on the counter and reaching behind your ass and spreading it. You knew twice than to disobey him. Last time you did, you couldn't sit for a couple of days.

Billy takes his index finger and middle finger and begins to rub them through your folds to gather some of your slick first. The touch made you jolt in shock, moaning at the feeling. His fingers felt so good and you could of come right there and there.

He moves to your ass, rubbing it over your hole, playing with it just like he said he was going to do.

He begins to push one finger in, a deep moan ripping from you. His other hand comes to your back, caressing it until he was knuckles deep in you. He pulls them out and slides back in, pumping you. You were a whining mess.

You needed more from him.

You pushed your ass back and he took this as a sign to add another finger, fingering you faster and deeper. You cursed underneath your breathe when he adds another finger, pumping into you.

Suddenly you gasped not feeling his fingers anymore, you were a crying mess missing his touch already.

" You ready, doll?" he asks, chuckling as you whimper in response.  

You nodded, eager for his cock.

But Billy needed words, he needed to hear your voice.

" Please, sir" you whimpered.

" Such a needy slut," he mumbles leaning down kissing one of your ass cheeks.

" Fuck you" you spatted, annoyed already by the way he was taking his time with you and being impatient. " Oh doll, you're about to," he chuckles pushing two fingers into your hole. You moan loudly and jerk from the feeling.

But, he pulls his fingers back out to take his cock in his hand, groaning as he gives it a few pumps. He grabs your waist with his other hand as he alines himself, pausing to wink at you as you look back at him as he pushes himself in.

He barely gives you time to moan or gasp as he pulls out and slams his hips forward, again and again.

Your moaning, mouth a jar in bliss and pure pleasure. He was going in and out of you with ease, quacking his pace.

The slick sound and the way his balls were slapping against your puss made your head spin, and Billy had his head thrown back as he thrusted in you. Groans coming out of him as he held onto your hips tight. You were sure he would leave bruises.

" Fuck.." you mumble against the counter, tears streaming down your cheeks as you moaned and sobbed together.

" Baby..." he heard you call him, causing him to moan as he missed the way you called him using that pet name.He was so deep inside of you making his cock twitch. He truly did love you with every fiber in him, and would do anything to have you in his life.

You felt your stomach tie in knots, you were close. Billy was close too, he wanted you to cum first though. One of his hands released from your hips and went to your clit, circling but that was not enough for him as he moved to your entrance, pumping his fingers fast in you.

" I'm g-going to-o c-cum" you mumbled, not even saying it clear as you shut your eyes. His fingers in you and his cock made the stomach that felt like a knot snap as you cum on his fingers and clenched around him. Your ass clenches around his dick making it seem like you were pulling him deeper in you.

Your body is tingling as you moan and say his name instead of sir like you were suppose to. Tears are running down your cheeks feeling the feeling of overstimulation.

Billy pauses as he removes his fingers from your pussy and grabs onto your hair bringing you as his hand comes to your throat. The pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He start thrusted into your harsh like an animal, chasing his own high hearing you whimper out to him.

" I'm close" he pants, he kept thrusting until the knot inside of him comes undone and he cums inside your ass, a loan moan erupting from him as he releases the hold from your neck.

He slowly slide himself out of you as he pants, stumbling against the sink counter with his hand on either side trying to catch himself steady. Your panting, tear eyed laying on the counter as you catch yourself and raising a bit to look over to him.

" Didn't know you could fuck me that good" He chuckles as he gets wet wash clothes and wipes you away. The wetness makes you hiss as he cleans you up and throws it into the sink once he's done.

He dresses himself up, his curls plastered to his forehead and helps you get dressed back up too. You throw your hair up in a messy bun, Billy leans down to kiss you, a small peck as he winks going to the sink as he starts the dishes.

The door creaks open and Lilly peeks her head out from the door.

" Are you and daddy finishing playing tickling each other?" she asks. Billy snickers hearing her. You shoot him a glare but he doesn't see it as he's washing the dishes.

" Yes angel, daddy and I are done playing"

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

" You look chippier today" Robin says as she puts in some milk in her cart. She had noticed you were glowing today and something was different about you.

" What is that suppose to mean?" she shrugs but she points to your face. " Your eyes have this look and your smiling"

" Am I not allow to smile?" you continue to roll the cart with various food items she needed. Billy was spending time with Lilly today, he had off work today and wanted to be with his little girl. Meanwhile Vicky had called you over telling you that Robin needed help grocery shopping while she goes into work. Robin had no idea what to pick out without Vicky's help.

" I never said that. But you look good, too good" you rolled your eyes. She gasped all of sudden causing you to halt in your step with the shopping cart.

" What?" you asked her.

" You dirty, dirty girl!" your eyes were wide as saucers. Did she figure it out already? She works fast.

" What are you on Buckley?"

" Billy fucked you good? Didn't he?" she asks. You slapped your hand over her mouth as you looked around to see if anyone had heard her.

" Say it louder why don't you?" you huffed. She licked your hand which you wiped against your jeans. " Gross"

" Oh shut up, not like you didn't like that" she joked.

" Did you see Eddie?" the question you wanted her to avoid asking you. It's not that you wanted to talk about Eddie. It's just seeing him has brought some sort of feeling inside of you. The feeling of your stomach tied in knots and the feeling of goosebumps.

That feeling.

" He came by to see Lilly" you picked up a box of cereal and dropped it into the cart not looking at Robin who was giving you a look.

" And did you talk to him?"

" Talk about what Robin?" she threw her hands up in the air.

" I don't know about life, how he left on tour.. I don't know... how you were the reason he his band got so big..I don't know the unknown feelings..."

" What feelings? There isn't feelings. I'm with Billy" she nodded.

" But are you in love with Billy or is this something else? Maybe Eddie coming back ins't a bad thing.. you know. You two have history"

" I love Billy, Eddie is the past"

She didn't really believe you. But she didn't press you on it anymore as she follows you returning to the conversation she had with you earlier about her dogs.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

" Mama!" Lilly beamed as she raced towards you when you arrived home with some of your own groceries in hand. They were taken away from you and set on the counter as Lilly wrapped herself around your legs.

" I missed you my little angel" you grab onto her hands and blew raspberries on them looking down at her. Her blue eyes were twinkling as she giggled.

" How was your day?" you asked her kneeling before her. She swung your hands side to side.

" Daddy took me to you work and I got special pancakes, we drove to the lake too and threw rocks. We looked for worms too" you laughed knowing how much she loved to look for her worms. Her little friends as she calls them.

You looked up at Billy as he watched you from where he sat. His head tilted to the side. His curls hanging against his forehead, blue eyes locking on you, his cheeks were flushed and a smile appears on his face.

" I'm glad you had a good day" she yawned and rubbed her eyes. " Nap?" she nodded her head. You picked up her up in your arms, grabbing her a juice that she liked to drink.

Billy gotten up to kiss her on the head as you carried her to her room. She drank her juice while you changed her into something comfy to wear letting her hair down from her pig tails.

" You look happy" she says climbing into her bed.

" You make mama happy" you lean down tickling her little tummy making her giggle pulling the covers over her. " Sleep well, my little one."

Lilly likes to take naps sometimes otherwise she's going to be cranky all day. She was old enough to not take naps but she has grown to it and you let her do it once a week.

She snuggled in her bed while you closed the door and leaving it a jar as you headed to the kitchen seeing Billy unpacking the groceries.

" You didn't have to that" he turns his head to see you standing there.

He shrugged, " it's no problem."

" Robin today basically told the whole store you fucked me so good" the box in Billy's hands dropped as he heard you. His head snapped to look at you to see if you were joking and when he didn't see a smile or hear a laugh, his eyes grew wide.

" She did what?" you nodded.

" Don't worry, I put my hand on her mouth before she can yell it to everyone in Hawkins"

He wiped an imaginary sweat off his forehead like that was a close one.

" She said I was glowing when she saw me and I was smiling" he stopped what he was doing as he came around you and wrap his arms around you putting his chin on top of your head.

" Are you happy with me?" he asked. You brought your head up to loo cat him searching his face to see what this was really about.

" I am, you know that" he nods.

" I know I haven't been around when Lilly was born and Munson, had to be here" he scoffed at the mention of his name leaving his lips. " I haven't treated you the best either, I'm sorry.."

" Who knew Billy Hargrove could apologize" he rolls his eyes as he slightly pushes you. " But your here now, Lilly loves you and I love you"

" I love you too" he says leaning down to peck your nose.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Steve suggested you all have a movie night like old times except this time Billy was bringing Lilly to work, the kids would be gone and it was just you, Eddie, Dustin, Steve, Robin and Nancy. The others couldn't make it for some reason.

It's been years since you have done this. Felt like years.

" Y/N, can you go get the bowl and fill it with chips? You know where it is right?" Steve asks as he sits on the floor looking through the movies that are laid out. He had to fight with Robin on which movies were being watched tonight.

" Yeah, I got it" you nodded as you stood up from the place on the couch and headed into the kitchen. You hummed as you looked around for that bowl that you know Steve's wife kept at. It was on the top shelf at the corner. You climbed onto the counter top on your knees and Eddie had happened to walk inside after going out for a smoke and sees you in his line of vision getting the bowl

But it's the peeking of your skin that catches him off guard from the way your shirt slide up. His lips apart as he licks his lips imagining the softness of your skin. He used to be able to feel it underneath his fingertips and against his lips.

He cleared his throat letting you know that you weren't alone in the kitchen. You hopped down from the counter with the bowl placed on the counter safely.

" Oh hey Eds"

" hey" he says as he walks towards your way and grabs the chips bag to help you out in opening it.

" You know my hands are capable of opening them myself" He smirks.

" No sorry, I wasn't informed your hands were working" he chuckled as you pushed his shoulder playfully.

" Shut it, Munson" he put his hands up laughing. Your head turned to look at him hearing him laugh. It used to be one of your favorite sounds in the world hearing him laugh. Your breath hitched not realizing how close he was and when he realized that too, he stopped laughing.

His eyes dropped down looking at your lips and back to your eyes than back to your lips and back to your eyes. You were still so beautiful to him. He fully turned to face you. You haven't fully took him, he's covered in tattoos. His hands too. He had a stubble going on that looked really good on him.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you grabbed the bowl but he took it out of your hands and placed it back on the counter. He had you backed against the counter with arms on either side of you as he leaned in a bit.

Not too close and not too far.

" What are you doing?" you asked, looking into his eyes. They were darker shade than you remembered.

" You're still so beautiful" he brushes a hair behind your ear. Usually this type of action would make you giggle like a school girl but you were with Billy.

" Eddie.." you give him a warning which he doesn't take as he leans closer. You can smell his expensive cologne on him, hint of weed and cigarettes off of him.

" Why not me?" Eddie asks, his fingers are itching to grab a hold of your hands in his but he doesn't and keeps them on either side of you. Why not him what?

Did he forget what he did to you? He cheated on you.

" I'm with Billy now" He nods but doesn't move away.

" Tell me to leave, tell me you don't want this..." he says. He has hope that you want him as much as he wants you. Your body is craving his touch and your mind is screaming at you to push him away and yet you can't. This was Eddie.

You loved this man with all your heart, he hurt you but he took good care of you and took care of Lilly too. You were confused on what you were feeling.

When you don't move Eddie brushes his lips against yours, just a small brush causing you to gasp as you push him away.

" I'm with Billy, what makes you think I want to be with you? Did you forget what you did or should I remind you?" He hung his head as he shook his head. He still has the clear picture of your face when you found out what he did.

" Is that why you did what you did?" he rose his head to meet your gaze. Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion on what he means. But you kinda figure it out. He means him becoming who he was today, with his band.

" Not really" you tell him. " Corroded Coffin deserved the world, and I pushed it into your hands"

He gently smiles.

" You know I'm never going to be thankful for what you've done" you nodded.

" It was your dream" He nodded. " It was but that wasn't all of it, my dream was to share it with you. To show the whole world that someone like me had someone like you by their side and I screwed it all up."

You pursed your lips, " Yeah, well. Things looked up for you anyways. I'm sure you had plenty of babes thrown your way anyways."

" Why does it matter how many?"

You rolled your eyes, " It doesn't matter" you picked up the bowl of chips but Eddie didn't believe that it didn't matter to you when clearly it does. It was just a number but that number seemed to bother you as you walked away from him.

You sat yourself between Dustin and Eddie who came trailing behind you. He threw his arm at the back of the couch sharing one more look with you before the move started.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

There was silence between the two of you as you told Billy what Eddie almost did. You were witting for Bill to lash out or say something mean to you. But he doesn't.

He's looking at the ground with his arm across his chest like he's thinking hard on this.

" I didn't kiss him or anything" He nodded letting you know he heard you. " Are you going to say something?" He rose his head to meet your gaze. Those blue eyes off his are glossy.

" What's wrong?" you step over to him bringing a hand to cup his cheek. " Baby?"

" He's going to take you away from me, away from Lilly" he sniffled as tears started to pool down his cheeks. " No, No, No" you shook your head as you wrap your arms around his neck. Billy wraps his arms around you as he buries his face into your neck.

" He's not going to take me away, no"

" Daddy?" you heard Lilly ask. Billy pulled away from you as he hears his daughter voice call out to him and brushed his tears away from his face. He doesn't want Lilly to see him like this.

He was strong and he didn't want Lilly to think her dad was weakling.

" Why are you crying?" Billy kneel down.

" I'm not crying" he shake his head but Lilly can see his red eyes and the fresh stained cheeks with tears.

Lilly walks into his arms, burying her face into his neck as she snuggles him. He stands up with her in his arms. Those two were a copy of each other.

He kisses on top of her head as he holds her.

" I love you daddy" she says. Her eyes turn to you.

" I love you mama"

" I love you too, both of you" you kissed Lilly's cheek and took one of Billy hands bringing it up to his lips. Billy looks down at you as you do and he smiles.

He hopes that his heart doesn't get heart broken. He doesn't want to lose you or Lilly.