#this makes no sense about anything ever shush leave me alone

[redwinterroses]

headcanon that Scar is the only one we don't see die after winning a Life series because time is a loop and he moved on alone in the world, which then became the start of his The Crafting Dead series.

[ddarker-dreams]

Forgive me if this sort of thing has been explored before but picture this scenario: Chrollo coming home to darling having a panic attack. Why? What's going on?? She won't tell him, because it's a panic attack triggered by a phobia of something very mundane. She doesn't want him to know she has a phobia and she definitely doesn't want him to know what kind of phobia. To give an example let's say she has an irrational fear of mice. RIDICULOUS. He mustn't know. Lie lie lie distract disengage.

THIS ........ this setup does something for me........... i've recently fixated on this concept where you wake up from an awful nightmare, something like chrollo coldly ordering your death and for it to be as painful as possible.

you wake up, tears on your cheeks and sweat causing your nightwear to adhere to your skin. you're met with an unusual sight — chrollo's side of the bed is empty. cold, too. he must have been gone for a while now. any other night, this detail wouldn't arouse suspicion. if anything, it'd cause relief, that you've finally caught a break from his ever-watchful eye.

then your mind reminds you that chrollo isn't your only foe. it replays those images, those sounds, snapping and squelching as your grisly end nears.

you do what you can to calm yourself. splashing cold water on your face, drinking water, wiping the sweat from your brow; the way you go about everything is mechanical. he could do it, your thoughts taunt. this isn't the monster of your bed — waking up doesn't make the threat disappear. it only brings you closer.

with shaking hands, you open the door separating the bedroom from a moderately sized living space. you shove your pride aside and call out his name. softly, at first, and then at your normal speaking volume. nothing. would he really leave you on your own for this long without setting up precautions?

or maybe... is he preparing to finally do away with you?

the world goes on without your senses bothering to process anything. your body reacts like it would if an apex predator was gaining on you; all-consuming adrenaline, unsteady breathing, trembling limbs. this unrelenting whirlpool pushes you down to abyssal depths.

you're running out of air and it's too deep to surface.

then you hear a voice you recognize.

chrollo's kneeling down beside you, eyebrows furrowing, a prominent frown on his face. he rarely reveals this much emotion, small as it is. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning, attempting to piece together the situation and its severity. his hand is steady on your shoulder and the timbre of his voice soothes you. it's so consistent, so reliable, he always seems to know what to do and what to say.

you don't care to dwell on these bizarre thoughts. not now, not when you feel like you're drowning. an anchor is an anchor, even if it's a man you've sworn to loathe. it's okay to seek comfort, isn't it? no one could judge you. you can't judge yourself, either. you've been through so much — now and in the past — what's wrong with accepting the sweet fruit he's tempted you with?

you latch yourself to him. it isn't graceful or romantic, it's clinging to the lifeline that pushed you overboard to begin with. he lets out a soft sound at the ferocity of your grip. anyone else would've been knocked over by the sheer exertion of force, but chrollo didn't even budge. he must decide to discern the specifics later as he doesn't prod at you with questions. no, he reciprocates the embrace with an ardor that would've sickened you any other time.

you're babbling incoherently and yet he picks up enough to hazard a guess at what brought this about. he reassures you that he'd never harm you, that the thought alone makes him feel emotions he thought himself incapable of. he hugs you close, rubs his hands over your back, presses lingering kisses to your temple, and shushes you.

exhaustion catches up near the final tears you've shed. chrollo keeps himself still so as not to disturb you when you fall unconscious. he picks you up gently, brings you back to your side of the bed and puts you down. fondness envelops his heart at your now peaceful visage. he smooths out a stray hair cascading down your face.

all he intended to do was make a quick phone call, but coming back to you, with your glassy eyes and trembling lips, essentially attaching yourself to him like he's your sole source of comfort ... he might need to pinch himself to ensure he isn't dreaming.

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

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

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

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

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

[hellskitchenswhore]

Heads up motherfuckers because while I cannot write for shit I absolutely CAN drunken ramble and here comes a doozie

I recently started Call the Midwife, and while childbirth and the entire concept of being pregnant horrify me in general and I’m perfectly happy never to participate in them, Matt Murdock is the only character I’ve ever even been able to imagine it with. So without further ado,

Matt Murdock x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons

You’re absolutely terrified when you find out. Matt senses your panic on the way home and bursts in to find you sitting on the bathroom floor in shock, hand clenched over your mouth so hard you’re sure to bruise. Violent sobs fight their way out as your body starts to shake, but he wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you through every second.

Your mind is racing and you try to apologize between gasps for air, trying to talk to him about his own stake in the situation, but he just softly shushes you, taking the splintered plastic test from where it’s clenched in your hand. “Hey hey, don’t even think about that sweetheart, just let me take care of you right now”

That first night you don’t talk about anything. You never get to. Every time you think the sobs are passed, another wave of panic overtakes you. Eventually the exhaustion of it all drags your mind and body to sleep in Matt’s arms. He knows there will be time for talk later. Tonight, you’re suffering, and nothing else matters, not even his own racing thoughts.

You’ve never seen a future with kids, but you also never imagined you’d find someone like Matt to spend your life with. Never imagined a future where you could be free and safe at the same time.

Matt knows you never wanted them and he respects the hell out of that. He doesn’t need kids to be happy, but he does need you, and he’ll stand by you no matter what. Over the next week you talk through every fear - his and yours - and eventually decide that this is something you want - together.

For the first few days after making the decision, he keeps both ears on you at all times. Your heart is pounding in your chest with the stress of it, even you can hear it. Matt doesn’t dare leave you alone, even to go on patrol, in case it all comes flooding back in again. Instead he lies next to you and listens to the gentle sounds of your sleep, the first time your hearts relaxed all day. But bit by bit the idea settles in to your mind, and you body follows suit, until one day you wake with nothing but the gentle sound of your calm, relaxed heartbeat echoing softly in Matt’s ears

Which is exactly when the morning sickness starts.

[sugarpsalms]

Made-up fic title:

To hold a god is to make him pray.

Hung onto this one for a bit because I wanted to think on it, and I've decided this has mildly uncomfy trust exercise vibes. It's another one of my favorite team building devices, pretty much tied with 'reluctant buddy mission'. Since I did Law & Doffy for that, let's do Rosi & Doffy for this.

I've been thinking about how fun it'd be to revisit the idea of Rosi being wired ever since the first installment of No Loyalty. Not in a 'for real' way, but in a 'testing Doffy's faith' way. This is kind of the perfect vibe for it, so! Let's go under a cut!

—

The timeline is vague, but it'd have to be far enough along in Rosi's mission that Doffy no longer really suspects anything. He's got to be comfortable enough that the idea of Rosi spying is out of mind, because that makes it feasible that Rosi could get away with it if he wanted.

So, Rosi shows up. Doffy knows he's coming and plans to meet him at the dock bar, which Rosi agrees to—provided Doffy waits for Rosi to approach him. This sounds like an odd request, but whatever. Doflamingo isn't all that worried about who does what.

He heads out around when Rosi should be debarking, taking his time on the walk. When he gets there, Rosi is already inside. Only, he's not alone. He's having a drink with someone else in Marine uniform, and suddenly it makes sense, why Doffy needs to wait.

He goes to the bar, gets his own drink, and nurses it by himself, listening in as best he can. He can't make out what they're saying, but the chat sounds friendly. They seem to get along, and Doffy can't help but wonder what the nature of their relationship is.

Eventually, the meeting ends. Rosi and the other Marine get up, say goodbye, and the stranger leaves. Rosi comes to Doffy, who spins his stool around and goes to say something, but Rosi stops him, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Confused, Doflamingo tries mumbling through his fingers, but Rosi shakes his head and shushes him. Before Doflamingo can get annoyed, Rosi uses his free hand to gesture to his chest. He draws a line from his collar to his hip and mouths that he's wired.

Doflamingo goes stiff. He hadn't had so much as a passing thought about Rosi being wired in over a year. What was he wearing one now for? Was he recording the person who just left? Why? Who authorized it? Did Rosi do this often?

Before he can spiral too deeply, Rosi mouths 'follow me', leaving the bar and making for the hall. Doflamingo goes after him, feeling uneasy when Rosi slips into the bathroom. Still, he follows and locks the door behind them.

Then, as if this is routine, Rosi takes his coat and shirt off. And Doflamingo sees it: the thin wire coiled all around him, the mic nestled in the hollow of his collar bone, and the tiny transponder it's attached to snug against his hip.

Rosi lets him take it in, then waves for his attention. When he has it, he mouths 'I'm disconnecting it.' Which he does, methodically; rather more, Doflamingo thinks, than he probably would've if he was alone.

Rosi makes a show of popping the mic off and crushing it; stripping out of the wire; snapping the wire off of the transponder at the base. He even slips the snail out of his wasitband and passes it to Doffy.

"I'll need it back," Rosi says as Doflamingo rolls the thing in his hand, checking to see if it's really dozing. "It's evidence."

Doflamingo hesitates. "Of what?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. Give it back, please."

Doflamingo holds onto the snail a bit longer, unsure if he should. The accessories are broken, yes, but it could still record. Even if the quality would be poor...

He looks from the sleepy snail to Rosi's bare chest, to the broken mic and wire.

He's being ridiculous.

Rosi didn't have to do this, he reassures himself. Doflamingo wouldn't have suspected—no, best not to think of it like that.

Doffy didn't have to suspect him. That was better; that felt nicer. Rosi is open. Rosi can be trusted.

He gives the snail back.

[soulofapatrick]

Hypnotised - Derek Hale

Summary: You think your boyfriend Derek is dead but find out something more heartbreaking 

Words: 852

Warning: angst

Y/N’s POV 

"Y/N, you gotta keep going," Stiles scoots into the seat next to me, being the only one to truly see how much I'm struggling with Derek's death, "Derek wouldn't want you to be sad."

"But-"

"Y/N," He shushes me and pulls me into a tight hug that has me squeezing my eyes shut tightly to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. I can't cry here, on the coach back from the lacrosse trip and especially after last night in that creepy hotel, "Try get some sleep okay." I just nod into his shirt and let the exhaustion take over.

---------

Upon waking I find I'm in Stiles' jeep and we're outside the loft... Derek's loft. I know why I'm here but I don't think I can do it. Stiles stays quiet and I love that about my brother - he knows when I need him to comfort me and when I just need him to be a silent constant in my life. Now is a silent constant I need to get my thoughts together.

He eventually places a hand over mine, meeting my gaze with soft cognac eyes, "Okay, okay I'm going." I nod, "C-can you wait for me?"

"Of course." He squeezes my hand reassuringly before letting me get out.

The walk up the the loft feels like the longest walk I have ever done and I have to stop ever so often, wanting to turn around and run back down the stairs. After what feels like forever I'm standing in front of the door, shaking and the jaguar side of me becoming almost overwhelmed by the scent that is so... Derek.

The first thing I see is blood, lots of it. Then the bed and it's not empty. No. Derek's there, passed out and bandaged up and he's obviously not alone. A door opens somewhere in the loft and I can't stop the defensive hiss that leaves my throat as I lay eyes upon her... Jennifer Blake. She's wearing one of Derek's shirts and her trousers are thrown somewhere on the floor as all she's in is Derek's shirt.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" I shriek but before I can even think about lunging at the stupid bitch I'm being grabbed and dragged out of the loft by someone with a very familiar scent: motor oil, old books and coffee. Stiles.

"We're going home," He tells me as he manhandles me into the passenger side of the jeep, "Put your claws away!" He adds before shutting the door and climbing into the drivers side. I've seen Stiles angry but not this angry, especially when he speed dials Scott and starts practically screaming that has even me, a werejaguar, cowering in my seat.

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

I barely remember getting home and Stiles making me dinner as all I can see is Derek - my boyfriend - in bed with my English teacher. The evening blurs past with Stiles and Scott, who gets dragged over by a still fuming Stiles, doting over me. I think I remember one of them running me a bath and getting me into bed because I can't stop crying, finally understanding all those heartbreak songs. I cried myself to sleep and I know Scott could hear from downstairs.

----

I get woken a few hours later by the familiar slide of my window opening and closing  and suddenly my senses are filled with all things Derek. I whine into the scent but then again I don't know how to feel so I just roll away from the Alpha. He doesn't get to feel hurt yet the pain pheromones are all I can damn smell.

"Just... just listen okay Baby," The bed dips and a shaking hand is placed on my hip, pausing to see if I shake him off but I just can't bring myself too, "I really don't know what happened. Ever since you, Scott and Stiles called me in about the birds in the classroom and I met Jennifer... well, it's felt like I've been hypnotised in some way. Every action I've done has been me... but not me."

"Hypnotised?" I ask quietly, still facing the wall and keeping my eyes squeezed shut.

"Like Jennifer has had some spell on me. She kissed me and I did fight but..." He pauses, as if struggling for the right words, "It was as if my will was suddenly stripped from me. I didn't want anything from Jennifer." He tells me and I shuffle around a bit, unsure whether to believe him or not, "Y/N, I only want you."

"But they age gap and Jennifer's more your age and-"

"Y/N," He pushes me onto my back, climbing over me and holding my face in his hands so I have no choice but to look into his sunflower eyes as he speaks, punctuating every word, " I. Only. Want. You."

"Me?"

"I love you,"

"Love?"

"Yes, you."

I'm surging up, capturing his lips in a kiss and just relishing in the feel of Derek. He's mine and I'm not letting him go.

"You still have to face Stiles."

"Fuck."

[sequinsmile-x]

Even Statues Crumble if They’re Made to Wait - Part 2

She can't stop thinking about the fact she isn't even meant to be here. That she's still supposed to be at home on maternity leave instead of sitting in a church in Colorado wondering if she'd ever see her husband or her little girl again.

A Minimal Loss AU with a Young Hotchniss twist.

Part 2/4

Part 1

-x-

Hi friends,

thanks for the love on part one!!

Since I have the self control of a toddler with access to a credit card in literally all aspects of my life, this fic is now 4 parts, not 3. Originally this was going to go back and forth between Emily and Aaron's perspective, but then I was at over 4k with just Emily's...so I decided to split them!

Part 3 and 4 will be up over the weekend <3

Let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 4k

Warnings: Emily Prentiss whump, canon typical violence, descriptions of violence

Read over on A03, or below the cut

April 1995 

She blows out a slow breath as she looks at herself in the mirror, her hands slightly shaky as she smoothes out the material of her black dress, making sure there were no obvious creases. 

“Sweetheart, are you almost ready to go?” 

She looks at him in the mirror, their eyes meeting from where he is standing several paces behind her, and she shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

It was more honest than she felt she should be, but he’d never judged her for anything. He’d never done anything other than love her and she was too exhausted, emotionally and physically from the last couple of weeks, to even try and pretend she wanted to hide anything from him. He made everything calmer, softer. Just having him in the same room brought her a sense of peace she was once sure she’d never get to experience. Even today, on one of the hardest days of her life so far, he made her feel better. She did the same for him. She was his port in a storm just as much as he was hers. Their relationship had always had this kind of give and take, a relentless type of love for each other that she now isn’t sure she could ever live without. 

“Mom is going to be…” she blows out a shaky breath and it catches in her throat, aching as it escapes as a humourless laugh, “She’s going to be difficult today,” she turns and looks at him, her arms crossed over her chest, “When she grieves she lashes out. When my grandfather died she was awful,” she presses her lips together in an attempt to stop them from trembling, “She told me I was a disappointment when I snuck a couple of drinks at the funeral,” she wipes a tear from her cheek, “Told me I was a disappointment to Granddad too,” she shakes her head as a sob break breaks free, loud and painful as she covers her face with her hands, “How ridiculous is that? I’m burying my dad today and I’m thinking about what my mom is going to say.” 

The way her face crumples, her strong hold on her emotions giving way in front of him, makes him move, finally stepping towards her from where he had been rooted to the spot. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close as she collapses against him. She grasps the back of his jacket, grabbing fistfuls of it in a way he knows will crease it but he doesn’t care. He cups the back of her head, his blunt nails scratching lightly at her scalp as he shushes her, his lips against her forehead. 

“I’m right here, Em,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back, “And I’ll be right with you the whole time,” he says, pulling back to look at her. He wipes a tear from her cheek, his touch so gentle it makes her ache, “You don’t have to do things like this alone anymore,” he smiles at her, the half smile she loves so much, “It’s one of the upsides of having a husband who’s entirely obsessed with you.” 

She chokes out a laugh and nods, the brief moment of joy, of happiness, all too fleeting as she rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Thank you.” 

“For what, sweetheart?” He asks, his hand still running up and down her back. She pulls back to look at him again and smiles sadly, leaning in to stamp her lips quickly against him.

“For loving me enough to make me laugh on a day like today.” 

He kisses her cheek, “Always.”

It’s as hard as she thought it would be. She feels like she’s on display, her grief a grim sideshow that everyone wants to see a moment of. She sits between her mother and Aaron in the pew, her eyes fixed on her father’s casket, tears she couldn’t stop burning paths down her cheeks, sticky and warm as they slip down her neck. 

The day mostly passes in a blur as people she recognises but doesn’t remember the names of pass on their condolences, stories about her father echoing around them all, their versions of him so different to her own. She just about bites her tongue when Elizabeth introduces her and Aaron to an old friend, someone Emily hadn’t seen since she was young, and manages to mention that they’d eloped a year and a half ago. A sad smile fixed on her face as she lamented it meant her husband had never got the chance to give away his only daughter. 

Emily had stepped away after that, her smile as tight as Aaron’s grip on her as she excused herself to give herself a minute, guilt she knew she shouldn’t feel lingering in her gut. She didn’t regret her choices at all. She loved Aaron, she loved the simplicity of their wedding - something they never would have got if Elizabeth had even been remotely involved. She’d always been closer to her dad than she had been her mother, but the relationship was still strained, still never what she’d wanted. When she told her parents that she’d eloped with Aaron, a man they’d only known as one of their security details until he was suddenly their son-in-law, they’d reacted poorly. She knew it was a shock, that they needed some room to come to terms with it, but some of the things that had been said still hurt almost 18 months later.

If she wasn’t as in love with Aaron as she was, if their relationship was already fraying at the seams like everyone told her it would be, she knows she’d have stuck it out to the bitter end just to prove her parents wrong. Now her dad would never get to see her have the life she wanted, he’d never get to watch as she had children of her own one day and made vastly different decisions to the ones he and Elizabeth had. And, in her worst moments, Emily thinks that was what hurt the most - that she’d never be able to prove to him that she was more than what he’d always thought she was. 

“How are you doing?” 

She turns to look at her husband, her lips pressed together as she looks around her parents’ home, “I always hated this place.” 

“I know you did,” he replies, wrapping his arm around her, hooking it over her shoulders so she can sink into his side.

“It was never home,” she says, sipping her wine, looking around the sea of faces in the room, people she knew her father hated mourning his death as if they’d been friends, “I never really had one,” she tilts her head to look up at him, “Until you.” 

He pulls her closer to kiss the side of her head and he squeezes her arm, desperate to press as much love onto her skin as he can, wanting to make sure she remembered how loved she was by him. 

“I never had a home until you either.” 

___

Things go wrong almost immediately. 

It takes everything in her not to react when the social worker is killed in front of them. It makes her tense in a way she hadn’t expected. It’s not the worst thing she’s ever seen, not by a long shot, but she’d spent the last 10 weeks wrapped up in a baby bubble. Every single thing she had thought or done in that time had been about Alice and getting used to being a mother to her, every second dedicated to getting to know her daughter. 

It’s a sharp return to the violence of her job, of the world she had voluntarily entered years ago, that she wasn’t prepared for. All of her husband’s assurances that this would be a simple case gone in the half-second it takes Cyrus to shoot the woman who Emily had only met a couple of hours previously.  She watches Cyrus carefully, dusting off her profiling skills as he skulks around, ordering his followers what to do with an ease that lets her know he’s aware of his power over the people here. The thought of it bothers her, makes her skin itch, because she knows how these things often end up. That Cyrus is not the kind of man to give up that power now things were slowly slipping through his fingers.

She blows out a breath as she sits next to Spencer in one of the pews in the church, smiling tightly at him as he looks at her. She tries to hide a wince as she sits, the movement making her breasts ache. She should have been back at the hotel by now, should have either fed Alice or pumped again. Her breasts were slowly filling up, a persistent ache building in her chest and she curses herself for not bringing the pump with her at least so she could relieve some of the discomfort she knows is only going to get worse during the time they were here. 

She knows she hasn’t covered the pain well when Spencer’s brows knit together in concern, “Emily-”

“I’m okay,” she says, cutting him off and looking around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation, “Just uncomfortable. That’s all.”

He stares at her for a moment before clearing his throat, clearly a little embarrassed about what he was about to say, “Cabbage leaves or ice packs help with breast engorgement.” 

She chuckles despite the situation they found themselves in, the danger lingering in the air, making it almost as thick and cloying as the Colorado heat, “I’m not going to ask how you know that,” she replies dryly, “And I don’t exactly see any cabbage leaves or ice packs around here, do you?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I’ll be fine.” 

He nods, “Hotch will probably already be outside figuring out how to get you out of here.” 

Her smile slips a little because she knows it’s true. She knows that the moment her husband found out what had happened here he’d be taking charge, that he’d have immediately headed to the command post with their daughter in his arms. She gets it. She’d do the same thing, not able to sit in a hotel room doing nothing whilst her husband was in danger, but she doesn’t want Alice near any of this. The thought of it makes her breath catch in her throat, the mental image of Aaron standing outside with their tiny daughter in his arms enough to make her falter. 

“Yeah,” she chokes out, forcing a shaky smile as she looks back at him, “You’re right. The team will be on their way and everything. We’ll be home soon.” 

Her attention is dragged to the front, Cyrus’s righteous announcement everyone had drunk poison ringing out around them, hanging in the air along with the panic it creates until he admits it was just a test of loyalty. She looks back at Spencer, and sees the same concern in his eyes that she feels spark in her belly, a sense of dread she can’t shake off that makes her wish she’d never agreed to it in the first place. 

She smiles at Spencer, hoping it’s encouraging as she watches Cyrus and his men mobilise, the suspicious looks they throw towards them setting fire to the spark of concern low in her gut. She feels it spread throughout her body, burning her from the inside out, the feeling that this wasn’t anywhere near over yet overwhelming her.

“Let’s hope the team figure it out sooner rather than later,” she says, not sure if she’s trying to reassure Spencer or herself. 

___

She avoids eye contact with Spencer as they get led down a hallway, an unfamiliar hand buried deep in her hair as she gets dragged along. Her eyes flick to Spencer, and she sees the fear he doesn’t cover quite well enough, something she knows Cyrus will latch on to as well.

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus spits, his fury thrumming in the small space they are in. The air thick with it, making it hard to suck in a breath. 

“What are you talking about?” Emily asks, feigning innocence as she flashes Spencer a look, quietly pleading for him to stay silent, “Why do you think one of us is an FBI Agent?” 

Cyrus’s grip on his gun tightens along with his jaw, “It was all over the news. I know it’s one of you. God will forgive me for what I must do.” He clicks the safety off of his gun and points it at Spencer’s head. 

Emily looks at Spencer, sees the calculation he’s making. Selfless, stupid bravery she knows he’s picked up from a little too much time with Derek. She knows she has to beat him to it, the words slipping past her lips before she can fully think it through.

“It’s me.” 

For a moment, everything is silent. One brief second of peace stretched out between them as what she has admitted settles around them. 

Then he grabs her. Pulls her up by the hair with such force she yells out, unable to stop the reaction she likes to think she’d usually be able to control. He throws her against a wall, a mirror smashing against her that she hears more than feels, the slice of the glass that cuts her arm a delayed sensation, something she can’t quite match up with what’s happening to her. 

She isn’t sure if she trips or if he pushes her to the ground, but before she can figure it out he’s kicking and punching her. His steel-capped boots connecting with wherever he can hit her, forcing oxygen out of her lungs as her ribs crack, leaving her gasping and breathless, as she grunts in pain. When he kicks her in the stomach she places her hands over it to protect it, a deeply ingrained instinct to keep her baby safe as if her body and brain hadn’t entirely caught up with the fact she hadn’t been pregnant in over two months. She feels two of her fingers break with the force of it, her wedding rings pushed into her skin in a way that for the first time ever brings pain instead of comfort. 

She looks over at the boxes of food and supplies the FBI had sent in, and she knows there will be listening devices in there - that her friends will be hearing all of this. She knows them well enough to know their instinct would be to storm the place, to force their way in and save her and as many people as they could, but that couldn’t happen. They couldn’t let Cyrus have the final showdown he was looking for and turn him into a hero in some twisted folklore. 

She prays to a god she isn’t entirely sure she believes in that her husband isn’t the one listening in, that he’d be spared this, as she sucks in a breath to seal her fate. 

“I can take it.” 

Her words have the effect she knew they’d have on Cyrus. They rile him up, make him angrier as he continues his assault on her, and she can only hope the others will have understood the message. 

“I can take it,” she repeats, her words morphing into a groan as the pain takes over, everything else fading into the background other than Cyrus’s callous instruction. 

“Tie her up,” he insists, “Take her upstairs.” 

She’s aware that she’s fading in and out of consciousness. Everything hurt. Her head. Her ribs. Her stomach. Every part of her body seemingly battered and bruised as she lay on the bed she’d been dumped on, barely able to move, 

“You shouldn’t have lied about who you were.”

She just about lifts her head as Kathy, Jessica’s mother, walks into the room. She’s got a washcloth in her hand, something soft and gentle about her as she sits on the edge of the bed and dabs at the blood Emily can feel drying on her face. 

“He said this would happen,” Kathy carries on, barely making eye contact, “It was the prophecy.” 

Emily holds back a scoff, not wanting to upset the fragile woman who was helping her, the trust between them as delicate as she was, “A self-fulfilling prophecy.” 

Kathy ignores her as she continues to clean some of the blood from her face, “He’s a dangerous man to lie to.”

Emily breathes out slowly, suppressing a groan when it hurts. She watches Kathy for a moment, before she carefully brings up what she’d noticed earlier.

“It would take a very brave woman to lie to him knowing what it would cost,” she says and Kathy freezes, pulling back from her entirely, “It would have to be because of something very important.” Kathy stands up, her hands tight around the washcloth as she turns her back to Emily, and she panics, not wanting to lose her chance to get some information that could help save her life, “I have a daughter too,” Emily says, the mention of Alice makes her voice shake, a vulnerability she’d once only had when it came to Aaron. She knew she’d adjust eventually, that she would get used to spending time away from her, but she couldn’t get past the fact that she shouldn’t even be here, “I’d do anything to protect her.” 

Kathy freezes and turns back to look at her, not getting any closer, “How old is she?” 

She presses her lips together, “10 weeks.”

Kathy frowns as she looks at Emily, “They’re so innocent when they are that small,” she smiles wistfully, as if wishing for the days when her life was different, “Life changes that.” She stares at Emily for a moment before she walks over quickly, moving fast so she can’t change her mind. She undoes the binds on Emily’s hands, “Listen to what he says,” she warns her as she steps back, already heading towards the door, “Then you might see your little girl again.” 

Emily opens her mouth to respond, to call out after her, but the door is already closed behind her. She lays there for a second before she sits up. She hisses, the pain briefly unbearable as her ribs scream at her. She pauses and takes a few deep breaths before she tries again, this time making it to her feet. She walks, slowly, to the tiny excuse for a bathroom attached to the room she is locked in. 

She stares at herself in the small, dirty mirror above the sink. She takes the time to check all of her injuries. The bruised skin that encircled her eye and spread down her cheek looked worse than she thought it would. She presses her fingers to her cheekbone, gently feeling to see if it is broken, and lets her arm drop to her side when it gets too much to keep holding it up. The cut on her arm had stopped bleeding, but it needed cleaning. She looks down at her swollen fingers, sees how her rings are too tight, a touch too familiar to when they swelled when she was pregnant for her liking. She regulates her breathing as she grabs the rings, breathing in and out twice, before she pulls them off, her teeth clenched tightly as she holds back the cry of pain as much as she can. She looks at the rings for a moment before she leans down and drops them into her boot, wanting to make sure they are safe and couldn’t possibly fall out of her pocket.

She groans as she undoes her shirt. It’s not her bruises that shock her, not the grim pattern of black and blue splattered across the pale skin her husband had always gently teased her for, but the bright red skin of her breasts. The ache in them was still there, just diminished compared to her other injuries now. She gently rests her hand against one of them and she thinks of Alice, desperately trying to remember how much she’d pumped before she came here, hoping it was enough and finding herself grateful for the first time for her oversupply.

“Fuck,” she mutters, leaning on the sink for a moment as she weighs up her options. She touches her engorged skin and immediately winces, the pain intense for a moment, a sharp stab that steals her breath away. She knew she had to relieve it somehow, had to do something to make sure that she wasn’t also walking away from this with an infection. She unclasps the maternity cups on the bra and prepares to manually express, something she hadn’t had to do once in the last 10 weeks. 

She does what the nurse had shown her when Alice was born, her teeth pressed together as she holds back a whimper at the pain, her eyes squeezed shut as she forces back the tears that had gathered in them. It feels like a relief when it starts to work, a literal weight lifted from her chest as it finally gets a little bit easier to breathe. 

She does her bra and shirt back up as soon as she can, not wanting to be exposed if someone comes barging in and she walks back to the bed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She sighs and closes her eyes, desperately pretending she was back home with her family - the hope that she would definitely get to see them again feeling more and more misplaced with every passing second.

___

It’s chaos when the raid starts. 

She’s unsteady on her feet, desperately looking for Spencer before she heads outside herself, not wanting to lose him after everything they’d been through the last couple of days. She almost walks straight into Derek and Dave, held steady by their hands on her shoulders as she briefly sways in place. 

“Prentiss,” Derek says, his sigh of relief paired with the look of horror on his face at her appearance, “I’m so glad to see you.” 

“You go outside, Bella. We’ve got it from here,” Dave insists, the same look on his face that Derek had and she wonders if she somehow looked worse than she did the last time she looked in a mirror. 

She shakes her head fiercely, “We’ve got to get Reid.” 

Dave and Derek exchange a look in front of her, one that makes anger they don’t deserve roll in her gut because she doesn’t want or need their pity. 

“Hotch is waiting outside for you,” Derek says, purposely hitting her Achille’s heel, a move they all know is dirty but don’t acknowledge, “We’ll get Reid. You go see your husband before he yells at someone else who could end his career.”

She nods, filing away that comment for later, her sudden need to see Aaron, to hug him, overwhelming. “Alice isn’t… she isn’t out there is she?” 

Dave shakes his head and squeezes her shoulder, “She’s back at the hotel with JJ. She’s safe.”

She chokes on a sob, her ribs aching with it as it catches on every one as it escapes her chest, “She’s okay?” 

Derek smiles softly at her, “She’s okay. The sooner you get outside the sooner you can see her. We’ve got Reid, okay?” 

She nods again and for once she doesn’t want to argue, can’t find it in herself to be contrary, she just wants out of the place she’d spent the last couple of days thinking could be her grave. She walks away without saying anything else, using the wall to guide her out, not sure she trusts her feet, her entire body weaker than she thought it ever had been. 

She steps outside, the air rancid with gunfire and overwhelming noise but it was fresher than it had been in the compound so she tries to fill her lungs but chokes on it, coughing as she comes to a brief stop. 

She looks up and sees Aaron in the distance, and the relief is palpable, almost enough to knock her off her feet as she slowly walks towards him. 

The church explodes behind her before she can call his name. 

-x-

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[youthinluv]

i know you

I'll quiet down if it's what you want I understand I'm not the only one For you I'm here regardless of the pain Don't ever tell me to go away From you

sypnosis ; following his childhood bestsfriend's heartbreak, he decides to take the risk and come clean to her. [bonus chapter of this oneshot]

pairing ; gyuvin x fem! reader

wc ; 2,395

genre ; angst, non-idol! & highschool! au

tags + warnings ; swearing, unrequited love, one-sided pining, hurt no comfort, mixed signals, love triangle (kinda), zb1 members featured, mainly in gyuvin's pov, gyuvin's jealous and insecure and probably maybe has an inferiority complex

playlist ; i know you - faye webster, she likes another boy - oscar lang,

author's note ; RAHHHH even more angst and love triangle !!! i kinda hate how this turned out tho LMAOOO

the story's title and how it's integrated into the plot is actually more subtle than i'd like but i really wanted to push through w the ideas i had i mind w/o changing the title even tho it came out mess in the end saur don't mind that pls tysm

———

Gyuvin has hated Ricky on three occasions.

Or that’s what he likes to think, at least. They were the only times he acknowledged those harsh feelings anyways.

It wasn’t a feeling that lingered anyways, he didn’t actually hate him, of course. If anything, they were on good terms. It’s one of those times where you feel hate towards someone in the spur of the moment because of a situation.

The first time was when he was alone in his dark room, the dim light coming from his PC screen illuminated his face as he watched himself die in game for the nth time again, resulting in their team’s loss.

He sighs, unable to focus on the game he was playing with Gunwook and Hanbin. Glancing at the time, he noticed that it was getting rather late and you haven’t sent him a message yet.

“Hey man, you okay?” Gunwook’s voice broke him from his train of thoughts as he realized he was zoning out, and that his friends had actually been trying to get his attention for the past few minutes now. “You’re acting differently today, is something wrong?” Hanbin adds.

“Yeah, just tired. And a little distracted, but I just don’t think I'm in my best condition right now.” he runs his hands over his face. Gunwook tells his friends that he’ll be leaving to do homework, and Gyuvin doesn’t miss the chance to call him a nerd. As he leaves the call, Hanbin takes this opportunity to talk to him with no filter.

“It’s about Ricky and Y/N, isn't it?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“If they knew the whole story, yeah.”

The call falls into silence as Gyuvin stares blankly at his PC screen. As he opens his mouth to say something, his phone suddenly rings.

After seeing the caller ID, he tells Hanbin he’ll be muting to answer a call and rushes to answer his phone.

“Y/N, hey! How’d the whole thing go? Did you profess your undying love for him yet? Did you two kiss? C’monn tell me!”

Gyuvin teases, trying to make sure it didn’t seem like he wasn’t about to die of worry over you earlier.

“Girl, shut up! I just got home, it went pretty well, but that’s not why I called. I actually wanted to ask you something.” you shush him.

Gyuvin gulps. “Uh– yeah, shoot.”

You seem to hesitate, and shifting could be heard from the other side of the line.

“Um, so Ricky told me that he, along with your entire friend group, thought we were dating? And he mentioned that you’d act weird whenever they’d try to talk to you about me.”

Gyuvin goes silent, and you take this as an opportunity to elaborate and ask him more questions.

“Are you… embarrassed of me? I’m not mad, don’t worry! If anything it’s kind of understandable so—”

“No, no!” Gyuvin sputters. “That’s not it, I swear. I just don’t want them annoying you if they actually knew who you were. The last thing I’d want is them making you uncomfortable.”

“...Oh. Uh, yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, I’m a little tired so I’ll go now. I’ll see you and let you in on what happened.” you nod, giggling at the last part which somewhat put Gyuvin at ease. The call ends and he could’ve sworn he almost collapsed back in his seat.

“Everything alright?” Hanbin asks as soon as he heard that Gyuvin turned his mic back on.

“Fucking Ricky!” Gyuvin couldn’t help but curse, frustration and rage slowly seeping in. “He told her some stuff about how I act whenever she gets brought up in the group and she thought I was embarrassed of her. She could’ve snuffed me out if she didn’t think that! Who does he think he is, causing misunderstandings like that?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. You and I both know he doesn’t think before speaking sometimes, he probably blurted it out without thinking about the consequences…” Hanbin tries to calm him down.

Gyuvin starts to be thankful that he came to Hanbin with this problem as he always relied on the elder, always having seen him like an older brother. 

Hanbin understands that this was much deeper than Y/N finding out about Gyuvin’s feelings.

It was about how he was always jealous of Ricky for having the things he wanted.

It was about how Ricky was so much more likable compared to him.

It was about how Ricky, in short, was perfect.

And it was especially about how Ricky was blind to not notice the girl pining over him. The same girl Gyuvin has been longing for the same way she does for Ricky.

The worst part was that it’s not his fault, and Gyuvin knew that well. 

Ricky had no control over those kinds of situations, he was just lucky enough to be born into a life where everything seemed to go his way. Even if it wasn't on purpose.

And Gyuvin knew that better than anyone else.

———

The second time was more of a buildup, in comparison to the first which was a burst.

But at the same time, he wouldn’t really consider it hate. Disdain felt more appropriate to describe it.

It started when Ricky and Y/N started to get closer, making them spend more time together, and less time individually with him.

It progressed even more the day that Gyuvin and Y/N spotted Ricky and Alexa together. 

While his best friend’s expression was unreadable, he could see that she felt uncomfortable and pained.

Why couldn’t he see that you liked him?

Over two weeks passed and Gyuvin found himself back in his room with you once again. 

“God knows what I should do! I feel like it’s too late for me to go back on what I’ve done since I’ve been ignoring them for days now and it’s a little embarrassing to talk to them out of nowhere.” you finish, taking a breath after the long rant you went on.

“Maybe it’s better for you to talk to Ricky and Ricky only. This way you can communicate, tell him everything and probably even confess to him. At the rate everything’s going, it’s now or never.” Gyuvin tells you, putting down his controller and watching you throw yourself on his bed face down.

After a brief silence, you mutter a muffled “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Getting up and grabbing your phone, Gyuvin sits next to you and watches you look for Ricky’s contact.

“hey. it's been a while. is everything alright? you’ve been avoiding and ignoring me all of a sudden. please let me know if i did anything to offend you and i hope we can talk again soon. i’m sorry.” it read.

He looks at you, seeing how you’re typing and deleting your message back and forth, you were finally able to send him a message.

“hi. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. are you free tomorrow? i was hoping to talk to you. does the nearby park sound good if ever?”

It took less than a minute for Ricky to respond, taking the best friends by surprise.

“oh my god, you responded. and ofc, it’s all good with me, i’m free tomorrow. i’ll see you then.”

You stared at your phone, rereading the short convo you two had. Getting up, you look over to Gyuvin to tell him you’ve made up your mind. 

“I’m confessing to him tomorrow.”

“Seriously?” He was completely surprised at this.

Fuck.  

“I mean– go for it! I can’t believe you finally have the guts to tell him.” he stutters out in hopes that the twinge of disapproval in his tone wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah. You were right about the now or never thing. I’m gonna tell him no matter what happens. The sooner I do it, the sooner I’ll get over it. It’s much better that way.”

You sigh and grab your bag. “I’m going home. It’s getting late.” “You want me to walk you home?” Gyuvin purses his lips

“Nah. I kinda need some alone time right now. Y’know, to figure out what to do and say tomorrow.”

“Oh okay, get home safe.”

You exchange goodbyes, and leave Gyuvin’s house. 

As he watches you leave, the boy is left behind alone with negative and conflicted feelings to your plans.

He plops down on his bed, slightly tearing up as he sends Hanbin a message.

Gyuvin: 

> it’s over for me

Hanbin:

> ?

>What happened?

> Do you want me to call or come over?

Gyuvin:

> eh

> she’s gonna confess to ricky tomorrow lmao

Hanbin:

>What? Really??

He tosses his phone to the side, ignoring the pings that followed.

Sighing, Gyuvin’s vision blurs as he contemplates everything that happened so far.

Would it have been better for him if you didn’t get close? Or meet at all?

Why couldn’t everything stay the same? 

Gyuvin pauses. Why was he even thinking like this? Shouldn’t he be happy you’ve finally gathered the courage after all these years? And then it hit him.

Ah. It’s because he’s scared that you actually have a chance with him. 

It’s the fact that despite everything that’s happened, there’s still a slight chance that Ricky can reciprocate your feelings. 

“I hate you so much.” Gyuvin whispers, unsure who he’s directing it to. Was it for you, Ricky or himself? Maybe it was all three.

Maybe he hated how you still tried to pursue Ricky even despite how things turned out. 

Hated how blind Ricky was for not seeing how he had someone who’d drop everything for him. 

Hated himself for being so frustrated and selfish. For how he felt about… all this.

Gyuvin eventually drifts off to sleep, dreading how tomorrow would turn out for all three of you.

———

Third time was when Ricky rejected you.

Initially, Gyuvin had mixed feelings. He thought about how this meant he still had a chance with you, before quickly shutting off the idea, feeling bad that he thought selfishly while you were still devastated.

He wouldn’t dare take advantage of your emotional state, right? Right?

Well….

A few days after you confessed, you actively avoided both Ricky and Alexa once again, especially seeing how often they’ve been together ever since. Gyuvin never missed the expression you bore every time you caught a glimpse of them, and one day, he decided he had enough of your state.

In the middle of lunch period, he grabs your arm and pulls you back as you were on your way to the cafeteria. “Hey,” he whispered. “Let’s skip the rest of school.”

You look at him with wide eyes before he leads you close to the exit, careful that no faculty member catches you. 

Once the coast was clear, he swiftly and quietly went through the exit, pulling you behind and now holding your hand while trying to keep it cool.

The both of you walked aimlessly afterwards, going to wherever your feet took you.

One free lunch later, you two spent the afternoon goofing off and exploring the city as much as you wanted. Then, the evening came and you found yourself enjoying the local fair with Gyuvin, before deciding you two were tired and walked home.

“Shit, I haven’t done that much walking in— well, at all, I think.” you sigh and Gyuvin laughs behind you, breaking the silence in the quiet, chilly night.

“Hey, thanks for today. Seriously. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time, so thank you.”

You turn to him and smile as you arrive in front of your house.

“Anytime. I kinda got sick of you moping around, so I figured you needed this, y’know?”

Silence hung between the two of you and you become unsure of what else to say.

As you turn to leave, Gyuvin calls out your name.

“Y/N. Can… Can I tell you something?” he hesitates, and you tilt your head.

He was unsure what possessed him to do this. He didn’t know if it was a spur of the moment thing, or because he felt that you two were still high on emotions, but everything he’d been keeping from you for years came out in seconds.

“I like you. I always have. And I have for years. I know now’s not the best time to tell you this, but after seeing everything you went through for Ricky, I genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. I hated how you were doing everything for him when I knew I could treat you better, but I didn’t want to ruin the years of friendship we had together. I’m so sorry.” 

Gyuvin confessed, the reality of the situation quickly hitting him as he watched your face morph into different expressions.

You were stunned, to say the least, and then you remembered what Ricky told you when you first hung out. And then all the signs you didn’t even notice before came swarming to you and everything made sense. In the end, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I’m– I’m so sorry Gyuvin.” you sputtered out, and you can see how his heart broke through his eyes. “I didn’t realize, I’m so stupid. I feel like an asshole now, I should’ve considered how you felt especially when I talked about—”

“It’s fine. Really. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with him anyways, so I kept quiet. I didn’t want to ruin the years we had together instead.” Gyuvin smiles sadly, as tears shone his eyes.

“Um, I should go. I didn’t mean to keep you this long, I’m sorry.” He turns and starts to walk away.

“Wait!” you call for him, but fall silent after seeing him turn.

“Hey, it’s fine, really. I didn’t expect much anyways. You know how you told Ricky it wasn’t his fault? It’s not yours, either. I understand I'm not the only one for you. So please, don’t beat yourself up over it. I might stay out for a while though, I need some time and space. But always remember that I’m here regardless of the pain, so don’t tell me to go away from you.”

Gyuvin takes a big breath to compose himself, before bidding his goodbyes. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” You couldn’t do anything else but nod and watch as he walks away, disappearing into the night and leaving you alone once again.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Do you have any more Soap x Everyone prompts? I eat them up to quickly

Ooh! I actually had a completely different idea for this at first but then this hit me and I got excited.

But! What about a blind Soap and his reactions/interactions with different monster hybrid 141/los vaqueros/König???

Also these monster hybrids aren’t based on anything in particular from the characters or nothing, it’s just the first one that popped into my head when I thought of the character and I went with it. I’m also making up my own laws and rules for these so shush!

Gorgon Ghost:

Obviously Simon’s got the whole, turn to stone if he looks at people thing so he’s always wearing sun glasses. Cause apparently, they were just the perfect deterrent for his little powers.

But every time Johnny’s with him the Scot insists that he doesn’t wear them, claiming he’d be heartbroken if he were denied the sight of Simons ‘beautiful eyes’. Which was bullshit since the man couldn’t even see but who was Simon to deny him.

Johnny spends forever after missions, sitting in Simon’s lap, fingers tracing over strong features with feather light touches.

Sometimes he ventures a little further back, giving gentle strokes to the snakes that constitutes Simon’s hair and giggling like a mad man when they either wrap around his fingers lightly or nip at the tips. They weren’t venomous so neither of them were ever too worried when that happened.

But Johnny always acted like it was a normal thing. Smiling wide when he finally left them alone and went back to tracing his features. If they hadn’t already done the routine a hundred times over he’d think the Scot was trying to gain a sense of what he looked like. Now he simply relishes in the touches, using them to ground himself and simply exist within the present.

Harpy Gaz: (I realise there’s a proper term but shush)

Soap was surprisingly good at grooming Gaz’s wings. The latter was always hesitant to let the man near, cause while he loved him dearly and would do near anything, his wings were wildly more sensitive than the rest of him. He didn’t want to run the risk of Soap accidentally doing something wrong and either leaving the Scot feeling guilty over it or have him be guilty cause he’d lashed out.

But Gaz had eventually caved when he saw how gentle Soap was with Ghost’s snakes. The fact that man absolutely lit up the room with how brightly he smiled also, might have played a role in it.

Now, it was just a regular occurrence. They were in the military, it was pretty much a given that Gaz’s wings would always manage to become unkempt somehow, someway. But that just meant that it was always a given that Soap would help him groom them. Sitting on Gaz’s back and gently combing through the feathers with soft, but sure fingers.

Sometimes he’d even give the man a massage, working out tense spots and laughing when he felt Gaz turn into a melted mess beneath him, gentle trills escaping him with how relaxed he always became.

Whenever they finished, Gaz would turn onto his back, opening his wings and arms just so Soap could lie down and he could wrap them up. It was cozy apparently and Soap loved feeling the all encompassing warmth and softness that came with it.

Demon Price:

There was a reason there was a blind man in the military despite all the red tape and technicalities and what not. Whether Price would ever confirm if it was truly his fault or not though was an entirely seperate issue that reoccurred at least once a month.

As it stood though John McTavish was his. He was his soldier. His responsibility. His blood pact. Unfortunately, he just so happened to be the base’s human as well. Which meant that no matter how much Price craved and wanted the man’s attention to be his and only his, there wasn’t a chance in hell it was going to happen now.

Fortunately John was aware of it though. Knew how much Price wanted to take him away and how often his desires almost got the better of him so he also had his own, little designated thing with the man. It was an unspoken rule on base. Everyone got time with John. Nobody interrupted. If you did, then there better be an excuse better than the world ending to save your life.

John would always dress up all pretty for him, coming to Price with a pretty little blush and unsure smile cause he was never quite sure how well he’d done with the wardrobe he was wearing. Granted, it was pretty hard for the man to make anything look bad. He looked amazing in whatever he wore.

If that happened to be due to the fact that Price bought him all his clothes and made sure they were all similar in style and complimentary in colour then who cares? His boy was happy and Price got to see him dressed up in the things he bought him.

Nagual Alejandro & Rodolfo:

Ale and Rudy were usually hanging around base as Jaguars, either lazing about after a hard mission or getting residual energy out by play fighting outside.

Occasionally though you could hear Soap with them, the two of them curled around the Scot while he chattered away about one thing or another, either completely oblivious to the way the jaguars were usually asleep, or not caring a single bit.

It always looked like the smaller man was serving as their pillow, one’s head in his lap while the other would be propped up on his shoulder, the man’s body resting against someone’s flank.

It was hard to tell how any of them were comfortably positioned, the two jaguars black as night and blending in with one another near perfectly if not for the pale man between them. Soap never seemed to mind though, hands running through their fur and occasionally shifting to scratch in no particular order.

Though given how the two would melt just a touch more when he did scratch a particular spot you’d think he was able to just know that that would be a soft spot for them.

Spectre König:

Kǒnig had a hard time keeping himself fully corporeal sometimes. He was so used to hiding and living out his military days as a spectre that he’d forget that he’d actually have to be in a physical form for some things.

But Soap made it easier. Something about the man made König want to exist within the same plane, if not to be able to actually touch him then just to exist beside him. It helped that he could tell Soap appreciated it when he was in physical form as well.

When it got particularly difficult Soap would always be there, words soft and coaxing and his touch even more so when König managed to gather his wits enough for it.

When he was fully in his plane Soap got this distinctly proud look in his eyes, blindness doing nothing to take away from the glint when he looked in König’s general direction and greeted him warmly. The reaction always made him feel warm inside. The blood he didn’t have rushing through him and warming him something stupid.

Sometimes he swore he felt his long dead heart kickstart. Especially when Soap laid his head over his chest, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist as if his arms alone were holding König together. Given that he didn’t feel the need to come apart like smoke when he did he’d argue that maybe it wasn’t too far from the truth.

[kanamori-kamper-moved]

Astral/Shark kissing for the writing prompt (hmm I have to specify the kiss??? "Passionate"? Hmmm maybe? D:)

never wrote anything about this pairing but i'm excited!! hope you'll like this :DD

Here's the prompt list for anyone who wants to request anything!

--

Astral does not expect to fall in love with anyone, after all, his goal was to collect the number cards and regain his memories. Nothing more. But.. he did. And it was puzzling.

And to his surprise, it was not with Yuma. He did love Yuma, of course, how couldn't he? He was endlessly lovable, even if he tended to get sidetracked with the most benign things. But, he did not love (well, what he thought was love) him, for his affection belonged to Shark. (Or Reginald, which he seemed to hate being called).

He didn't know why he liked him. It was odd, frankly, for Astral to hold such a liking for this purple, flaming ball of aggressiveness.

For starters, Shark was reactionary, he was quiet, he always pushed Yuma away, and the worst of it, he was a bit of a tsundere. He abhorred those things. What was wrong with Astral?

It was the same for Shark, and it came as a surprise to him. They'd barely ever spoken, just a few passing words and glances. But why couldn't he get him off of his mind? It was clearer for Shark than ever for Astral.

Shark isn't romantic, and he isn't charming in the least bit. At least that's what he thinks. He's barely even affectionate to the people he loves most.

But, even with his self-doubts, the tension is getting to be too much. The both of them know it, hell, Yuma might even know it too. It's suffocating, whenever Yuma comes around with Astral (whose always stuck to him by the hip), he doesn't know whether to say hello or to blurt out that he likes him.

He was tired of watching him from afar. Shark absolutely detests these feelings.

So Shark finally does something about it.

He invites Yuma and Astral to go out and get lunch together. He knows Astral will tag along. After all, wherever Yuma goes, he seems to go.

Astral doesn't eat much. Anything, really. Nobody can see him anyway, and Shark would NOT go through the embarrassment of ordering for a blue ghost (He's sure Yuma would, though). But, Shark hasn't eaten much, too. There he is, quietly sipping on his cappuccino, all while Yuma talks and talks like the ADHD-brained, lovable fool he is. Astral is sitting next to him, intently listening. it's the middle of the day and barely anyone is around.

But, Yuma suddenly gets up from his seat, "Ah, I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back!" Yuma explains, "Maybe you shouldn't have asked for so many refills." Astral replies, eyeing Yuma's half-finished glass of soda on the table, among 3 other empty ones with half-melted ice miserably dying at the bottom. "Shush!" And then he's off.

It's almost like the stars are aligning in his favor. Yuma is gone, and they're all alone.

"What's your problem with me?" Shark swallows, breaking the silence between the two. His heart almost jumped out of his chest right then and there.

Astral always remains neutral, in most cases. He has always been a sort of injured baby deer, if it made any sense, "What problem? I don't see the problem."

"You know what I'm talking about." He huffs, Astral's studying his face closely. "There's no need to be gentle about it, Reginald." Shark tenses up at the use of his first name, "Do you love me?" How could he have known? Did he make it obvious? There were so many questions swarming in his head, buzzing like flies and honeybees.

"Fine. We can call it love." He's sweating, shaking, almost. Shark doesn't even realize it at first, but he's flushed and turning pink.

"Yuma will be back soon. Kiss me or leave it."

Straight to the point, huh?

 Quickly, Shark grabs Astrals illuminating blue shoulders. He pulls him close and smashes his lips against his. He does it so fast, Astral would scoff about it if he wasn't being kissed.

Astral doesn't feel at all like he expected. His skin is cold, almost as if it had been freezing for years. The soft glow that emanated off of him was tingly on his skin. It only adds to Sharks' desperation, and Astral's too. Their tongues dance in a rhythm, each movement an unspoken declaration of their desire. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and connection, a kiss that transcended words and touched the deepest recesses of their souls.

Shark's lips are warm, the lips of humans were always so comforting to Astral but he never knew how to put his ghostly finger on it. Shark has that coffee smell on him too, it's intoxicating, almost sweet as a flower.

And finally, Shark pulled away. He needed to breathe, Astral did not.

"Hey, what'd I miss?" Yuma walks back to the table.

It was like nothing even happened. How did Astral do it? The afterglow of the kiss is plastered on Shark's face. "Nothing, me and Reginald were just having fun while you were gone." He replies.

Shark will so get Astral back for this. But not now, later.

[novelmonger]

I watched FMA: The Revenge of Scar on FMA Day and am only now talking about it shush leave me alone I was busy okay.

Both before and after watching it, I've come across a fair share of posts sharing their excitement about it, talking about it as something they enjoyed. And there's only one thought that comes to mind when I see them:

....Why?

I'm not trying to rain on anybody's parade or anything; I'm just genuinely confused. If you like these movies, what do you like about them? If you watched the first one and were excited when the sequel was announced, why? I'm just really confused, because I've watched two of these movies now, and...sorry to be blunt, but I thought both were a pile of crap ^^'

Am I just somehow missing everyone who's complaining about the movies? Or am I completely misunderstanding people who are trying to make the best of things? Because right now, I feel like I'm either left out of a huge, fandom-wide joke, or I've gone utterly insane.

I mean, I have sooooo many complaints against these movies, such as:

very fake-looking wigs and costumes (admittedly, they were a bit better in the second one)

Ed and Al were the only ones who could act their way out of a paper bag (I've only seen the sub, so can't speak to dub performances)

the CG looked so fake and ugly

even I noticed the awful greenscreen and masking lines

the transmutations were way too slow; I had horrible flashbacks to The Last Airbender x.x

terrible pacing, so both dramatic and comedic moments fall flat (which makes me want to cry, because Arakawa-san has such impeccable timing for both T^T)

nonsensical switching around of the timeline, creating problems for themselves they then have to scramble to solve in the most haphazard ways (like Ed's motivation to go to the ruins of Xerxes, which makes no sense now because they didn't have Ross go into hiding, so he had no reason to go into the desert; he just kind of...heard the word "ruins" and teleported to the desert)

WHAT ON EARTH WENT WRONG WITH ARMSTRONG WHY DID THEY GIVE HIM A PROSTHETIC SCALP JUST FIND AN ACTOR WHO LOOKS GOOD WITH A SHAVED HEAD GOODNESS GRACIOUS D:

Mei is waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old

the soundtrack is utterly forgettable, which is a huge shame when you compare it to the masterpieces of Michiru Oshima and Akira Senju that came before it

Envy's true form is nowhere near big enough

maybe a minor gripe, but the clapping and snapping for alchemy just...doesn't sound cool like it does in both animes :/ More realistic, I guess, but um...this is fantasy, you can let such things have big dramatic sound effects just because they sound cool....

why on earth does Winry have dark hair????? Why does everybody else have to wear awful wigs but she keeps her natural hair color???? aldkfjsa;kfljsdlfkjslkj;lkjsf

I was bored all the way through both movies and kept checking the time to see how much was left. Let me repeat that: I was BORED. In Full Metal Alchemist!

On the positive side, um.....

Ryosuke Yamada was basically the perfect choice to play Ed. He really nailed the character, and had some great expressions and deliveries that brought out Ed's personality without making it too cartoony and over-the-top (and I'm pretty sure that the problems I have with timing are more a fault of the director, rather than the actor)

I actually really enjoyed the scene where Ed and Al have their little confrontation about Al's soul being fake; it was new material, but 100% in-character, and full of the brotherly love that is at the heart of FMA

Nina is adooooorable :'3

Selim is also possibly the cutest little boy I've ever seen in my life; super hard to imagine him as a Homunculus, but that's kind of the point

props to them for the attention to detail required to recreate some scenes with even the same framing and angles as the manga now if only they'd also managed to recreate the pacing and emotional depth

Uh...yeah, that's all I've got. It really doesn't weigh out the negative side.

Again, if you liked the movies...please, I'm begging you, tell me why! I really want to understand ;_;

[akunya]

57 with uki?

"speak up, bitch."

pairings: uki violeta / m!reader summary: you cant keep your hands to yourself. thats fine, uki's here to help. tw: asphyxiation, dubcon, dom!uki. petplay, collars, earplay (?). voice fetish. cucking, exhibitionism, degradation. notes: i meant to publish this before/on ukis birthday. really sorry about that.

uki smiled as he looked down at you, warm breath fanning against your ear. the air felt heavy around you two. your own breath hitched, suppressing a pitiful whine as uki squeezed your sides. he had forcefully positioned you on his lap, arms possessively snaked around your waist with a satisfied smile on his face. it was a mistake trying to touch yourself while he was away - but when did you ever listen?

besides, the possessive grip on your waist and thighs made it all so worth it. your breath hitched as he explored and touched wherever he pleased, his hands traveling upwards to tug on your thick collar. uki insisted that you wore it at all times, loving the slight blush on your cheeks whenever he'd call you a pretty boy for putting it on without complaints. usually, you were so good for him - but like all stupid little mutts, you only thought with your cock first rather than your brain.

"i cant even leave you alone for even an hour, can i?" uki laughed, your heart beating in your chest as he leaned in closely to your left ear. blowing softly, you jumped, the proximity making you feel awfully sensitive. he had more control over you than you had thought, dick throbbing just from his touch.

the worst part about it all, was that fulgur was right outside, patiently waiting for uki to come back and join him.

you had made up some lie about not feeling well, the archivist being kind enough to let you rest in his room for a bit. your boyfriend didn't buy it one bit.

in your defense, how could you stay calm when he managed to look so ethereal? it was embarrassing how something so simple like coming over to fulgur's house so you all could catch up together would make you so worked up. however, when uki had held you at the waist in front of his door and kissed your forehead before walking inside, you knew you were doomed.

now, you had no choice but to accept your punishment for being a needy thing. "slutty mutt. fuu-chan is waiting for me, yknow. you couldn't behave for a bit longer?" the man sighed, but he wasn't angry at all. if anything, he loved the way you were so addicted to him for pleasure. depend on him more, let him coddle you to the very end. he wasn't as mean as vox or fulgur. teasing you, however, was his own sick enjoyment. uki loved seeing you delve deeper, just as you were now, mindlessly humping his hand as he cupped your groin. you didnt even bother replying to his questions.

"you're so cute when you're needy like this." he chuckled, voice barely above a whisper in your right ear now. you suppressed a whine, eyes scrunched close as he rubbed your dick a bit harder now. "u-uki.." your voice was weak, legs spread on his lap as he touched. the psychic grinned now, sloppily kissing the shell of your right ear. "whats wrong, y/n? cat got your tongue? cmon, speak up. what do you want from me?" you cried a bit louder, uki shushing you as your zipper was pulled down by his own hands.

it felt humiliating doing this on your friends bed. you were defiling and taking advantage of fulgurs kindness - and yet, you couldn't find it in you to truly care. his touch was intoxicating, even if he was only palming you through the outside of your underwear now. still, your voice couldn't come out. uki frowned, his nails digging into the flesh of your thigh painfully hard, yelping in response as he huffed.

"i said, speak up, bitch. what do you want?" his voice was low. it was as if he was taking over all your senses, speaking so closely and engulfing you in his body to the point where you were smothered in his scent. "cum! i wanna cum, please sir!" the heavy leather of your collar was tugged, choking you as uki went back to playing with your cock. his stupid, sadistic lovesick puppy.

"im usually not this nice, y/n." uki sighed pitifully, your hands trying to pull his wrists away as he wrapped one hand around your throat, the other still palming and massaging your clothed cock. he never took you for such a painslut. and an exhibitionist somewhat at that - being played with on his friend's bed while he stood outside. it was filthy. he loved it. "you think you can cum like this then? without me directly touching your cock, hm?" your brain tried to register his words before he leaned in, speaking lowly into your ear again. "can you do that for me, baby?"

he kissed your ear again, the wet sound of his tongue licking your earlobe after making you gasp. "fuck, yes sir!" you could feel his smile, movements getting rougher until you came in your own underwear. you moaned, your usual thick load soaking the fabric, wet and lewd. how were you going to face fulgur after this? uki let you come down from your high, praising you and not bothering to move until you were ready.

"uki? y/n? are you two okay?" as if on cue, fulgur knocked on the door. it had been a bit over a half hour now. time flew by more quickly than you had thought, panic settling in your bones. uki giggled, hands still resting on your thighs. "what do you think, y/n? does he know what a desperate little cocksleeve you are?"

[dumbdemonslayertexts]

my general vibe is shuddering submissive armin being called babyboy and babydoll but i just got the pussyshocks from this imagery so HEAR ME OUT.

you're stressed out from the day you've had and you're at a house party. and from your experience in past hustles, you mix drinks like a mf pro and it's kind of theraputic for you so you get into a flow just to take your mind off things.

but your sweet doe eyed boy sees how hard you're shaking martinis and comes to check on you.

"hey... what is it..?"

you feel his voice-- that soft, airy gumdrop voice that does so many things to you-- before you even sense his body, and it's behind you, a sinner's touch tracing along that pretty brown skin peeking between your top and your jeans. and you ignore the blooming chillbumps he sends illuminating your glowing body. but the vibes in here were ones you wanted to absorb, not taint. so why speak your problems out and screw up the good time?

"i'm not about to fuck this party up over--"

shit. and you almost let it slip, too. the storm over your head was not letting up on you even with everyone else having a ball around you. in fact, it felt like it was trying to grow just to spite you, now that your sweetheart was here to save the day. "over some bullshit." you finish weakly. nope. you were not giving this your energy. and you definitely weren't about to cast it on armin, "i don't want you bothered over it."

"so then talk to me, baby," he rubs a tender set of circles into the small of your back with his thumb, biting a little smirk when it arches for his touch. "who do i need to embarrass?"

he said so teasingly, but you knew full well what armin was capable of with that mind and that mouth on him. and he knew you knew. you'd seen him take down entire reputations, you'd seen him raze positions in social hierarchy to the ground just with how he could expose and read folks. over slights, over digs at his friends, any reason he felt like. he could lay any bastard he wanted to out completely bare and do it with the coldest disposition you had ever laid eyes on. heartless. relentless. ruthless. he could do it without giving a fuck, and for some reason, that power of his turned you on even more than dudes out here who would knock somebody out for the same offences.

"boyyyyy..!" you whined, pushing at him softly with your crush on him stretching your cheeks in a smile. he ate it up, encircling you in his arms from behind and rocking you from side to side, his chin resting on your shoulder. "nobody..! i said don't worry about it..."

"you can't think i'm going to let something upset my queen and not worry. i'll swing on whoever, just point me where."

you can't help it. you melt. armin was the warmth of sunshine to you, and just him caring so much was whisking away everything that had gotten you so worked up. "no, cause then you can't squeeze on me."

"you want me to squeeze on you, baby?" he asked lowly, softly. you could hear the smile in his voice.

"i want you to squeeze on me."

he gives you what you want. soft and full and tight, making you feel the most heavenly mix of appreciated and owned. his body is so strong and encompassing, protective of yours-- in his smell, his closeness, his care, his unmatched brand of sexiness that was so unique to him. slowly he lessens the hold, only to hum and squeeze you again. it's so full of intimacy that you forget you two aren't alone.

he sets your body alight, and suddenly you feel yourself getting hot between your thighs.

"mmm... better..?"

"...yes," you answer more breathily than you should have. but you feel his response against your ass, so you don't regret it, "don't stop, please..."

"i love you, baby," he answers back so dreamily and elated, wrapping you again in a warm squeeze, "you know i won't stop. you know i'll do anything to make my queen feel good."

you feel one of his arms leave, and mourn the loss of that touch. but you feel two fingers press against the denim cupping your pussy, and pull in a silent gasp. "...i want to make you feel so good."

"armin..!" he eats his name when he kisses your soft lips, swirling more pressure into your pussylips while his tongue slowly collides with yours.

"just one, baby... just one for me..." he closes his eyes, his nose pressed into your edges as he begs low in your ear, "please? i promise i only need one. i swear."

your knees buckle when he finally smears your pussy open for him through your bottoms, getting that contact with your sweet little clit he wanted. he holds you up easily with the one arm still around your middle, shushing you to calm.

"let me make my baby's pussy cum... she's been so stressed all night. you didn't see like i could. it hurts so bad to see my baby like that. can i have one..?" he asks huskily, "isn't that fair, baby..? she needs more, but i'm a patient boy. i can wait for more when no one can see her shaking and crying for me... please..?"

you're grasping and grabbing now, clutching at the arm he has around you and the countertop that's hiding what he's doing to you from everyone else. "sh...shittttt..! yes, yes, baby, yes you can have it. take it, take it, please please, fuck..!"

his breath hitches and breaks in your ear, panting and shaking in a gasp like your permission alone made him bust his nut in his pants.

and damned if that didn't set your pussy on fire. you felt your arousal trickle out and gush into your panties, to armin's absolute delight. he rubbed you faster and with heavy pressure in the pads of his fingers. he's moaning into your ear in rapture with every rotation, like you're the one with your lips and tongue tight and soaking around his dick. and he's thrusting into you from the back from how bad you turned him on.

"tell me who's your babydoll."

"you!" you waste no time answering, and he groans out the gratification that so sexily gives him, "it's you, armin, only you..!"

"and am i your babyboy?" he asks further, biting his lip when he sees you roll your hips and ride his fingertips.

"you know you're my little babyboy," your glossy, half-dazed eyes land on his-- black with how lustful you'd made him, and he coos, placing tiny kisses over your cute nose and cheeks.

"and you're going to let your babyboy make you cum, right?" he egged again, seeing that you were starting to climb the peak.

"ohhhh sshhhhhiiiiiiitttt..."

"you're gonna let your babydoll get your pussy to cum all on his fingers, aren't you, baby..?"

"oh my fucking--armin, i'm about to... cummm!"

"don't keep me waiting, then, baby," he husks before kissing you, smothering your cries and writing his name into your pussy while you came, over and over while your orgasm had you convulsing against him.

[ameliora-j]

sure // rw x reader

words: 1.8k

warnings: smut, overstimulation kinda, finger sucking, size kink if you squint, daddy kink, subspace but not focused, sort of enemies to lovers

a/n: i hate the ending to this i’m not gonna lie but aye first smut

you didn’t really know much. you learned a lot, but you never truly retained the information. after tests and exams, knowledge went just as quickly as it came. however, one thing that you did know. one thing that you were absolutely sure of was that you absolutely despised ron weasley. and nothing in the world could ever change that. you can admit, you did used to have a crush on the redhead... before you found out his true personality of arrogant asshole.

the two of you were in the same friend group, but don’t be mistaken... he was absolutely not your friend. you would first die before ever calling the selfish, pompous, arrogant git your friend. he was so full of himself. you didn’t understand how harry and hermione could be friends with someone like that.

harry and hermione were tired of the two of you constantly bickering and ignoring your—quite obvious, according to them—feelings for each other. and you guess that’s how you wound up in this situation. harry and hermione had taken both you and ron’s wands and locked you in the room of requirement with the threat: “if you two don’t speak to each other and become friends we won’t ever let you out.”

at least they made the room cozy. it was everything you needed, a small room with a bed in the center, and a desk against one of the walls. it was also accompanied with a small en-suite bathroom and water and snacks. you were happily reading in your dorm alone before hermione dragged you here, saying that it was an issue that needed immediate attention.

you had probably been here for about an hour with the redhead, sitting silently and not even looking at each other. finally, you were bored of counting seconds, so you retreated to the desk and opened your book and continued reading where you had left off, still ignoring the tall, muscular redhead laying on the bed.

it was going very well untill you began to see small paper butterflies landing on the desk in front of you. you contained your smile as you watched yet another charmed paper butterfly fly across the room and land in front of you. this caused you to close your book and spin around to face him as you set it on the desk. “did y’need something, weasley?” you asked him.

“they won’t let us out of here unless we talk. and i need to study our playbook for the next quidditch game,” he told you. you hummed softly before turning back around and opening the book again.

“i don’t have anything to say to you. you hate me, you don’t want to be my friend, and i’m okay with never speaking to you again,” you spoke, matter-of-factly as you began reading again.

you heard a deep sigh before ron’s footsteps began coming closer to you. you felt his presence behind you and he put his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. your face heat up as you swallowed thickly and bit your lip nervously. “we both know that’s not true now, is it, princess?” he smirked devilishly.

you don’t know what it was, but something in his eyes made you want to listen to his every word. do whatever he told you to. submit. you nervously shook your head as you struggled to remember exactly how to breathe. he hummed again, keeping his grip on my jaw as he stared down at me. “tell me, princess. how do you really feel?” he raised an eyebrow.

“nervous,” you croaked.

“nervous?” he hummed. “why nervous?”

“you,” you breathed out.

“i make you nervous?” he found great pleasure in this information as he smirked down at you. you nodded again and he removed his grip from you, moving to sit on the desk in front of you. “c’mere,” he beckoned, reaching his hand out.

you nervously took his hand and moved so i was standing in between his legs. his hands moved your hair away from your neck before landing on your hips and tugging you closer to him. you sucked in a gasp as your senses became engulfed with him. “y’very pretty,” he murmured into your ear before placing a soft kiss behind it. “thank you,” you stuttered as you searched for air.

“‘m gonna kiss you now,” he spoke and you nodded your consent. he tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you impossibly closer as he pressed your lips to his. it was already very clear that he was the one in charge, the kiss just solidified that as his tongue licked inside of your mouth and you mewled against his lips. he stood from the desk and lead you backwards to the bed, pushing you gently down on it and crawling over you.

“‘s this your first?” he asked, and you shook your head nervously. “good. cus ‘m not gonna be gentle,” he smirked as he began to leave kisses down your neck. you tugged gently on his shirt, causing him to sit up and pull it off. the two of you undressed each other as you continued making out.

once ron had your pants off, he began kissing down your body. you whimpered and squirmed slightly as he got down to your thighs. “please,” you whimpered breathlessly. he smirked as he pulled off your panties and left a kiss on your clit. you moaned softly, tangling your hands in his hair as he licked up your slit.

“so wet f’me,” he commented as he circled your entrance with his middle finger. “please, want it,” you whined, bucking your hips into him. he shushed you, pushing your hips back down to the mattress as he finally gave you what you want, pushing his middle fingers into you. you moaned as he curled them and quickly found that special spot.

“fuck,” you whimpered as his thumb came up to rub at your clit. “so good,” you whined as he began moving his fingers faster. you whimpered as his free hand reached up to play with your nipple, rolling the rapidly hardening bud between his fingers.

“you gonna cum?” he asked and you nodded, whimpering out a small “please,” making him smirk at how quickly he got you to submit to him.

“go head, princess,” those three words were all you needed. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as stars danced across your vision and your legs shook as you fell into ecstasy. his fingers fucked you through it and his thumb never stopped it’s circles on your clit, even as you came down.

“please, please, please,” you whimpered as you tried to squirm away from it. “one more for me, princess,” ron hummed. you whined softly as you gripped his wrist, letting out small gasps and whimpers as he practically tickled a second orgasm from your already tired body.

“good girl,” he praised as he fucked you through the second release, only pulling away when you whimpered and squirmed away. “open,” he instructed as he brought his fingers up to rest on your bottom lip. you followed his instruction, lolling out your tongue as he pushed his fingers into your mouth, making you clean them off. “y’ready to take me, princess?” he asked.

you nodded with a small whimper of “please.” he ran his tip up your slit, collecting your slick on him before slowly pushing his cock into you, making you moan at the stretch. ron wasn’t your first, but he was definitely the biggest. you were sure he knew that as you saw him smirking down at you as he kept pushing it in. “is that all?” you whimpered after a while.

“almost princess, halfway there,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed you softly. you whined softly as he pushed in even further, bottoming out as he hit your cervix. you moaned loudly as you arched into him, begging him to move.

he obliged, setting a quick pace as his arm wrapped around your leg, setting it over his shoulder for a better angle. “fuck. so tight,” he grunted in your ear as he rutted into you. you couldn’t contain your moans as the head of his cock repeatedly hit your spot inside of you, making you beg for more.

“daddy,” you shrieked as he moved your other leg over his shoulder, making his cock go that much deeper.

“oh fuck say it again pretty girl,” he moaned as his thumb found your clit, rubbing in time with his thrust.

“daddy please,” you whimpered as you took his free hand and moved it to rest on your throat. he raised an eyebrow as he smirked down at you. “such a dirty little girl,” he hummed as he squeezed gently.

you moaned louder as you arched further into him, whimpering and begging. “shh. take it,” he hummed as he abused your cervix with his cock.

“wanna cum please,” you whined softly as you felt your lower abdomen clench. “please please please,” you whimpered repeatedly as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“hold it,” he demanded. however, he didn’t let up, causing you to whine loudly as you thrashed about the bed, trying not to release the pleasure ron was currently giving your body. “cum with me princess, now,” he hummed.

the third orgasm hit you even harder than the first two. it was unending as ron continued to fuck you through it, every drag of his cock against your walls intensifying it twofold as you cried his name over and over, feeling his hot cum spurt inside of you. you whimpered softly as you came down, looking up at him doe-eyed. “you okay, pretty girl?” he asked softly.

“thank you daddy,” you hummed softly, ignoring his question. he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slowly pulled out. you mewled at the ache in your lower body and hissed as you felt the sheets drag against your swollen, sensitive clit.

“just gonna clean you up, yeah? then we can nap,” he spoke gently as he carried you into the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet, making you go so that you didn’t get a uti before he ran a bath for you. he got in behind you as he gently washed you off, careful of all your sensitive areas as he hummed gently to you, bringing you back down to earth.

“ron?” you asked gently as he wrapped you in a big, fluffy towel. he hummed in acknowledgment and you looked up at him. “what does this make us?” you asked shyly.

“how bout i take you on a date first. and then we’ll decide that. deal princess?” he asked as he lead you back into the room and began to change you.

“okay,” you hummed. he smiled as he pulled on a pair of boxers and got into bed with you, pulling you into his chest.

you didn’t really know much. however, if there was one thing that you were absolutely sure of.. it’s that... maybe you didn’t despise ron weasley.

[harryspet]

please don’t bite | p.parker, s.rogers, b.barnes

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark!steve x reader, hints of dark!natasha/dark!bucky x reader, vampire!steve/bucky/natasha, vampire au, vampire blood addiction, withdrawals, kidnapping, dubcon, intoxicated sex, oral sex (female recieveing)

A/N: hello, it’s been forever! I was in the middle of writing this when @cherienymphe announced her  “Cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge” so I decided to join in! She’s one of my favorite dark writers so please check her out if you haven’t. 

In which addiction leads you into a den of vampires. 

taglist: @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan

main masterlist

word count: 3.7k

You piled all the dollar bills you had in your pocket on the table, “There. We can just use this.” You plopped down beside your boyfriend on the couch, fully feeling the headache you’ve had for the past two weeks. It was like your brain was pounding against your skull and sending painful waves through your body. 

“This is twenty bucks and a … grocery store coupon for … shampoo,” After counting it, Peter flicked the money back onto the coffee table, leaning back with you. You tossed your legs over his lap and he wrapped his arm behind you, “So we have fifty bucks between us … great.”

“That’s enough, right?” You asked, barely able to hear yourself think through your headache. 

“It’s like two-hundred just for a small vial,” A shiver ran through your body and Peter pulled you closer. Not only did the heat not work in the shoebox you two called an apartment, you were starting to get random chills and it was another rough winter in New York. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, “Fuck, fuck-”

Peter shushed you, “We’ll be okay,” Peter said, trying to be strong for the both of you though his body was punishing him even more than yours was, “I got a gig by the pier, and by the end of the week, we should have enough.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you clutched his chest, “That’s too long. We’ll die before then.”

“We’ll be okay,” Peter insisted though he didn’t quite believe himself. 

Vampire blood was one cruel mistress. It was hard to remember your lives before you took your first sips of the addictive potion. You both had everything going for you, highschool sweethearts that became successful college students but that was all gone now. You can’t hold a job or go to school when you’re on vampire blood. The highs last hours and, when you have enough of it, weeks can go by without you noticing. 

“What was it like? Drinking from the vein?” You asked him, the taste of the blood was faint on your lips as you tried to remember the exact taste. 

Peter’s head tilted back as he stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, “Like Heaven on earth. Like eternal life …. like nothing any normal human would ever feel. So good … jesus.”

Sometimes Peter wished he never introduced you to the taste but he’d forget all about it when you were high together. The sex was unbelievable, vampire blood being a strong aphrodisiac, and your love felt even stronger, “I want to try it,” You thought out loud, “If I’m gonna die soon, I-I wanna try it.”

“You’re not gonna die. Our brains are just totally miswired right now,” Peter groaned, turning his face towards yours. He kissed your forehead and, for a moment, it eased the pain. You tilted your head up to kiss the sides of his mouth. He tilted his head to the side and you kissed deeply. He pulled away suddenly and his eyes gazed into yours, “What would you do?”

“W-What?”

“What would you do to taste it from the vein?” You swallowed and your throat ached. 

You nodded your head, “Anything. Oh god, anything, Peter.”

You’d sensed he’d had an idea and a weak grin began to pull at your lips. That quickly fell as Peter pulled away from you. You expected him to be excited but he was completely solemn, “I have an idea,” He said, “You can say no … but if you don’t say no, you have to promise that things will be how they used to be afterwards.”

“How they used to be,” You couldn’t even think that far back. You couldn’t imagine a single date, single birthday card or New Year’s Eve kiss while you were in so much pain, “Sure, Pete. We just need a taste a-and that’ll clear our minds and things we’ll go back to how they used to be.”

+

As if things couldn’t get any worse, your stomach growled. You’d gotten dressed up, put on light makeup, and styled your hair for whoever Peter had taken you to meet. You didn’t quite care anymore because your headache continued to cripple you over the past few days. 

You pulled your jacket tighter as you waited on the steps of the gentrified brownstone. Peter pressed the doorbell nervously, watching as you shiver in your small, black dress. Peter dressed in his finest slacks and button down but was very aware that he probably wouldn’t be the center of attention tonight. He reached out to grab your hand which you happily took. 

“Why is he making us meet him so late?” You whispered, shivering. 

“He’s a vampire,” Peter shrugged, “They’re like nocturnal, I guess.”

Peter had reached out to ring the doorbell again when the door suddenly opened. A red headed woman opened the door, her hair cut short and a sultry smile on her face. You could tell instantly by the shine in her skin and darkness in her eyes that she was not like you. 

“Peter,” She greeted, smirking, “You look … hungry.”

“And cold,” He added, sensing your uncomfortableness as she took him in like he was her prey. 

“Right, come on in,” Peter led you inside the expensive home and out of the cold winter. You pressed yourself closer to him, not only because you were still shivering but because you’d never been alone with a vampire, “Steve will be here any moment.”

The woman led you down a corridor and you passed modern art sculptures and other expensive decorations you didn’t quite understand, “Steve?” You perked up at the mention of someone else. 

“That’s, uh, who we’re meeting,” Peter said quickly.

“Unfortunately, I’m booked tonight. A sweet young thing I met a few weeks ago. British accent, total dreamboat, but Steve will take great care of you two,” She led the two of you into a dining room where wine and horderves were laid out, gesturing for the two of you to take a seat, “Let me take your jackets.”

You looked at Peter and he nodded, “It’s okay,” Hesitantly, you slid off one of your sleeves and you felt her eyes begin to burn into the skin of your neck. Your arms weak, you lifted it out to her and she graciously accepted it. Peter did the same, taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. Your eyes were still on the mysterious woman until Peter grabbed your hand. 

“I hope to see you both soon,” She smiled again, leaving the room, “Keep your eyes on this one, Pete.” 

You turned to him, your eyebrows raised, “How do you know her?”

“That’s her,” Peter said, grabbing the bottle of wine, “I told you about the first time I tried it from the vein. I think she has a thing for young guys. Or young anything.”

As he poured himself a glass, you reached out for a cracker and tried not to eat too fast as you pushed them into your mouth, “Why’d she look at me like that?” You asked, covering your mouth. 

“You’re a virgin,” You almost snorted, “I mean, your veins are. You’ve never been fed off of.”

“Oh,” You swallowed, taking his glass from him as you washed down your food, “I don’t wanna be. That’ll hurt, right?”

“Don’t worry, that’s not what we’re here for.”

Feeling some of your energy return, you stood up from the dining table, deciding to look closer at all the artifacts, “Y/N, what are you doing?” Peter asked, his fingers rubbing his temples, “Sit down, please.”

“Why do they have food if vampires don’t eat?” You asked out loud, annoying him further. There seemed to be a million framed pictures on the wall and you studied them as you passed along. They seemed to transform from black and white to fully in color, polaroid to digital. 

“For their human prey, probably.”

“Prey?” A deep voice spoke up, surrounding the room, bringing Peter out of his chair and your head turning quickly, “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Mr. Rogers,” Peter rushed out, and you wondered how he could muster up so much energy to be nice, “I didn’t mean …”

“No worries, I try to be polite but I am a blood sucking demon after all,” The blonde-bearded man smiled. He was so muscular, you’d pictured someone skinny and frail. “Won’t you introduce me to your …”

“Girlfriend,” Peter said a bit sadly. He wasn’t sad that you were his but that this was the saddest excuse for a date night, “This is Y/N.”

You raised a hand to wave but he crossed the room to take your hand. He kissed your knuckles, smiling charmingly as he looked into your eyes. Blue eyes, you weren’t expecting those either. Despite the porcelain skin he looked quite human. His suit was black, and his white shirt was pressed nicely beneath it, like he’d just returned from an important event. You smiled back weakly, “Pleasure to meet you, doll.”

“It’s … nice to meet you too.”

You felt Peter’s eyes on you as your hand fell back down to your side, “You two look like you’ve seen better days,” You moved closer to Peter because, despite his kind smile, you didn’t fully trust him. 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Is it that obvious?” The nice clothes couldn’t hide the fact that they hadn’t had any vampire blood in almost three weeks. It was amazing that they were still standing. 

“I think I can help you both out,” Steve assured you two, “If you had enough of the horderves, you can follow me upstairs.” He turned and Peter grabbed your hand as you all left the room. 

“What exactly do we have to do … you know, for the blood?” Looking up at Peter, you worried that he was nervous for reasons that he was not telling you. Steve led you to the stairs and, as you climbed, you couldn’t help but look at all the photos that lined each wall. The upstairs wasn’t lit, making it feel like you were stepping into a story with a not-so-happy ending. 

“Peter didn’t tell you?” Steve asked, not bothering to turn around. He led you down the hall to what you assumed was the master bedroom. 

“Not everything,” Peter said quickly. 

You expected some kind of evil den but the room was quite normal. High ceilings, brown upholstered bed, a view of the neighborhood, and a fireplace. You and Peter stood awkwardly, looking around, as Steve made his way over to the fireplace. He leaned down to turn a dial and moments later, it sprouted with fire. 

“Peter,” You nudged him, your brows furrowed. He didn’t say anything which worried you more. Steve stood up, taking off his jacket which made your heart begin to race. Some of the fear disappeared quickly as he rolled up his white sleeves … exposing lower arms. 

Now, your mouth was watering, “There’s no need to worry, doll. I already promised Peter that no harm will come to the two of you. But you do understand that this is a trade? I give you my blood and you give me what I want.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted, “And what do you want?”

“I want to watch,” He stated, looking the two of you over, “I consider myself somewhat of a voyeur, I like to watch when people are intimate.” You looked back and forth from him to Peter. 

“Y/N, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter spoke quietly, worry in his eyes. 

“Of course not,” Steve smiled, already a bit aroused by your shocked expression. He reached into his pocket to pull out a pocket knife, its handle having an old and intricate design, “But I think it’ll be very enjoyable on your side of things. The blood will certainly take the edge off and I won’t overstep my boundaries, I promise.”

“And we’re supposed to trust a vampire … ,” Steve stepped closer, pressing the knife to his skin. 

“We don’t have another option,” Peter said, his eyes focused on Steve’s vein. Peter let go of your hand, the addiction taking over as he moved closer to Steve. Steve cut into his arm, the crimson running down it but not a drop touched the floor before Peter pressed his lips to the wound. 

When Peter pulled away, his head tilted all the way back, as the sweet serum traveled down his throat. You were still staring in shock, the scent reaching your nose, and drawing you further in. It took everything in you to keep your feet planted and your fingernails dug into your palm as you watched. 

Peter smiled, blood on his lips and mouth, “Y/N,” He drawled, “Please, taste it …” He walked towards you, his hands outstretched. The blood on his lips, you could smell it, and you wanted to taste it so bad that it was hurting you. When he leaned into your lips, you didn’t stop him. His tongue entered your mouth and you felt the high he was feeling. 

Your vision began to blur a little as your head tilted back. Peter’s hands were holding you steady as the biggest smile spread across your lips. It was like tasting heaven, something beyond reality and you wanted to never let that supernatural feeling go. 

You felt a foreign hand against your back but you felt like welcoming any touch under the influence of the drug. As Peter pulled his lips away from you, your eyes opened to Steve’s as he was offering you his wrist. With the taste already on the tongue, you gladly accepted more, Peter’s hands roaming over your body as you drank. 

You weren’t sure how you made it to the bed, it felt like you had floated. Peter was right, he was so right, were all the words you could think. You heard those words, felt Peter’s hands, and watched as Steve’s lips turned into a mischievous smile. 

Steve stepped away, the cut on his arm already healing, as he made himself comfortable in a lounging chair by the fireplace. He had to give it to the kid, he seemed to know your body much better than he expected for a guy his age. Either that, or you couldn’t tell what was what at the moment and it was all just pleasure in your glazed over eyes. 

Your head tilted to the side so Steve could analyze every detail of your face. Your dress was pulled down at the top and the bottom rolled up past your stomach. Peter held your legs firmly, biting and kissing your thighs as he made himself comfortable between your legs. 

“God, I fucking love you,” Steve smiled at Peter’s words. Your back arched up as he finally pushed your panties aside, tasting your warm center, “You smell so good. You taste so good.”

You cried out his name, biting down on your bottom lip, and Steve imagined you accidentally drawing blood.  You wouldn't have noticed, there was already blood dripping down your chin. Steve liked how loud you were, he didn’t like the girls that held everything in, and he liked even more how Peter took your mewlings as encouragement to lap at you faster. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, gripping the sheets tightly. Steve felt his pants begin to tighten though he promised himself he would wait, “Fuck, fuck!” You finally came and Peter crawled up your body in order to kiss you on your lips. 

He fumbled with his belt and Steve felt his desperation to be inside you. He was still slow with you when he finally entered you, much more patient than Steve imagined he would be. He kept things slow so you could adjust. He made love to you, kissing your neck, “Is that good?”

You nodded eagerly, “Y-Yeah! Like that …. I love that, Petey. Feels so good … feels so good.”

It was more than ecstasy. The blood mixed with the love of your life, you thought you might cry knowing that no other feeling could compare. 

+

Steve watched the young lovebirds through several rounds and several different positions, your stamina never seeming to run out. Like any other drug, the high relieved the side effects but it didn’t last forever. Eventually, you and Peter floated to sleep. 

You slept through the entire morning and you thought you’d wake in Peter’s arms. You could face any shame and guilt if you were with him but, when your heavy eyes finally opened, you were alone. Your palm against your head, you sat up in the bed, a little bit of sun creeping through the curtains. Looking down, you were completely naked most likely from last night's escapades. 

You felt dirty, for more than one reason. “Peter,” You whispered, stepping out of the bed to look for your dress. Covering your chest, you kneeled down to check beneath the bed, “Peter.”

You breathed heavily, trying to push down your anxiousness as you struggled to find your clothes. When the door of the room opened, you panicked, grabbing ahold of the comforter and pulling it against your body. 

It wasn’t Peter or Steve but a dark haired man, abnormally muscular for a vampire just like Steve. He tilted his head as he looked at you, “Where’s Peter?” You asked immediately. 

“Who?” He raised an eyebrow, shutting the door, “Ohhh, Peter. Right. The boyfriend.”

“Where’s Peter and who are you?” You continued, your eyes wide with fear. Bucky ran his hand over his beard before folding his arms over each other. 

“I’m Steve’s … friend,” You began to recognize him from all the photos, “There’s a few of us who share this house, you know. And I heard you all last night, I asked Steve if I could join the fun but sitting on the sidelines is a bit boring to me.” 

You didn’t care, “If you’re not gonna tell me where Peter is-”

He rolled his eyes, “He’s with Natasha I think. He woke up still craving. Are you craving something too, dollface?”

“Nothing from you,” You shook your head though the idea of his bleeding wrist did pop into your brain, “I-I need to see him.”

“Be my guest. Are you going naked?” You scowled at him, “Go clean up first, please. There should be something for you to wear in the bathroom.”

The two of you stared awkwardly until Bucky realized you weren’t going to move until he left the room, “Fine,” He raised his hands in defeat, “They always get shy in the morning.” He mumbled to himself as the door shut. You quickly hurried to the bathroom, shutting and locking it. 

Why the hell was Peter with Natasha? She’d look at him like she wanted to devour him, in a completely non-vampire kind of way. And he’d left you all alone for that man to find you. Sure, you’d done things last night you weren’t proud of but he’d promised that things would go back to normal after. 

You freshened up in the sink, throwing on a night blue, silk nightgown. You had to scrub the dry blood off of your lips and your inner thighs and you were forced to relive the night. Everything was perfect but as soon as you thought about who watched and probably got off to it, you only felt guilty. You felt even more guilty that you were craving more blood. 

The room was empty when you stepped back into it. Tip toeing over to the bedroom door, you made sure to check to see if the coast was clear before stepping out into the hallway. You thought you could find Peter, snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and take the two of you home even if you had to carry him out on your back. 

“Natasha warned me to keep an eye on you,” He appeared in front of you so suddenly that a small shriek left your lips. You backed up quickly only to run into another tall figure. 

“Bucky, you’re going to hurt her,” Steve warned, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. 

Bucky smirked, “No blood, no foul.”

“You say that now.”

You stepped away from both of them, your back pressing against the nearest wall, “Would you like breakfast, doll?” Steve asked, catching you off guard. 

“You should get something on your stomach, doll,” Bucky seemed to mimic Steve’s concerned nature which caused Steve to press his lips into a frustrated, thin line. 

“Where. Is. Peter? I want to go home.”

“He’s-”

Bucky interrupted him, “You can’t go home.”

“Buck-”

“There’s no use in sugarcoating it,” Bucky stepped closer, resting his arm above you, “We need new blood bags and it’s not like you guys have much to go back to.” 

“We’re not blood bags-”

“We’re all blood bags,” Bucky chuckled, “You guys need us too. Anyways, it’s not a request. Steve is just nicer than me but we’re all going to take what we want.”

You slipped away from him, your feet pushing you even though you knew you were faster. The only reason Bucky didn’t chase after you was because of Steve, “Peter!” You called out, running down the hall, “Peter!” You frantically opened each door you walked past until you got to the end of the hallway. 

When you stormed in, you found him shirtless, sprawled on a bed. Natasha, in a robe, was in front of a vanity, brushing through her red hair. You hurried over to the bed, grabbing a hold of his shoulders, “Peter, we have to get out of here.”

He smiled, softly grabbing ahold of your arm, “My love, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” He was so high that you weren’t even sure if he was really seeing you. 

Tears pricked your eyes, “You promised, Peter. You promised.”

He shushed you, “It’s okay, just give me a few … hours. We’ll be … okay.”

You felt hands on your waist that you didn’t fight. She brushed a piece of hair from your face, touching your cheek with her freezing hand, “I knew you’d like her, Buck. They're both so perfect,” Natasha guided you away from the bed and towards the door where the other two vampires were standing, “So who gets the first bite?”

“Steve’s had his fun. She’s mine tonight.” 

+

hope you enjoyed that fun little one-shot!

[darling-i-read-it]

Peace

Karl Heisenberg x reader, Ethan Winters and the other Lords x platonic!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR RE8!!, insinuations to smut, talks about having children

Author’s Note: this is so wacky and i just now finished it. Its just for fun and an excuse to write domestic resident evil 8 characters. I had a blast doing it. Also it was loosely influenced by @/nerdymixedpan on tiktok who makes this kind of AU stuff! Highly recommend their tiktoks

Summary: An AU where Ethan didn’t kill any of the Lords and was convinced to stay, leave Mia (the crazy chick who tried to kill him and also worked for a sketchy company prior to that) and raise Rose with the Lords and the reader.

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were walking around Dimitrescu castle, as you often did. You hopped between places when you could. You always went to sleep at the Heisenberg factory but you did get along well with the other Lords and liked to pay them a visit when you could.

It was actually Cassandra who asked for your presence. You had heard of course that the village was being attacked but you didn’t mind too much about that at the moment. Cassandra wanted you over at the castle, to try and talk some sense into Ethan Winters.

You had heard of Ethan at that point, of course. Everyone had. The father of the infamous Rose. But you didn’t think you would get to meet him.

So you came over there and knocked on Alcinas bedroom door. She swung it open, gazing down at you. She was no longer surprised when she came over and usually was quite pleased to have someone to talk to. Rarely did she speak to people outside her daughters and Mother Miranda and she had a responsibility to those people. She didn’t have a responsibility to you.

“What brings you along here? We’re a bit busy. I assume you’ve heard Ethan WInters has escaped Heisenbergs grasp.” You let out a huff of air and nodded.

“Yes, he was not pleased when he came back home. Cassandra called, said I should try and talk to him.”

“Cassandra wants him murdered.”

“Maybe she has some sympathy because of the baby,” you suggested. You gestured to the large castle. “Any idea where I can find him?” She shook her head, exasperated.

“If I had any idea, don’t you think I would have gone to find him already?” You nodded stiffly.

“I will look for him myself then. If you find a short person not in robes, double check to make sure it’s not me before you claw them,” you told her. She gave you a small smirk before you turned around and started back down the stairs.

You had free reign of the castle and had learned its insides and outs at this point. On occasion the girls asked you to stay over and hang out for a little while longer so you had slept there as well.

You started to check a couple of the rooms, walking around haphazardly. It was when you came to a room on the main floor that you found the Duke. He sat there and raised his eyebrows at the sight of you.

“You aren’t Ethan Winters,” he said.

“Ah so you’ve seen him. Care to point me in the right direction?” Duke shrugged a bit.

“He’ll be here eventually if you care to wait.” You let out a sigh. You could go searching but it was a sure bet that he will return to this spot. You pulled up a chair from the table there.

“Alright then. You selling any good food?”

=====

Ethan came running into the room as you were enjoying a nice dish. You stood up quickly, putting your dish down on the table. He had his gun up but dropped it at the sight of you.

“Are you a villager? Do you need help getting out?” he asked, clearly out of breath. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, no. I’m here to talk to you Ethan.” He was still clearly frazzled. You grabbed your dish and held it up to him. “Care for some food?” you asked, hopefully as a peacemaker. He looked between you and the food and saw that you at least looked human.

He put his gun in his holster and took the food from you.

“Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked, sitting down at the table. “Who are you anyway?”

“This is Karl Heisenberg's pet,” said the Duke. You scoffed.

“Shush up, you’re not helping.” You sat beside Ethan. “Ethan, I know where Rose is.”

“You know where Rose is?! Where is she?!”

“Shush, let me finish.” You cleared your throat. “This whole thing, all of it, is about Mother Miranda. She took the place of Mia to try and take Rose away. She believes Rose will be a good vessel. Ethan, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl, none of the Lords are your enemy. It’s just Mother Miranda.”

“Well it looks like everyone is trying to kill me.” You shook your head.

“If you helped them kill Mother Miranda, they will let you keep Rose. In fact, I have it on good authority that most of them would love to help take care of her.” Ethan stared at you for a minute and leaned back. He had some food on his chin. You handed him a napkin and he took it gratefully. “And Ethan...Mia told Mother Miranda that you...you’re not exactly human.”

His eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re mold Ethan.” He was silent for a very long time. Everything raced through his head. Why would he want to stay here? Granted the castle was nice...and these people did know how to save Rose...it would protect him from anything else Chris had planned that he didn’t know about.

And apparently, Mia had been keeping this secret for God knows how long.

It all seemed like too much for him.

“Take a second to take that in. I don’t want to rush you but I have to talk to the daughters about it.”

“You swear they’ll help me with Rose?”

“No one wants her to die, Ethan. We want Mother Miranda gone.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m human. I’m not mold, I’m not an experiment. Just human. If I could live a happy life here, why can’t you and Rose?”

That made sense. If anything made sense, that did. Ethan took a deep breath.

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

======

Some Time After The Death of Mother Miranda

“Have you seen Rose? She’s getting bigger everyday.” Karl was speaking when he walked into your room. You were sitting on the bed, flipping through a book. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face.

“What, now that you’ve killed Mother Miranda you’ve moved on to caring about the village baby?” you questioned, putting your hand in your palm. He gave you a look but you ignored him.

“You act as though you don’t want a baby every time you see her,” he commented. You scoffed.

“And it always ends up being pretty pleasurable for you doesn’t it?” You grabbed his hand and pushed him down on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. You wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“You’re damn right.” He brought your hand up to kiss it. “Ethan’s going to Moreaus today, to swim around with Rose. He invited you,” Karl said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did he invite me or do you want a nice night again?” He kissed your hand again and then kissed your wrist.

“You won’t know until you get there.”

“Fair point my love, fair point.” You kissed his cheek and got up. “I have lunch with Donna but I’ll try and catch up with Ethan afterwards. I may make it, I may not.” You slid off the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

He wanted to get up and drag you back but you were already walking out the door.

====

Ethan was by the water, holding Rose in his lap. She was truly getting bigger every day. Moreau was standing beside them, dry now. Ethan’s hair was damp. They must have just gotten done swimming.

“Good of you to join us,” Ethan said as you walked over.

“Salvatore, Ethan…” You leaned over Ethan to look Rose in the eyes. “Little Rosey. How was swimming you guys? Sorry it took so long, I was with Donna and lunch went overtime.” You sat down beside them.

“Rose was perfect,” Moreau said. “She’s a quick learner!” You nodded, looking over at her. You brought your finger up to her and she latched onto it.

“I believe it,” you said. Ethan locked eyes with you.

“I wanted you to come because I heard that Chris was trying to get into the factory.” You raised an eyebrow. You wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned against them.

“He’s still trying to get in here? I thought once Miranda was killed he would leave us alone.” Ethan shook his head.

“Apparently he wants Rose because she’s an asset now,” he muttered but he was looking down at his daughter who was reaching up to his face. He sighed. “She’s getting hungry.”

“You should probably take her back to the castle then.” That was where Ethan usually slept with her. He figured it would be easiest to keep Rose safe with four vampires around at all time that adored her.

“Yes my sister will be wondering where you are,” Moreau said. You nodded in agreement.

“I’ll tell Karl about Chris although I don’t think he’ll get past the Lycans. Then he has to worry about the machines that Karl makes and those are a hassle too. Not the brightest, but a hassle,” you admitted, standing. “I’ll walk you back.” Ethan nodded. You turned to Moreau. “I’ll see you later as well. Try to catch up on the TV show we were watching, I don’t wanna miss anything.”

“I will, of course!” he exclaimed. You smiled and then turned back to walk with Ethan and Rose back up to the Castle. You got into the boat.

“Can you hold her while I steer?” Ethan asked. You nodded and took Rose from him, cradling her in your arms. She was looking around, ever the well behaved child. Ethan started the boat and then you were off.

There was a few minutes of silence as he started to catch his bearings and you played with Rose. You and Ethan had grown close over the weeks he had lived there. He rarely knew peace and didn’t trust it that much but you always assured him that it would be alright.

“I was thinking of maybe starting to rebuild the village,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“By yourself?” You scoffed.

“No, obviously not. I’d get the help of everyone. Donna and Angie already wanna pitch in and I figure I could guilt trip Karl into helping, with his whole telepathy thing. I think it could be a fun project. Plus if you accidentally lose a hand you can put it right back on.”

He nudged you, laughing.

“I don’t think it’s a bad plan but who will live there?”

“Us maybe. Separate housing of course but it could be a home away from the Lords. And any villagers left stragglers around.”

“I don’t think there are any left,” he told you.

“Well have you checked?” He was silent. “Exactly. Rose may want a place for herself one day, who knows.” You looked back down at her. She was reaching up to play with your ear.

“She’ll need friends her own age one day,” he said, solemnly.

“We’ll see to that when it comes.” He looked back at you.

“Have you and Heisenberg ever talked about kids?” he teased. You laughed.

“We have our hands full with Rose and the thousands of metal children he makes on the daily,” you admitted. You glanced down at Rose again. “But maybe one day. He seems to be hinting at it and I don’t know...maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”

Ethan glanced back at you and then quickly looked away. You looked happy, curious, wondering.

“If it’s any help...I’m glad I had her. Even if she got me into this whole mess,” he said laughing a bit. You smiled up at him as he pulled into the dock.

“You want a little Heisenberg running around?” Ethan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t mind a little you. Rose could have a friend.” He got out of the boat and you handed him Rose. You got out as well.

“We’ll see. Karl may be banking on it.” You both started to walk back into town. At the castle entrance you had to part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, if your legs still work.” You gasped, shoving him.

“You have a mouth on you Ethan Winters for living in a house with four other grown women,” you said. He laughed and went into the gate without saying anything else.

The walk back to the factory was a pleasant one. The sun was setting and the breeze was nice. Not too hot, not too cold.

You made it back to Karl in record timing. He wasn’t in the room so you went looking for him. He was in one of the work rooms, leaning over one of his new inventions. You walked up behind him and leaned over the head of the machinery.

“Hey there kitten! Back up, it might come alive at any second,” he muttered, moving you back. You nodded, stepping away from the table. He turned off his recording and turned around to look at you.

“Well how was swimming with Moreau?”

“And Rose and Ethan. I caught the tail end. She had fun though. You’re right, she is growing everyday.”

“I take it by you referencing our earlier conversation you remember how it ended.”

“I’m not doing it if this machine will come alive half way through and kill us.” Karl scoffed and took your hand.

“Up to the bedroom it is kitten!” You scoffed but let him drag you along, giggling the whole way up.