#there's another dead one in the hallway i kind of want to bring it to him but idk How it dies yk

[frodo-of-the-nine-fingers]

i'm legitimately so proud of my bathroom spider, he ate an entire cockroach on his own

[peachesofteal]

pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty

"Oh, you came!"

What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"

"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.

"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.

"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.

You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.

Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.

"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.

"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.

"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.

"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.

His heart soars.

His brain panics.

"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.

Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.

He'll be keeping you.

He'll be keeping you both.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Bed III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: There's a storm

Magda wakes suddenly to the sound of thunder and she jolts.

It's quite a rude awakening and she groans loudly, pulling one of her pillows over her face.

It's kind of impressive how Pernille can sleep through it, still snoozing on the other side of the bed as another crash of thunder echoes through the house and rain pounds on the window.

Magda's used to the rain. She didn't live in London for years not to become desensitised to the sound of rain.

It's the thunder that always gets her. England was known to be fairly rainy but rainy didn't mean storms so thunder and lightning wasn't something that Magda was really good at tuning out.

She sighs, rolling over onto her other side as another round of thunder cracks in the sky.

So far, Germany was trying to make up for the lack of storms in Magda's life.

It was so unfair that Pernille could sleep through this when Magda can't.

She flicks on her bedside lamp, sitting up in bed and reaching for her phone. It's clear she won't be getting any sleep until this storm passes so she might as well get comfy.

Aimlessly scrolling on social media is easy so Magda occupies herself with that for a while before halting.

This is a thunderstorm.

You don't like thunderstorms.

You're a good sleeper most of the time, dead to the world like Pernille is but you've always had some kind of sixth sense when it came to storms, always somehow waking up before the first crash of thunder.

You waking up usually leads to you in the Big Bed but you're still in that weird in between where you've semi-weaned yourself off of it but still get in from time to time.

Magda shivers as she pulls back the covers, the early morning chill causing goosebumps to erupt all over her arms.

She's glad that she and Pernille had gotten a house that had carpet all over the upstairs because she's sure the chill of the floor would have been so much worse if it wasn't.

Regardless, she makes her way to your room, opening the door only slightly in case you actually are asleep.

You're not because your bed is empty and Magda can see you turning your nightlight on and off underneath the bed in time with the thunder rumbling.

"You okay there, princesse?"

You let out a little shriek of shock before Magda's temporarily blinded by you flashing your torch right in her eyes.

"'M fine, Morsa," You say though your voice is strained and you're very much not fine.

"Uh-huh."

It's a very tight squeeze and extremely embarrassing when Magda's bones pop but eventually, she drags herself under your bed with you.

"Why are we hiding?" She whispers, knocking her shoulders against yours.

"I'm not hiding!" You deny while you curl closer until you've practically wiggled your way under her.

"Okay," Magda says," So we're not hiding. What are we doing?"

With puffed up cheeks, you reply," Waiting for the storm to go."

"Okay."

Magda lies with you for a while. She didn't bring her phone with her but she knows it must be bordering on at least half an hour before she speaks again.

The rain hasn't let up and neither has the thunder and every time, you flinch and lean further into her.

"This isn't too comfortable," Magda says to you softly," Laying on the floor like this, is it?"

You shake your head.

"How about we head back to bed?"

Your head shakes even more furiously. The thought of going back to bed makes your tummy feel icky and bad. You don't want to go back to bed at all.

"No, I think we should," Magda insists and you whine.

"Morsa...Morsa, please no."

Magda crawls out from under your bed, dragging you with her before hoisting you up into her arms.

You expect her to tug you back into your bed, pulling your blankets all the way up to your chin and telling you soothing words.

But she doesn't though.

She keeps a hold of you while exiting your room, across the hallway and into her own.

Momma is a lump in the bed, fast asleep even though the storm hasn't let up yet and Morsa slides in, placing you in the space between her and Momma.

She takes your night light from you, setting it off to the side before fluffing up a pillow to slip under your head.

Magda leans forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Big Bed cuddles are always best when there's a storm going on," She whispers to you.

[rowretro]

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕?

✧warnings: fluff, slut shaming, kissing

♡synopsis: The bad boy Riki, has fallen for a rather girly girl, the kind of girl that many girls wouldn't expect guys to fall for. Y/n in her stylish outfits which were always admired by all, had the attention of Riki, and that seemed tick certain girls off.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Riki groaned as he saw you walk down the hallway. One would assume it's because of how much you dress up just to go to school, or the supermarket. That's not the reason. Fuck he loves it, your style, your creative, the fact that half your accessories, or very pretty clothes were made by you. He loves that you're like a fresh wave of energy that suddenly brings a dry, dead, withering flowers, to life again. Sometimes, though, the boys love your outfits, for all the wrong reasons.

"Y/n for fucksake pull your skirt down!" Riki said, audible enough for just you to hear, he pulled you to himself. His eyes scanning the pink, delicate shimmer on your eyelids, Pretty, spikey eyelashes that were perfectly stuck on, Oh and how could he forget those glossy, kissable lips? a few, tiny iridescent hearts evident. Pink bows decorating your braided hair. "but why? it looks cute when it's short" she said, it's not like she was ever going to need to bend, she can't anyway, not with the 5 inch heels her feet carry around all day.

"You want to know what your outfit is missing? a nice leather jacket. Here have mine." He said, as he dressed you in his large leather jacket, ignoring your protests. You looked adorable in such a big jacket. You had no problem with leather jackets either, but this one specific Riki jacket made you look ridiculous. But there were people who had a bigger problem with it. Hwang Mihi.

Hwang Mihi would be described as a conventionally attractive, powder faced bitch. From her ridiculously rolled up short skirt, cakey makeup, and extremely bitchy personality. The girl had a problem with everyone and everything, specifically you. She's heard more people praise you than they praise her, you have more followers than her, and overall, you have the man she wants. Nishimura Riki.

"Rikiiii please~ it'll look good on you I swear!" you whined as Riki frowned. "I'm not wearing lipstick!" the man whined as you whined again "It's not a lipstick! it's a lip gloss stick it's not like you'll turn in to barbie with one swipe, idols wear this you know?" you reasoned as he sighed, leaning into you face. With a smile, you carefully applied the creamy, lip gloss stick, his eyes locked on your focused face, the close proximity making his heart beat faster than Usain Bolt ever ran. It fucking pissed Mihi off.

"How the fuck does a pink barbie carbon copy like you have MY man?!" She yelled, yanking at your braided hair, her tug so tight you had to bite her wrist to get out of her hold. "UGH U PASTE FACED FUCKER- U RUINED MY BRAID!" you yelled as suddenly a different person slapped the shit out of you. You could've sworn your brain left your body then entered it again. your head hit the wall behind you painfully hard, but as you pulled away to even process the first slap, you were painfully pushed up against the wall, and there before you was a much bigger male.

"You're such a pussy! you can't fight me yourself so you're using some guy who's dick you sucked?!!!" she asked, clearly knowing the man was one of the seniors that she used to be fwb with. Just for that, the male slapped her again, chocking her. "It's that fucking tongue isn't it?! If I rip it out you'll stop talking right?" Mihi asked as you frowned. "I have another way to silence her..." the male said with a smirk, his grip on your throat tightening as he tried to place his lips on hers.

Before his lips could even reach her lips, The male fell back, some of his teeth knocked out, his mouth bloody. "The fuck are you doing to my girlfriend?!!!" Riki asked as y/n stared at him in shock, heck even the girls were shook, they were fucking scared, never has Mihi ever seen her crush so pissed off, it was fucking scary. "J-just uh..." "Just what?! beating my future wife?! do u want to be scalped and dipped into lemon juice?!!!" He asked cracking his knuckles as the girl stuttered and ran off with her minions.

Riki didn't even get the chance to check on you, as your horrified scream filled the hallways. "Fuck y/n how bad did he hurt you?" he asked, kneeling down before you as you stared at your forehand in horror "MY NAIL SNAPPED! SO LONG OF HARD WORK BROKE JUST LIKE THAT." she exclaimed as Riki stood up, sighing. "I'll take that as a yes" he mumbled.

"Girlfriend? Future wife? what was that about?" you asked staring up at him as he smiled "I guess you called call it my confession..." he said as you frowned "Try again" you said as Riki snickerred "Y/n... I love you, and I want to fucking show you that everyday, so give me a chance baby" he said as you blinked. She felt her own blush, he's perfect, everything she needed, but never did she think your dream man would love you.

"Hmm but what if I don't want to?" you teased. as Riki helped you up "My sister knows a great nail tech, she's expensive but worth the price, how bout you treat your pretty hands for some prettier nails, and I'll pay all the expenses?" he asked as the girl pouted. "You don't need to bribe me like that... let me do it instead." You said, then kissed his lips, his eyes widening in shock as you smiled. "Lets skip school im gonna treat you to the best shopping spree you'd ever experience." He said as his arm snaked around your waist.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[batsvnte]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 — You could only stifle a small fit of laughter as you read the text on your screen. In front of you was another one of the small cats that were roaming about this section of the space station. After the hell you went through to get here, it was an temporary safe spot before you had to leave it for the time being. An large room filled with different kinds of creatures that would be lounging around the place, making small talk with one another or sleeping. You lowered the phone to see another cat that was very different from the rest.

This one in particular that you found that was growing an attachment towards you. This time, it’s fur was an a dark grey like a cloudy sky before it turns into rain. The eyes were full of life unlike the other one, and it had an red mark under its right eye. There was also a bit of an constellation on its tail that you were still trying to identity.

The little one stays somewhere in your vicinity. Not to far but not to close. It likes to feel your presence no matter what you were doing, and on some occasions you would always find it waiting outside the door patiently sitting there for you. It was adorable, you would think as it trails after you. Whenever you turn your attention over to check on how it was doing, it always had its eyes on you. Shimmering lightly as those big eyes stared up at you wondering what you were gonna do next. Having ideas of going to the archives to record things that either of you found.

A small flicker of movement caught your attention one day as you were down in the research section. Bringing your attention over to find Sesame (the ‘dead inside’ cat that you showed to March when you were wandering about the space station that she proudly named) peeking around the corner. It was a routine at this point. Sesame would stare you down from across the hallway/room, then it would make its way over to you to practically cling to your side and follow you around.

Hence why you would have to keep a close eye on Sesame and Rice Dumpling whenever they are around each other. You could tell they were trying to be on their best behavior with you around, but you could hear the small bits of bickering between the two of them. It wasn’t all too serious at best. It was small things but you paid attention to what they were saying.

“Move… I wanna sleep there”

“You ate all of the food..”

“There’s three of us.. move over..”

And now here you were standing in front of Sesame who placed itself onto an high counter. There was no change in those eyes of the little critter, but by its body language you could tell that it wanted to be in your arms.

“You have to be nicer to the other critters, especially Rice Dumpling”

It only stares at you. No movement, no sound. Like your words were just background noise for it to listen to mindlessly. You still kept talking, hoping to get Sesame to make sense of what it was doing. After all it was chasing down Rice Dumpling during the middle of an task and almost trapped it in a corner.

To much of your surprise, a critter jumps up to the edge of the counter. Words coming to an complete stop as you looked towards the new critter that lazily stretched it limbs. It was bigger than the rest, even as big as Sesame. Though it’s pure white fluffy fur would make it seem like Sesame was a baby compared to it. A red ribbon that was tied into an little bow was on the near end of its tail.

“Hi there! Where’d you come from?”

You reached out to the critter, which in response presses its head against the palm of your hand. Eager to let you pet it and give it attention. The moment didn’t last as long as either of you hoped. It an few quick seconds, Sesame nudged against the fluffy critter before fully pushing it off the counter.

“Oh my god Sesame!”

Sesame didn’t bother to check on the critter it just pushed off. It only looks to you before now jumping down from the counter and taking its leave as if it didn’t try to commit an voluntary crime.

[enapoe]

ᨳ dance lesson

synopsis - After the hot senior jake tries to court you, (aka flirt with you because he's bored) you lie and tell him your type are dancers

genre - highschool!niki x fem!reader

warnings - jake being annoying !!NOTT PROOFREAD! I dknt eeven know what this is

word count - 1.3k

You rolled your eyes.

"You know I want you" he said, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers together. "No you don't Jake, you just dumped another girl and are looking for an easy rebound," you unlaced your fingers and brushed your hair back "you'll just have to look for someone else." Today marked day four of the hot senior— Jake— flirting with you nonstop. He seemed to have the notion that every girl would drop dead if he spared them a single glance. He had the face, charm, charisma, if it wasn't for his personality and play-boy tendencies you would've fallen for him too.

"What do you want in a guy?" Jake started chasing after you in the hallway, "y/n I know you've never had a boyfriend, so what's your ideal type?" Ok, ouch, didn't have to bring your non-existent love life into this. After the initial sting of Jake's unintentional burn, you stopped to think. He has to be nice, charming, and kind to his mom. The bare minimum, really. "I don't know, maybe a dancer?" You shrugged and said something completely random knowing Jake could barely do a tumble roll (no offence).

Jake looked taken aback. "You can't dance, what's so hot about dancers?" You were now in front of your first block class. Jake doesn't even take pottery so for an hour‐thirty minutes he can't bother or talk to you. You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time this morning "Jake, seriously, give it up" you opened the door of the classroom and slammed it in his face. Aggressive? Maybe, but anything to get this Aussie away from your face.

"Literally, you date him!" You pushed Eunchae a bit because of her constant insistence of you giving Jake a chance. "No way! He's not my type" she rolled her eyes "who's your type anyway?" You asked, she never shows interest in any guy at school and she's drop dead gorgeous so… plus, school is often filled to the brim with mid guys anyway.

"Um… I kinda like Yang Jungwon from class 3" she chuckled a bit and tucked a strand of hair out of her face. "Really?! He's a grade older though" you and eunchae started talking more about Jungwon and Jake as you two entered the cafeteria.

"They're friends aren't they?" Eunchae asked "Jake and Jungwon?" you started to think about Jake and his massive group of friends. Most of them were fake but he had six close friends— if you recall. "Yeah, I think they've been friends for a while. Kinda cool how he has friends in the upper and lower classes" you placed your bag down at a table and sat down. Your legs hurt from running in cross country yesterday.

"I'll grab food for the both of us today" Eunchae smiled and left. What an angle, must know you're in pain from sprinting one hundred metres yesterday. You pulled out your phone and looked on instagram, the reels make you feel like a baby unaware of time while scrolling through hundreds of videos. "Hey" someone said, and sat down next to you. At first you thought it would be Jake. But after another beat of silence you knew this couldn't be the loud frat-boy energy Jake emitted everywhere he went. Instead when you looked up it was Niki. The Japanese boy in your pottery class. He had a more timid aura— quiet and reserved.

"Hi," you replied. "What's up?" You're still confused why the boy is sitting next to you. He sighed, you tilted your head in confusion "sorry. My friends— Jake actually, wanted me to talk to you" he confessed, a little laugh was bubbling deep in your throat. He looked up after looking down in his lap "well this is the worst first impression" he smiled awkwardly, "I'm Niki" he introduced himself, "I know who you are niki" he was shocked— apparently he thought you didn't know him— even though you've been classmates since junior high. "I don't have a memory of a goldfish Niki" he nodded and looked away embarrassed "tell Jake I'm not interested," Eunchae came back and placed your trays of food down.

"Actually I was wondering if you were down for some dance classes?" He said "Text me" he placed his number on your table and ran— dashed— back to his table.

The note had messy boy handwriting. Aka really wobbly and almost unreadable. "What's Niki doing talking to yah?" Eunchae began eating her fresh rice and kimchi "I don't really know," you looked at his number. Dance lessons? Did Jake tell him your type? "I think Jake made him talk to me," you scooped some soup into your mouth. "Something about dance lessons? Should I do it?" You handed the note to Eunchae. "'Private finance lessons with me (niki)'" she read the note aloud and slammed it down onto the table. "Yes! Take the lessons, I think Niki's been dancing before he could talk. Boy knows how to dance."

"Fuck, am I actually doing this?" You huffed and played with the hem of your workout top. It's now or never. Pushing the huge doors that separated you from your impending doom, you slowly stepped in, you took in the clean white walls, fresh smell of the lobby and lastly the posters everywhere. Posters of famous dancers, the dance teachers themselves, even kpop idols were everywhere. The crisp fall air outside brushed you slightly as someone stepped into the lobby. "Oh, um— uh, one second" the crunchy way of talking could only belong to someone as awkward as Niki. "Hey, I can't believe I'm actually doing this but, yeah. I'm here for a lesson," Niki was beside you, wearing a black sweater that was frayed at the sleeves and arms. His cargo pants seemed twice the size of you and his black hat covered his eyes. Even with his awkward personality around you, he had confidence— especially here at his dance studio.

Geez, maybe dancers are hot.

"Sorry for the mess," Niki placed his bag down and pushed some stuff away from the front of the mirror. "You actually came— which I didn't really expect… I didn't get a chance to rehearse anything." He played with his fingers nervously and looked up at you through his eyelashes. "It's ok! I–I don't know," you scratched the top of your head "I can leave?" Maybe this was a mistake, he clearly doesn't have a choreo or even a genre of dance I could learn-. "No! Please don't" Niki cut in before your mind got the better of you. "I have a pair dance we could dance to, it's beginner friendly and you get to…" he trailed off "what?" Was he blushing? "You get to dance with me" he finished and finally looked at your eyes. "Perfect"

You're an awful dancer. Correction: embarrassingly horrible. Your mom always said you have two left feet, guess she was right. "Ok, I think we should take five," Niki says, grabbing a Gatorade water bottle out from his bag and squeezing water into his mouth. "I'm sorry," your face is red from an hour of dancing. Somehow this is harder than cardio. "You're wasting time teaching an old dog new tricks" Niki turns and faces you "what?" He doesn't think you're wasting his time. He's had the most fun dancing with you then any dance partner he's been partnered with for the last two years. He won't say this out loud though. "You're fun to dance with y/n".

"Oh, I'm not very good but thanks" you smiled at him, eyes creasing and teeth on full display. God he could've kissed yopu right there. Actually, he did.

Nishumura Riki has put his lips of yours. Holy shit, holy shit. He got scared because of yoir silence and pulled away. "Im sorry, i didn't mean to that just now. I would ask you to dinner first—like a gentlemen—but apparently I can't even control regular human emotions around you-"

You giggled as he kept stressing over the kiss. He looked over with wide eyes after hearing you laugh.

You stood on your tippy toes and places a sweet kiss to his pink lips, stealing his breath away. After you broke off the kiss he kepr chasing your lips with his own.

"In a world full of boys, you are a gentlemen Nishmura"

-----

Been in the drafts a lil to long

Truth be told, i have no idea where that reference is from

Not proofread at all b t dubs , love yall even tho i disapeard off the face of the eartg 4 months

How are yalls 2024 going? Well for me i have been breaking out so much, um its hard for me to feel pretty. But 2024 is gonna my year /j 😍😍

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part four

Words: 622 | Rating: E (not this part but previous parts so consider it as a whole) | CW: mentions of blood and death, past alcohol consumption/hangover

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Steve scoffs. "Magic isn't real."

"No?" The stranger's eyebrow raises and his eye light up in amusement. "Then how did I get rid of your hangover just now, genius?"

Rolling his eyes, Steve's ready to fire a smartass answer right back, but he pauses. Because he doesn't actually have an answer to the question. There's no logical explanation for the blinding light, the glowing eyes, the sudden lack of hangover. At least none that his brain can find. Which leaves him with the illogical answers, like fucking magic apparently. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest. "Not magic," he mutters finally but the response is weak and lacking conviction.

Honestly, though? He doesn't have time for this. There's a body in another room not even twenty feet away from him and he's still covered in blood. The hangover being gone is the least pressing of his worries.

The stranger in the doorway clicks his tongue in thought as one of his hands moves up to absently twirl a curl around his finger. "I suppose not magic is actually probably more accurate," he muses. "It was just the first thing I thought of that you might understand."

Which helps Steve's confusion exactly none, but he decides it doesn't matter as he moves to push past the stranger with a gruff "whatever, dude", finally feeling up to dealing with the murder scene he woke up to but with no clearer idea of how he's doing that. As their shoulders brush when Steve passes by, a jolt of electricity shoots down his arm, ending painfully at his fingertips and leaving him reeling to the side as the stranger does the same. Two sets of wide eyes stare into each other, and finally the stranger looks as confused as Steve feels.

"I am so having words with Joyce later…" the stranger mutters to himself as Steve gets control of himself again and continues down the hallway.

There's footsteps following after him, stopping a couple of steps back as they reach the threshold to the living room. "I can help with this, too, you know. If you want," the stranger offers and it's enough to get Steve peering over his shoulder.

"What? Gonna magic it away too?" he sneers, because a hangover is one thing, but a dead body? Surely this guy has people that will miss him if he stops showing up. Making it all disappear would solve nothing.

Stepping around Steve and pointedly making sure they don't touch again, the stranger looks around the room for a moment before it lights up in the same blinding way as the bathroom. When it clears, leaving Steve blinking away spots from his vision, the blood splatters across the room are gone and the mangled body in the center of the room is noticeably less mangled. "I can't bring him back, but I can make it look less like a murder," the stranger says as he turns back towards Steve, wide, dimply grin back in place.

Steve gapes at the scene in front of him, brain desperately trying to process what just happened and coming up blank. Because blood doesn't just disappear and bodies don't just suddenly knit themselves back together, right? It's impossible. But so is everything else Steve has come across this morning, so maybe he's just missing some very vital world information. "What the fuck?" he mumbles so softly he can barely hear himself. "What are you? Who are you?"

Something in the stranger's gaze softens as he looks at Steve this time, replacing the (admittedly kind of asshole-ish) amusement that's been dancing around his features all morning. "Name's Eddie," he replies. "And the easiest explanation, I suppose, would be that I'm your guardian angel."

tags: @chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddie @penny00dreadfull @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd

i tried to tag everyone that asked, but a couple aren't pulling up, sorry! if you want added, just let me know <3

[scenteddelusion5]

can you write a zestial x reader where the reader is an angel and they have a secret relationship but the seraphim found out and b an ned her from heaven

A Daring Creature -Part 1

Zestial x angel fem reader

Note: AHHH!!! I LOVE this!! Also why don't we have yellow text colours! I also had to take a LOT of liberties writing Zestial because we don't know much about him.

Warning: inacurate middle English

Word count: 1880

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Zestial was more than 400 years old, he lost the real count a LONG time ago. What he would never lose count of was how long he'd known her. To be fair it wasn't all THAT long ago, only 42 years ago, but he swore to himself he'd never forget that day.

He was hiding out in his mansion on his territory during extermination day when he heard a loud pang outside. Something must've hit the ground very hard, if it was a sinner they would probably already be dead by this point and if it was an exterminator, he didn't want to cross paths with them. So instead he hid deeper, in the basement of his mansion.

The day went on without a hitch and Zestial could leave his manor again to check what happened. While he was exploring his garden, he found a strange creature had crashed into the path, having destroyed the beautiful tiles. She had giant white wings and a yellow halo above her head. small wounds and bruises adorned her body with golden blood flowing out of them, they were, however, healing quickly. She wasn't dead.

Was this angel an exterminator? No, she didn't wear their uniform nor did she hold a black hallow like her military sisters, then why was she here. Zestial had many questions, but first he had to decide. Was it worth bringing in this angel to gain their favour even though she could become a threat later on?

She didn't seem to have any angelic weapons on her, she wouldn't be able to kill him... Zestial decided to bring her in and laid her down on a bed in one of his guest rooms. He designated one of his demon contracts to take care of her and warn him when she wakes up.

Y/n woke up with a headache, the last thing she remembered was falling face first into the ground and now she was in a bed? How did she get here. She slowly sat up, looking around the room, it was decorated with red, black and greenish yellow decor. Did this mean she made it to hell? Another look over her eyes landed on a man standing in the corner, he was short, wore a butler-like uniform and had a web in his hair. What she assumed to be a demon, had red skin and black horns.

"H-hello," she spoke but the demon stayed quiet. "Where am I?"

The demon looked at his watch. "Please put on this attire and wait here. I'll be informing master that you're awake." And with that the demon left without answering her question.

On the chair laid a simple black dress, nothing fancy but it also wasn't a rag. She slowly got out of bed, being careful with her headache, and changed out of her very badly damaged angel attire.

Who was this guy's master? The demon who lived there seemed to be very well of and thus powerful. What kind of mess did she get herself in now?

A knock came from the door, "lady, if you're finished changing please come out."

When she walked out, she saw the same demon waiting on her in the hallway.

"Follow me."

Looking around the hallways, the building looked like it was decorated by someone from th 17th century. Besides all the luxury paintings and dressers, what really stood out were the strange spiderweb motives all around the building, from the wallpapers to the candle chandeliers.

They ended up in front of a pair of doors that were at least 3 meters (10 feet) tall. The tops were arched and the handles looked like spiders.

The demon knocked on the giant doors. "She's here, sir."

"Thee can enter!"

The demon didn't react, so Y/n opened the door just enough to walk through. Inside was an office. The wooden walls as well as the furniture had flowery carvings in them, the fabric used for the cushiony parts of the furniture had web patterns in them and the candle light glowed green instead of yellow.

On the armchair behind the desk sat a tall figure, he had four green glowing eyes, a dark black cloak wrapped around his body, spider held the place of where his bowtie was supposed to be and a hat sat upon his head making his already tall figure even taller.

"Please, sitteth down." The man conjured up two cups of thee, one of which he took a sip from. "Now, wherefore is there an angel down here? Thee aren't an exterminator."

"I was just really curious about hell and kind off... Snuck down." Y/n awkwardly looked around the room avoiding eye contact with the demon in front of her. "What is an exterminator?"

Zestial choked on his tea hearing her question. "Does thou not knoweth?"

"No," she answered.

"Alloweth me to proposeth a deal." He got her attention again after she started to search around the room again. "I shall bid thee about the exterminations and hell, in turneth thee bid me in detaileth about how thee did get here." Zestial held out his hand, it became surrounded by glowing webs.

"Uhm sure, but we don't have to do the hand thingy." She laughed it off. "So when I first arrived in heaven three years ago, I started to wonder what hell was like. Nobody could give me a concrete answer, not even the seraphim. I made it my mission to find out what's it like. After two years, I realised a group of angels went down every year..."

"Hey lute!" Y/n ran up to the older angel. "Where were you yesterday?" "Work." "For a whole twenty four hours?" She asked. "Yes," Lute sighed, "what do you want Y/n?" "I was just curious." "Too curious, it's none of your business where and how I work."

"I knew I just had to follow them, so the next time they gathered, I snuck through the gates and jumped after them. On the way down, I had a bit of an accident, my wing got caught on the metal tip of a strange tower and it ripped through me. And that's how I ended up falling into the ground."

"I supposeth I shouldst hold up my own endeth. Every year, the heavens sendeth down an army of exterminators." As Zestial was telling her this Y/n's eyes widened. "Thy sisters cometh down to slaught'r."

"I... I know Lute and the others aren't model angels, but I doubt they would-"

"T's the thruth." Zestial stood up from his desk. "Anon, t's better thee leaveth. I wanteth not beest the targeteth of thy sisters."

He was about to snap his fingers when Y/n yelled, "WAIT!"

He stopped.

"How about another deal? No one of the angels know I'm here and I have a strong alibi. You seem like a powerful demon and I probably wouldn't survive the streets of hell. So, I stay with you for a year, you show me around and I'll give you... Whatever you want...?" Even though she talked a million miles a minute, he still understood her.

"I aught to want?" He considered it for a few seconds. "Dealeth." Zestial held out his hand and the glowing webs were back.

"You haven't said what yet..." But y/n didn't get an answer. "Fine, ONE thing you want."

Zestial nodded his head.

"Deal."

She shook his hand and for a slight second, his whole appearance seemed to change. The man became even taller, spiders crawled around his body and webs covered their intertwined hands. And then it was gone again, like it never happened.

"Edward shall be in chargeth of thy careth. I expecteth thee to never grise foor of these grounds unless thee has't mine own permission to doth so. Thee may taketh thy leave now." He shoed her away.

Y/n walked out of her office finally realising the gravity of the situation. She just gave a DEMON to make her do or get anything he wanted from her without any limits, except that he could only do so once of course. How stupid could she be? At least now she had a safe place to stay and a very intimidating tour guide.

A week went by and Y/n hadn't been able to explore hell at all. She was stuck in the manor, barely even allowed into the garden. At least she grew closer to the demon butler Edward.

At first the man was distant and cold but he slowly opened up to her. His wife and kids had gone to heaven while he was cast down for protecting them. Zestial had offered the safe and comfortable job as his butler and Edward accepted.

She also learned he was a lot more of a joker than he made himself out to be. When Y/n was helping him prepare dinner for only them two, which they decided was going to be pizza, she had tried to spin the dough and toss it in the air. It went horribly wrong, the dough landing on top of her face. Edward laughed so hard he started crying, after a while the man decided to try it too, only to end up in the same predicament.

Zestial was aware the two had grown closer, he didn’t mind, however. It meant that she wouldn’t bother him and go to Edward for everything. What he wasn't aware of was for the fact that Y/n had made it her mission to create fun activities in an otherwise boring mansion.

One day, Zestial was walking down the corridor to go and ask Ed to pick up an important package for him, only to find the strangest display in the hallway.

"This is going to go horribly wrong," the butler stated.

"It'll be fine, loosen up!" She laughed.

Edward sighed, "If you get hurt, I'm not patching up your wounds."

"I'll take that risk."

What Zestial saw was that the angel had tied sponges to her shoes and tried to skate around on the wet and soapy marble floor. He was just about to speak up when she slipped and fell back. Her back hit his waist, he quickly caught her.

"What art thee doing, î̷̟n̷̰͆͜s̴̢͍͒o̷̖͐l̷̟͇̂͠é̷͖n̶̙̫̑t̶̲̘̅͝ angel?" The overlord was glaring at her.

"I'm sorry sir, uh... Zestial sir." Y/n looked down at her soapy boots. "But you haven't showed me around all the fun stuff in hell, so I decided to make the fun!"

"I can't even but now," he explained, "Everything in doth timeth."

"Then I'll keep finding fun things to do."

Zestial sighed. Maybe this angel was more work than she was worth. "Fine, I shall taketh thee out tomorrow morning." He caved. "Doth not maketh me regreth it."

"YES!"

That nights Zestial was pondering about his angel guest while looking for a big robe. She was quite bothersome but then again, he had made the deal to show Y/n around. Although, the manor had been much more livelier in the week she had been there. Almost every day, he would walk through the hallways and hear laughter, which was a stark difference from before. The manor used to be eerily quiet, maybe she wasn't too bad after all.

Part 2

Masterlist/request guidelines

[icybluepenguin]

The Sweetest Screams

Summary: Astarion relives a night of torture under Cazador. You wake him up and help him feel better by telling him how you see all the parts of him. Inspired by his lines “I am more than what you made me” and “I feel safe with you. Seen.” This is kind of exploring how he got there.

Pairing: Astarion x gender neutral Tav/reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Whump, Torture, Graphic Description, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Cazador, Godey, breaking bones, cuts, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Comfort, feeling seen & safe, Praise, Love, Astarion Has A Bad Time, I'm Sorry, but then he gets put back together again with lots of love and fluff

Note: Extra extra thanks to @brabblesblog and @leomonae for taking their time to beta & edit this. 💙 Go check out their work, they're amazing!

This link will take you past the torture, if you want to read the comfort/fluffy part: Skip hurt only comfort (goes to Ao3)

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“Astarion…”

The dark singsong voice in his head sent a shiver down his spine. It was cloyingly sweet and full of false enticement. 

He balled up the shirt he'd been working on and hurried to hide it, together with his needle and thread. He didn't want his siblings to find them; he knew he wouldn't be able to come back for a while. 

“Come to me, child.”

Astarion had no choice but to obey. 

What had he done wrong? Has he not been the very model of obedience lately?  Even his siblings had noticed, calling him the master's little lapdog. Had he not brought back a beautiful half-elf for his master? 

He huffed at himself.  As if it ever mattered what he had or had not done. There was only one thing that tone of voice meant. 

Astarion knew where to find him. Even without the vague sense he always had of where his sire was, Astarion knew what to expect tonight.  

The master was bored. 

Astarion made his way down dark hallways, his feet moving on their own.  He felt like he was floating.  He passed no one on his way– was that his mistake tonight? He had come back too early, before the others, and so was the only target? 

The stench of the kennels wafted over him as he opened the door.  Decay, despair, rust.  Fetid and heavy.

The master was there, as expected, sitting in an ornate chair that had been dragged in just for the occasion.  A body slumped on a table next to him; still alive, but barely.  The man Astarion had brought back not two hours ago, now with a huge, dripping gash on his neck.  The scent of blood made Astarion feral, his hunger roaring through his dread. 

It was going to be a long night. 

“Is this how you greet your master, boy?” 

The master dragged a finger through the oozing blood on the body, bringing it to his lips to lick it off.  Astarion's mouth watered, his whole body aching for a taste of it. 

Astarion knelt, back straight and head bowed. “Good evening, Master.  H-how can I serve you?”  He hated the tremble in his voice he could never get rid of.  Hadn't he been tortured enough by now? Shouldn't it not bother him any longer?  Why must he be so weak? 

“Remove your clothes.  We do not want them getting stained, do we?  They are already pathetic.”

And whose fault is that, Astarion couldn't help but think, and then cowered into his own mind, stripping his shirt off faster, as if it would erase his blasphemous thought. He folded his clothes with trembling hands, quickly, terrified to be seen as anything but obedient.  

“We will make lovely music for the master, won't we, little one?” Godey chattered as Astarion placed his folded bundle somewhere the spray of blood wouldn't reach it.  “We are so lucky he is joining us tonight.  We will put on a good show for him.”  

The skeleton’s genial, eager voice washed over Astarion as he planted his feet, shivering uncontrollably, his eyes unfocused and pointed at the wall. There was nothing to do now but endure. He couldn't stop this. 

“Start with his face, Godey. I want to see his lovely features covered in bruises.”  The master took another drink from the body, blood coating his lips. “And you, Astarion. Stand still and scream prettily for me.”

Godey's bare finger bones creaked as they folded into a fist.  Astarion closed his eyes, knowing that bracing for the blow was useless, but the instinct hadn't died yet.  Pain bloomed across his cheek; he barely had time to gasp before the other side was punched - harder.  It split his lip, his own blood bright on his tongue.  

He swayed on his feet, dizzy and starving.  When was the last time he ate?  The scent of rich, fresh blood filled the air, the master playing with his meal as he watched.  Astarion, so, so desperately hungry, almost bared his fangs for a taste.  He could never touch that blood, even if he were not too weak to take it.  But he wanted it so badly even the cracking of his cheekbone from the rain of blows didn't ache as much as the hunger did. 

Astarion knew what the master wanted. A tiny, contrary part of him– a part he had tried hard to crush–  demanded he make the master earn his screams. He could indulge in this small withholding, this smallest sip of power, couldn't he? 

It wouldn't matter either way. They would destroy him, it was inevitable as the sunrise. 

He could barely see now, his eyes swelling nearly shut. His head was spinning. He staggered down to his knees, hands splayed in front of him to keep him from falling on his ruined face.  He thought there were tears, but he couldn't feel them. 

“Do not slouch, boy.”

Astarion tried to stand, but his brain seemed to slosh in his head and he collapsed back down. The earliest wounds were already starting to heal.  But it was slow- it had been so long since he'd fed.

“Weak,” the master sneered, the word full of disappointment and disgust. “I told you to stand still. Such a simple command and yet you cannot follow it.”

Godey’s hand grabbed his hair, the bones scraping on his scalp, pulling back to bend his neck at a cruel angle. There was something in its other hand, something red with dried blood.

When the blade touched his skin, he begged. It was what they wanted. In a slurred, breathy voice, he begged for mercy, for forgiveness, for the knife to stop slicing his skin into hideous art.  

He begged for death. 

It did not matter. There was no rhyme or reason to this. 

His pleas were worthless. He was worthless. Nothing he did changed anything, now or ever.  He was nothing. Weak. 

“Please, I'm sorry… Just kill me, please, let me die…”

The master sighed with frustration.  “Always such yapping from you.  Are you never out of words?”

His only purpose was to be entertainment.  For his master, for his victims.  He only existed to be pleasing, and his pain was pleasing to them.  

He couldn't even do that right. 

The master stood. Astarion rocked back and forth, whimpering, trying to pay attention to the master's movements, to anticipate what the master would want from him, but the burning, stinging, overwhelming pain consumed him. 

An elegant hand held something wriggling and squeaking to Astarion's face.  

Fresh.

Alive. 

It's a trick. 

His body acted before he could think.  He snatched the treat with greedy hands and sank his fangs into its twisting body before it could be taken from him.  He drained it in huge gulps, finishing far too soon, sucking on its empty body long after it had ceased to give him blood. 

“Disgusting.  Have you no manners, boy?” 

The master's eyes glowed a brighter red and magic seized him, yanking him to his feet. 

The rat dropped from his mouth and he whined, still starving. His wounds were healing faster, burning through what little nourishment he'd gotten. He knew it was a trick, food was always a trick. It didn't matter. He wanted more. 

His body was contorted, forcing him back to his knees, arms extended in front of him. 

The master grabbed his chin, examining the closing cuts on his face and the rat blood that had dripped down his neck.  “Not even a ‘thank you’ for your dinner?  What an unruly child.  After all I have done for you–  such wasted effort.”  His palm cracked across Astarion's face, making his head snap to the side, making his broken cheekbone shriek with renewed vigor.  “At least we have stopped your yapping, for once.”

Haven't I been obedient, didn't I bring you a beautiful meal? he wanted to wail.  What more can I do?

The master wiped his hand clean of blood on Astarion's hair and returned to his chair.  “I have not heard him scream yet. Break his hands. That is always a delightful sound.”  

“Oh yes, we haven't done this in a long time. Last time, you sounded so pretty, little one,” Godey hummed as it rummaged for something out of Astarion’s sight.

Astarion's stomach dropped like a stone, his muscles yanking helplessly against the magic. Beat him, flay him, drain him, but–

He sobbed, “Please, I've been good, please, I'll be so good,” knowing that mercy did not exist in this room. They would cut him and break him until they tired of it, dragging his pulverized body to one of the blood-stained palettes until he healed enough to do it all again. 

And again.  

And again. 

“Stop making such a fuss, little one. Godey will take good care of you, just like always.” The skeleton raised a pair of large pliers into Astarion's view. 

The metal jaws were intensely cold on his finger.  No, no no-

He screamed for them. He screamed until his throat was raw, until his voice was gone, and still he screamed. The master's pleased laughter cut through his own noises to ring in his ears. The master's delight wouldn't save him. Nothing would save him from the crushing, crunching, ripping–

“Astarion. Astarion!” 

He jerked. 

There was no pain. 

The air smelled clean and… sweet. 

He stared blankly up at a face that had skin and softness, not naked bone.  

You. You were there. He was in your tent in… Rivington. Yes, that's where he was. Not the kennels. 

“You were screaming.”

He swallowed, noticing the soreness in his throat.  

“They're getting worse, the closer we get to Baldur's Gate, aren't they?”

“Well, it's not as if I have any happy memories to meditate with,” he said, trying to wave it away even though his voice was hoarse.  It was getting worse, the closer he got to home.  Instead of memories that he could replay as an observer, detached, he felt swallowed by them.  Forced to relive every torturous detail.  He held his hands in front of his face to be sure they weren't crushed to a pulp.  He could almost still feel it. 

He was desperate to kill Cazador.  Every second of delay was interminable. He wanted to be truly free of the man, to see his corpse at his feet and know that Cazador would never touch him again. And if he could take all of his potential power for himself? Even better.  

But he was also terrified to his very core to see his old master again. What if he couldn't do it? He was stronger now, but he still felt too weak for this. And what if something happened to you? He would never forgive himself.  

“I’m sorry that I woke you,” he said. “Go back to sleep, darling. I'm fine.” Guilt made his stomach twist. You got precious little sleep as it was, and he was making it worse. After all you had done for him. Ungrateful. Unruly. 

“Yeah, that's not happening. You were screaming. I'm not going back to sleep and leaving you alone.”  You cupped his face in your hands, rubbing his temples with your thumbs. “Tell me about it.”

He didn't want to; wanted to shove it down and pretend it had never happened, like every other time. He hated to burden you, to make you listen to him yapping. You deserved better.

“Astarion,” you said gently. “I know that look. Try me. Please.”

He felt so brittle under your touch. Ready to shatter into a thousand pieces if he wasn't careful.  Gods, he wanted to tell you everything as much as he didn't want to tell you a single thing. 

“It was just…” He struggled for a quip, but nothing came.  “It was a memory of Cazador's torments. Nothing special.”

“Come on.” You stood, grabbing his hand to urge him up. “We're going outside.”

“Outside?” He was completely baffled. 

“Yes.” You pulled the blanket off the bedroll and led him out, the both of you barefoot and in your nightclothes.

The moon was bright and low on the horizon, its silver light shining on you as you picked your way across camp, still holding his hand. Astarion inhaled deeply, the cool air filling his lungs.  He hadn't even realized he had felt trapped in the small space of the tent but now, as a breeze tickled his hair, he couldn't imagine going back inside. 

He couldn't stand to keep the words trapped inside either. They came haltingly at first, half-mumbled as if he hoped you wouldn't hear. But by the time you were spreading out the blanket on a patch of soft grass, the memory was pouring out. It was easier out here in the open with you not staring at him, while he choked back emotion, trying and failing to stay aloof and sarcastic about it all. 

You sat next to him, fingers laced through his in silent comfort. 

When he was done, he waited for the pity, for you to see him as a broken, pathetic thing.  He knew you couldn't make these memories go away, could never remove the pain of them.  You couldn't make it so he hadn’t lived them.  

But you surprised him again. 

You squeezed his hand just a little too hard. “We are going to destroy that rat-bastard.  There won't be enough pieces of him left to fill a chalice when we're done with him.”

He coughed, a laugh stuck in his throat from the uncharacteristic venom in your voice. “Well, I do appreciate that, darling.  It wasn't even the worst night,” he shrugged. “Or maybe it was one of many similar worst nights. Hard to pick, really.” He sighed. “It was usually one or the other of them. But nights when Cazador was bored… When he wanted to be… entertained, those held an extra layer of humiliation.”

He pulled his hand from you, wrapping his arms around his knees, curling his body around the sudden crushing pressure in his chest. Weak. Pathetic. Disgusting. Never obedient enough.  Never good enough.  

He strangled back the tears that threatened to fall. “I was nothing to them. Less than a dog. Just… an object to be broken at their whims.”

Astarion put his head on his knees, huddled as tightly as he could get, but the shame and despair and fear wouldn't stop growing. Weak. 

“And this wretched contract.  All the shit Cazador put me through, the centuries of torment… just to be consumed so that he can attain greater power?”  Why, why did that hurt?  He hated Cazador to the very depths of his soul.  Being discarded, though, even by him, being so worthless that only his death mattered at all crushed his heart. 

Bitterness twisted his lips and he huffed.  “Being consumed. That's what I was made for.”  

“Astarion-” 

“I'm only good for entertainment. I'm a toy. Sex or torture, it doesn't matter.” I don't matter. 

“That's not true at all.”

“Oh, isn't it?” he snapped, head jerking up to glare at you. “How did this start then?” He gestured between you. “You just had to sleep with the sexy vampire, didn't you.”  

He bit his lip hard. Lashing out was easier than being honest, pushing the hurt onto someone else, being the one to wield the knife for once. He cowered deeper into his knees. And after he had woken you and you were staying awake with him.  Ungrateful. Unruly.  Weak.  Pathetic. 

But you didn't rise to the bait.

“Why are you even with me?” he asked in a quiet, broken voice - the question that had been lurking in the back of his mind since you'd chosen him, the question that begged to be answered whenever he looked at you but that he could never utter, terrified of what you would say. “I’m too much wasted effort. I can't give you anything. Not sex, not safety…” 

“What in our time together gives you the impression that I am someone concerned with safety?”  There was a bit of laughter in your words, incredulous but gentle. “I was never with you for the sex.  It was nice-” 

Even drowning as he was, Astarion couldn't keep from retorting, “It was more than just ���nice.’”  

Your slightly exasperated smile warmed his hurting heart. 

“Fine, it was mind-blowing in every way. But that was not and is not and never will be why I love you.”

You had never said it before. Love. But you said it so clearly, so naturally, as if there was no question at all, that Astarion's eyes welled with tears.  He blinked them back. 

You touched him carefully, drawing his head up to look at you but giving him the chance to pull away.  “I love you, Astarion.  All the broken pieces, all the rough edges, all the contradictory mishmash.  I love the gleeful little noise you make when we find some good treasure.  And the pride on your face after you open a particularly hard lock.  I love watching you read, I love watching you embroider, I love watching you try to learn necromancy.  Mm, if I were worried about safety, I probably shouldn't let you do that.”

Something started to uncurl from the tight, painful ball in his chest as Astarion watched you talk about him with bright enthusiasm. He hadn't realized how much attention you'd paid to the small details of him. 

“I love listening to you. I love seeing you smile. Gods above, I love seeing you smile.”  You smiled to yourself at the memory of it.  “I've watched you grow from being so afraid– understandably–  to trusting us. Trusting me enough to let me know you.  And I am so glad you did. I'm so glad you're here.” 

“And I'm beautiful, don't forget that,” he said with forced airiness to deflect, adoring the praises and uncomfortable with being so seen at the same time.

“You are unfairly beautiful. But that's not what this is about. You are brave, Astarion. You've thrown yourself into battles with goblins and cultists and a hag, fights that would have given trained soldiers a fright.  You don't take shit from anyone. Not even explosive wizards or transdimensional warriors or whatever the hells Withers is.”

Your voice lowered and you touched your forehead to his. “I love you. All of you.”

Three little words… everyone's favorite. He had used them to con hundreds of people.  Hundreds had said it to him in a lust-driven haze. This was something so vastly different.  

He could feel it.  It wasn't just three little words.  It settled in his ribs, sweet and precious and sincere.

“May I kiss you?” 

The question surprised him. But now that you had asked, he wanted it badly.  To feel connected to you, to this new life, to feel like he was wanted. 

“Please,” he said. 

But you didn't lean in as he expected. 

You picked up his hand, laying a soft kiss on each joint.  You kissed his palm, turning it over to kiss the other side. You laid another on his wrist and then did the same with the other hand, slow and methodical.  These weren't teasing or erotic. It was, he realized, as if he were a small child.  You cupped his face and pressed your warm lips to his cheek, to the bridge of his nose, to his brow.  

Everywhere that he had said he'd been hurt. 

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They surged up in a tidal wave, the simple kindness of your kisses flooding him, and he buried his head in your neck with a whimper.  

“Shh, I've got you,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “It's okay.”

He wrapped his arms around you, clinging like he'd be lost without you grounding him.  His hands clawed into your nightshirt;  all the longing and doubt and fear and rage that he'd been shoving away crashed over him, impossible to ignore, impossible to hold.  It poured out of him in gasping, ugly sobs. 

You just held him, rubbing his back, occasionally murmuring something comforting or encouraging. 

He cried until he was empty, until the raging storm had passed and all he felt was exhausted and drained.  His grip on you loosened, but he didn't let go. He listened to your breathing, consciously pulling air in and out of his lungs to match. It was soothing. 

He was a mess and so was your shirt.  He felt shaky and vulnerable, tender like a new wound. 

But he didn't feel weak.  

“Here, my love,” you said, holding your wrist up. “Eat.  You'll feel better.”

He almost dissolved into tears again.  There was no trick, no hidden motive, just food because he needed it.

Taking your arm, he did his best to bite gently. It was the least he could do. You hissed and tensed but wouldn't let him pull away.

“Just stings a little more than I expected. I'm fine. Eat, please.”  

It was exceedingly peaceful, watching the sky slowly lighten and the stars fade, slumped against your shoulder with the rich taste of your blood in his mouth. You stroked his back with your free hand, and he thought, maybe this was what home was supposed to feel like.

Loved.  Wanted.  Seen. 

-

Master Post

[supercorpkid]

Ace Reporter - part 4

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 2375.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Something brings you back from your trance. Probably the loud alarm saying that if you don't get out of this place in five minutes you're going to die. Five minutes is really not enough time to find the way out, so you run out of the bedroom and make your way to the other side to try and find the exit there.

You are met with a dead end, and on your way back you bump into Lena. She holds your arms to steady you. "Y/N! I'm glad I found you. Kara and I split up while looking for the exit."

"Dead end." You point to the hallway behind you.

Lena agrees with her head. Cleans the blood off your cheek before nodding to you, "I'm happy you're safe." She almost hugs you, but decides there are more pressing matters at the moment. "Let's find Kara and get out of here." 

Lena holds your hand, guiding you to the direction you just left. That's when Kara appears in clear panic and points to another place, not wanting you to find her secret in that creepy room, unbeknownst of your current knowledge.

You do feel kind of safer knowing Supergirl is around. She said it herself, she won't let you get hurt for a story. She certainly won't let you explode just not to compromise her secret identity. Right? Right.

On your way out the three of you find the room with all Lex's hardcopies of clear wrongdoings. You grab everything you can see and get out of there less than a minute before the whole place explodes.

You make it back to National City, digging through papers, unraveling conspiracy theories and mazes of wickedness. Kara Danvers is snoring on the chair in front of yours, tired from keeping secrets and burning bridges. And Lena is also examining the documents in silence. When you can't read another word, you turn to her,

"Tough day, huh."

"Running into the atrocities my brother is responsible for, is not exactly a walk in the park for me."

Great fucking quote. Not on record, though.

"Sorry we didn't find him. Though I have to admit, I'd be a bit scared if we did." 

"I don't blame you. I would have too." Lena smiles absently and a little bit too sincere. You can tell she immediately wishes to take it back. You're a journalist, after all.

"Well, you've dealt with all those Eve clones pretty well. I'm glad you and -" You stop yourself, looking at Kara. She is not sweet doofus Kara Danvers anymore. It's pretty much real to you that she literally is the strongest person on Earth and she could have ended all those clones in probably one blow.

Lena agrees with a nod, following your eyes. "She actually fights pretty decently, I didn't know that about Kara." 

You furrow your brows, confused. "You didn't?"

"Honestly, no. I wonder where she was hiding all those moves."

"Yeah. And I wonder why." You whisper to yourself, staring at Kara. Is she really asleep? No way to know, she is such a good liar. She might actually be the greatest actor of all time. How else would she have kept this secret from her best friend for so long?

 "Anyway, heard you need a quote from me to get back to Metropolis."

You take a deep breath, mostly annoyed with your editor for making you work so hard for a damn quote, but also kind of offended that all of your investigative skills and team work will be reduced to one scandalous quote from Lena Luthor. You literally uncovered a web of lies and terrible plans, but hey, that's not what he asked you for, so it probably won't even be used.

"I suppose it's what I came here for."

You grab your notebook next to you, waiting for her quote.

"Ready?" She asks and you nod your head, pen on the paper ready to write down whatever she says. "I think you're so much better than what the Daily Planet gives you credit for, and I believe CatCo is always in need of a fine reporter like you."

You stop writing, raising your head at her, confused. "What?"

"And I should know what CatCo needs, since I'm the owner."

"What?" How did you not know that, when it's precisely your job to know everything about the woman you came here to interview.

"And if offering you a job is not enough of a reason for you to consider staying in National City, I'd like to add that I, too, would like to have you closer." Lena's voice drops an octave and an eyebrow is raised. My God, she is sexy.

"With the risk of sounding like a broken record, what?"

Lena laughs, honest and carefree. Wrinkles under her eyes and it has to be one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen. "I'll let you consider it. If you decide not to stay, I'll give you the quote."

"Oh, ok." Your cheeks burn red. "Thanks, Lena."

When you finally make it to National City, Lena offers both of you a ride, but you and Kara decide to share an uber to your side of the town.

"We've uncovered some pretty sensible information on this trip to Kaznia." Kara says as soon as Lena gets inside her car. "And I know you must be dying to do an exposé-"

Does she know? Does Kara know what you saw in that weird bedroom? That you finally have put two and two together and noticed the obvious? Is she scared you're going to tell the world? 

"But we have to be careful on how we're going to play this. If we blow the whistle on Lex, he could just go back to hiding and-"

"What?"

"Oh sorry, sometimes I talk too fast. I meant Lex and whoever is helping him inside the government. Obviously he had help to break aliens out of the DEO facility and-"

She doesn't know. Haven't got the faintest idea. Kara Danvers is here blabbing about Lex Luthor while you have this huge information about her. And about Clark.

"Oh my God Danvers, shut up." It's out of your mouth before you can stop it. Her eyes widen and you point to the car that just arrived. "I don't wanna talk about Lex, ok? I got hurt because of him, because of this damn crusade the Daily Planet put me through." You signal for the driver then slide inside the car. Kara follows you promptly. And with no amenities the driver just goes.

"Look, I know it was tough out there. But you did so well. You-you found this!" Kara is holding the documents so tight, like they would just fly out of her hands if she didn't. 

"Yeah, and I also almost died for those stupid sheets of paper. I'm not Nancy Drew, ok?"

"You are!” You look at her in disbelief. “At least, you were out there!"

"Stop, ok? This means nothing to me! I'm not you, Danvers! I'm not ok with putting my life at risk for a fucking assignment. I really am not getting paid enough and I only have this one life."

"What are you talking about?" Kara asks and you raise your eyebrow at her as an answer, not wanting to share more. "What? You think I'm a cat with nine lives?"

You can't help a laugh that leaves your mouth. A very ironic one. Sour and hostile. It makes her wince at the sound.

"Damn, you really are the biggest dweeb I've ever seen."

She huffs, moving uncomfortably on the seat next to you. You ignore her, staring out the window. You don't even like National City that much, but you're honestly so glad to be here right now.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but we're writing this together, aren't we? We have to decide on what can we expose and-"

"UGH." It's the only sound out of your mouth. You're so tired. You flew to Kaznia; the plane you were in almost crashed; you had to fight evil clones and you got beat up by one (which is rather embarrassing); you found out your work-colleague and your almost-nemesis' secret identities; and you also found out what the hell Lex is up to. You're exhausted. Right now, the only thing you want is to go back home, but stupid Kara Danvers won't shut up. "I wish Eve had punched your face instead of mine."

"WHAT?" Kara yells so loud, even the driver jumps in his seat. "Sorry, sorry." She apologizes to him, then turns back at you. "That's such a mean thing to say!"

"Why? It's not like you can feel anything." You roll your eyes, hand going to the cut on the side of your cheek that still burns.

"Of course I can feel things." 

She's barely finished with her sentence and you're adding, "Oh my God, you let me get punched for nothing."

"I'm so confused right now."

"I KNOW, OK?" It's your time to yell, making the driver almost lose control of the car, and you have to hold yourself on Kara not to knock your head on the window. When the car finally stabilizes again, you continue. "I know you helped land the plane. I know you could've taken down all Eves by yourself. And I know about you and- and Clark." You stare deep into her eyes. "I know who you are."

Kara swallows deep, so loud you could hear it perfectly, and you're sure the driver could too. "Stop the car."

"Ma'am, we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Stop. The. Car." She repeats strongly, commanding. Must be her Supergirl voice. And the driver is not going to argue twice, so he does. He stops the car in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Kara pulls you by the hand and there's no fighting. Not when the strongest woman on the planet wants you out of the car, anyway.

So you stand there, with nothing but trees around while your ride home leaves you behind. You cross your arms and stare at her. God, you wish you were home. You wish you were never sent to this assignment. You wish you were never entangled in this mess with Kara Danvers. You wish you could just hate her from a distance instead from up close.

"How did you figure it out?"

"Well, you fighting all those clones with your bare hands was a pretty big tell. But what confirmed my suspicions was that weird altar they had for you there."

"You saw that too?"

"Yeah, it was pretty bizarre. I mean, who would have so many pictures of doofus Kara Danvers?"

"HEY! I'm not-" She huffs, unable to defend herself. "Whatever."

Kara walks from side to side, hands on the side of her head, clearly freaking out because you know her secret and she can't trust you. How could she? You're a random reporter who just came from Metropolis to find a story. And you did, you found the biggest one you could ever look for, and now you know the secret identity of two of the most powerful superheroes on the planet. 

She finally breathes out all the weight off her shoulders, and comes closer, really close. So close she touches the cut on your cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let you get hurt." And you've known this woman for two weeks, but you know she means it. Can read it in her watery eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't realize how scared you were. I'm sorry I couldn't be Supergirl there."

"Because Lena doesn't know." 

"Well, you weren't supposed to know either." She shrugs. Hands on your chin, eyes staring right at your soul. You dare to look at her lips, so close, so so close. Right there.

"Hey," You look back at her eyes and notice how scared she is. You know her secret, her biggest secret. You know a part of her not everyone knows. Not even her best friend! So you hold her free hand. "I promise your secret is safe with me. I know you have no reason to believe me. I mean, I didn't even like you until two days ago, so I understand the distrust. But this is a big thing. Bigger than whatever is between me and Kara Danvers. I would never put people's life at risk."

"Thank you." Kara gives your hand a little squeeze. "But what do you mean you didn't like me? I thought, I thought we were…"

"What? Friends?" A little smirk.

"Flirting." She admits and you gulp, taking your hand away from hers. She understands the signal so she lets go of your face too, but doesn't stop talking.  "I thought it was all flirting banter."

It was. She is right. But you just can't admit this to her, or anyone.

So you let a sharp and deceitful laugh out. "Oh please. Even on a good day, we're barely amicable."

Kara furrows her brows, looking like a lost puppy and when she opens her mouth to argue, you cut her off, not ready for this conversation at all. 

"So, do we get another uber or is Supergirl flying me to my hotel room? I really need to lay down after all this."

"Yeah. Yeah." She won't raise her head or look you in the eyes, but still picks you up in bridal style. "Hold tight."

Kara starts flying and you can't help but to hold her with everything you have. You can't believe you just gave Kara Danvers the power to drop you from a very tall height. You venture a peek down and holy fucking shit you are way too high. If she drops you, you're dead for sure.

You hide your face in Kara's neck. Breathe her in, and oh God she smells so good even after almost exploding in Kaznia. Ugh. Your stomach is all in knots and you wish you could just rationalize this strangled feeling, but right now Kara Danvers/ Supergirl/ Whoever is carefully taking you home, might be the person you loathe the most. Or love. You can't decide.

[sewinrat]

Yk the older sis hcs u did ??

Well i was wondering if u could write an kind of "what if" scenario where instead of luther waking up so damn late and stopping robert from getting killed what if instead she woke up and stopped ANY of the rats from getting killed and kept them as pets and started absolutely spoiling the ratmen

How would the rats and the other ivories react to this? :3

Awe this would be so cute if you ignore the fact that she is technically capable of watching them suffer in pain but she won't.

You hear a baam from outside your bedroom and sigh out, "Oh dear..." Standing up from your desk and stopping you from whatever you were doing, you went out of your bedroom. Walking down one of the hallway where the noise was coming from, you were met with Nyen cleaning out the inside of a ratman. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure and took out a spray bottle. "Nyen," you called out. Said cat flinched at the sound of your voice and turn around hesitantly.

Approaching him with the bottle in hand as he slowly backs away. Holding up the spray bottle you asked, "What did I tell you about murdering pests inside the halls?" You spray him. He hissed and his ears lowered either from distaste and mad. However he's not mad at you, he's mad at himself for not cleaning it faster. "Now shoo. I have things to deal with." He doesn't want to but he has no choice to obey so he went away grumbling.

After making sure he's gone, you then crouched down in front of the dead ratman, "Oh, you poor thing.. I'll fix you right up." You took his body in your arms, and bring him to your room where you'll be fixing all of his organs. Once you're done, you put something of yours on him to let everyone know that he now belongs under your name. You put him in a big enough cage so he'll recover safe for a while. But for now, you have somewhere to be. Sensing another chaos happening near the kitchen, off you go quickly before another one dies of Nyen. Sighing, you shook your head as you're walking at fast speed mumbling, "I know that Luther is stressed but doesn't mean that I'm not stressed from you murdering all these rats..."

Arriving in a dark room, you menacingly called out at the cat in front of you that is strangling another rat but this time with three eyes, "Nyen." Nyen immediately dropped the rat. Looks like he has learned his lesson on the last rat but that doesn't mean he's stopping. It was cat instincts. "Have you not learned?" You took out the spray bottle once again, "Bad kitty." You spray him as you uttered the words he doesn't like to hear. "Now go back to your bed," you pointed to somewhere that is not near your location or the kitchen. Nyen begrudgingly left, not wanting to push your limits. He knows how badly your punishments are so he's not wanting to experience it, ever.

After he left, you straightened your blouse and skirt, "Now, where was I...? Ah yes, the rat." Sharply turning towards the three-eyed rat who flinched, you pick him up from his collar like he was a cat... Ironic. "Stay still. This wouldn't hurt a bit," you imprinted your mark on him and now he's part of your pets. You let go of his collar, "From now on, you belong under my name, got it?" To which he nods rapidly, probably relief to not die. You walk off with nothing else to say. The ratman hesitates in following you but figured he'd try because technically he belongs to you so he's safe right?

You found Nyon on the ground and help him off the ground, dusting anything off. "Nyon, I'm gonna need you to find one of the rats and bring them to me. Use force, okay dearie?" Nyon trembles a bit but nodded obedient. You pat his head and send him off to find one of the rat.

In one of the kitchen you saw Randal and his pet accompanied with another scared ratman, this time in a sailor outfit. Calling out, "Randal dear! Would you be so kind to bring that rat to me?" Said creature perked up at the sound of your voice, you can hear him excitedly say sure and immediately dragged the - squirming - rat to you. The three-eyed rat behind you, hides his body using your figure from behind. "Good boy, Randal. I'll reward you later but now I need to do this," You put your mark on the squirming rat, to which he struggles more - not understanding what's happening. You sighed and told Randal to hold the sailor outfit rat down and to sit down while you search for the others. Randal nods eagerly and drag both Sebastian and hold the rat tightly in his hold. The three-eyed rat sweat dropped but doesn't make a comment in order to not trigger the happy boy with glasses.

It didn't take long to find another one. You found a rat with a crying eye hiding and you grab the hand that holds a weapon and took it away, "You should know better that I know every part of the house. Now be a good boy and stay still." He didn't however and instead continue to struggle. This makes you irritated but you managed to stay calm and took out a tranquilliser. You put the dart in his neck, and slowly he started to cease his squirming, making it easier to put your mark on him. Bringing him to Randal to also hold the 'crying' rat down in case he wakes up.

That leaves one more rat, you thought. It might take long because Nyon isn't physically capable in comparison to Nyen but he can manage. Looking over at Randal rambling to your rats with Sebastian looking pitifully at the three of them. You figured that you can cook for the family. Standing up and grabbing your apron, you get started. Making a perfect portion of food for your family while making a slightly larger portion for your rats.

It took a while but Nyon came back with an aggressive ratman that's wearing circular glasses who's trying to attack Nyon even if technically he's weaker. "Good boy, Nyon," petting the Nyon who enjoyed the pats that can make Nyen jealous, you grabbed the newest rat addition by the collar and immediately put your mark on it. "Oh! Before I forget," you snap your fingers and Jeff showed up with the ratman with a long nose from it's containment in his hold. Jeff put the ratman down on one of the chairs upright. "Thank you Jeff, you can go now," snapping your fingers once more and Jeff is gone.

"Now, all of you ratmen are now under my name. That means you can stop stealing our food. All of you better sit down and eat, okay?" With the threat lacing the last word, all the rats scrambled to take a sit at the table while Randal is just excitedly rambling to everyone about how good your cooking is. "Nyon, go get Nyen and interrupt my brother's sleeping. I'm sure he'll be needing my food when he sees the mess," you can see Nyon nods and leave the room as you put out the dishes to everyone present.

Soon, Nyon came back with Nyen and your brother, Luther who almost fainted at the sight of the ratmen before you explained that they now belong under your name. To which, he has no choice but to accept it. So they all joined in on dinner. Although the ratmen are hesitant on eating because they thought it might be a trick to poison them. All of them seem to also glance at each other, especially at the 'crying' ratman. However to no viewer's surprise, the one to eat it first is the rat wearing the sailor outfit who complain about being too hungry to care. Seeing as he's not dropped dead, they all then eat it slowly besides the sailor ratman. They were so cute so you gave each of them a pat on the head, some even lean into it. Slowly but surely they accept everything that's happening.

Randal whined out about wanting a head pat too since he helped in keeping them in check! Sebastian would rather not have you touch him but he can't have a say in it or anything for that matter. Luther can't say he doesn't mind you starting to like the ratmen but he can't stop you. However, he will try to cut the time if you are spending more time with them than your family. After all, family is important♡

Nyen is seething. He doesn't like that the ratmen are now part of the family. While he won't kill them, in front of you that is, he'll torture them more than with Nyon. Speaking of, Nyon is just there. He doesn't mind and he doesn't question your decisions. Plus, he might have a friend in the house with one of the ratmen.

In the end, all of you enjoyed the food you made. The company however? That's 50/50.

[delphiealmond]

A Fallen Apple From the Apple Tree

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Pairing ➸ Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor

Synopsis ➸ Lucifer Morningstar believed that Heaven was a sanctuary, the best place for a soul to be in. Growing up with his brothers was the easy part, until God summoned him and his older brother Michael to guard over the portal between realms. Slowly, Lucifer begins to see how frightful Heaven really was. Sought out to defend the sinners of Hell, tragedy strikes among the Archangels. But a familiar face makes Lucifer think that maybe defending his opinion wasn't the worst idea he could've had. Does this familiar face bring him peace? Or does Lucifer end up getting stuck in another twisting cycle of lies and betrayals?

Warnings ➸ None for this chapter

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MASTERLIST | Next

Chapter One (1.2k)

The world around them was nothing like the world they had grown accustomed to. An array of reds and blacks. The sky was blood red with a design etched into it that the young soul couldn’t recognize. Everything around him was violent, scary even. He kept himself close to his father, yet his little heart wanted to see what else there was to this different, twisted world he just entered. 

Souls were fighting with each other, beating each other up in a way the child had never seen before. The man beside him, stood tall as he beckoned both boys into a venue. It wasn’t anything as fancy as the ones back at home. It was breaking, cracks in the walls, spiders in the corners and what Lucifer could only imagine were dead bodies. 

Beside him, Michael grabbed onto his hand, gripping it tightly as he couldn’t bear to look at the world around him. He kept his eyes to the ground, kept close to his brother, kept close to his father. But Lucifer on the other hand, couldn’t help but look at the wreckage around them. 

“Father-”

“Not now, Luci.” He glanced down to Lucifer, only to gently pat his head. “We won’t be here for long,” He encouraged. Lucifer gave the tall man a small nod, before he looked at his brother. 

“Did you hear him? We won’t be here for long, Michael.” He tried, hoping to help his older brother feel a tiny bit better. Yet, Michael didn’t look up. He held onto his brother firmly, following after their father, two Cherubims stuck close to them, wielding angelic weapons in their hands. 

After a long hallway, Lucifer found himself standing behind his father, two large double doors being pushed open. 

The room was full of people. Those who towered over the little ones. They stood tall, determined and looked almost angry. Though, Lucifer couldn’t exactly tell why. His father wasn’t a bad man, so why did they look so mad at him? 

“So the deity finally decided to show up.” One of them said, though, to Lucifer he looked sort of like a clown. He found clowns funny, actually, as he tried to hide his smile behind his hand. 

“I didn’t expect you to actually say yes to this kind of meeting.” The hound girl said. Her hair flowed like honey, an array of blues, pinks, oranges and yellows. She was quite pretty. He wanted to touch her hair, though he stayed close to his father, nearly clinging onto the end of his jacket with Michael attached to his father by the hip. 

“I had no other choice.” His voice almost beamed through the room. “You threatened Heaven, and we can’t have that happening.” 

“So they sent the big man out here huh?” The clown-man leaned back in his chair, beginning to play with a small doll that he held in his hand. “Why not one of your… What are they?” He looked at the rest of them. 

Sat around the table were four other people. One man looked like the ocean, a deep blue with greens and purples. The others, Lucifer couldn’t really get a good look at, though, he felt intimidated by them. 

“Come sit, old friend.” The blue-man said, gesturing to the empty seat at the table. 

“Don’t call me a friend, Asmodeus. I am only here to do work.” He spoke, entering the room. Both boys, Lucifer and Michael, clung onto him, following him into the room. 

“Wait, wait…” The hound girl held up her hands, her ears tilting back as she looked at the two boys. Lucifer almost felt nervous when she caught his eye. He hid behind his father, yet peered out from behind him. Michael, on the other hand, stayed quiet, not even looking up to see the other people in the room. “You… Who are these kids?” She asked, gesturing to them. 

The two Cherubims took a step forward, almost protecting the two boys. 

“Ah,” Lucifer looked up at his father, when he reached down and patted his head. “These boys are my sons.” He looked over at Michael, and did the same thing. 

“You brought your sons to a meeting like this?” The clown-man laughed, holding his large stomach. “You must be joking, was there no baby sitter??!” He cackled. 

“Mammon.” Another deep voice startled Lucifer closer to his father, as he held onto his pant leg. Sat in the middle of the room, a tall man had his hands clasped together. “Be respectful.” He said, before gesturing to the boy next to him. 

Lucifer’s interest peaked, looking at the boy who stood next to this man. He stood silently, his hands held behind his back as he watched the meeting take place. He was dressed in red, a formal outfit with black frill. Yet, this wasn’t what caught his attention. He had a pair of fluffy ears sitting on top of his head, two little nubs accompanying them. 

Lucifer gently pulled on his father’s pant leg, yet he almost waved the boy’s need for attention away. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Mammon sunk in his spot, looking unimpressed with the leader. 

“I do have to admit though…” The man looked at this little boy, and pet his head. His ears twitched as he stood his ground. “Maybe having children here wouldn’t be the best idea…”

“That's what I was going to say…” The hound-girl muttered, looking at Lucifer and Michael. “Hey, why don’t I bring them to one of the extra rooms? They’ll be safe there, you can even have one of your angel guys with them.” 

“All children?” Lucifer’s father asked, his hands coming down to land on his boy’s heads. 

“Alastor is no harm.” The man said, looking at the boy. “Isn’t that right? You’ll do well not to hurt them?”

Alastor looked at him, before nodding. 

“Father-” Lucifer smiled up at him, gently pulling on his pant leg once more. “Please…” His father looked down at him. A worried expression riddled his face before he knelt down. 

“Michael, how do you feel about this?” Michael frowned, yet shook his head, holding onto his father for everything he’s got. He sighed, looking at Lucifer. He could see the pure excitement in that boy's eyes. The thrill for a new friend, the creativity he could show this other boy. 

“Fine.” He stood, Michael in his arms. “But the Cherubim never leaves the room they’re in.” 

“Is this fine…?” Alastor asked, looking at the man. 

“Yes, go..” The man gently nudged him. “The meeting shouldn’t last long.” He smiled at Alastor, before looking at the hound-girl. “Bee, will you do the honors?”

“Of course!” She stood from her seat, holding out her hand to Alastor. The boy took it, following after her over to the three strangers. 

Lucifer paused, looking up at how tall ‘Bee’ was. She didn’t tower over his father, but she was still so tall. And right across from him, Alastor, the other boy. His ears twitched as they tempted to lay flat against his head. 

“Go on Luci. You will be fine…” His father muttered. Lucifer swallowed hard, but he took Bee’s hand and the two boys were led out of the room, a cherubim following after them.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hey guess what it's more Good Ganondorf content!

@silvercaptain24 <3

The party had long since finished. Link had been escorted back to his room and left in peace. With food in his stomach and some water, he felt his strength returning. His body trembled as he stood tentatively, alone in his room, but he managed to stay on his feet nonetheless.

Stepping quietly to the door, Link put an ear to it. There had to be guards outside, but he hadn't seen any when Nabooru had brought him back here.

This entire situation was making less sense, but he wasn't going to stick around long enough to parse it all out. Nabooru had claimed Ganondorf was holding him hostage to keep him safe. Ganondorf himself had tried to make himself look like he wasn't the villain, like the entirety of Hyrule hadn't been ripped apart at the seams because of his corruption and desire for power, like he hadn't torn the Triforce from Link and Zelda in battle while his army slaughtered their men.

It didn't make sense. What game was the monster playing? Link would have to figure it out when he made it back to his own people. Zelda and his army were waiting for him. The queen was no doubt trying to get a rescue operation together, and Link didn't want to risk anyone's lives over himself, not when he could find his own way out. He wasn't some helpless fool, he could handle this, and he would get the Triforce pieces back that the queen so desperately guarded.

He'd seen the crazed look in Zelda's eyes when they'd lost the Triforce the first time. He didn't want to see that again.

There was no other way out of this room than to use the door. It felt stupidly simple and reckless. He had to open it quickly, to catch the guards by surprise, wherever they were stationed. He needed some kind of weapon. He'd managed to sneak a knife in from dinner, slipping it into his boot, but he wasn't sure how useful it would be. He gripped it firmly in his hand and took a steadying breath.

It was now or never.

Link threw the door open, quickly taking in his surroundings, and saw... nothing.

No one... was there.

Well, he couldn't stop to think about it. The noise he'd just made would attract attention.

Trying to remember the path Nabooru had led him through to get outside, Link ran quickly, ignoring the chill that sank into his bones as he moved. When had it gotten so cold? His fingers felt like they were getting numb already as they gripped the knife.

The hallway opened up to a larger room. He remembered that. This was where--

A hand grabbed him by the back of his tunic and yanked harshly, sending him to the floor with a yell. Link kicked blindly, eyes focusing on his target.

It was Ghirahim.

Snarling, Link rolled to get away and swiped with the knife to create distance. Ghirahim caught his arm by the wrist, watching him with a sadistic smile.

"I figured you wouldn't sit still for long, sky child," he purred.

Something in Link roared in response, and he let out a battle cry as gripped the demon's arm with his free hand, bringing all his weight down to drag Ghirahim to the ground. The demon gasped a little at the increased weight he was holding, but he caught the hero by the shirt instead of letting them both fall.

Link spat in his face next, and that worked brilliantly, making the demon hiss and pull away immediately. Free from his grasp, Link began to run, knowing this was not a fight he was going to win with a knife. He heard a snap and Ghirahim appeared in front of him.

"Now, now," Ghirahim said, brushing some white hair out of his face. "I have strict orders to keep you here."

"Over my dead body," Link snarled.

"Oh, I wish," Ghirahim replied. "You see, that has been a point of contention lately. My master wishes you alive and it is so dreadfully taxing on me. But I trust his judgment. He has a way to address the true matter. And then your little vassal can be safe and sound while I deal with you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Link snapped, eyes searching for another escape route as he spoke. The demon lord certainly loved to talk, so if Link could use that to his advantage, he would.

"It's amazing how dense you can be," Ghirahim grumbled. "Honestly, an entire war fought for you and you don't even understand it. Cia may have fallen in love with you, but she desires your vassal. Nevertheless, this has always been about eliminating you. My master understands that. It will be my highest honor to serve in that capacity for him, to be the one to deliver the killing blow. I cannot wait for that momentous occasion."

"You're out of your mind," Link replied. Another hallway was just to the left, and if he ran fast enough... "I am the Hero. I don't know what you're talking about with vassals. I serve the queen as a--"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT THE QUEEN!" Ghirahim screamed, face contorted in rage. "This is about you, sky child, about revenge, about eliminating the one threat in my master's way! Her Grace isn't here, and her descendant doesn't have a fraction of that power, the Triforce is all my master needs now, and I will finally be able to kill you!"

The conversation was about to end and Link knew it. He tore off in the direction of the other hallway, managing to round the corner when he heard a snap again. He was prepared this time, grabbing the nearest pot and throwing it just as diamonds materialized in front of him. Ghirahim grunted as it made impact as soon as he appeared, shattering into countless pieces while Link quickly backtracked and went a different way.

By the grace of the goddesses, that had given the captain enough time to at least outmaneuver the demon lord, who wasn't sure which part of the compound Link had ended up by now. He was grateful for it, his heart racing and pounding in his ears as he rushed to find an exit. Fighting Ghirahim in the heat of battle felt far more... controlled than this. Here he felt like prey, and Ghirahim's rage and power over him was...

He wasn't going to say he was scared. He wouldn't.

Link felt a breeze and it gave him hope. That had to mean he was close to the outdoors. But where were all the Gerudo?

A door was up ahead, sand trickling in from beneath it, a promise of freedom and safety. Link threw it open with relief.

And ran right into Ganondorf.

Gasping, Link scrambled backwards, losing his footing and his balance as he fell unceremoniously to the ground. He continued to scoot away, trying to find a way around the towering figure. The man was enormous - it could give Link the advantage of scurrying around him if he was fast enough, but the world was spinning and--

"I figured you might try this," Ganondorf sighed.

Okay. Okay, fine. So they were talking. That would give him time to catch his breath. All these fools and their monologues - and people said Link was arrogant. At least he didn't usually give his enemies time to formulate a plan while they were actively standing in front of him.

"Your strength is returning," Ganondorf noted, walking towards him. "But that doesn't mean you're ready for a fight."

Well, Link might as well try to get some answers while he was here. "Where's the Triforce, you monster?"

"Where it needs to be," Ganondorf answered simply, closing the door behind him, much to Link's dismay. He stared at Link for an uncomfortably long time, making the captain squirm.

"Nabooru said you want me alive. Tell me why," he demanded, trying to make the man talk again.

Ganondorf was silent for a moment longer and then shook his head. "You're not in a state to accept my words."

"Try me," Link goaded. He had to admit, at this point he was curious. And it bought him more time to figure out what the heck his next step would be.

"I know your type, Hero," Ganondorf said, tacking on the title as if it were a curse. "You follow the queen like a puppy that doesn't know any better. Your heart is filled with a sense of duty, a desire to help and do good, and it is fixed on that woman. You'll do whatever Zelda tells you."

Link bristled but bit his tongue. Whatever slander Ganondorf was about to say didn't interest him, but the man hadn't made a point yet.

"You don't see the mess you're in," Ganondorf continued, shaking his head. "You don't understand. I'm trying to protect you, Link."

Link blinked. Then he blinked again. Nabooru had said as much, but hearing it from him... well. She had said keep him safe. He'd interpreted it as keep him alive. "Protect me from what?"

"Everything," Ganondorf muttered in a low time, voice rumbling in his chest. He bent forward, as if to grab Link, and the captain took that as his cue.

Link bolted, rushing to the left to get out of the reach of the man as he tried to run around him, using his small size to his advantage. He reached the door and immediately realized his mistake.

It was locked.

The ground vanished beneath him, and Link felt his stomach lurch as he was held in the air by one of his arms. The strain of having his entire body weight pulled into his shoulder joint made him grit his teeth. Then his world twirled as he was tossed against the man, his back to Ganondorf's chest, held in place by an arm wrapped around his torso.

"Let me go!" he yelled, kicking his legs as much as possible.

"I told you that you were not ready for this conversation," Ganondorf said, almost chidingly. "I'm taking you back to your room so you can rest."

"You think I'll be ready for a conversation that isn't true?" Link snapped. "You're holding me hostage for a reason, stop lying to me!"

Ganondorf said nothing, walking down the hallway with Link his helpless prisoner dangling in his grip. His waist and stomach ached from the hold, though at least pressed against someone else warmed him enough that he wasn't shivering and numb. His body was screaming at him at this point, wounds he hadn't even realized existed suddenly flaring up. He supposed the battle that had gotten him captured had left more marks than he'd realized.

That didn't matter. Escaping mattered.

Link felt so utterly helpless and he hated it. He'd never felt so out of control in his life. When he was plopped back on the bed and left alone to his own musings, he curled into a ball, suddenly shivering again.

He felt so, so alone. And suddenly, with the thought of Ghirahim's twisted, demented, enraged face, with the thought of how easily Ganondorf just manhandled him, he felt...

He wasn't going to say it. He wasn't going to say it.

Damn it all, he was scared. And he hated it.

He was the bearer of the Triforce of Courage and he was scared.

Burying his face into his knees, Link hugged himself and cursed himself at the same time. The tears fell silently at first before little hiccups started to accompany them. He was too tired for this. The only mercy the goddesses provided was that he was alone. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

His body felt impossibly heavy. The room felt like it was closing in. He was exhausted. His head hurt. His stomach ached from how he'd been held. Something on his back seared like fire. His knees were bothering him. He was freezing. He felt so unbelievably overwhelmed. He felt so unbelievably unsafe.

He'd always been the one to save the day. He'd been invincible with the Master Sword, though he'd learned that having others to help him was equally as important. But he had no Master Sword here. No friends. No hope of anything.

In the darkness and cold of the night, his fears consumed him, and he gave into despair. Link cried, so desperately alone. He just wanted to feel safe.

Warmth enveloped him, and he sank into it willingly, his hiccups turning into sobs. Something ran soothingly along his back, soft cloth was pressed against his face, and he found himself clinging to it desperately like a lifeline.

He needed to get himself together. He didn't care. No one was here anyway.

Then what's... why am I...?

He was too tired to process it anymore. All he knew was he felt safe.

"You'll be okay, child."

The voice was deep and gentle, whispered into his hair. Gentle pressure pressed him against whatever softness was in front of him. He heard a heartbeat.

A heartbeat. Pressure. Words. This was... he wasn't alone.

Hiccupping, Link opened his eyes, hands still clinging for dear life to patterned cloth in front of him, red hair spilling into his face as it slid over the person's shoulders.

A deep voice. A man's voice. A man wearing Gerudo--

What the hell.

Alarms rang in Link's mind as he put the pieces together. This couldn't be right this couldn't be right--

"You're safe," the voice said gently, continuing to run a hand along his back.

Link was so lost and confused and hurt and why the hell didn't anything make sense what was happening--

"I'll fix this," Ganondorf promised, and Link gave up entirely, falling apart.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Pull Me Out, Bring Me Back ~Maria Hill xFem SignificantOther!Reader

PSA: Secret Invasion Spoilers!!Maria is gone. And it takes a heavy toll on Reader… But little do you know, Fury has yet another surprise up his sleeve.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: Secret Invasion (MCU) Spoilers, angst, death, crying, grief, mourning, implied unnatural life, tampering with death/life, relief, happy endings, etc.

Enjoy (:

You were at the funeral. Her funeral. And you still couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be. Maria couldn’t be… Dead.

But there you stood on the runway, watching as her coffin was brought back into the States. Your lip quivered and you tried to keep yourself together. You couldn’t help the tear that slipped from your eyes. And then another. They just streamed down your face. And you were powerless to stop them. Just like you were powerless to have stopped Maria from dying.

You wanted to yell at the woman. Tell her she wasn’t allowed to leave yet. There was so much that you still had to say. So much time that has been taken from the two of you. It wasn’t fair… Your mind spiraled in this tornado of chaos.

Elizabeth, Maria’s mother, eventually came over to you, embracing you tightly. Her touch anchored you back into reality slightly. You were shaking in the woman’s embrace. She then pulled back, holding you by the shoulders.

“I-I’m so S-sorrry, Eliz—” you stammered in a chocked up manner, but the woman hushed you.

“Don’t be, sweet girl. You were as close, if not closer to Maria, than I was…” she comforted.

“And I promise you, I will find out what happened to our girl…” Elizabeth swore to you.

You took a deep breath and nodded, thanking the woman before she went off. You talked with some other officials and such, attending the after-ceremony, while you saw Maria’s mom talking to a man in the distance.

You spent the next days, weeks in your apartment. Numb. Missing Maria. It was all so overwhelming. The only person you talked to nowadays was Elizabeth. She could somewhat understand your pain…

She’d told you what Fury had told her. The details helped you a little. But you knew that it wasn’t the whole truth… You were barely making it. Everything was day by day, one step at a time… Otherwise, you’d drown from all the grief around you.

Your life didn’t seem worth living without the love of your life..

One day, she dropped by, knocking at your door. You shuffled off the couch and made your way to the door. Opening it, you smiled lightly at the sight of Elizabeth.

“I want to show you something” she said, indicating for you to follow her.

You nodded, quickly excusing yourself o change into a new pair of black leggings and a long sleeved shirt. Then coming along into her car, she drove you out into what seemed to be nothing but land. The woman then stopped at a clearing.

“Where are we?” You asked.

“I… Reached out to Fury. Again. About you. He said he wanted to meet with you.” Elizabeth explained.

“Here?”

Suddenly a light descended in the middle of the clearing. And then there was a bright transport/elevator of some kind standing there. You got out of the car.

“That will take me to Fury…?” You quizzically asked.

The woman nodded.

“Thank you.” You told Elizabeth, before going to the doors of the ship and entering it.

The ship took you up. You held on to a side beam of the vehicle as it accelerated intensely. Moving really high up. You assumed outer space. Then suddenly it stopped. And the doors opened.

You stumbled out of the space pod and into some sort of space base corridor. You rounded the hallway and saw the SWORD logo on the wall. Eventually, you found the control room. And none other than the Nick Fury.

“Ms. L/N, I’ve been expecting you…” Fury cooly stated.

“I… Sir… Sorry, but why am I here…?” You stammered.

The man turned around to face you. His face was layers of masks, but you thought you could detect some… sympathy perhaps…?

“Follow me.” He said, walking out of the room and down the hall.

You nodded and followed the man.

“Elizabeth reached out to me about you, and how you had been taking Maria… being gone…” Fury sighed.

He led you into a room, an observation room with a two way mirror. But the other side was dark. You followed him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“We both thought it would be best if you know the truth…”

Then Fury switched the lights on. The other room lit up. It was very hospital like. And in there, laid Maria. She wasn’t moving. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped. There was a monitor next to her, showing stable vitals.

What…?

“Is she…?” You whispered.

“Alive. Thank god.” He breathed out.

You were saved. Life had meaning again..

A wave of relief washed over you. Your life flashed before your eyes, her life with yours flashed before your eyes. Everything made sense again. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, you were getting so chocked up.

“W-why isn’t she… a-awake?” You stammered.

“She’s healing. Had a long recovery…” Fury sighed, “It’s all in here.”

He handed you a file.

“I didn’t just tell you because of what Elizabeth said. I’m telling you because I need someone who can watch her when she wakes up. The last men we used this specific procedure with had side effects…” He explained, indicating to the large file, “Read it. And then stay by her side as she recovers.”

You nodded swiftly.

“I understand…” you muttered, staring at the file.

Fury then left you in the room. You watched him close the door. You sighed, glanced at the brunette in the other room, your heart aching. Then siting down at the desk in the room, you began to read the file from the beginning.

The title read T.A.H.I.T.I. Project…

~~~

Maria Hill Masterlist

[julieverne]

"I don't understand why you're so scared of zombies," Maura said in a casual tone as she used the microscope. "You know the dead don't come back to life."

"Yeah, well, they did once, and see how well that turned out for us, huh? Found that damn hand when it was almost too late. I really-" Jane's voice cracked, and Maura looked up with curiousity. "I really thought I'd lost you that time."

Maura remembered the terror, the dawning realisation that yet another man she'd been attracted to was a criminal - a serial killer, that time - and then Jane's arms wrapped tight around her, the soothing little noises Jane made as she held Maura. The reassurances, the fierce press of Jane's lips at her hairline, the way Jane grasped her with hands that Maura knew hurt. The way she'd clung to her, aware Frost and Korsak were working around them, calling in paramedics and a different team from Maura's office than usual. People who wouldn't know Maura had been involved with Dennis. And even with the realisation that Dennis had intended to kill her for saving him, had intended to kill her for the symbolically mothering act of giving him life, intended to kill her because he'd kept killing once she'd brought him back, she felt a calm sense of safety in Jane's arms.

She always did.

Jane looked worried now, that little furrow in her brow when she thought she'd upset Maura.

"Shit, I didn't mean to bring it up."

"Actually, I think it does help to think of him as a zombie," Maura said smoothly, but not smoothly enough because Jane came around the desk then, one hand resting on Maura's back. It slid up to the tension between Maura's shoulder blades, then down, resting just above Maura's sacroiliac joint.

"I kind of wish I'd killed him," Jane admitted, her hand stroking Maura again, the lights low, only the night crew working. Dennis was dead, at his own hand, and Maura knew how it felt to want to have hurt someone who had hurt Jane. When Danny had bled out on the sidewalk, Maura cradling Jane's lifeless, leaking body, Maura had wished later that she'd given him a kick in the head before he'd finally stopped moving next to her. He was dead, but only because the bullet had gone through Jane first. She spent hours in the hospital, pacing the hallway. Angela had added her to Jane and Frankie's next of kin lists, but there were only so many hours she could spend looking down at a person she loved so much for her vitality lie completely still.

"I wish you had, too." In her nightmares, it was Jane who slayed Hoyt as she had in real life, Jane who untied her, Jane who held her as she shuddered from the muscular contractions from the aftershock of the taser. It was always Jane who saved her. And she had, in that loft. She'd shown up in time. She'd figured it out from the report Maura was too busy trying to hook up with a serial killer to receive. But she wished Jane had killed him, because she knows that would make them both feel better about it. He'd gone out on his own terms. He could have pulled Maura with him, but he'd chosen to let her go. He'd even pushed her at Jane.

He'd known.

And Jane had caught her and held her, even as the paramedics and crime scene techs arrived. She half-helped, half-carried Maura down and outside, then held her while the paramedics tried to check her over. They'd given Jane the sedative to give to Maura when they got home, and Jane had taken her home. She'd run a bath, and while she was usually a bit squeamish about Maura's nudity when it wasn't strictly necessary (for work or the gym), she sat on the edge with a beer and kept Maura company, keeping her mind off of what had almost happened to her. She'd fetched Maura's softest pyjamas and helped her into them, then warmed up dinner, holding out the sedative when Maura was done eating.

"I'll tell Ma," Jane had said.

"Don't." Maura grasped Jane's hand as she turned. "Don't leave me," Maura had whispered, feeling pathetic and needy as Jane bundled Maura back into her arms.

"I'll get Frankie to tell her," Jane compromised.

"Tomorrow," Maura insisted into Jane's shoulder. Jane was only ever like this when something bad happened. It wasn't the only time Maura needed her to be like this, and she felt sleazy for taking advantage of her trauma like that.

But she had needed Jane that night, even with the sedative calming some of her anxiety. Jane lay beside her as a sentinel, guarding her, comforting her every time she'd woken from sleep. The night had been a blur, but her brain knew she was safe with Jane. When she'd woken, daylight lazily creeping through the window, Jane had been watching her with such a fiercely possessive look on her face. A moment later it had been gone, Jane's features softening into the gentle eyes and soft smile Maura was used to seeing when they were alone. Jane's grasp on her had also softened, her hands smoothing over Maura's back.

"Hey," Jane had rasped, obviously unslept. She took her job as Maura's guardian as seriously as Frost called his blue robot an action figure.

Maura had wanted - she'd wanted something. Something she'd wanted for a while. She'd always known she'd felt safest in Jane's arms. Always known Jane loved her, would take care of her.

But she'd also known that what she wanted from Jane wasn't what Jane wanted from her, so she simply buried her face in Jane's chest and wept.

Not because of Dennis. Well, a little because of Dennis, but mostly because the people she dated because she couldn't date Jane never measured up. And they never would.

And Jane, not knowing any of this, soothed her. Jane held her close and rubbed her back, their bodies as aligned as their moral compasses. Jane, not knowing she was the cause of Maura looking for love in all the wrong men, comforted her.

And Maura had soaked in it, healing her dried roots - a family tree of criminals and their accomplices, a distance between her and Constance of Arthur's making.

And then Jane was touching her again, in real life, shaking Maura from her memories.

"You know I won't let anyone hurt you, don't you?" Jane growled, her voice low and fierce. Her hand gripped Maura possessively for a moment, then it was gone, Jane probably realising how intimate the moment had been and fleeing from the implications.

Maura looked up at her, hurt, then slid her eyes away, down Jane's torso.

"I think I'm more worried about ghosts," Maura said, to cover the awkward moment. She could feel Jane's surprise beside her. "Not literal - or spiritual - ghosts. But the ghost of the path not taken. I'm haunted by possibilities." Maura licked her lips, turning her face away. "Ian asked me to go with him. He always does, but that was the first time I wished I'd gone. And I wonder what my life would be like if I was with him. If someone else would have tried to kill me. It feels inevitable, somehow. But I'd have been working with live people. And you know how I feel about that."

Maura had thought about more than just that one moment. She though about all the ghosts of opportunities past, all the times she could have said something to Jane. All the worlds in which they could have been together.

Jane's surprise hadn't faded. There was an edge of disappointment in it, now.

"I stayed because - for so many reasons, including the legality of the work - I stayed because I love you more than I ever loved him. I would follow you into a collapsing basement, but I wouldn't leave the house for him. I would go with you to the prison hospital of a man who nearly killed you twice, even though you didn't ask me to. I would do anything for you, and you show up for me too. I couldn't trust that he'd keep me safe. But you do."

"I put you in danger." Jane's voice was strained. "I keep putting you in danger. You ran towards a burning car for me. You pulled me out of those tunnels when I would have waited for Tommy and... and Frost." Jane's voice broke again.

"You save me from danger, Jane," Maura insisted. Jane hadn't taken the bait. She'd ignored yet another confession of love from Maura, and it hurt. Maybe next time she should take that kind of chance. Maybe she should leave, and hope that whoever she found would step up for her the way Jane had.

Even if she did, she'd still be haunted by the ghost of what she could have had.

"I called him the love of my life. But I hadn't lived as much, then. I hadn't loved as much. And it would haunt me if I didn't - I have to tell you. It's been a lie I've kept too long."

Jane was fidgeting. Her thumbs under her belt, her fingers fiddling with the front of her pants until she could close them around the belt, drawing Maura's eyes down, then slowly up.

Jane was gorgeous. Maura had said as much, but it was still intimidating to have those scared, uncertain deep brown eyes focused on her like this.

"If there's one true love in my life, it's you, Jane Clementine Rizzoli." Jane rolled her eyes at the use of her middle name, but she didn't try to shush Maura. Didn't try not to hear what she was saying. "You show up for me, every day. You keep me safe. You're the first person to tell my parents how I need to be loved, and it was because you'd figured it own on your own and you were already doing it. I don't think I ever felt loved before I met you. Desired, yes. But you have seen all of me, and you have loved me anyway. And everytime I try to fool myself that some man could measure up against that, I fail."

"You had a bad run, but if you want to date me instead of the rash of criminals you find so attractive, then I guess you're in some desperate times."

"And they call for desperate measures, don't they? I can't live with being haunted by what we could have. I know you don't - I know you love me-"

"I do," Jane admitted quickly. Maura sighed; even after all these years it was a relief to hear Jane affirm it verbally.

"I know," Maura checked the level of her voice. The lab staff were still busy tonight, even at this late hour. "I know you don't want me." Maura felt her voice crack along with her heart now that she'd finally voiced the thought that always haunted her. "But it's been seven years and you deserve to know."

"I already said okay, didn't I?" Jane asked, her voice low and soft, her hands reaching for Maura and pulling her close. "I was trying to say you could do better, if you're this desperate, but I'm not - I won't complain."

"You complain about everything," Maura said, sagging in relief and being caught in the safety of Jane's arms.

"Not about being lucky enough - can we go home? Your lab gremlins are getting a free show and I'm not handing out MA+ tickets."

"Mature Audiences?" Maura asked hopefully.

Jane lowered her mouth to Maura's ear, her voice low and husky. "Implied nudity. Some sexual situations. Viewer discretion advised."

Maura swallowed and let Jane lead her out of the basement, into the parking garage, into the car and back home.

There hadn't been a question of where home was. It was with each other (but it was also, in a more practical sense, Maura's house).

---

Maura woke, the body next to hers familiar, even in its nudity. She ran her palm over the plane of Jane's shoulder blade and mentally calculated several of her vertebral angles, since she had the opportunity without the clothes in the way.

Last night they'd exorcised all their ghosts. All the pasts they'd wanted with each other; the baby they'd wanted to raise together, the yearning to adopt Tasha. It had taken hours to hash it all out, mostly because Jane kept doing the most delicious things with her mouth.

"I was going to say - I forgot to say," Jane yawned and kissed Maura's jaw. "That zombies should be your worst nightmare. You know, all the safe motionless bodies you work on suddenly coming alive. And you'd have to interact with them, like people. And people are your worst nightmare."

"They used to be," Maura said, absently using her finger to measure the curve of the dip in Jane's back. "But the thing I've always been most afraid of is losing you."

Jane looked up, sunlight caught in her hair, her skin bronzed in the dawn sun. Maura could see the guilt there - Jane had shot herself, jumped off a bridge, gone after a witness without backup. Jane had shut down any mention Maura made of attraction to her. Maura had faced her worst fear.

And she'd lived. They both had. Jane smiled uncertainly, as though she wasn't sure she was worth the amount of affection Maura had for her. Maura recognised the look; it was one she'd worn often before she'd met Jane.

She kissed it right off her face. Jane cupped her cheek and closed her eyes, scrunching her face up close against Maura's.

"Please, please let this be real this time," Jane mumbled, but Maura kissed away any doubts Jane could have.

The nightmare was over; there were no more ghosts, just the possibility of a beautiful future. Together.

[maikissed]

the way you come to me at night IV

I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD OH GOD This is so fucking long, fr. It probably needs a lot of fixes but I just wanted to post already. Sorry for any misspellings and typos guys. Love yall. Enjoy!!!

warnings: smut, kids under 18 go away

They grew quite distant in the past few weeks. He’s been acting like an absolute dick and she gave up in her attempts to try and get the answer about his sulky mood out of him. It was frustrating, to say the least, for both of them.

She excruciatingly felt his absence. He was leaving to the training earlier than usual, coming back home late and locking himself in the gym, his room or the office when she was present at home. Of course she’s been trying to talk to him about his sudden behaviour but he just kept dodging off the questions, telling her that it’s just tiredness and stress related to his recurrent injuries. He felt like a coward, just couldn’t bring himself to actually talk to her. Couldn’t muster up the honesty. It started to consume him. And it kept getting worse.

She was being patient with him at the beginning. Gave him space and time to open up to her - they were good friends after all, always shared their worries, talked about everything that was going on in their lives. She didn’t understand why he shut her out all of a sudden. But her attitude towards him changed dramatically after one morning, when she unexpectedly run into one of his one-night stands in the kitchen. He never brought girls to the house when she was at home, out of respect to her. It was also kind of their deal. But one day she came home earlier from her work trip and it just happened. He will never forget the hurt look on her face that morning. She stopped talking to him at all after that. And he hated himself more.

He's been watching the raging storm outside through the big windows, staying on the settee for quite some time now. The weather was rather strange for this time of the year, the pleasantly warm day turned into a downpour before the sunset. The aura of the heavy rain became so calming, it made him absolutely enraptured in the dense veil of running water that covered almost everything in sight. The house was quiet, making the sound of the pouring rain sound like the most soothing lullaby and he truly enjoyed it, rather tired of the hubbub he liked to surround himself most of the time. But this peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by a loud slam of the door and he turned his head in the direction of the hallway, awaiting the appearance of whoever made so much stir about entering the house. In a minute he heard her huff in annoyance from the distance and tensed, preparing himself for another wordless and bitter moment whenever they were passing each other in the hallways. By the sound of the quick and heavy footsteps he could tell that something had upset her. But he didn’t expect the sight that he met the moment she vigorously entered the salon. She stopped abruptly, as if not expecting him to be home at this hour. He took in her appearance, completely soaked, her hair in a wet mess, sticking to her face and her long delicate dress clinging to her body tightly. She looked like she just fell into a pool fully clothed. And she seemed furious.

“What happened?” he frowned concerned.

She just huffed again and turned to head upstairs with no intention to answer him.

“Y/n?” he called out after her but there was yet no response.

So he decided to follow her without a thought, sincerely worried about her fidgety humour. She almost slammed the door in his face but he caught it in time.

“Can you leave?!” she raised her voice at him and he scrunched his eyebrows, taken aback.

During the few years of their friendship he’s never seen her so agitated but there clearly was a strong reason behind her behaviour. He wasn’t planning on leaving her room before trying to find out what’s made her so angry.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Where’s your car?” he asked looking out the window, noticing that the vehicle was nowhere near the yard.

“In hell” she grumbled throwing her purse on the floor “Go away, I need to change”

He nodded simply at her demanding tone, deciding to give her space since she truly looked frustrated and uncomfortable due to her current state. Maybe if she calm down, she’ll talk to him later. But it was doubtful, since the conversation between them has been fading lately.  

He went to his room and it was a few minutes before she burst through the door. It surprised him, really. He looked at her expectantly.

“I can’t handle the zipper of this goddamn dress” she murmured stiffly “Could you help me? Please?”

He could tell she was jittery and mildly uneasy after asking for his help. His heart squished at the thought of what they have become in these past few weeks. The storm visible in her eyes was undeniably more dangerous that the one outside the walls of the house.

He approached her carefully, placing his fingers at the top of the dress. She shivered the moment their flesh made contact. He knew she must be cold, but couldn’t help but wonder if she despised him so. 

“You should take a warm bath” he noted unzipping the dress delicately.

She turned around to face him and he noticed her eyes becoming watery. And it scared him at first.

“You’re so concerned now?” a moment of silence “You barely talked to me for a whole month. Why do you even give a fuck?”

“Y/n…” he sighed but she was ready to pound on him with whatever she had in her.

“No, you’re not getting away with this shit anymore” she crossed her arms on her chest, shooting daggers at him with her keen eyes.

“Do you have any idea how it felt when I tried so hard to get to you and help with whatever you were struggling with this whole time? But you just kept dodging me off like a fucking narcissist you are!”

He shivered at the sound of her tone. She expected an explanation, a reason. But what should he do, what should he say? Feeling like a little boy he stood there, silent, paralyzed and noticed something dark pierce her eyes like a glimmer before she opened her mouth again.

“Tell me, did you find comfort in fucking your girls back again?” she scoffed.

She turned her head to the side, suddenly unable to look at him, as if surprised by her own words. Shame was all he felt in this moment. It did hurt her, all these things he’s been doing lately. The realisation flooded him in all-consuming regret. There was only one thing he should say to her right now, but it might not be enough anymore.

“It’s not like that” he countered weakly.

“I’ve been through some real crap these past few weeks and I didn’t even have anyone to talk about it” her voice turned weaker and she raised her head up to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

He twitched and moved on reflex, thinking about nothing else but to comfort her somehow. But she stepped back instantly, letting him know that she did not wish for him to come any closer. A sharp pain pierced his heart but he stopped nonetheless.

“My boss keeps scolding me for everything lately and my fucking car just stopped in the middle of nowhere, I had no signal in my phone and I had to walk for twenty fucking minutes in pouring rain to call the insurer only to hear that they’re not in service right now” she snorted “Then I had to wait another twenty minutes for a cab” she started rambling shakily, pulling off her soaked dress in frustration in the meantime. He watched her struggles in stupor.

“You could have called me” he said softly, trying to somehow make this situation a bit better.

Maybe it was a pathetic try.

She shot him a cold glare before throwing away the wet dress which landed at the floor with a loud smack. He trembled taking in her appearance – small, beautiful and broken.

“Fuck you” she spit, turning around to walk away but he got to her in few long strides, embracing her cold and shaken body in his arms. She yanked her arm, wanting to break free from his grasp.

But he was stronger.

“Stop it” he grabbed her tighter and she whined feeling helpless “I’m so sorry” he whispered holding her closely, but she did not return the gesture.

Although he could feel her becoming more relaxed.

“Please, let’s get you to a bath first” he whispered looking down at her.

She was avoiding the eye contact at first but when she finally looked up at his face, he noticed her eyes softening. The storm outside calmed as well. So he didn’t wait any longer and bend down placing his hand on the back of her knees to lift her up, carrying her to the bathroom. And she let him, softly placing her arms around his neck. It was a very fragile moment between them but it gave him some indefinite comfort. Hope, that maybe there’s still a chance to make things better, for him to be better for her. They were friends and they loved each other after all.

“Do you need anything?” he asked turning off the tap after filling up the tub, nervous after once again realising she stood in front of him so uncovered, only in her lingerie.

“Could you bring me some pills, please? My head hurts”

“Of course”

When he came back she was already sitting in the bathtub. Her eyes closed, hair still a bit wet tied in a bun on top of her head with a few untamed strands falling down her face. His beautiful, light-hearted girl, how could he treat her so badly?

She looked up at him with her reddened eyes, taking the medicine and the glass of water from his hands. He took it as a hint to leave her be but she stopped him unexpectedly.

“Stay with me for a bit?” she asked quietly and he tensed for a moment but nodded after all, thinking about all the things that still have been left unsaid.

She relaxed when he sat down at the bathtub step, resting her head against the edge of the tub. They stayed silent for a few moments, both of them focused on the sound of their steady breathing, looking the opposite way. It was comforting, this calm and wordless moment, and he was grateful it was given to him. He turned his head to look at her, noticing one more tear decorating her face and leaned in instinctively to wipe it away with his thumb. Her eyes widened slightly and her face contorted in that sweet frown that appeared on whenever she experienced something touching. He didn’t pull back, continuing caressing her cheek gently. He realised how intimate this moment has become, with their wistful eye contact, him leaning over her bare body covered only by a sheet of water overlaid with a thin soap foam. He was so spellbound by the soft contact of their skin he wanted to feel her whole. How overpowering this feeling was - he realised he’s been feeling it all this time. Exhausting.

“Estou apaixonado por você” the words simply left his mouth and he wasn’t even sure if he heard himself properly.

“What?” her voice cracked but she stayed still, examining his face.

“I am in love with you” he repeated in English, releasing a shaky breath “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was afraid that you’ll hate me for it. I guess I’ve chosen the worst way to deal with this, by distancing myself. I’m really sorry for that. But I don’t really remember the time when I wasn’t in love with you”

The room went silent once more but this time every second felt like it might not have an end, like everything stopped so suddenly. He wondered if this was the moment when he lost everything, ruining once and for all the picture she’s had of him so far.

“You’re such an idiot” she whispered calmly and he gulped nodding his head in agreement.

The water stirred when she moved slightly, leaning closer to where he was seated, his gaze desperately focused on her face.

“How do you know?” she kept her voice low and soft and the very little distance between them made him feel like he was trapped, even thought she was the one in a more vulnerable position.

“Know what?” he whispered back, not really understanding the question, absolutely stunned by the colour of her iris in this proximity. 

“That what you’re feeling is love”

He couldn’t fight the amused smirk that appeared on his lips instantly, feeling like she was playing some sort of silly game with him right now.

“You…” he winced fighting that heavy stubbornness which almost knocked him out, making him run away before explaining his feelings. She’d probably never forgive him if he did.

“I dream of you every night”

The look on her face was unreadable which made him even more nervous and anxious. But there was no turning back, it was time for her to see him truly - uncovered, sincere, with his heart on his sleeve. Everything just for her, because she deserved it.

“You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep, and then, when I close my eyes you’re there again. Every single night” he took a deep breath “I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep enough” he leaned back after this confession, trying to calm his mercilessly beating heart “And you are so close, yet never close enough, and I feel like I’m going mad”.

He wiped his face with his hand feeling the sudden heat spreading over his skin and gave in the urge to look back at her shortly after, noticing she gazed at him the way she did in his dreams. Softly, misty and fondly. Cold chills went down his spine and he swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the heavy, stinging lump in his throat.

“Friends is not enough for me, I want all of you” he said more steadily this time “Tell me if I’m asking for too much”

She blinked quickly but never took her eyes away from him. And he was waiting, anticipating the moment she shatters his hearts in million tiny pieces. He could feel it coming. It had a taste, sour, at the tip of his tongue.

“I’ve never apologised to you after what happened last year” she murmured unsurely “I almost forced myself on you and I’ve never brought this up because I was ashamed” she looked down at her hands “I worried it made you think less of me”.

He took her hands in his without a word, trying to give her some comfort and assurance that nothing could make him look down on her. She opened her mouth and closed it, thinking, trying to pick her next words right. He stroked her knuckles with his thumbs, giving her a sign of understanding.

“Every relationship I’ve been in shattered, because I was so lost, so drowned in something so overpowering that it scared me sometimes” she closed her eyes for a second as if trying the give herself some courage “Everything feels… different when I’m with you, when I’m thinking about you…” she fell silent, her eyes started wandering but stopped focused on his lips. It was a moment before she brought them up again, staring right into his soul with her big, dreamy eyes “That’s why I kissed you that night and it only left me needing you even more” she took a shaky breath in, wincing lightly as if it caused her pain.

He placed his hand gently on her cheek, feeling as life finally came back to him with the hardest and warmest beat of his heart. His chest turned heavy and light at the same time, as if something started to grow in it. Hope and affection bloomed in his guts, and the permanent cold he’s been feeling for so long begun to fade away.

“Truth is I’ve always been yours” she whispered this time “I guess we’re both idiots”

He chuckled lightly and she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with joy and tears. She put her palm on top of his hand still placed on her cheek, closing her eyes and leaning in the gentle touch. It elicited a short, longing moan from her and he sighed moving closer to her, placing a sweet kiss on her other cheek, then proceeded to stroke her nose with his. They stayed like this for a minute, simply enjoying their little moment of happiness, both of them relieved they’ve got to keep what they had and more. So much more.

She put her hands on his neck with her eyes still closed. He could feel them shaking slightly, either of nervousness or excitation. Or both. She turned her head placing her lips softly on top of his but it did not turn into a kiss right away. Again they stayed still, simply losing themselves in this sweet bit of being close to each other, breathing in themselves, thriving with a promise of a beautiful love that they’ve finally let to grow in and between them. She licked her lips and her tongue slightly brushed his upper lip and he twitched finally giving in, granting her a delicate, enduring kiss. She sighed and moved her head to the side to deepen it shortly after. Nothing could ever compare to this feeling, he thought. The room was filled with the sounds of the bubbles breaking in the water, their slow breathes and their lips, reconnecting in the slowest, gentlest of kisses. She gripped his nape tighter and he broke the contact.

“Are you trying to pull me in the tub?” he murmured jokingly and she giggled against his lips.

“I’ll leave you so you can finish your bath” he suggested, not truly ready to let go of her so soon.

“No, I think I’m done actually. Pass me the towel, please?”

He stood up to grab it and froze in place after turning around again, seeing her absolutely naked and so wet in front of him. His eyes shamelessly roamed her whole body slowly, focusing on how the drops of water flowed down her skin, tracing every curve, flowing faster every time she took another breath. And he was out of breath, feeling his limbs growing weaker and his chest tighter, absolutely mesmerized by her presence. And she was even more ethereal than in his dreams. She smiled sweetly at him and his knees almost gave up.

“Richy, the towel” she reminded him.

He nodded, feeling flustered, approaching her on shaky legs. He was considering his next move, but decided on wrapping her body in the cloth. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him once more, her hands placed on his biceps.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” she asked innocently and he needed a moment to actually respond to her.

“Of course, querida”

She smiled again after his response and steeped away to go to her room, leaving him stupefied and overwhelmed. He was endlessly in love with her and entirely bound to her wants and needs.

He decided to take a shower as well before joining her in her room, her bed. She asked him to sleep with her, it had more than just one meaning and he couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked after steeping out of the bath. He didn’t want to rush things up too soon if she wasn’t ready for it. Maybe they have to take it as slow as they should. But she wanted to share a bed with him. And this thought made him so excited, his stomach started turning funnily. He felt like a teenager.

She was brushing her hair when he entered her room, bearing a few snacks since she haven’t got anything to eat after she came back home.

“Is that for me?” she walked up to him snatching a strawberry from the plate.

Once again, he needed a moment to respond, too focused on a short, silky nightdress she was wearing. This time he knew she chose it specifically for him. The thought made his groin twitch in his pants.

“I thought you might be hungry”

“Thank you” she leaned in to kiss his neck and he smirked cheekily, realising that she truly enjoyed making him all hot and bothered.

The night was still very young, the sky not yet turned fully dark but it was dusk. The room was lit by a tall lamp in the corner. It was surely not their general bed time hour but they did not intend on making themselves wait. 

“Come” she sat down on the bed, removing the sheets.

He took his shorts and t-shirt off and started to wonder how visible his excitement is through his boxers. He did not dare to look down, but she did, very briefly and once again he smirked watching as she tried to play it cool by blinking fast and readjusting her position on the mattress. He laid on his side, her on her back, and moved very close to her body, placing his head on his hand for support. She smiled before saying something very unexpected.

“Tell me about your dreams”

He looked at her not really knowing what he should say.

“Well, it’s you and me, a great deal of you” he raised his hand to tuck a few strands of her hair behind her ear “Us…”

“Fucking?” she asked innocently and he chuckled nervously.

“Do you have to be so vulgar?”

“So?” she bit her lip coyly.

“Yes” he whispered drawing his eyes down her chest “A lot of it, to be honest”

“Mmm” she murmured pulling his head down with her hand, connecting their lips again.

He groaned after tasting her once more, this time the kiss was rougher, filled with need and desperation. They’ve been denying themselves this pleasure for far too long. So he moved his hand down her body, placing it at her knee, moving it higher up her thigh very, very slowly. She slowed down the kiss and eventually stopped, turning her focus entirely to his touch. Then she moved her legs, pulling them up and opening them wider for him under the sheets, so ready for his attention. He focused his gaze on her face, noticing how she kept chewing on her lower lip, her pupils dark and big, concentrating, awaiting. She grabbed his forearm when he reached the apex of her thighs, roaming her labia with his fingers very patiently.

“Pull the sheets down” he instructed.

She removed the covers as he said, processing to hike her dress up a little bit too. She kept looking at him while doing so and he was so intoxicated, he swore in his thoughts he could smell her. Focused on the way his fingers kept playing with her ever so gently he started to wonder if it’s not another one of his beautiful dreams. But she interrupted his rush of thoughts.

“Please” she whispered pleadingly.

The sound of her little voice stirred him and he switched his position to hover over her, making her eyes turn bigger when she noticed how firm and strong he looked, trapping her beneath him.   

“Meu doce, you don’t have to beg me for anything”

She gasped the moment he put one of his fingers inside of her, slowly but surely. He started to study her face, wanting to see her, to recollect what exactly drew the most pleasure out of her. He didn’t wait long before adding another finger to fill her more properly and she moaned softly, spreading her thighs even wider. His head started spinning. She trusted him, ready to open herself fully for him. Her hips bucked up when he sped up his movements and her eyes shot open, lids visibly heavy, her chest rising and falling faster every passing second. She started to move, trying to keep up with him. Her erratic breathing turned into more frequent sighs and little whines. And she kept looking him right in the eyes, enchanting him, bounding him to her tighter.

“I think of you” she breathed “Every time I touch myself”

Her words and the way her eyes sparkled after this confession made him go frenzy and he groaned leaning down to kiss her hard. She yelped when his digits appeared to sink deeper inside her core and she started whimpering against his mouth. He gritted his teeth trying to control himself, since all the sensations turned him so aroused, he felt as he could come any second. And he haven’t even feel her properly yet. Pathetic, he thought. But no girl ever affected him the way she did. And it felt right.

She came on his fingers with his name on her lips and it’s been a bliss, for both of them. With her glossy eyes, cheeks rosy and mouth slightly ajar she looked like the prettiest image of love, desire and delight impersonated. He brought his hand up to his face, all the while watching her attentively, and put his fingers in his mouth, tasting her, smirking when he noticed how her face quickly turned beet red.

“Don’t go all shy now” he murmured when she squirmed under him.

“Shut up” she huffed in response making that funny face she did whenever she was irritated by his petty little comments.

He grabbed the edges of the nightdress she was wearing, removing it, and leaned back to take a proper look at her.

“Stop staring” she nudged him with her knee.

“You’re so beautiful, I love looking at you”

He smiled at the way her lashes fluttered quickly, noting that she did that every time when feeling shy or nervous. It was cute. It only made him want to play with her, to taunt her a little bit since he had her so stunned and fragile. Grabbing her foot he lifted her leg up, proceeding to kiss every inch of her skin, with his hands traveling every place his lips couldn’t reach. She moved her head to the side when he made his way to her neck and whimpered softly as he grazed her throat with his teeth. She wrapped her legs around his middle and brought him closer, humming delighted when their pelvises touched. 

“How do you want me?” she whispered against his mouth and he shivered at the way this question sounded out.

“Just like that baby, I wanna see you”

He kissed her one last time before moving away to sit on the verge of the bed. He reached for the drawer in the nightstand to find something he’s put in there some time ago. He left her some condoms a while ago, because he obviously didn’t trust any fucker she’s ever dated.

“You haven’t used much of it” he smiled back at her cheekily.

“Well, I don’t get as much game as you, playboy” she snickered shyly.

“It’s fine, we’ll use it in no time”

She snorted at his comment and he hopped back on the bed shortly after, grabbing her ankles to yank her down a little bit. She squeaked as she didn’t expect it.

“We don’t want you to bump your head, do we?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“You are so thoughtful” she whispered before laughing under her breath.

The gentle smile never left his face as he thrived in this joyous moment between them, as they finally loosen up, feeling safe and comfortable with each other in this very new situation. He lowered his body above her and she threw her hands loosely around his neck. For a few seconds they stayed still, simply looking at each other, revelling in the closeness and intimacy. One of her palms slid down his neck and chest gently, reaching down to place him at her entrance. He moved slightly, pushing in carefully and she winced momentarily, making him stop and search her eyes for more sings of discomfort.

“No, it’s ok. Go on” she breathed against his lips.

So he moved again, slower this time, letting her get used to the feeling, not wanting to hurt her. She frowned and squirmed when he sank deeper inside of her and he grunted at the sensation so familiar yet so new. His muscles tensed and he took a deep breath trying to control himself from going too fast or too rough on her. When he opened his eyes he spotted her already looking up at him, her nails lightly grazing his nape. She seemed relaxed.

“I’m not made of glass, don’t worry” she murmured and rose up to kiss him sweetly.

Kissing her back he yet continued keeping a gentle and slow rhythm and she cried out when he slid back into her. Bringing his hand down to grab her hip he pounded down harsher and she choked on her moan as her back arched up. Her hands were traveling across his chest and shoulders, her nails marking him after every rough thrust of his hips. Moving his hand to snake it around her middle he grasped her body tighter, keeping her in place. She whined throwing her head to the side, accompanying his low moan.

“Come here” he breathed lifting her up, so she straddled him.

Looking down at him she moved trying to take control but he wasn’t planning on letting her, as he fucked up into her roughly. She mewled surprised and he could feel her tighten around him. He knew he couldn’t keep it up in this position for long, supported only by one hand placed on the mattress, so after few thrust he straighten up, grabbing her hips to guide her against him, barely letting her adjust to the pace. She placed her hands on his face, caressing his cheeks gently with her fingers brushing his nose and the outline of his lips.

“God, you’re so handsome” she whispered out of breath and he smiled cheekily before closing the distance between them to kiss her again “And you’re mine” she moaned “You’re stuck with me now”

He chuckled at her remark and looked her in the eyes deeply.

“I’m yours”