#so many things to lose my mind over during these chapters i can barely get through a page without taking hysterical notes

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

I am climbing up the walls

[capricorn-writer-kawaii]

That Night in the Hot Springs

Chapter 1/3

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Enji Todoroki X Reader, ⚠️smut⚠️, fluff, angst, age difference, divorced Endeavor, ⚠️anime spoilers⚠️

Words: 2k

Summary: A divorced and hard-working Endeavor allows himself to lose his composure at the desire he feels for his young colleague. Yet, the flame hero did not count on the fact that what seemed to be just one wild night stand in a hot spring would lead him to fall madly in love.

A/N: This idea just kept popping up in my mind. In the end, it came out longer than expected, my bad, but if it's about Enji being soft and in love, I couldn't help but write a little more. Also, I was very excited to write about Endeavor after his wonderful character development. Why not give him a second chance?

Chapter 1 – Don’t play with fire, kid

Being alone with your boss was your favorite moment of the day because you can actually see him, not his heroic facade. Once the doors of his office were closed, Enji Todoroki freed himself from the pressure of being the number one hero, a task that not even himself was sure to be able to do it. All Might’s ghost will always haunt him. It had been a few years since All Might retirement and that fierce fight against Hood, the High-End Nomu. Moreover, Dabi's transmission had left serious consequences on how society perceived the flame hero. Yet, Endeavor's efforts to be a better person did not go unnoticed by everyone, earning not only the respect but also the affection of many, you included.

All his concerns disappeared when you were at your knees and with your mouth on his length. It has huge, it didn’t matter how many times you were together, Enji’s size always amazed you. Even so, you liked him so much that your body was always ready for him, even in moments when you weren’t supposed to feel turned on by him, you were. Maybe it was because he failed to hide it too.

The attraction he felt over you led him to gawk at you when you were working together. Seeing you in your costume drove him crazy. Why did you have to choose a design like that? He asked every time you walked in front of him. Why so stretch? Why did HE have to be like that?

He had never acted in such way, he was always so focused on his duties that he barely paid attention to other heroes until Hawks had that stupid idea of bringing you to Endeavor's agency. But how could he deny it? You were gifted, your quirk worked so well with his that it would be a waste not to accept you in his agency. Though, things escalated quickly from the moment he noticed how merciless with criminals you were. He couldn’t understand how you were the same person who laughed at Hawk’s lame jokes. In battles, you were fierce, you attacked with such spirit that you managed to take his breath away, but on your regular basis, you were so kind and lovely.

You shook his ground when Endeavor discovered your talent and witnessed your braveness. He had already been divorced for years but it was the first time he really fell for someone. However, Enji wasn’t willing to accept it because you were way younger than him, you were barely in your late 20s.

What the hell was wrong with him? He asked when he found himself getting a boner once during a battle, he helped you from falling from a building. Yet, when he caught you, he grabbed your ass and you automatically place your hands on his wide neck while his name was pronounced by your mouth. It sounded so sexy, especially being that close, that he almost lost concentration and hit another building.

From that day, he tried to behave as the respectful and serious man he had always been; thus, he tried not to work that often with you. However, he couldn’t deny your talent and Hawks started to question him why you weren’t working anymore with them in the most complicated cases.

“She’s amazing! Are you afraid she could get hurt?” Hawks asked while coming back from work.

“Stop questioning me.” Endeavor ordered with a tone that would make any other person cry, but Hawks was so used to it, that he didn’t even flinch, especially not after both heroes were coming from having some drinks together.

“At least consider it, if she helps us, we can solve more cases. You’re swamped with work now that you’re the number one hero. We can use a hand if you’re planning to keep that title.”

Endeavor kept silent as he listened and realized he actually needed your help. The next day, you were under his wing again. You and Hawks will work next to him, at least for some time, or that was his initial idea. But who did he want to fool? You were amazing, just as he already knew and as Hawks had said.

Besides, you were so professional and so responsible that in a matter of days, Endeavor was again eating from your hand, totally thankful for having you on his team.

If his temper was already difficult to handle, it got worse every time he caught Hawks flirting with you. The worst part was that he knew it was just the normal thing, you guys had similar ages, you were friends, and you hung up a lot together. It was normal to think that there was some kind of attraction; yet, he couldn’t be more wrong. You had a crush, for sure, you were head over hills for someone, but not for Hawks! For your boss! However, he was out of your reach, there was no way you would tell him or even think about acting on it. No matter how many times you were alone with him in his office, or all the lunches and dinners you had with him and Hawks, not even the numerous nights he offered to drop you home.

Not until that day…

“I’m so happy we can finally have some free time!” Hawks said as he, Endeavor, and you walked towards some hot springs.

“We should get back sooner now that he…”

“No! Please, Endeavor! You promised us we could use the hot springs if we finished on time, and we did it!” You said, causing him to sight, he knew he was already defeated the moment you used those puppy eyes on him.

Some minutes later, you took a different path from them and found your pond. After demanding so much of your body during the mission, it felt amazing just to chill in the water.

From where you were you could hear Hawks and Endeavor’s voices through the wall stone that separated your pond from theirs. You giggled hearing Hawks begging Endeavor to warm just a little bit more the water. The flame hero had no interest in doing what his right hand asked; yet, he preferred warming the water than continuing listening to the young hero asking for the same.

“That’s what I was talking about! Thank you, boss!” Hawks said while he closed his eyes enjoying the warmth. “Hey, hottie! How’s everything over there? Feeling nice already?”

Endeavor groaned hearing that annoying way of calling you. He had already said to Hawks to stop being so disrespectful; however, your answer did not allow the hero to scold Hawks, for your soft and sexy moan just took his breath away.

“It felts great, thanks for warming the water, Endeavor.” You replied, getting no answer from the pro, who was silent not only because of your hot moan but because he was thinking that maybe you didn’t mind Hawks’ comments because something was going on between you two.

Some time passed in which the three of you stayed there enjoying the night, allowing yourselves to forget your worries and to submerge your anxieties in those warm waters. But it was not the only thing you did. While you kept thinking that the man who drove you crazy was just a few steps away taking a bath, the redhead thought the same. It had been the heat coming from his body that had made you moan.

The three of you got so carried away with your thoughts that Endeavor didn't even listen when Hawks apologized and said goodbye. He needed to get some sleep or exhaustion would make him fall asleep in the water.

"Precious, are you coming with me?" The young hero asked causing his boss to feel his blood boil.

However, you rejected his offer, you wanted to enjoy the hot springs for a while longer, or at least that's what you said, what you really wanted was to be alone with your boss, even if you were in different ponds.

Endeavor chose to stay as well, even though he didn't want to accept why he did. For a while there was silence, which wasn't entirely strange, since the ones who used to talk were you and Hawks, Enji was usually silent, and if he spoke, it was to give orders or scold Hawks. Nevertheless, although many people judged him as a cruel man, his two pupils knew that it was not entirely true, he cared for them in his own way. Starting with the missions, no wonder why he was on top of all heroes, for he was capable of controlling any situation without taking his eyes off you, always making sure you and Hawks were safe.

"How's your leg, kid?" He asked you after a while.

"Can't complain, I can move it now."

“Be more careful. If Hawks hadn't helped you, you'd have fractured it."

"Yes, sir" The hero sighed, he didn't like to hear that word so much, especially not coming from you.

He was your superior, that was true, but a little closeness and trust wouldn't hurt either. Had all of his attempts to be a little more approachable not worked even with his closest subordinates?

A little more time passed and the night was getting colder. Not even the heat from the hot springs was enough. Endeavor hadn't noticed the temperature change, as his body always harbored some heat, but for you, it was just impossible to stay there.

The way back to where you were going to sleep passed right by the pool where Hawks and Endeavor had taken a bath, so you would have to pass in front of your boss wearing only a towel. All thanks to Hawks and his stupid pranks, since he had taken your clothes.

When the flame hero heard your footsteps, he looked up. He didn't expect to see you in a towel, however, it was the most sensual image he had seen in his life. Your hair drenched in your bare shoulders, your breasts protruding from that little white, almost transparent towel, and then, your long and naked legs. It was impossible for him not to react to that sight, not to start getting hard. He tried to stop looking at you and focus on something else, like he always did, but this time he took a little more time and you noticed, the leering look from your boss couldn't just be a product of your imagination.

"You're leaving?" he asked without looking at you.

"It's very cold and Hawks took my clothes."

"What? That idiot did what?" As prone to anger as ever, Endeavor forgot why he'd averted his gaze from you and even rose to his feet, forgetting that his erection was already somewhat noticeable.

"It's okay, I'm used to..." You quit talking when you felt a few drops falling on your face. Immediately, you both looked up and noticed that it was starting to rain.

Once you looked at him again, you surely forgot how to talk. If he had been impressed looking at you, your jaw just dropped. The number one hero's body was huge and muscular. There was not a single part of his body that was not trained. It was not just an athletic body, the head of the Todoroki family was a mountain of muscle, and despite the years passing by, his body refused to show any sign of weakness. His body was too tense and fit for age to do its thing; on the contrary, years only made him more attractive, more manly.

If Enji's physique was already breathtaking, the way he looked at that moment left you even more fascinated by him than before. Due to the cold drops of rain and the heat from the hero's body, his skin emanated steam. Also, the striking turquoise hue of his eyes contrasted with the dark red of his hair now that it was wet.

"Come on, I'll walk you." He said, adjusting his towel, since it barely covered what was necessary.

How could you miss such an opportunity? When else would you be alone with that man and in those conditions? No… you had to do something, you had to act. You suspected that you awakened something in your boss because no matter how hard he tried to hide it, there were times when he couldn't and the way he looked at you screamed that he wanted you.

"I don't want to go back yet."

"But you just said you were leaving, and it's raining."

“I don't mind the rain. Can you warm the water a bit more?” You asked approaching him and as you did, the knot in your towel was loosening, already sliding over your breasts, and you barely had time to hold it so as not to be completely naked. "Please, Endeavor." You asked while making sure your generous breasts brushed his body.

Even though the towel didn't fall all the way, Endeavor was able to glimpse at the rounded shape of your breasts and that was enough of a temptation for his head to wander back to how much he wanted to drop his hero role, rip off that towel and make you scream his name.

The redhead noticed how obvious he was making, as well as the boner that could not be hidden in any way. So, clearing his throat, he tried to look at the water and take some distance.

"Fine, I'm going to heat the water." He responded by trying to get closer to the well, but as he brushed past you, you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

The hero's turquoise eyes looked at you, warning you not to play with him, but at the same time, they burned with desire. The fire that torched in him with you so close was far more intense than he could bear.

"Why do you avoid me so much?" You questioned sliding your soft hand over his massive bicep.

"Look, kid..."

Enji was respectful, especially since you were colleagues, but he was definitely not a man to be trifled with. He was not shy, and his short patience had already reached its limit.

"No, you look." Even more determined than him and acting before, you released the knot of the towel and in a second it had already fallen at his feet. "Was this what you wanted to see?"

"You know what you're provoking, right?" He asked gently holding your chin, which allowed him to appreciate how you nodded while licking your lips.

The hero wasted no more time and lowering his gaze devoured your body, he admired every inch of it, every part that he longed to see so many times but had not been able to. It was even more beautiful than he had imagined; besides, your hard nipples screamed how turned on you got by his side. Suddenly, the enormous and rough hands of the hero grabbed your ass and lifted you, now you two were at the same height.

"What about Hawks?" His breathing showed how aroused he was and how difficult it was for him to keep those last few seconds of sanity.

"Hawks?" You asked letting yourself be enveloped by the steam that emanated from your boss's skin, caressing his huge shoulders and discovering how covered they were by freckles and scars. Under other circumstances you would have explained to him that nothing was going on between you and Hawks; however, feeling Endeavor's huge cock throbbing so close to your entrance made it impossible for you to say many words, so you barely managed to shake your head negatively. "We're just friends."

🔥Next chapter🔥

[thatonebirdwrites]

Finally. I've been so ill lately, that it's taken me forever to edit this and get it posted. I feel bad about that. I've spent so many days bedridden. I could barely eat, barely get out of bed, struggling to even clean myself up. It was just awful. The flare-up was horrendous thanks to the disability hearing and some other harmful things that happened all at once. My dissociation has been through the roof.

But I'd like to think my health is stabilizing now? I hope so. Writing is my main coping mechanism.

Excerpt:

When the world shifts on its axis in a metaphorical sense, Lena Luthor prepares for the worst. It’s her coping mechanism. If she is prepared for the worst, then she’s prepared for anything, right?

This logic doesn’t hold up when faced with healing from trauma. How humans process trauma differs from aliens. She can rationally and logically prepare, but her work centers a human mind. Sure, she’s slowly branching L-Corp beyond human-centric models. Hiring several alien scientists and green-lighting their projects has aided in this endeavor. Opening Luthor Hospital to alien medical personnel and patients also aids in better understanding.

She’s talked with Sam, Nia, Kelly, and even J’onn about what to expect. Alex isn’t answering her phone, otherwise, Lena will have talked with her too. It’s J’onn that gives her the biggest insight.

“Think of it this way,” he says. He sits in his red armchair next to a wall of bookcases, the ground floor of the tower he’s been building since he left the DEO. Lena finds the wall fascinating, and wants to dig into the treasure trove of books, but instead, she focuses on J’onn. “Kara’s first thirteen years of life was in a rigid homogeneous culture. One where everyone had a place in society, often pre-determined from birth. She’s learned some flexibility in thinking since coming to Earth, but she’s also fallen into that rigid approach far more times than I can count.” 

Lena sighs. “Like her reaction to the Kryptonite during the worldkiller crisis.” 

“Yes.” J’onn leaned forward, his arms on his knees. “Her trauma spoke louder than her rational-mind, and her laser focus pointed in the wrong direction. That rigidity from her culture flared, and it is only when she realized she was losing you, that she made a decision to do better.”

“Wait, what?” Lena stares at him. “What do you mean losing me?”

J’onn smiles, sadly. “She shared of your elevator conversation. Where you said Supergirl acted like your mother. That you’d never trust her again. She came to me devastated, wondering how to fix it. I believe she still beats herself up over it.” 

“Oh.” In all honesty, Lena hasn’t thought about that conversation in over a year. “I tend toward overly dramatic language,” she says, quietly. “And at the time, I didn’t want to ever trust Supergirl again.” 

“What caused you to trust her again?”

Lena shakes her head. “I don’t know.” 

J’onn’s words haunts her the rest of that day and the next. 

She understands to an extent rigid thinking. She’s seen it in Lex and Lillian, and glimpses of it in her father. She also understands laser-focus on a topic, as she does it herself when chin-deep in a project. 

She wants to be able to view things through Kara’s lens, and she hopes Kara will be able to view things through her lens. It’s a simple metaphor, one to bridge the gap between her human experience and Kara’s alien one.

Likely it’d be easier to discuss this with Kara herself, but that proves daunting. So Lena leaves it for the therapy sessions. Yes, she knows unraveling a lifetime of trauma in one session of therapy is unrealistic. It doesn’t stop her from feeling frustrated that the first session is only fifty-five minutes. She wants to get it all done and over with in one go, but that isn’t how these things work.

She likes to think she’s prepared for the glimpses into Kara’s trauma. The deep grief Kara hides surfaces randomly. Lena has learned to sit with Kara, let her weep or rage as needed, and be present to hold her through it all. It’s not that different from what Kara has done for her.

This still isn’t enough to prepare her for therapy with Kara Zor El Danvers. She doesn’t realize until their first session how intricate and delicate the web is within Kara’s mind.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It's the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I'm so excited to finally share it with you.

----

Chapter 1: Starry Eyes

Soundtrack: "Starry Eyes," Mötley Crüe, 1981 [click here to listen]

It was quiet here in the mountains.

Claire Beauchamp drew in a long, shaky breath of clear, crisp air, and tucked her legs up onto the seat of the Adirondack chair. Watching the sun set over the valley.

Gripping the arm of the chair with shaky hands.

Behind her on the deck, a dozen or so strangers – men and women – shuffled into their own chairs, or to square tables with board games under one arm. Chatter wafted through the door that led into The Ridge’s main building.

The brochure that Joe Abernathy had pressed into her hands, sitting in the back seat of his Jaguar sedan while his wife Gail drove them to the airport, described The Ridge as a residential treatment facility. Her mind was still reeling from the intervention, and that Gail had already packed her a duffel bag stuffed with essentials – it had all been so seamless.

There were many things Claire had wanted to block out in the two years since she’d left Frank and everything had fallen apart. Many things she had shut out from the world around her, paralyzed by pain. But she hadn’t lost all of her faculties quite yet.

Because no matter what The Ridge called itself, no matter how beautiful the landscaping of its grounds, or the plush cushions on the chairs, or the gourmet meals prepared by the in-house chef (herself five years in recovery, or so the brochure proudly proclaimed), there was no hiding what it really was.

Rehab.

Claire was there because she was an addict.

And she would stay there until she had unfucked her life.

“Excuse me?”

She turned to see a tall man, red hair down to his shoulders, colorful tattoos covering every inch of his arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of a well-fitted black t-shirt.

“May I sit next to you?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He flopped down into the chair, crossed his long legs, and lay both palms on the armrests, thumbs tapping a quick beat.

“First day?”

It had been forty six hours since her last fix, and pain sliced her skull. She hadn’t gone this long without in more than a year. “Yes,” she murmured.

Now his fingers joined in the tapping. “Thought so. The new ones always come in the middle of the day – that’s why Group is always in the afternoons. So we can have our individual sessions in the morning, and meet all together in the afternoon. It helps to stick to a schedule.”

She turned in the chair to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her – just gazing straight ahead – but he kept talking. “Anyway, it’ll just be a few minutes until dinner. I hope you like Mexican – they take Taco Tuesdays pretty seriously around here.”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name. I know we introduced ourselves at Group, but it’s all just a blur.”

He turned to face her, and she could hear his smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re Claire – pills addict. That’s what you told us, anyway.”

“It’s true.”

“Well then.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie – I’m an alcoholic. Bourbon, mostly. And a little bit of cocaine, now and again.”

She gripped his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m a sex addict, too,” he added. “John – my therapist here – he said that the more honest I am, the better it will be for me later on.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, not quite sure what else to say.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people by not being honest, and by drinking, and not being honest about my drinking.” He folded his hands in his lap. Lallybroch read one tattoo inching up his left arm, and Ellen read another. “I’m on the tenth step. I’ve learned a lot so far.”

Claire stared down at her own hands – bare, except for her mother’s silver wedding band, which Uncle Lamb had given her when she was twelve. “Well, if we’re going for honesty – I’m a trauma surgeon, at one of the top hospitals in Boston. My asshole ex-husband used to hit me, and I prescribed myself some ludes to deaden everything. I wrote out the scripts to him, then took them to the pharmacy myself.” She pursed her lips, feeling his eyes on her. “I thought I had it under control – I thought that nobody noticed. Until I showed up high one day, and made a stupid mistake, and almost killed a patient.”

He was strangely quiet – and after silently counting to twenty, Claire looked up at him. He was still tapping his fingers against the armrest of the chair, though in a more structured, organized rhythm. Nodding his head. Thinking.

“It was my best friend who got me here,” he said softly. “I’ve known him since we were kids – he even married my sister. He saw what I was doing to myself, how much I was hurting her, and hurting the thing that he and I had worked so hard to build.” A spray of black and white stars flexed above his elbow. “Who got you here?”

“My best friend. We went to medical school together – he was my man of honor at my wedding. He and his wife staged a full-on intervention.”

Jamie’s brows lifted. “Wow.”

She nodded, encouraged. “I’d already been indefinitely suspended without pay from the hospital. I figured, what do I have to lose?”

“Yeah. We have to reach that point.”

A metallic clang pierced the air – and Claire jumped.

Jamie smiled. “That’s the literal dinner bell. Like I said, I hope you like tacos.”

Claire slid forward in the chair and stood, stretching. “I could eat anything right about now. I’m not too picky.”

Now Jamie stood – and smiled down at her. “I’m helping get everyone seated tonight – we all pick up chores around here. See you in there?”

She smiled back. “Yeah. And thanks for talking to me.”

“No sweat.” Quickly he stepped away from her and across the deck toward the door back inside.

“Hey.”

Claire turned to see a woman – young, dark-haired, size zero – remove her enormous sunglasses.

“Yes?”

“I can’t believe you were talking to him!” she exclaimed.

Claire shoved her hands into her pockets. “What do you mean?”

The woman shook her head. “Do you even know who he is?”

“He introduced himself. Seemed nice enough. Why?”

The woman huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “That’s Jamie Fraser. You know – the singer and lead guitarist in Print?”

“Print?” Claire searched her scattered memory. “Isn’t that some hard rock band?”

“Not just some band – the biggest band in the world for at least five years now. Like, dozens of hits, videos on MTV 24/7, big stadium tours, and armloads of awards. I’ve been trying to get his attention since I got here! And he just walked right up to you!”

It had been a long day. Claire was hungry, and tired, and wanted nothing more than an aspirin and a pillow – maybe a taco first. Definitely not any more time with this girl.

“Well, thanks for the info – ”

“Geneva,” the woman explained. “I’m an alcoholic. You?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Claire made a beeline for the door.

[bts-trash-blog]

Best Of Us

Chapter 7: Risk

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

Chapter edited

PREV._.NEXT 

The feeling of warmth spread across your cheek, it had your eyes blinking open bright sharp almost cat like, brown eyes staring back at you.The soft beeping of your phone had you whining as the person in front of you, Bambam lets out a chuckle as you slowly move from the pile of blankets you were under. The smell, the sticky sweet smell of the two of you sticking to you like glue, your hand reaches over to your phone. Seeing a light up message, from Jin saying you didn’t have to come in for the meetings after all, and then an email from Yoongi.Eye tightly shutting, reading for the Sorry but we’ve decided to let you go.. Email especially after what you had said right before you left. You wouldn’t be surprised at all for the termination.

Y/n,

Due to the events that occurred last night I am giving you the rest of the week off, though you will still need to do work from your laptop or the tablet we have given you. My single request is that you give me your address so I can send you physical copies of paperwork through Jin.

I would also like to invite you to an outing with Hoseok, Namjoon and myself, and talk through what has happened. I do not want you to feel pressured into anything so for the next week at five my mates and I will be at the cafe across the street from our building we will stay until eight each day.

I would also like to apologize for using my Alpha authority over you. I am never one to do that unless necessary and in that situation it was clearly not, I feel horrible about it but I do know that no apology will ever heal that wound. Only actions. And from this day on I will try to prove to you that I am not like that, I am not that type of Alpha. I am an Alpha your father will approve of. Hoseok is an Alpha your father will approve of. We are a pack your father will approve of, and even if he doesn't right away we will show him and your mother time and time again that we are worthy of your love. That our love is enough for their little girl, if you will have it of course. And if you don't want it, then we will let you go. Y/n this is up to you, and you alone. Just know how sorry I am that I even used that tone on you. I will never do it again.

Sincerely,

Min Yoongi

You felt your hand shake as you dropped your phone in shock onto your lap as you let out a whine, Bambam letting out his own as his nose nudged under your jaw as his arms wrapped their way around your waist. Your hands fall onto his arms as you feel his nose nudge against your scent gland, making your curl into him as he lays you down back into the nest. The pillows stacked along the wall and the ends of the bed moved slightly. The scent of the two of you mixing as you nose nudged against his scent gland. Purrs passing your guys lips as you sniffle, your fingers gripping at his bare shoulders, his skin warm under the palm of your hands. His nose rubbing against your skin trying to calm you down as you took deep breaths of his oranges and cream smell had your calming as you took a deep breath pulling from him.

“What up Y/n?”

“Just read.” He nods, taking your phone as you kneaded the bed below you, trying to see if you could make it softer, more welcoming. Hearing him sigh, you look to see the boy's eyes lingering at you as he gives you a tight lipped smile. “What do I do?”

“What do you want to do?” Your body froze as you sat in the middle of your bed, Bambam moving to rest his leg in your lap as your hands fell onto his thigh. Your fingers rubbing into the muscle uncousionaly as you take a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” Your voice was shaky as Bambam typed on your phone and handed it back, seeing he had emailed Yoongi back.

Mr.Min,

My address is (I really don't know what to name this) apartment 3a, and to give you an honest answer to the rest is a simple I don’t know.

Sincerely,

Y/LN Y/n

“That easy huh?” You wonder making him smile and nod as he sat up and grabbed his phone, a frown falling on his face making you move wrap your arm around his leg resting your cheek on his knees. “What wrong Bam?”

“Jackson hasn’t messaged me at all..I..I miss him.” His pout dropped to a full grown as you watched his lip quiver, his eyes building with tears as you moved to nuzzle yourself on top of him, his arms wrapping around your back as he let out a whimper. “It's like he doesn’t want me anymore. I know I'm not a conventual omega, you know? I'm tall and lanky and I’m a stubborn brat, but he said he was okay with all of that. He said he liked my body, and he was okay that I’m taller than him and that I’m not afraid to speak my mind..but what if he’s not. What if he found a shorter, curvier omega? Someone more obitident and he just doesn't know how to tell me.” His words had you moving closer, knowing he had no concern about your weight completely on him, he needed to compression as you nuzzled yourself deeper into his skin.

“Bam..”

“He didn’t even spend my heat with me, he hasn't even gotten me a courting gift.” His voice was full of pain as he held you close, letting a sob pass his lips as you let out a growl. Jackson had chased after your best friend for five month prior to Bambam caving and agreeing to be in a courting relationship with one of the richest families' sons. Their only son.  When the news broke, Bambam had been assigned bodyguards and a driver. Even when he was alone he was never really alone, and the stress of it all he just wanted to cuddle, scent with Jackson. Yet you would wake up to a facetime of a tired looking Bambam wrapped up in Jackson's sheets, alone, your mutual friends Lisa and her mate Jennie growling at the treatment Bambam was going through. Yet Bambam couldn’t seem to grow the courage to end the relationship. The pull to great between the two.

“Break up with him.”

“I can’t, I love him and I feel like its m-”

“Bam, if you leave him and he doesn’t try to fight it then he isn’t worth your fight. If he wants you then he needs to prove it. Also how he treats you, how any Alpha in this world treats you is not your fault. It's their own head being shoved far up their ass that they can’t see the world around them, and how it doesn't revolve around them. Bam. Text him, tell him you think the two of you need the end thing cause clearly he doesn’t have time for a relationship. Then me and you are gonna shove our faces while he freaks out.”

“But that's so curle.” “So is him, your supposed boyfriend and courting Alpha, not even texting you two words when he gets up, or even just letting you sit with him during his lunches in his office in silence. He hands you a scented hoodie for the week then you rarely see him afterwards. It's his turn to see how it feels.”

“I don’t want to lose him.” “Then don’t take my advice, okay? I'm not gonna force you but I'm gonna be here for you, nesting and feeding you.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.” He sighs pulling away from you, grabbing his phone, your eyes peering over watching him write out a text to Jackson. I’m sorry to bother you during work, I know you hate that, but I really think we should break up. You clearly don’t have the time for a courting relationship, and I can’t handle you being so cold to me. Again I'm sorry for bothering you. But I think this is for the best. It was scent with tear filled eyes as your arms stayed wrapped around his neck, the delivery staying, like it was a tattoo on his phone. It had him scoffing as he dropped his phone and turned into your chest.

“I hate Alphas.”

“Me too.”

“Lets mate so no Alpha will ever fuck with us again.” His words had you snorting as he let out a pain filled giggle against your chest as you ran your hand through his hair, his eyes closing rightly as your mother knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you, but Y/n don’t you have work sweetheart.” Her tone was sweet as she lingers at the open door, her eyes falling on the still crying Bambam as you gave her a small smile.

“No, I was given the day off.”

“Oh well, breakfast for the two fo you is in the microwave.” Nodding she gives a small wave in goodbye and shuts your door. The ding of a phone had babam tenseing, but he relaxed, though with a deafeed look when he saw his message was still on delivered. While your phone was showing a new message from Jin. Saying what time he was going to arrive to extache paper work with you.

“Food then back to sleep?”

“Yes.”

_____________________________

Waking up to a pounding on your door, had your eyes snapping open, Bam had taken the spot closest to the wall, under a large pile of blankets. A sweater of yours draping over his skin, lips parted eyes still closed dead asleep. Yet the pounding on your front door awoke you. Slowly moving out of bed you see his phone had twenty missed calls, and too many messages for Jackson not wanting the boy in your bed. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of your room and down the hall to your front door unlocking the deadbolt but leaving the chain hooked. As you open the door, there you see a panting Jackson, his eyes pitch black as he looks at you with a pained expression. His alpha scent was sour, thick, the minty freshness of his scent drowned out by his distress. His pain.

“Please.” He whimpers, his head bowing, neck on show as you shut the door slightly undoing the chain lock and opening the door more. His body stays put as he takes a deep breath in, whining as he drops to his knees. “Kunpimook, please.” Turning your head you see a shuffling Bambam, his eyes red puffy as you step back, Jacksons body dropping to a full bow. Forehead touching the ground as you see Bambam tilt his head, looking to you as you nod for him to follow.  His body slowly drops to the ground pushing Jacksons shoulders back making Jackson whine, his eyes looking at the hand that was placed on his shoulder. “Omega mine.” Jackson mumbles, your body slowly moving back, trying to give the two space but also needing to make sure Bambam was safe. You watch Bambam tilt his head  as Jackson mimicked him, his action following the younger as Bambam gave what you assumed was a tight lipped smile as you watch Jacksons shoulders drop. Head falling forward pressing against Bambam chest as Jackson let out a purr.  “Home.”

“He isn’t talking normally.” Bambam whispers to you, looking at you as you giggle as you move slowly as Jackson wraps his arms around Bambam and growles at you making the omegas jaw go slack as you place your hand over your mouth.

“Just go with it, my mom called it the puppy stage.” your words had Bambam nodding as he looks at you with a frown. “Bam if you want him, go with him. “ He gives you a smile as he pulls from Jackson, who whines as he watches Bambam stan following the Omegas movements as he moves and nuzzles his face into Bambams neck.

“I think you should go. Listen to what they have to say.” He mumbles whe Jackson suddenly lifts the boy in his arms making , Bambam sequel as you giggle. Jackson is moving out of your apartment. “My stuff!”

“Home. Omega home.”

“I’ll bring it to you later.” You call out watching men in suits fall in toe behind the pair as you shake your head and shut your apartment door. A deep breath in.

Should you give them a chance? You wondered, moving to your living room couch, fixing the messy bun your hair was in. Eyes blinking slowly as you take a deep breath in, what bad could come from it?

“A lot.” You state out loud shaking your head as you let out a deep sigh, wrapping yourself into your fathers blanket that your mother kept in the living room. His scent was long gone, yet the memories of him wrapped in the blanket had your eyes water as you nuzzled yourself into the grey fabric. How you longed for the day you could speak to him, he’d know what to do.

“Dad you don't get it!” Your voice echoes through the halls of your home, his body trailing after you as you storm your way into your bedroom, his foot stopping your bedroom door slamming. His brown eyes shone as he looked at you. “Alphas don't understand!”

“Then explain it to me kiddo, please. Why aren’t you eating? Why are you changing your wardrobe? Tell me what that has to do with being an Omega.” His words were full of begging. Pleading as you whine leaving your door, gathering the blankets from your bedroom ground, rushing to your bed as you begin to move around the mattress. “Kid, come on I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m just doing what any Omega would if no Alpha looked at them Dad, that's all. A diet doesn’t hu-”

“You haven’t eaten in over a week, a weak young lady. I don't want to force my hand and use the Alpha tone on you just so you’d actually eat. Baby I hate seeing you like this.” His words softened as he trailed into your room.

“Just go away dad.” He went silent, then you looked up to see he was gone. Rolling your eyes, you start rearranging  the pillows around your bed, when suddenly your dad's scent wraps around you as he enters your nest. Your eyes widening as you growl to he wraps you in his favorite grey blanket. A bowl of rice and chicken in hand as he shakes his head.

“I’ll never go away, but nice try. Now eat something pup.”

You missed those days, the days he showed up in your bedroom food in hand, blanket in the other making sure you ate. Then you felt comfortable enough during your school days to eat.You missed the days, where you fingers would glide along the keys of a piano, his laughter joining as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You missed the look in in your mothers eyes when she looked at him, or how he always found her in a room no matter how big, how crowded. You missed their joint laughter as they teased you on your birthdays, or how much your father loved the two of you. Without him it was quiet walls, and lonely nights. It scared you.

It scared you to even think about letting someone love you the way your father did, letting someone see you the way he saw your mother. It terrified you, cause you saw how quickly people leave, they disappear so quickly without a trace, well that's a lie, the only trace is pain. The empty feeling craves in your chest, the sadness that elopes every memory with them. You never knew that the taste of chicken and rice could make you cry, or the smell of lily flowers mixed with an unforgettable spicy could make your chest hurt. How on random days, your body felt as you were in the car again, the car became so scary to you. You never knew you couldn’t listen to a piano without your body shaking, never could understand why music became so sour for you. You're scared to show them why you flinch away from loud noise, all because the flash of a blaring horn rushes through you. How could you put them through that? Dealing with the night terrors and panic attacks on your bad days. You wish you could. You wish you could love them without the fear of losing them.

But isn’t that the part of it all? The chance of losing it all for just one moment of happiness. So, take the risk or don’t.

Tag list:

@kth-kpoplover @alex4243 @malyxsoulpersonal @purelyecstacy @ryuyalana  @nlost21 @xanny91 @barbyisafangirl @munchyn @lashaysaurusrex  @scentedsope @purpleheartsfortae @btsforlif @barbikatherine @mauranglc @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal  @keepyourdreamsalive @ellethemoon​ @thickemadame  @chimchimooo73 @thickemadame​ @lazykingcomputer @channiespup @yoongitoo @missmoxxiesworld  @4evahevah @schmetterlingsbluetentee @moonchilreneverywhere  @yeojunswhore @shereen1603 @lovelysky15 @tinieretro @mininimmy @caratarmy131

 @milopenne  @fauxthephoenix @cuteipat  @lustremyg 

[nightfall-kachiniko]

How about mikasa with a Pregnant s/o? I hope you get better btw!

Ah thank you anon! I hope I do aswell! And I love mother kasa concept! :D

『Mikasa with a pregnant s/o』

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[ MAJOR! AOT SPOILERS UP AHEAD! ]

THIS CONTIANS MAJOR SPOILERS REGARDING TO 139 AND CHAPTER 138

- after you guys left the survey corps,she practically BEGGED you both to be parents. And all thought you wanted to, you wanted to spend some years alone with her.

- Ever since Eren passed away, your girlfriend never smiled the way she used to. But that all changed when you told her you were pregnant with a baby girl. This woman bursted into tears smiling a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. She picked you up and spun you around the room kissing you as you to began to cry tears of joy.

- You told her you were pregnant with a small version of her scarf, hinting at it. And as soon as she got it, she looked at you shocked, making sure you were serious, “d-darling are you serious..?” She said a small smile on her face. She looked at the small scarf and the baby clothes that laid in the box that you gave her as a gift, twirling around the outfit examining it.

-you gave her a soft nodd as you wiped away a tear, “Your going to be a mommy” you said with a smile. She put down the baby clothes and looked at you, still in shock. “Your not joking R-right!?” She said a bit more happier. “No I’m serious!” You said, beaming with a smile.

-she scoffed a bit as tears began falling down her face. Mikasa smiled as she picked you up, twirling you around, while crying tears of pure happily ness and joy. “T-this is all I’ve ever wanted” She said, kissing you while wiping away the both of yours tears.

- Throughout your whole pregnancy, all she would do would show you support in every way possible. She may be a bit over baring at time but this woman just wants to insure that your safe and well token care of. If you try to even pick up something, she’s scolding you, saying its dangerous and what if you fall or trip? All you’ll hear is, “y/n! Be careful dear! Let me take care of that.”

-Oh you best believe she gives you baths. One wrong move and you could get hurt, to her at least. Mommas wants to take care of youuuu ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა! Plus, if you think she’s overprotective then, SHEESH BUDDY YOUR IN FOR A RIDE DURING AND AFTER PREGNANCY.

- This woman goes out her way to make sure you and the baby are safe. She doesn’t like you going out into town since a ton of people would crowd there and god for bid if someone knocks into you.. Let’s just say they are gonna get beat to the ground.

- For names, i think she’d like something unique, mystical even. I think she’d like something like a word that means a unique feeling, like the word Heriath; Homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was. That’s my OC’S kid with her’s name anyways lol. Lacuna, Moira, jouska and others i think she’d like! You suggested if it was a boy that you wouldn’t mind naming the baby after Eren. She turned to you and smiled saying that she loved the idea of that, but, she couldn’t call him that without bursting into tears. You understood completely and was accepting of that aswell : D

— AND BOY OH BOY WHEN YOU WERE IN LABOR- Mikasa tried her best to stay calm. You both decided earlier on to have an at home birth with (just in case) a widwife to make sure you were okay. She held your hand and hugged you as you gasped for air, pushing as hard as you could. Mika would tell you things like “It’s okay baby.. your doing such a good job..” hike holding your hand, reassuring that you would be okay.

- When the baby came out, all you both could do was cry. I’d say if its a girl, she’d look more like mikasa with black hair and her Asian eye shape with your eye color. But if it was a boy, they’d look more like you with mikasa’s eye shape and mouth shape.

- She knows how sentimental of a moment you both as parents were experiencing, so she made sure you as the one who gave birth should hold the baby first. She kissed your head as you held the baby, caressing your hair.

- when mikasa held the baby, the first thing she did was wrap the baby in her red scarf. After Eren died, she turned the meaning of the scarf around. Eren showed her how to live, so she made a promise to show you how to live. And now that she has a baby, another piece of family, she vowed over her life to keep the both of you safe and sound.

- Her first words to your both’s baby was “I will always protect you, I promise you, over my life” She was so happy to be a mother. After all the chaos, she was so happy to finally live peacefully with the person who she loves the most.

- She has SO MANY DAMN RULES FOR WHEN ANNIE AND ARMIN COME OVER LMAO- No holding the baby standing up. All sharp objects aren’t allowed on you when touching the baby. No turning into a titan or she’ll cut off your face (these mainly apply to Annie LMAO) But after a while she chilled down. Annie was allowed to hold the baby ofc ofc.... Under MIKASA’S supervision ÙnÚ.

— the day your baby first walked, mikasa Litteraly cried at how big they had gotten and you had to calm her down like “Mika! Chill they aren’t even 1 yet and your already acting like they are going off to join the military!”

- Oh and speaking of military, your baby’s not going into the military- Hell n o. Momma mika would lose her shit even at the thought of her baby going out into gunfire. So if you wanted a military baby, sorry its not happening with her kid.

- The baby’s first words were “Muma” which was when they were referring to you. Everything this child does makes her so emotional. Litteraly even if the baby just picks up a spoon she’s almost in tears. She a proud momma dont let her down >:3

- I think our both’s baby would call her a unique version of mom. Like they would call Mika “Ummie” or “ummuma” But sometimes they’d just call her “mommy” so your momma and she’s ummie and mommy. (Lmao you call mikasa mommy too dont lie ;)

-OMI- YOUR KID AND ANNIE AND ARMINS KID ARE LIKE BEST FRIENDS. Your baby loves when they come over so they can see armin and Annie’s kid :D! AND OML- YOUR BABY LIKE LOVES ANNIE- She calls her “auntie awnnie” and always likes pulling at her bun while mikasa just stands and watches from the kitchen, eyeing annie down making sure she ant gonna touch her bby 😤

- Your child LOVESSSS Annie’s titan roar and everytime she comes over, they beg for annie to turn into a titan and do the roar. All you’ll hear is, “awuntiie awmmie! Titan! Titan!! 🥺” While annie rolls her eye with a small “fine” As she goes outside and transforms into her titan, roaring while your chid giggles. MIKASA HATES IT SO DAMN MUCH- SHE’LL ALWAYS SAY “You better be careful or I’ll kill you”

- of course, over the years Mikasa lightened up to annie and they are now best friends, but she cant help it... Over protective strong momma. but she wont allow armin to do it since his titans to big and dangerous ad trust me armin completely understands.

- Overall, she’s such a good momma. Always caring for you and her baby, making sure you both are safe and okay. She wouldn’t ever wish for a different life when she’s with you, and the sweet little one you two made <3

BRO THIS WAS SO LONG TO WRITE -

[morgansmoreid]

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Six

Chapter Name: "Take My Mind off All the Bad"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Slightly Detailed Smut, Implied Drug Usage, Talks of Child Molestation (very brief/Derek's past)

Smut Warnings: Cunnilingus, Praising, Overstimulation, Begging, Orgasm Delay, Penetrative Sex, Daddy kink (slight), Unprotected sex, Handjob

Bold Italic stands for the talking between phone calls

---

"I don't push people away," Y/n mumbled as she pulled into the hotel parking lot.

She grabbed her jacket from the passenger side and headed to her room, ignoring the kind worker who said hello to her.

Y/n stepped off the elevator and pulled her key out of her back pocket, the 'ding' filling the hallway silence at that moment.

Closing the door quietly, Y/n walked towards the small light from the lamp on the left side. As she whipped her head around the corner, she was met Derek's bright smile.

"Hey," He nodded, muting the bad hotel show he was watching.

"Hi, baby," She slipped off her blazer and threw it onto a nearby chair with her jacket.

Walking to the bathroom, Y/n turned on the shower and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks started to puff.

So many tears spread for the ones who don't care.

Stripping the rest of her clothes, Y/n stepped into the shower, the hot water flowing over her body. She just stood there for a while, the water the only thing filling the silence in the bathroom. The time moved slowly, leaving Y/n trapped in her thoughts.

"Ms, Feilds, please take off the sunglasses," The math sub called Y/n during the work period.

Y/n scoffed and slouched down as her heavy eyelids began to betray her.

"The sunglasses," The sub asked again, this time more demanding.

Before Y/n could say anything, Arianna turned around and grabbed them off Y/n's face.

"Fuck!" Y/n winced at the added sunlight.

The teacher took one look at Y/n's dilated pupils and took her into the hall.

The knock at the door pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

"Bae?" Derek called out, the shower curtain blocking his concerned expression from Y/n's eyes.

"Hm?" Y/n hummed, poking her head out of the shower, not leaving much to the eye.

"You ok?" Derek leaned in.

Y/n shook her head in reassurance, a chill filling her body as Derek's thumb swiped across her cheek.

"So why are you crying?" He pulled back.

Y/n just stares at him.

"You don't see them, you won't get it."

"You might leave, I don't want you to."

"I hold up my past with strong walls, it only takes one hit though. One hit and it's all gone."

"I have habits that are calling my name and yet you are the only thing that keeps me from giving in."

That's what Y/n wants to say. She wants Derek to know, she wants him to listen.

"Sad day, that's all. Pass me that towel?" She changes the subject instead.

He looks back and passes her the towel hanging off the bathroom door. She wraps it around herself and steps out, turning off the shower from the outside. She walks out of the bathroom, Derek following behind as she pulls out a shirt and some underwear from her go-bag. She throws the towel to the bed, her body now exposed to Derek. He watches as she slips on the black underwear and one of his oversized graphic tees before throwing the towel over to the same chair her jackets were in.

Derek walks over to the bed, sitting in the same spot he was in before. Eyes follow down Y/n's body, almost habitual, a small grin appearing on his face at his marks that were starting to clear up from a few nights before. Y/n walks toward the bed and sits next to him, the hotel mattress providing little to no comfort at all.

"Are you ok?" She asks as she lays her head on his shoulder. It's a small gesture, but that's all Y/n wants and needs.

"Just tired, been a long day." Derek kisses the top of her forehead.

"You got that right," Y/n laughs.

It's a genuine laugh, a happy one.

Wrapping an arm around her torso, Derek pulls Y/n as close as he could. She's hiding something. Derek knows what it feels like to go through the lengths of keeping a secret. He was willing to go to jail for a murder he didn't commit if it meant no one knows what Carl Buford did to him. If it meant he didn't have to relive those memories once more.

Except even with the team by his side, Derek felt alone.

And when the memories resurface, when Derek can feel Carl's touch, he feels alone. Y/n pulls him out of that but he still feels alone. He doesn't want her to feel that.

It sucks to feel that.

"I love you," He mumbled into a comfortable silence.

Y/n looked up, her head almost hitting his chin, and just smiled.

"I love you too," She kissed his lips.

His soft, warm, comfortable lips.

Neither one could tell you what happened. Derek pulled Y/n in, leaving her straddled on his lap. Their kiss grew hotter as Y/n pulled herself closer to Derek, his forming boner giving her the friction her body desired. Hands gripped her sides as they moved down to her ass, a small moan leaving her mouth into his.

Derek's hands moved up Y/n's bare back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Derek pulled the tee off of Y/n, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her skin was warm against his chest. His lips kissed and marked down her body before coming back up to hers.

"I love you," He said one more time.

"I love you."

Wrapping one arm across her back, Derek repositioned them both as a grin appeared on his face at the sight of his girlfriend under him.

Legs wrap around his waist as Derek marks Y/n's neck. He taps the side of her thigh, signaling for her to unravel her legs. As they fall to the side, Derek resumes his travel down her body again, this time taking the black underwear with him.

His arms wrap around her thighs as he pulls her all the way to the edge, eyes searching her for consent to continue.

She nods but it's not enough for Derek. He raises an eyebrow at her, getting an eye-roll in return.

"Tell me what you want." He mumbled.

"You." Y/n bluntly stated, staring him down.

"Can't hear you," He taunted, his fingers moving closer to Y/n's wet arousal.

"Please daddy," The words rolled of Y/n's tongue.

That was all it took for Derek. His lips attached her clit, a loud moan coming from Y/n in response. Her hands grabbed onto the bedsheets, squeezing them hard as Derek quickly quickened his pace.

To silence her moans, Y/n brought her hand to her mouth, the method only muffling the sounds to the bare minimum. Frowning at her actions, Derek added two fingers into her slit and pulled her hand down, her moan like a medley in his ears.

Small curses and names left Y/n's mouth as her orgasm started to build up.

"Derek..." She cried, her muscles tensing.

Instead of responding, Derek's tongue quickened its pace as his fingers curled inside of her again and again.

Throwing her head back, Y/n felt her composure wearing off as she called Derek's name one more time, only it came out in a breath, relieving how close to her climax she truly was.

As his fingers continued to thrust inside her, Derek pulled away and smirked at the begging Y/n.

"Go ahead," He growled in her ear.

He moved up to her face as his thumb came into contact with clit, throwing Y/n completely off the edge. With their chest's now in complete contact, Y/n's nails slid down Derek's back as she came down from her high.

Removing his hand, Derek ran his other one against Y/n's face, leaving small kisses as her breathing returned to a normal pace. His other thumb swiped across the tip of his tongue, Y/n's sweet arousal to taste.

He loved every part of Y/n. Take one look at them together and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Both of them wanted more.

Both of them craved more.

Turning her head to look at him, Y/n pressed her lips against Derek's, the taste savoring and sweet. His own muscles relaxed to the calm touch of her nail against his shoulder and her body goes soft at his hand to the side of her leg.

It's just the two of them in this moment-and they know it.

The kiss deepens fast as both tounges fighting for dominance. Y/n gives in and pulls the drawstrings of Derek's grey sweatpants, losing them out of the small knot they were in. Derek's figure points out just from under the band, a low grunt comes out as Y/n palms him.

His eyes meet hers, glassy and lust-filled as she lets at a patronizing smile. Pulling the sweats down, Y/n's hands rub on Derek, the action causing him to grip the sheets above her head with no mercy.

"Keep doing that and you'll ruin the fun," He said, his tone assertive and demanding.

"Like this?" Y/n fastened her pace as she batted faux innocence to Derek.

Instead of giving her a reaction, Derek used his hand to spread Y/n's leg farther away from his. Two steps ahead of him, Y/n made his job easier and braced herself for what was next.

"Ready?" Derek lined himself up with Y/n. He was aware of his size, he was aware of what he could do to Y/n.

And he loved it.

Slowly thrusting into her, Derek gave her a second to adjust before lacing his fingers with hers. He loved when it was just them. He loved when she was all his, all for him. He loved the way her eyes rolled back as his thrusts got harder. He loved the way his name rang out her mouth in pleasure.

He loved everything when it came to Y/n.

Especially her nails dragging down her back.

Y/n's fingers tightened around Derek's as she felt her second orgasm coming. Her body was sore and tired from the first time and she was getting closer and closer.

"You can do it," Derek praised in her ear.

"Come on do it for daddy," He kissed her lips, the words enough to send her past her limit.

Walls clench around Derek as her free hand drags down his back, Y/n's leg shaking violently as a result. His body fully covers her second later, one more thrust ending both of them.

It's like home to both of them. Their bare skins in contact with each other and only each other, the words that he mumbles in her ear, each syllable spent expressing his love for her.

They take away each other's bad.

Taking all the warmth with him, Derek head to the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth.

"A shower will do us both good," He presses the fabric onto Y/n's body.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: none

> next chapter

The coffee cup was laying neatly on his desk by the computer screen with surgeon-like precision. After years and years of studying, being an intern, and serving crazy, late or early rotas, Sebastian had got used to being the resident doctor. His routine, although unpredictable, had some sort of shape and one of the things he enjoyed doing was having his cup of coffee while looking at his first patient’s record before he could come in. Of course, like in every single job, there were unpredictable factors and for him it always seemed to be lack of test results in his record files.

    - Hey ... - he called out for one of the nurses who was passing by. She stopped by his door, poking her head in. - Where are the blood culture results from this patient?

    - The laboratory sent the samples back up. You’ll have to order a blood culture again.

    - Fucking hell ... - he mumbled to himself, throwing the file onto the table.

Of course, Sebastian never got to fully take his coffee. If he did, it normally meant she was on holiday. The biggest unpredictability of the job wasn’t the patients or the constant urgencies, no, the biggest unpredictability in his job was a woman. Not just every woman, no, a biomedical scientist in the microbiology department which always seemed to deny his tests or contest every medical opinion he had. 

He sighed as he pressed the lift’s button to the laboratory floor. There was always an unseen line between the doctors, nurses and assistants on the upper floors and the laboratory staff on the lower floor. Doctors barely showed up in the laboratory yet again not all doctors had a biomedical scientist after them. Actually, no other doctor had a war with a biomedical scientist, just him. Lucky him.

   - Stan, put a lab coat on. - speaking of the devil. - Did they not tech you health and safety in med school?

   - It’s Dr. Stan. - he grudgingly grabbed the lab coat she has extended over to him, stopping him from getting any further into her department. She was right about that, but he wasn’t gonna give her that. - It’s 8 AM, are you already hiding from your responsibilities?

    - Where are my blood culture results, Y/N? I have a patient coming in 50 minutes and I can’t tell them what’s wrong with them. 

    - That’s not my problem. - she turned around but he followed her still. - Will you please leave? I have work to do.

    - Oh really? Considering you haven’t given me the results, I’d think you just slack off the whole day here. - he sighed. - C’mon, Y/N. 

   - I’m sorry, Dr. Stan but maybe you should instruct your nurses in what correct blood culture bottle to send the blood samples. If you suspected anaerobic bacteremia why did you sent it in an aerobic bottle? They’re dead, I cannot plate dead bacteria. Now if you please, I have work to do. 

   - Did they or did you just lose the sample again?

   - Unlike you, Dr. Stan I do my job correctly. Now if you don’t mind, I have requests from Doctors who know what they’re doing. 

Sebastian grumbled, taking the lab coat on tossing it onto the hook. Y/N grinned to herself as she returned to her microscope, mentally celebrating the fact she had once again managed to upset Dr. Stan. It wasn’t that he was a bad doctor, he wasn’t, he was just too lenient with his staff while Y/N was razor sharp focused on getting work done so whenever a sample came in bad state, unlike other department senior scientists, she’d just deny them and go do tests on good samples. That particular mindset resonated with her superiors but Dr. Stan enjoyed coming downstairs to give her an earful as if she could do something. Well, she could do something, she could go upstairs and train the staff herself but she wasn’t paid for that and it seriously was not her job to do so. 

     - Dr. Stan, again? - Miriam, one of the scientists who had started around the same time as her and had experienced as many of their fights as there had been, sat by her side. - You two seriously need to fuck.

     - Miriam! - she widened her eyes, looking around to see if someone had heard them. - Why don’t you say it louder? 

    - Listen when me and cute butt from haematology we’re feuding, we fucked it out during the Christmas party and look at us now ... - she smirked taking the necklace with her engagement ring from under her laboratory coat. - Besides, he is a doctor. 

    - He’s too old. - she returned to inspecting the Gram slide under her microscope, but Miriam had other plans, turning off the light in her microscope. 

    - He’s in his 30s. That’s a baby in doctor years besides you two are making everyone miserable. 

    - I will make you miserable if you don’t start analysing the new samples. 

Telling a patient he needed to give blood samples again sounded easy enough. After all, Sebastian had had a whole communication module during med school and almost ten years worth of experience yet nothing compared to listening to a patient yell at him before he even had lunch. Surely with the amount of times, Y/N had done this to him he would be used to it now but not when all he’d have was coffee. With a scowl on his face, he walked into the cafeteria. Damned Y/N, damned Y/N and her petty fighting. 

    - Seb! - Dr. Mackie set his tray on his table. They’d done their residency together and he had even been present when he and Y/N had their first encounter and fight. - Word is you’ve already had your first fight with Y/N. What’d you do now?

    - I didn’t do anything. Blood came in the wrong bottle and she didn’t even try doing the test. 

    - You’re whining, Stan. 

    - Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I have this patient, keeps complaining that he has an infection but there’s no markers. 

    - Hey man, I specialised in tropical diseases. Probability is, it’s not that. Why don’t you ask Y/N? She’s a microbiologist and you love to go over to see her.

    - Really, Mackie? 

    - You can ask someone else but you and Y/N like each other so much. Maybe she’ll give you a kiss if you get it right.

     - Thanks for nothing, Mackie.

     - Hey, maybe if you and her start dating, the upstairs and the downstairs people will finally have a peace alliance. 

Back to the microbiology laboratory it was. He couldn’t even remember what the two of them had started bickering about, but he knew it was around the time she had first started at the hospital. It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart, god no, Sebastian knew she was smart and completely capable and probably the reason why she had become a senior scientist quite fast; however, she was extremely argumentative and whenever she had to assist in one of his cases, they always ended up arguing. To be honest, she did look quite adorable whenever she was fuming at him, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pointing aggressively at the results.

   - STAN! LAB COAT! - he was taken from his thought by the same woman throwing a laboratory coat on him. - I will report you to the board if you keep walking into my lab without a lab coat on.  

   - I need your help.

   - Okay. - she opened one of the various drawers in the laboratory, taking three bottles and placing it on the table in front of her. - It’s very simple. Yellow for paediatric, red for anaerobic and green for aerobic. Paediatric means child, anaerobic means no air, and aerobic means air. 

   - Seriously, Y/N? I know what it means.

   - Do you? - she cocked an eyebrow at him. - Don’t worry, we got the samples right these time. I have someone working overnight so you’ll have your precious results. Besides, it is probably negative. Looking at the sheet doesn’t really scream bacteremia. It might just be a localised infection which has the potential to become bacteremia. Unless it’s an AMR case, it’s probably no fuss. 

    - Great. It’s not that I need help with though.

    - Can’t you do your own job, Dr. Stan? 

    - 40 year old male, complaining of infection like symptoms but no markers. - he handed her the file which she skimmed through.

    - Did you check for CRP? White blood cell count?

    - White blood cell count is slightly high but not in a way which would really indicate an infection. Know of anything like that?

    - I can run some tests but I don’t really know. - she shrugged. - Have you asked Dr. Mackie? Patient been in any tropical locations?

    - He told me to ask you. 

    - Aw so even he knows that you suck at being a doctor? 

    - You know what, Y/N? You would be cute if you weren’t so argumentative. 

    - Don’t try to butter me up, Dr. Stan. I will ask around my colleagues, see if anyone has any idea before dinner time and then I’ll let you know.

    - Are you asking me for dinner?

    - Yes, because having dinner in the green light cafetaria with you is totally my idea of romance. I mean, why  not take me here now in this table?

    - Now, Miss Y/L/N, that’s is against health and safety protocols. You should know. 

    - Do they not teach you sarcasm in med school?

    - We’ll talk about it during our dinner date.

    - It is not a dinner date, I’m just giving you data.

    - It’s a date. I’m telling everyone.

    - Don’t you dare!

[ofdemonsandangels]

Im sorry for my random rant but aaaaaa I just can't get over how dirty Casca was treateddddd

She was done decently well in the golden age arc and after that her character got so reduced and basically infantalized.

I was so happy when I got to the chapter where she started acting like herself again but well... We don't get to see much of that:/

In general, I have a lot of problems with some of the plotlines after the eclipse and how some could have been avoided and replaced with more important things instead (atleast imo some plotpoints couldve been replaced with more vital things but maybe thats just my opinion)

I think that Casca's overall character is rather underwhelming compared to the way that the fandom proclaims her to be but yeah, I agree, her character during the Golden Age was decent. I really liked the animosity she felt towards Guts because of the attention that Griffith gave him. It felt pretty realistic, in the way that someone you admire starts to pay attention to someone else right out of the blue, to the point that they're putting their lives on the line for that person.

I really don't like how Casca automatically softened up after her and Guts had sex, because it felt way too quick. I consider the downfall of Casca's character to begin with her having sex with Guts. She doesn't completely lose what made her a great, dynamic, character but she felt watered down. Also I've observed that this is where a lot of male fan's (and some female fans too) opinions of her change, which is pretty telling. A lot of criticisms of Casca from the dudebro crowd revolve around her character in the Golden Age, not post-Eclipse. They think she's too rash and aggressive. She's way too harsh on Guts because of her admiration for Griffith. I've lost count how many times I've seen her called a bitch or a cunt because of her Golden Age personality, and these people simply don't get it. Casca's strenuous relationship with Guts is what made her interesting. But now that she's been "tamed" through sex, all of a sudden, she's likable. She's Guts' girl now.

And then we get to post-Eclipse Casca. Oh Casca, I'm so sorry about what Miura did to you. You deserved better, much better than what Guts and Griffith put you through. Post-Eclipse Casca is barely a character. She's a child in an adult's body that causes problems for Guts and his new little group. Time after time, she's put through humiliating ordeals because the writing needs Guts to look cool as he saves her. Or even worst, the writing needs Guts to be a "good person" who may be annoyed at his traumatized girlfriend, but will still do anything to heal her broken mind. Guts drags her around like a dog on a leash (he actually does at one time) and at times, Casca really feels more like a burden than a mission.

And can we talk about the amount of times post-Eclipse Casca has been sexually assaulted/put into situations where she's naked? Nudity is by no means unexpected when it comes to Berserk but there's something that just feels so wrong about a regressed, mentally traumatized woman being in constant situations where she's assaulted or unnecessarily naked. I hate it.

Also yes, I completely agree that there could've been a lot more interesting plot lines and arcs post-Eclipse. The Conviction arc is a good 10/10 but after that, it really felt like Miura had no idea what to do. The Falcon of the Millennium Empire arc is pretty good, but that's morso when it focused on Griffith. Then there's the Fantasia arc and ehhhhh, I'm not a big fan of it. The duel between Guts and Serpico was cool but that's all I really like.

Anyways, I've rambled on way too long. Thanks for the ask!

[seeing-you-differently]

In Another Universe

Read on A03

. . .

Chapter 1: Prologue

"I think about her head on my chest and the scent of her hair, and it almost for a moment seemed real. Almost."

— Kirk Diedrich

WHEN HE AWOKE THAT MORNING, he was greeted by the familiar but still wonderful sight of Caroline Forbes curled into his side asleep, her head resting on his chest and her breath tickling his bare skin at every exhale. This domestic scene brought a smile to his face as he leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before shifting slightly away, trying to get up from underneath her, being careful not to wake her. She softly grumbled in protest at the movement, her hands weakly gripping his sides tighter in her sleep, trying to pull him closer. Klaus smiled fondly at the girl, amused at her action, before trying to maneuver away again, successfully this time.

Klaus was always an early riser out of habit, waking up before the sun rose. On the other hand, Caroline rose hours later, almost always sleeping in. He usually sketched during the extra time he had, enjoying the short period of silence and tranquility to marvel at the city or Caroline for inspiration. However, he forewent his usual routine, heading out to the balcony instead.

The view was wonderous, no surprise – since he had been the one to design it that way. The bedroom windows faced the river, leaving him a clear view of any newcomers or ships that docked, and while that was certainly good, what he enjoyed most was the view it gave him in the morning.

The sun had begun to peek over the horizon, painting the river in various hues of crimson and gold. The reflection made it look as though the area was set alight with flames blazing across the dark dawn sky. New Orleans was certainly a beautiful city, but it felt more enjoyable ever since Caroline’s arrival.

While he can barely remember the first time he came to New Orleans, having been more than a century, he can clearly recall the day Caroline came to it, and he always will. The day was almost a year ago though it felt as if only yesterday with the memory so pellucid in his mind.

- . . . -

As Klaus sat in the parlor, dejected with a drink in hand, he knew it would be another one of those days. When he awoke that morning, he decided to take up sketching again, nothing fully in mind when he started, but he realized his mistake when the drawing was finished.

It was of Caroline.

Her crystalline, guileless eyes gazed at him from the paper, seeming to taunt him yet a mere illusion when compared to the real beauty – one of the most important people in his life, whom he would not see for many years, and maybe even centuries to come.

Klaus didn’t know how it all started, how he had fallen in love with this remarkable woman, how he came to care for her, love her so much that she consumed his every thought and action. He would give up anything and everything for her, and he did, but it seemed fortune was not in his favor. It was as if everything he had done over the years, all the evil deeds and crimes, came back, and the punishment for it was losing the one thing, the one person he had come to care for more than anything.

After all the evil things he had done, the people he had killed and tortured over the years, he would not deny that he didn’t deserve her, but he would protect her, love her. He would give up everything if only he were given a chance to be with her, but he was never given one.

The world always seemed to be against him in every way since birth, through no fault of his own. His ‘father’ hated him, despised him even, ever since he was a child, for no reason he knew or deserved, punishing him for things out of his control. Most of his childhood was spent striving hard to please his father, to earn his respect, until he finally realized he could never reach it. Mikael hated him long before he learned the truth of his true parentage and Esther’s infidelity, but once he found out, it seemed his hatred toward him only grew.

With everything he went through when he was human, the betrayal, the abuse, the hatred, he desperately wanted someone loyal to him, someone who would stay with him not out of necessity but out of genuine care and love for him. He knew his siblings cared for him, but they merely stayed with him out of necessity, either knowing he held one of their other siblings daggered or a sense of childish loyalty, which was so fleeting he could barely call it such.

Klaus did not even realize what he wanted, no, what he needed, until he had met Caroline. Her fiery spirit and fierce loyalty to her friends was a devotion he rarely saw in the world; the way she carried herself: strong, confidant, with a light that seemed to radiate about her wherever she went. Even when he promised her the world – anything she desired, she still didn’t want him, and maybe she never would.

A sudden knock on the front door brought him out of his musing. The sound wasn’t loud, but it still echoed throughout the house, filling the previously quiet room and alerting him of the stranger’s presence.

At first, he assumed it to be his sister Rebekah coming back from one of her many shopping sprees or maybe even his older brother Elijah coming back for forgiveness from their earlier spat. However, when he opened the door, the sight that greeted him was nothing of the sort, leaving him speechless as his eyes roamed his guest’s appearance.

It was Caroline.

Caroline Forbes was here, in New Orleans, and she was standing on his front steps. She was here.

No matter how often he tried repeating the thought, he was still stunned, frozen in the doorway, watching her with wide eyes. Caroline, though, was unaware of his lack of a response, standing proudly with a broad smile stretched across her face. When the door opened, and she saw him, she began to speak, her arms gesturing at her every imaginary point, but unfortunately for her, he couldn’t hear a word.

Klaus blinked his eyes rapidly in disbelief, unsure if he had imagined it, but she was still standing there when his eyes opened. When she hadn’t disappeared, his eyes scanned her form, taking in every detail, almost hesitantly, as if unsure if it was indeed her. Her hair was curled in that familiar style that he recognized, flowing loosely down her shoulders. His eyes drifted down, taking notice of the yellow sundress she was wearing, flowing just above her knees in soft waves, but hanging tightly around her waist.

Everything about her, every detail, seemed to radiate Caroline, but he still stood hesitant, unsure of how to react. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t imagined this before; he had, many times if he was being honest. How she would arrive at his doorsteps or call him, telling him that she wanted him to show her the world, that she wanted him, but he always woke up. It was never real.

“Are you going to invite me in, Klaus?” Caroline asked, her eyes darting away nervously as she spoke and her smile dropping slightly when he didn’t respond to her arrival.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat nervously, finally breaking out of his stupor to respond. “Yes, of course, love,” he answered, a smile growing as he opened the door wider, allowing her entry.

Ever since then, ever since that fateful day, he had been showing her parts of the world she had never seen before, and he would continue to do so for as long as allowed him to.

His reminiscing was cut short by the sound of Caroline padding towards him, her hands wrapping around his as she gave him a quick peck on his cheek before resting her head on his shoulders.

“Good morning,” she greeted, holding back a tired yawn.

He looked down at the tired but smiling blonde, before giving her a soft but loving kiss. “Morning, love.”

It was moments like these that he cherished. The moments when he woke up every morning with Caroline in his arms. When she kisses him, telling him that she loves him. These were precious to him, unlike any other, because he shared them with her. She held a special place in his heart and would continue to have one as long as he lived.

[katy-l-wood]

Ugh, okay, I need to vent a bit. This is about what happened with my old critique group a couple weeks ago.

So, I’ve been in this critique group for fourish years now. The group billed itself as a group that didn’t just focus on making writing better, but on helping people to get published. In those four years my writing VASTLY improved, I self-published one novel, got an agent for a different novel, and started a multitude of other novel projects. In total I fed about 2.75 novels through the group to be critiqued a few chapters at a time, along with a short story or two. The group was GOOD.

About a year in another member joined, we’ll call him M, who wrote stories with some extremely offensive content related to the LGBTQIA community. Before he joined he’d been in another branch of the group and the president of the group SPECIFICALLY TOLD ME that he was glad M was joining our branch because the president, H, thought that I specifically might be able to critique him better as a queer woman than other group members had. So I did. I gave him a very thorough critique outlining the issues I felt were in his work, doing my best to keep it focused on his work and not make it personal. M privately complained to H that I had been rude so we just all decided M and I would not critique one another. Which worked great. Group continued on as normal and the last three years were fine.

Or so I thought.

Then last meeting another, newer, member, P, went OFF on me during critique saying she didn’t want to critique me anymore because I was “wasting her time with [my] writing” (mind you, she’s barely ever critiqued me as she frequently has things come up that kept her from doing critiques) and H, who had stepped down from running the group and passed it to his son J about a year ago, piled on. H made a bunch of comments about how his “time was valuable” because “he’s a freelancer.” Mind you, he was specifically complaining about spending 20 minutes researching something about a single sentence of my chapter that I mentioned needing to cut, something that was 100% his choice to do. (Also...everyone in this group is a freelancer??? All our time is valuable???) All of this came completely out of the blue. I ended up leaving the zoom meeting because P kept talking over me and repeating that I was “wasting her time” and wouldn’t even let me get a word in.

So then J messages everyone after the group saying to message him privately about what happened and their feelings on it and any suggestions they have. So I do. I outline my issues, I outline my suggestions, and I outline what I think went wrong. J’s response was to first say “I’m not going to bother to go point by point” about everything I said. He also implied that he’s apparently gotten other complaints about me before? He would not give any further information, nor had I EVER been told this. He also kept comparing me to M for some reason? Despite continued attempts to get clarification he refused to give it so between that and what occurred in the actual meeting I elected to leave the group.

I continued to communicate with several friends in the group, including ones who had not been at the meeting, who told me what occurred after I left. J made a vague mention of me leaving after an issue in the previous meeting and a vaguer mention of having a town hall meeting about what occurred. That was it. He did not outline what actually happened, he did not provide any date for the town hall, he did not even say what the town hall would be about. Then today, a day before the next meeting, he says it’s just going to be a regular meeting and they’ll schedule the town hall later. Group members were understandably confused and asked for clarification as J STILL hadn’t actually really explained what was going on. J came back with a huffy reply about, since there was so much “drama,” they’d just have the town hall tomorrow. Still didn’t clarify what’s going on even though multiple people were now asking.

In an attempt to clear things up for my friends still in the group, I posted an outline of what happened, sans any opinions. To which H and his wife H2 both responded with extreme vitriol about how I was apparently super rude in group and it wasn’t okay that I make changes to my work and that this has been a huge ongoing issue despite no one ever mentioning a thing to me, and that it’s not my place to provide clarity now that I’ve left the group.

So. Yeah. TL;DR: My critique group got mad at me for making changes to my work (based on critiques THEY GAVE) and when I tried to get clarification about anything the president of the group refused to give it, so I had to leave. SO THAT’S NEAT.

Whatever. Looking at it now I can see how toxic the group had gotten since J took over as president and I’m glad to be out. But it sucks to lose so many friends in one go, and it really sucks to lose my only social thing I’ve had during the whole pandemic.

I’m going to re-open the critique group I tried to start on my own a few months ago, but probably not until sometime next month.

Just. Meh. Needed to lay it all out.

[seriouslysnape]

Ooh yey requests are open 💕 could you write something where reader is the one to propose to severus instead of the traditional way? With a ring and all?

OH STOP THAT’S SO CUTEEEEEEEEE.

__

Indecent Proposal

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

A/N: HAHAHA. This gif doesn’t match this one-shot at all, but I thought it was funny out of context.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,511

“If you wish to ever tell me something, I’m here to listen.”

__

Severus knew the moment that he met you that you were the one. It was a sort of sensation that he couldn’t describe. It was like when he laid eyes on you, the final piece of his puzzle of life fell into place, completing a full picture. He knew that his life was fulfilled with you. It wasn’t until your third or fourth week of dating that he began to think about marriage. He spent several days brainstorming over what kind of ring you might like, or what kind of house you’d want to live in once you were wed.

Severus was never one to just jump right into things. He liked to calculate every aspect of his life, weighing all possible options and considering all scenarios. This was no different. Even though he could have very well gotten down on one knee after just a month of dating, he knew that was far too soon for a marriage proposal. There was no way that either of you were ready or prepared to get married yet. Severus, though, was a patient man when it came to you.

He was willing to wait as long as it took.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, Severus was beginning to feel that proposal itch once more. He knew the time was getting right, and he wouldn’t be able to overlook his heart’s wishes much longer. He was ready to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted his proposal to be nothing short of exemplary. He had already bought a ring about a week ago, one that you had mentioned in passing that you liked. He made sure to make a note of it, going back and purchasing it when you weren’t with him. He had kept it in the box in his pocket ever since, waiting until he felt like the moment was right.

He wanted nothing to be out of place. He wanted every little detail to be exactly to his liking. All of this would take time to plan out, which was why he was planning to propose to you the following week to make sure he was ready beforehand.

However, you had been acting strangely over the last few days. You were jittery, almost nervous around him. When it was just the two of you, he couldn’t help but notice the way your leg bounced anxiously and you couldn’t keep your attention on him for longer than a few passing moments.

He watched how skittish you were during dinner. You couldn’t sit still for the life of you and you weren’t speaking much. When you did speak, your diction was so fast that he could barely keep up with what you were saying. He could tell you were preoccupied with something.

“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” He asked gently, catching your attention.

You visibly jumped in your seat. Your fork spazzed from your hand and hit your plate with a loud clatter, the sound echoing in your ears. He paused hard and stared at you like you were a mad woman. He furrowed his brows in confusion and curiosity.

“Yep!” You squeaked; “I’m fine, I’m great! Why wouldn’t I be alright?” You rocketed off rapidly.

He set his own utensils down, folding his hands and looking harder into you. You were straight as a board as you sat, your shoulders pushed way further back than normal. He was worried that something was bothering you that you weren’t telling him about.

“Darling, you’re so flushed.” He pointed out, looking at how your face looked quite spectral.

You shook your head vigorously, continuing to dig yourself into a deeper hole with your odd behavior.

“I think it’s just hot in here...is it hot in here? I think it’s a little hot in here.” You rambled.

Now he REALLY knew something was up. You always complained about how cold he kept his Hogwarts’ living space. There wasn’t a fire crackling in the fireplace, so there was no way you were overly warm. He didn’t question it, only smiling kindly and standing from his chair. He approached you, putting his hands on the back of your chair to persuade you to get up.

“Why don’t we get out and get some fresh air, yes? We can finish dinner later.” He suggested, taking your clammy hand into his.

He was afraid that maybe you were coming down with something, but you didn’t look or act sickly. He guided you from your chair, leaving a soft kiss to your forehead. He felt your shoulders relax at the motion. You felt a bit comforted for now, his touch putting you at ease.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” You said in a more standard tone.

He linked his arm into yours, sweeping you away and outside into the cool evening. It was a beautiful spring night, for there was not a cloud in the steadily darkening sky. The sun had mostly set below the horizon, just a few minutes needed to go by before it was fully dark. You and Severus strolled alongside each other, making small talk as he tried to gauge what had you so uptight.

He never wanted you to be upset. It absolutely broke his heart anytime something was wrong and draining you of any happiness. However, you didn’t seem unhappy or sad. You were simply just nervous about something, but he couldn’t even begin to think of what it could be. He was stumped.

Your hand fiddled in your pocket. Your fingertips clutched the silver, metal ring that was housed there. The material was smooth against your skin as you refused to let it go. You had been holding on to it for at least two weeks now, and the entire time you had been terrified of losing it.

You knew that a woman proposing to a man wasn’t conventional. It was very traditional for the man to propose to the woman with a stunning ring that is supposed to fit perfectly and they’re supposed to cry at the new chapter of their life that’s been opened. You had been through it all in your head already.

Naturally, you had originally wanted Severus to be the one to ask for your hand in marriage. You had been waiting for him to suddenly get on one knee and pull out a ring and ask you to spend forever with him. But the longer you waited, the more impatient you became. With each passing day, you reminded yourself that you weren’t getting any younger, and you wanted to be with him for as long as possible.

That’s when you got the idea.

You could just as easily plan a proposal. You could go out and buy a ring that you knew he’d like. You knew he’d want something private, quiet, and not in front of a crowd of people. That was a win-win, because at least if you were to be mocked for proposing first, it would be just Severus and not a group of others. You felt a little out of your mind for this, but you knew it could be really sweet and romantic. Either way, it wasn’t really about the proposal.

It was about spending forever with the one you loved the most.

At one point, he stopped walking with you. You were just faintly illuminated by the light of the moon far above your heads. He was taking in how pretty you were. In every moment of every day, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He had never felt so fortunate to have such a stunning human being in his life. A charming, alluring woman with an even purer heart and soul.

“My beautiful girl,” He said, cupping the side of your face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. Your heart beat began to quicken. You knew this was the moment; “If you wish to ever tell me something, I’m here to listen.”

You were trying to disregard how shaky your breathing was every time you inhaled. You weren’t sure how he’d react to this, but either way you knew he’d say yes. Even then, you still couldn’t shake off the edgy feeling in your gut.

“Yeah, of course.” You said with an encouraging smile.

“If something has you disturbed, then I want to help you if I can. I don’t want you to believe that you have to deal with things on your own. I’m here for you.” He claimed.

This was one of the many reasons you loved him. He was always in your corner, and he never let you forget it. He would walk through fire for you. He’d do anything as long as it meant that you were happy. Your happiness topped anything else in his life. You were all that mattered.

“It’s nothing like that, S. I’ve just had something on my mind lately.” You explained.

As secure as Severus felt in your relationship, he still felt a drop in his chest. After saying that and the way you had been acting, he thought that maybe you were thinking of ending this. His head and heart were both getting ready to fight for you if you were. He couldn’t just let you walk out of his life, despite his internal panic, he remained level headed.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked, bringing one of your hands to his lips and leaving a soft kiss. He brought your hand to his chest, just in case this was the last time he’d ever feel you.

If you had known that’s what he was thinking, you’d probably start crying. Severus was so used to rejection and disappointment in his life, before he met you. He still shrank into his old thinking ways, preparing for the worst every time he thought something was going wrong.

But he didn’t know that his life was about to get even better than it was.

This was it. You knew you could do it. With your other hand, you fished in your pocket for the ring as you replied.

“Well, yes...but there’s something I want to ask you.” You said, successfully retrieving the ring and holding it to where he could see it.

He eyed the silver ring, still holding your other hand to him. His other hand fell from your face as he stared blankly at the handsome piece of jewelry in your palm. He looked to you for an explanation, relieved now that you probably weren’t breaking up with him based on the blinding grin on your face.

“Severus Snape,” You said, almost as a whisper; “Will you marry me?”

His entire nervous system shut down for a millisecond and restarted. He felt a rush of static and something else that even he couldn’t identify.

Now, Severus knew there were a million different ways to react to this. Undoubtedly, the first thought that came to his head when he came to the realization that you were proposing was that you had officially lost your marbles. He had always envisioned himself being the one to ask you to marry him, not the other way around. He wasn’t at all miffed that you had decided to take matters into your own hands. If anything, he felt a little bad that he had taken so long that you felt the need to do it yourself.

Everything clicked in his head. Your nervous behavior was evidently because you had built this up in your mind and were afraid of how it would go. When he looked into your eyes and saw how they were filled with suspense and elation, he knew exactly how to react in the most honest, intentional way.

You half expected him to burst into laughter and make fun of you for doing it yourself. You even thought for a second that he might say no because HE wanted to be the one to do it. Instead, Severus caught you in a kiss so lovingly faultless and personable that it made you weak in the knees. He kissed you for a long time, standing under the gleaming stars and inky black sky. It was such a long kiss, in fact, that you wondered for a split second if he was stalling so he didn’t have to give an answer.

However, when he pulled away, his words were as clear as ever and his voice was as content as it had ever been.

“Oh, my love...my flower...” He remarked gingerly; “I thought you’d never ask.”

You both fell into tensile rounds of laughter, knowing that he was poking a bit of fun at the situation. You had matching smiles on your faces, so wrapped up in love and partiality that it was almost overwhelming. The ring fit well on his left hand, and made his hands look even more manly. It was a foreign feeling to have a ring on his hand, considering he almost never wore them. He’d grow used to it soon enough.

You kissed him over and over, so thrilled that he had said yes that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You stopped your attack of kisses when he noticed he had pulled something out from his own pocket. You eyed the small red box, your raised brow falling and your eyes widening when he opened it silently to reveal the most breathtaking engagement ring you had ever seen. That’s when you realized it was the same one you had pointed out a while back.

“Sev, is that...?” You trailed off, with a soft giggle.

He nodded with a triumphant grin.

“Yes. I was going to ask you myself next week,” He admitted; “Looks like you beat me to it.”

Your laughter was harder and more chaotic this time, both of you cackling so much that you felt dizzy after a few moments. He slid the ring onto your finger, admiring how it looked so flawless on your hand. He brought you into his arms, your chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him.

“I know this wasn’t traditional, but I just-”

Severus put a slender finger to your lips.

“Shh,” He hushed; “It’s absolutely perfect.”

The two of you stood there in blissful silence, your hearts beating in sync with an inexpressible sense of euphoria. He left kisses in your hair, whispering sweet nothings in your ear every few moments to break the silence. This was far better than any proposal he ever could’ve planned. It was elegant, graceful, and most importantly, memorable.

“I love you.” Your voice rang out, your newly adorned hand brushing some of his hair from his face so you could fully see him.

He smiled once more, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly. He was excited for this new part of his life. He was excited to begin his life that would now be intertwined with yours.

He was unquestionably happy.

“I love you, darling. And now I’ll have forever to do so.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Jealousy (oneshot)

Harry Potter marauders era 

Request: Hello, I was wondering if you could write a oneshot, where the reader and Regulus have a friends with benefits thing going on and they have feelings for each other but he won't admit it, so a random boy asks the reader on a date and Regulus gets super jealous and admits his feelings and they start a proper relationship. You can decide whether you want it fluffy or smutty. 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut

Songs in Story:  Songs in Chapter: Tiring Game by John Newman and You and your Hand by Pink

________

Our love is just a tiring game, I never want a thing to change, Our love is just a tiring game. I'll never give it up,

“Y/n, wake up. We fell asleep again.”

You yawned before yanking the blanket over your head. The last thing that you wanted to do at the moment was to think about going to potions class. All that you wanted to do was lay in the nice warm bed that you had been occupying for hours.

“Quiet yourself, Regulus. Still sleepy.”

You heard Regulus chuckle as he pulled his abandoned pants on. He sat back down on the bed and shook your leg.

“If we don’t get to class, Slughorn will figure out that we are out together. If he starts watching us then there will be no more fun.”

You knew exactly what Regulus meant by “fun.” The two of you had been in a "friends with benefits relationship" for over a year and a half. Fun meant the two of you sneaking off to some hidden section of the castle or the room of requirement to fuck your frustrations away. The arrangement had worked just fine for the most part. Both of you acted as friends during the day (with the hint of mutual pining) then at night both of you would be all over each other.

No one seemed to notice anything different about your relationship with Regulus and if any had any suspicions they didn’t speak of it. Regulus had been glued to you since your first year so it wasn’t uncommon to see the two of you together constantly.

Everything about the arrangement had been just fine for you until you started developing feelings for Regulus. The realization hit you like a brick to the stomach around month five of the “arrangement.” You had started to look beyond Regulus’ good looks to see the man who he was beneath it all. He wasn’t the shrewd, sarcastic boy that everyone else saw. With you, Regulus was gentle and cared about what you wanted or needed. He knew how to please you and often left you crying out underneath him (or on top of him).

The problem was Regulus didn’t seem interested in taking this relationship up to the next level. You would have been thrilled if he would have asked you to be his girlfriend...but it never happened. He instead seemed happy with just keeping you under his watchful gaze with the title of “best friend.”

Sitting up, you knew that if the two of you didn’t get a move on there would be no time for breakfast. Pulling your shirt on, you froze the moment that you felt Regulus’ hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, I forgot to cover up a love bite.”

You sighed as he took out his wand and pointed it to the very noticeable bite on your neck. What you didn’t say to Regulus was that you wanted to stop hiding the bites. You wanted to be able to kiss him in public...but how could you when he didn’t seem interested?

What you didn’t know was Regulus was feeling the same way. He had been silently brooding over feelings of love and desperation for the past few months and didn’t know how to deal with them. Never in his life had he had these feelings before. Now that he had them, Regulus had no idea what to do with them.

What if you didn’t love him back?

What if saying how much he loved you turned you off and you wanted nothing more to do with him?

Was Regulus ready to risk losing the chance to give you physical love if you would accept the romantic side of things?

There were so many “what ifs” that Regulus was left deciding to keep all of his feelings on the inside and suffer in silence. Suffering in silence was, after all, what he was good at. You would be yet another reason for him to keep quiet. Regulus didn’t want to lose the one bright spot in his life. The last thing that he wanted was to lose the one real friend that he had in his life. You had been his best friend since first year and hell would freeze over before Regulus let you get away from him.

“Reg, are you ready? We need to get going?”

Your voice pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He quickly looked up and nodded before throwing on his robe.

Slipping into the great hall, Evan was the first to look up when you sat down beside Regulus. He looked up over his half-eaten breakfast. You gave Evan a warning look as if begging him not to say anything. Evan was the only person that remotely knew of your “true” feelings about Regulus and had been sworn to secrecy. That didn’t mean that he had to be quiet about it in private. Evan had encouraged you multiple times to talk to Regulus but you never did.

“Good morning to the both of you. Where have you two been?”

Regulus didn’t turn to look at you. He took a sip of the drink that Evan shoved in front of him.

“Sorry, my brother and his idiot friends were pranking some poor Ravenclaw. It was such a disaster that we couldn’t look away.”

Evan chuckled.

“That is highly believable. It's like watching a world-class disaster.”

You nodded, rolling your eyes.

“Detention is their second home. If you two will excuse me a moment. I need to go talk to someone.”

Regulus knew that you were going to talk to one of your female Slytherin friends. You didn’t have many of them but the few that you had were halfway decent. Regulus didn’t feel bad giving up some of his time for the two.

“When are you going to ask her out?”

Regulus looked up at Evan’s comment.

“What?”

“You heard me. The two of you have it so bad for each other.”

Regulus snorted.

“You’re full of shit.”

Evan shrugged as Jacob Brown from Ravenclaw walked across the great hall to where you sat with Ameile Adams.

“Yeah, well, how do you feel about that boy talking to your girl?”

Regulus immediately sat up straight and frowned as he watched Jacob’s mouth moving. You, meanwhile, sat appearing stunned. Regulus didn’t like that look on your face. Was Jacob making you uncomfortable? Did Regulus need to kick his ass? If so, he didn’t mind. He was bigger than Jacob. It was more than a fair fight.

“Come on.”

Regulus snapped before getting up and storming over to where you sat with Evan on his heels like a puppy.

Jacob barely looked up when Regulus sat down beside you.

“I’ll talk to you about it soon. Thanks for the consideration.”

Jacob grinned before turning and walking off looking freakishly proud of himself. Before Regulus could ask what happened you turned to face him.

“How bizarre, Jacob asked me on a date.”

Regulus immediately felt his stomach drop to his feet. Evan’s mouth had dropped too and he didn’t dare turn to his best friend. He didn’t have to look at Regulus to know that the boy was in an internal panic.

“And you said?”

Regulus questioned. You shrugged.

“Well, I said yes. It’s just a lunch date on Saturday.”

“But my quidditch game is Saturday. You always come to that.”

Regulus immediately snapped. You frowned, slightly taken back by your best friend’s sudden horrid mood. If you didn’t know better, you would think that Regulus was jealous. You knew better than that though. That would mean that Regulus would care about you in a more than friendly way. He was probably only upset because you were going to miss his quidditch match. You, of all people, knew how much that meant to him.

“Reg, it's just one match. I come to them all.”

Regulus’ eyes were darker than normal as he glared at you. He sat a moment before muttering “whatever” under his breath before standing up and storming off.

“What the hell was that?”

You questioned. Ameile, seemed as surprised as you did. She didn’t respond as Evan laughed.

“I think Reggie is feeling a bit jealous.”

Regulus avoided you for the better part of the day. He was literally nowhere to be found and it was starting to bug you. If Regulus was so jealous of some other guy dating you then why didn’t he man up and ask you himself?

You are overthinking this. This is just about the stupid quidditch match.

You thought angrily as you stormed down to the quidditch pitch. Practice for the Slytherin team should be over within the next few minutes. If Regulus thought that he was going to get away without the tongue lashing of a lifetime then he obviously didn’t know you too well. The last thing that you were about to be was some “poor pitiful” soul.

Regulus stood talking to another teammate when you finally spotted him. Normally, you would have patiently waited for him to come to join you. As much as you didn’t care for anything athletic, you knew how much quidditch meant to Regulus would come to watch him practice or his matches. That’s what good friends did.

You could see Evan sitting in the stands in your typical place with Barty Crouch Jr. He automatically grinned before elbowing Barty in the ribs. You of all people knew that Evan was waiting for some kind of “show.” If he pulled out a bucket of popcorn, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

Regulus had finally looked up. His gaze met yours before quickly looking away. He said something to the other boy and turned to go off in the opposite direction.

“Oh hell no, you didn’t”

You grumbled before going after him.

“Regulus, wait!”

He didn’t turn. Regulus apparently decided that he was going to refuse to acknowledge your presence.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, I said fucking wait! I swear to god if you don’t stop ignoring me I am going to fucking hex the hell out of you and you know that I can do it.”

Regulus finally glanced over his shoulder.

“Whatever, sweetheart. See you tonight.”

The little jab about sleeping together quickly got under your skin. Is that how he felt? Did he think that he was going to get to be inside of you after treating you like this?

“Whatever right back to you, sweetheart.”

Regulus laughed at that. His next comment was about to be very crude but he didn’t care.

“So how do you think that your little boyfriend is going to like knowing that I feed you my cock every night? Do you think Jacob will like knowing that you are fucking another guy on the regular?”

You turned and stormed off in the opposite direction before you said something that you were really going to regret later.

Ameile looked up when you barged into the common room. She was surprised to see the angry expression on your pretty face.

“Okay, Y/n?”

You shook your head.

“Hell no. I hate Regulus.”

Ameile looked totally surprised by the comment that came out of your mouth. You never said anything bad about Regulus. Ameile had literally never heard you say a single bad thing about Regulus. When Ameile began a friendship with you, she thought that the two of you were Regulus’ girlfriend. She was honestly shocked when Evan told her differently.

“What did he do?”

You sat down and slammed your head onto the headrest.

“I can’t tell you everything. He’s just being a jealous shit.”

Ameile raised an eyebrow.

“Oh come on, Y/n. We tell each other everything. I can assure you that there is nothing about you that would honestly shock me.”

You knew that you didn’t need to tell Ameile your biggest most guarded secret but at the moment you needed advice from someone who wasn’t Regulus.

“Fine, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone or I will hex you. Regulus and I have been friends with benefits for a while...well....well...fuck I have feelings for the git. He’s been a seething jealous little shit since Jacob asked for that date. Well, me being the joyful person that I am, decided to call him on his garbage and you know what the ass said? He had the nerve to say, see you tonight, sweetheart AFTER FUCKING AVOIDING ME ALL GOD DAMNED FUCKING DAY!”

Ameile looked totally surprised by your outburst. She had honestly figured that you were sleeping with Regulus and now that she had the confirmation she was thrilled.

“That was a little bold on his end.”

“A little bold? I want to punch his fucking face in then kiss him. What is wrong with me?”

Ameile giggled.

“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you at all. What did you tell him?”

You laughed.

“Whatever right back to you, sweetheart. I should have said it was going to be just you and your hand but I was so mad that I didn’t think of it.”

Ameile smiled before getting up.

“Come on, let's get you a drink. Evan has some whiskey and I have access to it.”

Half an hour later, you were pleasantly buzzed yet still feeling ready to fight. Ameile had put on some record and the lyrics hit perfectly.

“Feeling better?”

Ameile asked. You nodded.

“Feeling saintly.”

You replied as Regulus stepped into the common room with Evan behind him. Both boys automatically winced at the volume of the record that was blaring. In fact, they had heard it as soon as they stepped into the dungeons.

“That noise is coming from here.”

Regulus groaned. Evan noticed his bottle of whiskey in your hand and decided that it wasn’t worth losing a limb or getting a black eye over.

“Are you two drunk?”

Evan shouted over the music. You shook your head.

“Just buzzed and enjoying our boy hating music.”

You said the last part and focused your eyes right on Regulus who was clearly hearing what the song was saying..

I'm not here for your entertainment. You don't really want to mess with me tonight. Just stop and take a second. I was fine before you walked into my life. Cause you know it's over before it began. Keep your drink, just give me the money. It's just you and your hand tonight…

Regulus waited all of three seconds before realizing this was your drunken way of telling him to piss off and that he wasn’t getting a goddamned thing from you that night.

The next morning, you awoke in your own bed for the first time in a week. Groaning, you sat up. Just what the hell had you been doing the night before and what did Ameile give you to drink?

“Hey, are you awake?”

Ameile’s voice was super cheerful and loud. You winced before moving to get a clean uniform on.

“I’m alive if that is what you are asking. Where the hell did you get that booze?”

“Rosier.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, it was Evan. Evan was the guy that you didn’t take booze from. Whatever he had would knock you on your ass and leave you drunk as fuck singing songs about stuff that made no sense.

“A word of advice, never take alcohol from Evan Rosier.”

Ameile shrugged with a grin.

“Come on, let's go get some food in you. I’m sure a nice piece of toast will make you feel better.”

Stepping into the great hall, you groaned at all of the loudness that was surrounding you. Regulus was staring right at you when you finally looked up. It didn’t take you being his friend to know that he was ticked off about something.

Probably me telling him that it was just him and his hand for company.

You thought before sitting down beside Ameile. Evan was cheerfully talking to Barty about something as he turned to you.

“Good morning, star shine. You look a bit rough.”

You didn’t hesitate to flip Evan off to his face.

“Fuck you and your booze, Rosier. If I wouldn’t puke on you, I would come over and beat the shit out of you.”

Evan looked a bit taken back as Regulus took his place beside you.

“That’s rude.”

Evan commented as you whined when Ameile started scraping butter on the piece of toast in front of her.

“Would you stop?”

You snapped. The sound of the knife scratching the toast was about to drive you nuts. How long did it take someone to put goddamn butter on a goddamn slice of toast? Ameile put the bread down before putting her hands in her lap.

“Y/n.”

Regulus’ voice was soft. Finally, something that wasn’t making your head throb.

“What?”

You replied as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“Can we go talk? Alone?”

“I guess.”

You said as he stood up and gently pulled you along after him.

Walking in silence, you didn’t realize where you were going until the room of requirement’s door closed behind you.

“Here, drink this.”

Regulus said before handing you a cup. You looked down at it before snorting.

“Yeah, so you can poison me?”

It was Regulus’ turn to scoff.

“Would you stop it? I wouldn’t harm you.”

You finally took a sip of the drink and felt instantly back to your normal self. Looking up, you shook your head.

“Better?”

Regulus questioned. You nodded.

“It's a good thing that you are so wonderful at potions. I felt like death. What the fuck is wrong with Evan to drink that?”

Regulus laughed.

“It's Evan that we are talking about. Look Y/n, I wanted to apologize about yesterday. I was...I was a dick and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Why did you act like that?”

You questioned. Regulus shoved his hands in his pockets before his eyes rolled up to you innocently.

“Because I love you...and knowing that you are going to go on a date with Jacob is destroying me because it's not me.”

You knew that you had to be staring at Regulus with your mouth open for a while.

“You love me?”

Regulus nodded. He knew that he had to get his feelings out before he lost you for good.

“I do. I’ve been afraid to tell you because I thought that you would reject me. It looks like that is what you are doing by going out with Jacob so I fucked everything up anyway.”

“I never told Jacob yes...for what it's worth. Furthermore, I love you too, Regulus. I’ve been in love with you for so long. You just never seemed to be interested so I kept it myself.”

Regulus reached out to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart, I love you. I want to be with you.”

You placed your hand on top of his.

“I want to be with you too. Regulus, I’m yours.”

Regulus looked as if he had won the lottery.

“I’m yours too.”

The kiss was soft and timid at first before growing needy. Neither of you was the least bit worried about the need to breathe.

“The bed...get on the bed.”

Regulus moaned against your lips as your hand gently palmed him through his trousers. You didn’t have to be told twice. This was the quickest that you had undressed in a long time. Sure, sex with Regulus was enough to get you naked anytime that he asked but this time it was different. The two of you weren’t just having sex as friends with benefits anymore. You were making love as a couple.

You quickly lay down on your stomach bringing your leg up giving Regulus access to your waiting core.

“Get inside of me.”

You ordered. Regulus didn’t have to be told twice. He was on the bed behind you in an instant. His fingers gripped your hips pulling you up enough to bury himself inside of you.

Fuck, she’s dripping wet.

Regulus thought. He knew that he was going to have to stop thinking or he would explode quicker than he needed to. Regulus wanted to take things slow. He wanted to watch every moment of pleasure that graced your face. Knowing that he was going to be the only one to make you smile this way was more than enough to stroke his male ego.

Regulus set a punishingly slow rhythm. You were clearly getting annoyed with his slower than normal teasing and tried to speed Regulus up by pressing back into his body. Regulus was not about to let that happen.

“If you don’t be a good girl then I’m going to flip you over and lick your pussy nice and slow. I think you know me well enough to know that I won’t let you come.”

“I want to hold you.”

You moan as Regulus slowly pumped into you again. Regulus considered your request for a moment before pulling out enough to gently roll you onto your back. He was back inside before you had enough time to come up with something crafty. At the moment, all Regulus wanted was to show you just who you belonged to. It was him...not that Jacob guy whose name you wouldn’t remember by morning.

“Reggie.””

You cried his name before tangling one hand in his hair and the other arm around his back. Regulus’ mouth was on yours. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room along with your cries of completion, as with each thrust of his hips, you were coming closer to falling off the edge.

“Damn it, sugar, you should feel how you're spasming around me. I’m so close baby. Would you like me to finish you off?”

You feebly nodded as Regulus reached between your joined bodies to tease your clit. His middle finger went from rubbing in a up and down pattern before switching to a circular pattern then back to the original.

“Fuck, yes. Regulus, please.”

You cried out, not caring if anyone in the castle could hear the two of you fucking like bunnies. Regulus picked his speed up abusing your already spasming core over and over.

“Good girl.”

Regulus praised as you finally came. His eyes had closed as he focused on his own release. Regulus wanted nothing more than to keep fucking you until you begged for mercy but...today...that wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re too fucking good, sweetheart.”

Regulus cooed, feeling his own release building. Your hand was on his cheek silently begging him to look into your eyes.

“Let me on your lap.”

Regulus silently agreed to whatever plan that you had to make him come. He sat up, stroking his length as you positioned yourself over him. Regulus groaned when you slid down onto him. Right as Regulus started to thrust again, you shook your head.

“No. Be still.”

Regulus groaned as your body gripped him tighter if possible. He wanted nothing more than to thrust up into you but he did as he was told. Regulus could be the perfect most devious of a dom but with one of the flip of the switch, he could be an obedient submissive.

“Be still, darling. Just relax. Enjoy the feeling of being inside of me. I’m still so wet, Reggie.”

He had a good idea what you were going to do. You were going to make him come just by being inside of you. This was one of your favorite activities when Regulus was desperate to come. You would sit snuggled on his lap with his cock inside of you while you stroked your fingers through his hair and whispered erotically to him.

“Not tonight.”

Regulus replied before snapping his hips one final time and coming inside of you. You moaned as his mouth closed on yours sealing the moment.

It was Regulus that was the first to move. He gently moved to lay you on your side. You only had to wait a moment before Regulus had his arms wrapped around you. Snuggling your face into his chest, you yawned happily.

“So I guess I should properly ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Regulus said with a truly happy smile. You quickly responded with a kiss.

“That’s me saying yes.”

________

@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @spiderxalmighty @teletubiswszpilkach @whymyparentscheckmyphone @fific7 @jessyballet @knreidy1 @criminalyetminimal @rubyroscoe1 @acciosiriusblack @bennyberry @hazncalsgal @exhsle @lucasfilms77 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @emiwrites3reads @li0nh34rt @tas898 @marichromatic @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[waragainstyourfaith]

Thank you to @broughtmeyourlove for listening to the beginnings of this (aka when I first got my thoughts down) and thank you to me for saying all this in the shower but most importantly thank you @hannibalhadalittlelamb whose art got me to finally think deeper about the nature of Hannibal’s trial. Let’s begin.

Hannibal’s trial isn’t something I usually see discussed within the fandom space. And why would it be? We know the final verdict and we know that besides that everything works out in the end anyway. It’s an afterthought. So who would care? That’s like reading the first few chapters of a book to skip to the final one. Characters change and so does the story as a whole.

On @/hannibalhadalittlelamb’s post (here), their tags read that their depiction of Hannibal is leaning into OOC (out of character) territory. I disagree.

During Hannibal’s trial, we have to think about how it would have gone down. Actually. There was no possible way for Will to miss or be exempt from this trial. His coworkers and boss knew his strong relation to Hannibal and how their professional relationship had definitely, at some point or another, turned personal. The mutual attempts of murder had not been lost on anyone, but, of course, that made Will all the more personal a witness.

However, Will wants nothing to do with Hannibal.

I understand there is a popular theory going around that Will and Hannibal were in a sort of understanding during the trial, but, honestly? We see Will desperately wanting to remain kept away from Hannibal, to live a normal life with a wife and son. Hannibal throws a wrench into this whole ordeal and this trial, after what conspired between them overseas, leaves Will in the headspace and with the opportunity to quite literally never see Hannibal again in his life.

And after everything and with what Will thinks he wants, how could he deny that? Helping Hannibal rule into the insanity plea was not an act of mercy but an act of protection. Will more than anyone knows Hannibal should be kept under 24/7 surveillance and away from every person he could ever harm. Being ruled out of given the death penalty was the underlying bonus his conscience wouldn’t let him think too deeply about.

In court, you are sworn in on the bible, on God, to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth [...] So help you God.”. Both Will and Hannibal were undoubtedly sworn in, but considering the argument Hannibal’s legal team was using, would you trust a man under the insanity plea or his victim who is an FBI agent more? Right.

So, Will is given free rein in this courtroom to spin the story of him and Hannibal whichever way he pleases. Seeing what I mentioned before, Will is going to remove himself as far away from Hannibal as he can while still being able to confidentially and securely reveal everything without getting his hands dirty nor embarrassing himself. Hannibal does not get this luxury.

Hannibal is a man of his privacy. As many analyses have written and as many real psychologists have said while dissecting the headspace of Hannibal, his need to eat people is his need to control. The trauma Hannibal went through with Mischa, whether you know the depth of it or just the surface, is enough context to explain what happens next. Hannibal eats them. Attitude is Hannibal’s one basis of morals and consensus. “One should always eat the rude”.

To determine their fate and to consume them is him “playing God”, but at its core, it is Hannibal needing to be in control. We see the severity of his true, underlying, desperation come to light at a first glimpse with the gruesome death of Beverly Katz. Undoubtedly, this is one of his most haunting scenes and we see the insides(dissection) of Beverly as she had attempted to find in Hannibal by going through his home. By sneaking a glance under the person suit. His inner monster comes out in a rage during this murder. He is private and anything that anyone knows about Hannibal is what he has allowed them to live to be able to say so. Look at Will’s position once more.

What no one seems to realize is that, during this trial, Hannibal is not in control. Will is the spinster of their life, a life Hannibal used his truest of colors to paint, and ultimately watched it becomes torn to shreds in front of him. Remember, Will is sworn in during this trial. This does not necessarily mean he is telling the truth, but it means everyone thinks he is. It’s a play of tragedy and Hannibal and Will are the two lead star-crossed lovers.

The entirely of Hannibal and the world he has handed to Will on a sparkling platter is being dissected and shown to everyone. The story of the Chesapeake Ripper was undoubtedly massive. A criminal having not been caught for years that everyone seemed to know nothing about revealed to be one of the closest, inside links with the FBI themselves? Tale of the decade.

The spotlight is on Hannibal, but he is being puppeteered by Will without a say in it for himself.

Hannibal cracks as he’s poked and prodded and bare for the media to do as they like and Will sits by and says what he likes. Here is where we would see a sliver of what lays beneath their person suits. Hannibal’s impulsivity and monstrousness under his charming exterior and Will’s manipulative, isolatedness under his empathetic cloak.

We look at Hannibal. He would be torn to shreds from this. The porcelain pot that contains his beast has broken and shattered by the swatting hand of Will, someone he trusted and loved. The intruding eyes of the jury stay on him as he is diagnosed as insane while he considers himself to be in the best possible headspace he ever could be. Everything he told Will and what he considered truth from Will’s mouth was dismissed and disputed under oath.

Hannibal is embarrassed. People call him insane and lock him away at dig through his mind and his things without his permission with protruding needles and telescopes. Hannibal has to play nice to simply be allowed a working toilet and the books that he has collected himself. Anything and everything he writes and draws that he wants to send out is dissected and analyzed. He has no privacy. He is not allowed a toe out of line.

Looking back at Hannibal from season one, episode seven is a good one to compare from, and when we see him first after year years in isolation, we see plain as day these are not the same men. In season one, Hannibal is handsome and cunning enough so that he wiggles his way into the deepest, most protected parts of the FBI as one of the highest-ranked killers on their watch list. He is polite enough to even invite them to dinner and feed them the organs of his victims.

He’s slick and intelligent and Hannibal is the idea of a lifetime.

And then we come to the second half of season three.

Hannibal, at this point, has been isolated for three years and has been under painful scrutiny even longer. During this time, he’s had all the space he could get to rebuild the person suit, but the pieces won’t fit. It’s jaggedly put together and no matter how long he spends trying to perfect its construction to what it used to be, it isn’t what it used to be. Will had done that to him. Will had effectively broken Hannibal.

I see often the running gag that season three is immensely funnier and leaning much more into the comedy aspect of Hannibal during his interactions with Will and Alana and even jack to an extent. But this is not him being funny; this is Hannibal pushing limits.

Looking back to paragraph eleven [“To determine their fate and consume them…”] we come back to Hannibal’s need to control. Remember, in this space, Hannibal is shoved into line. He’s snappy and cynical here. This is Hannibal exercising his limits and testing patience. His acting out and making snide comments is nothing he can be punished for, but it clearly agitates them. Hannibal teeters just enough on the edge of annoyance so that his jabs still hit, but his privileges still remain.

This is his monster leaking through the cracks. Hannibal is desperate. He is grasping for a hold over these people he had looked down upon from his throne in the sky as God for so long. He is rude. This is both his shield and deception. It leaves Hannibal with the idea that he is effectively feeding them out of his hand, that he has them right where he wants them. When Hannibal does this, it is his last line of defense to keep himself from blowing up. Ruining it all.

Season three is not season one. He is gasping and hurt and that is what makes the Dolarhyde kill all the more powerful. The whiplash and bounce back with his and Will’s relationship is powerful and dangerous.

Will watching Hannibal with his dead stare, person suit thrown off the moment he decided to go with Hannibal into that car, as he is shot is groundbreaking. Hannibal can see Will. they have effectively switched positions. As though he were God, Will looks down on Hannibal’s suffering. When Will decides to fight Dolarhyde in retaliation,  this is the point it all cuts lose.

At that moment, Will has freed the beast. Hannibal has finally someone to take the reins of his monster whom he trusts. Because Hannibal never blamed Will, even during that time in his isolation, he was waiting. Waiting for Will because despite the betrayal and despite the hurt he loved him. All that time he loved him.

The Dolarhyde kill is the messiest one of the show, which makes it all the more powerful. Hannibal has--I don’t want to say “lost composure”--but he definitely has dropped the act of his togetherness. In this, Hannibal is free. So long he has spent trying to hold himself together, to fool those around him and take care of everyone and himself. 

It’s a common misconception that a person in a position of power, such as a CEO, would want to be in this position all of the time. In fact, it’s been shown that the human mind needs a healthy balance. A person who is pushed around on a day-to-day basis and has no control over their life would most likely enjoy having control over a person and vice versa.

God must be tired. Hannibal was. Wearing his person suit for years and years, with only a dangerous outlet to relieve the built-up tension of his monster. To place the control into Will’s hands is inevitable and the best relief for both of them. Hannibal in killing and Will in power.

In that final scene, Hannibal has surrendered control to Will while barring the entirety of what lay within and Will has a high enough apathy for this to no longer have any hold over him. They have switched their roles. Now, Will is the one pulling the strings and Hannibal is the one letting himself be maneuvered.

This trial was the turn of the tables. It was the biggest part of their character and the biggest foreshadowing for the finale.

In Florence, Hannibal has the hold over Will. In season two, Will has the hold over Hannibal. In season one, Hannibal has the hold over Will. This trial that has been left out was the missing piece to even their stance and to level their playing field, making it easiest for the two to blur.

The trial is effectively and consequently one of if not the most important scene that was missing from the show.

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 12

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephanie Meyer.

We’re heading into the Finale of book 1 folks... I have so many ideas for book 2... it’s going to be great. Hopefully!

“You get ready, you get all dressed up

To go nowhere in particular Back to work or the coffee shop Doesn't matter 'cause it's enough To be young and in love.”

Love by, Lana Del Rey

Bella was finally going to meet the Cullens officially. All day before I had left to go down there she paced, looking like she was going to be sick. All of the Cullens were cooking Italian for Bella. The only person who I was worried about was Rosalie. She was furious at Edward for even dating her, and when he went public with her... it set her over the edge. Emmett was chopping up lettuce and other vegetables for her while Rosalie begrudgingly held a bowl for him to put it in. I was sitting in the living room with Jasper, he was concentrated on reading some books. It was always entertaining to watch vampires read so quickly.

“Is she even Italian?” Rosalie asked.

“Her name is Bella, Rose... she has to be.” Emmett replied.

“Emmett... you thought I was french just because my name is Fleur. That food was really good though... not like I am complaining. I said.

“Okay I admit I messed up there but, I have to be right about this one.”

“Whatever you say Em.”

“Shut it short-stack.”

“At least I don’t hit my head through small doorways.”

He glared at me jokingly and then rolled his eyes.

“Rose, tell her to stop bullying me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that... it’s too funny to listen to.” Rosalie said.

“Ugh, I feel betrayed.” Emmett said, his hands going toward his un-beating heart.”

Rosalie smiled, it was soon dropped though. She must’ve kept thinking about Bella.

“She better eat this.”

“Don’t want to sound gluttonous here but... I was totally eat if she doesn’t.... it’s her lose.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh.”

“I will never stop my attempts to make you laugh.”

“Woo, get a whiff of that, here comes the human!” Rosalie said in a sing-songy voice.

Esme smiled widely, she quickly wiped her hands before making her way over to Bella.

“Bella, we’re making Italiano for you.”

“Bella, this is my Esme my mother for all intents and purposes.”

Emmett raised his hand and waved at Bella with a knife in it. Bella and Esme exchanged a bit of Italian.

“Hello again Bella, hope you’re well.” Jasper said.

“Hey, Jasper... hope you’re well too.”

“You’ve given us an excuse to use the kitchen again. We usual make meals for your sister when she stays over.” Carlisle said.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Esme added.

I could see a nervous look on Bella’s face, I probably should’ve told her they would cook for her. 

“Y-yeah absolutely.”

“She already ate.” Edward said, a tinge of attitude in his voice.

Rosalie stood there, anger was all of her face. She smashed the bowl she was holding in her hand.

“Pull back Edward, you’re throwing her to the wolves!” I thought.

“Damn Rose... remind me not to piss you off again.” I said.

She had to bite down a smile.

“Perfect...” She said.

“It’s just because... I know you guys don’t eat. I didn’t want to put you into any trouble.”

“Of course, that is very considerate of you.” Esme comforted.

“Just ignore Rosalie, I do.” Edward said.

“Yeah, let’s just keep pretending that this isn’t dangerous for all of us.”

“Look, I would never tell anybody about you guys... Besides, Fleur knows and you trust her.”

“It’s because I pick up a good energy from her... I know I can trust her with anything I tell her. She’s not a backstabber, she’s told me some of the stuff you’ve done. I’m sorry but, it made me sick the way you use to treat her. I hated seeing how upset she got telling the things you and your mother said to her”

My eyes widened before looking down at my legs... maybe me being here just reminded them of some of the things I told them. I wasn’t being much help to Bella right now. Jasper sensing my nerves rising, calmed them down. My uncomfortable mood slowly simmering down.

“Rosalie, stop... don’t worry Bella, she knows you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone.” Carlisle said.

“Well, the problem not is, you two have gone public now so...”

“Emmett.” Esme interrupted.” 

“No, she should know. The entire family could get implicated if this ends badly.”

“Badly, as in... I would become the meal.”

All of the Cullens in the house except for Rosalie and Esme started to laugh. I heard a few thumps before I saw Alice and Dean enter the room.

“Hi, Bella... I’m Alice.” Alice jogged toward Bella, giving her a hug.

“Hi.”

“Gosh, you do smell good.”

“Alice what’re you.”

“Don’t worry... Bella and I are going to be great friends.”

Dean looked like he was struggling to say something. I could tell he was uncomfortable to be around Bella right now.

“It-it’s a p-pleasure to meet you.” He said.

“Don’t mind Dean, he and Jasper are our newest vegetarians.” 

“It’s okay Dean, you won’t hurt her.”

The expression on Edward’s face made me want to laugh.

“Okay well, I’m going to show her around the house.”

“Okay.” Bella mumbled.

“I’ll see you soon.” Alice said.

“Okay.” Bella said again.

“So cute!” Esme gushed.

“I know!” Alice said in agreement.

“I think that went well.” Carlisle added.

“Rose, clean this up... now.” Esme said.

I leaned back into the couch, sinking into it. Jasper put his arm around my shoulder. “What an interesting visit.” I thought to myself.

Another day came and went by, Bella and I were on our way to the diner. It had been so long since I had been down there. I was in the passengers seat of her truck. I thought since we were going to the same place, we should probably drive in the same vehicle... During out drive she started talking about how Edward had been watching her sleep for months.

“Are you serious Bella? That’s kinda creepy.”

“I’m sure you have Jasper in your room with you at night.”

“Yeah but, he always asks me before he goes in there. We plan stuff like that out... He should be coming later tonight actually.”

“Okay... you have a point there.”

When we arrived at the diner and got out of the truck Mike approached us...

“Hey, you and Cullen huh? I don’t like it... I mean he looked at you like you’re something to eat.”

Bella and I looked at each other and smirked... he had no idea how correct he was in that statement. We walked past him and entered the dinner, dad was already waiting for us.

“Hey I hope you two don’t mind I ordered food for you guys already. I got you Bells a Spinach Salad and I got you a burger Fleur.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I said.

“Good picks dad. Even though, you should get a salad like me next time... cut back the steak.” Bella said.

“Hey, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

"Hey , Chief, the boys want to know... did you find anything by Queets river today?"  The waitress asked.

"Yeah, we found a bare human footprint... but it looks like whoever it is is headed east... the Kisap County Sheriff is gonna take over from here."

 "Okay, I hope whoever it is... they get them fast." The waitress then walked away, a group of men started talking within there group.

I turned around hearing something outside, Mike was doing something to a poor bush outside. I nudged Bella, trying to get her attention.

“Hey, someone’s flagging you outside.”

“It seems that Newton boys got a big smile for you.” Dad added.

Bella looked, and then turned back around, her face looked horrified.

“You can join them if you want.” I said smirking.

“Shut up you jerk... Mike is a good buddy though.” She said back.

Dad face flushed slightly... as if what he was going to say next was embarrassing.

“W-what about any other of the yahoo’s in town?”

“Dad... we aren’t going to talk about boys are we?” Bella said, her face starting to turn red too.”

“I guess not... with you at least.... How is everything going with you and Jasper, Fleur?”

I looked up confused, how did conversation about Bella’s relationships get turn into one about mine.

“It’s going well.”

“Good, I noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. That car ride you took was a long one.”

“Oh yeah we drove out for a while... we looked at the stars... it was really nice. He told me I seemed stress and just decided to take me somewhere.” I said, I looked down at my hands while smiling.

Dad seeing this smiled too.

“I always liked that boy, you got yourself I good one.”

“I know I do.” I said finally looking up at him.

“I was only bringing up boys with you Bella because... I feel like I leave you alone too much.”

“I don’t mind being alone dad, I’m like you in that way.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Timeskip: Later that night.

I was in my room, thinking about what dad had said earlier... He found a bare human footprint in the woods. Could it of been the same footprint of the woman who’s body I seemed to be suck in during my dreams? Or could it of been someone else entirely? The wind from my open window got harsher for a second, I then heard a familiar soft thud on my floor. I turned my head, locking my eyes with his.

“What’s going on in that head of yours love?” Jasper asked

“Just thinking of something my dad said earlier...”

“What is it?”

“My dad said he found a bare human footprint down at Queets river today... He said it was heading east. Have you guys found anything yet?”

“No, we haven’t found anything, it’s starting to get frustrating. Have you had anymore dreams about those vampires?” 

“Nope... if it is them though, I have a feeling that print was just a trap to throw them off course.”

“I do too... hey, my family and I plan on playing baseball tomorrow, since Edward is inviting Bella... I thought you could come too.”

“Yes, I would love too, watching Emmett climb and crash into things is my favorite part of the game. That and all those tricks you do with the bat.”

“It’s a plan then, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” I pecked his lips before getting comfortable in my bed, I was still a human... I needed some sleep. I laid there, Jasper behind me holding close.

“Tomorrow is going to be a fun day.” I thought to myself, before drifting off to sleep.