#too badly for a permanent filling so i had to wait until today

[the-gift-of-submission]

Inside a Submissives Soul -

Dear Diary -

This weekend is going to be a local spent weekend and a relatively relaxed one hopefully. He picks me up after I've gotten home to get ready, I always pack the night before so it is just a quick shower and get ready. We order a pizza to collect after picking a few bits of shopping to have some meals in the van over the weekend. On collecting our pizza, we head to the canal to get parked up and settled for the night. He sets out the table top, we sit, chat and munch through our dinner. We talk about alsort, experiences, food and drink, general conversation etc. Once we have eaten and cleared away we get snug to chill and chat a little while longer

The first day of the weekend, my family want some time at a cocktail bar in the city so we have a lazy morning. We have some play, my lips, his member, his fingers between my legs. We get ready, mainly in the van however I am able to use my family's house to wash dry and style my hair. It's fairly cold out so we are dressed fairly casual to be comfortable but still nice enough to look pretty. He approves of me. Today he meets my family, he is ever so good with them as they are him too. I'm happy to see this, I'm glad things go well and we all have a great time. After several drinks, lot of chit chat and giggles, we head back to our home time. We used the bus too and from the city as it's easier, walked back to my families house, had a warm drink made and then headed back to the van to settle for the night. Despite a nice night, he is fairly low, I understand and we snuggle close until he sleeps then I fall sleep knowing he has drifted.

In the morning I am greeted with his hands over me to him wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in close, his lips meet my lips, we kiss. I love waking up next to him, I can't wait for the day it becomes permanent and we are slowly working towards that. His Sunday morning b***j** is something not only he enjoys but something I very much enjoy too. In my position, side on to him, he is able to reach under and feel between my legs. It isn't long before I am able to reach climax, I often do whilst sucking him, something about the oral excites me greatly and under the right conditions, I will release in using my mouth on him. He bulges and releases himself, his warm drink filling my throat for a chilly morning. So very yum.

After getting up and sorted, we moved on to get a bacon sandwich and a warm cup of tea and coffee. We didn't have much planned, we went for a drive and thought about somewhere to have food. As we arrived at a place that would be nice to try, he was low already and I felt myself fill with so much anxiety I started to have a panic attack. Filled with so much worry, fear and uncertainty about what is happening from one day to the next, I couldn't control my emotions and I became angry, almost lashing out at him, I contained myself as much as I felt I could but I wanted to take it out in myself. I always end up attacking myself, I don't want to lash out on those I love. He tried to comfort me, I tried to help me rationalise, more than anything, he stayed with me.

He had sat beside me for some time as I went through the anxiety attack, he got out and came around to me on the passenger side and pulled me in to hold me tight. I cried, cried some more. I hate feeling like this and it isn't fair on him either. As I calmed he settled me into my seat again and returned to his side to drive us back to the canal where we were able to sit and snuggle. As we spent time close to one another, he and I just being together was enough. He began to tease me with his fingers, which lead me to wanting more, I always want more but he resisted. I took this badly and went into Catharsis after being high from him using his fingers. I felt so rejected even though he wasn't trying to reject me.

There is so much going on in my head, in his head. I cried again and cried some more. He held me, I held him and we held eachother tightly. He talks to me through my troubled internal conflict and eventually I settle but we are to end our weekend again on what feels like a low because I can't cope and neither can he. We do our best to stay strong, wipe away eachothers tears and head back to our reality yet again.

We met again midweek, both of us feeling low. We haven't played much recently in b.d.s.m and kink terms, dont get me wrong, the traits are always there when we are intimate, the Dominant in him is always there, he is just softer, sensual and gentler more often than not at present. He isn't one to pose as an Alpha, he is simply Dominant and knows how to behave appropriately as such. He is also able to facilitate things that may not be something that he enjoys but he is happy to accommodate under the right circumstances. My submissive nature is always there too, always following his lead, listening for his request, suggestion, instruction, order etc. I am always wanting to be presentable and open to him. I am very much exploring various parts of my submissive nature and what it means for me but I also know I have a very long way to go before I potentially figure myself out, if I ever do figure myself out.

We spend quality time together, going out and about, wandering having mini adventures which I love immensely. Any time with him is time more than just well spent. We are intimate almost always, not just on a sexual level but in the way we are close, always making contact in some way. It's what I need, what I want and it very much seems the same for him too. The connection, the chemistry is strong between us, our passion is powerfully uniting. I am incredibly lucky to have him here with me. We will get past the hurt, our inner turmoil and despair will fade in time, one day, we will just have eachother, nothing else will matter.

[fingertipsmp3]

Guess who just got her teeth fixed!!!!

[flusteredloser]

sugar sweet

richie tozier x fem reader

category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff

word count: 3,3k

content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia

a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy

🎡

"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."

you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.

despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter. 

he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.

keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.

"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.

"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"

your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."

"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."

he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.

richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”

his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.

once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets. 

you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.

you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”

he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.” 

“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"

richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”

“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.

“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.

“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”

he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”

“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”

“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”

you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?” 

he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”

finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.

he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal. 

“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.”  “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”

you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?”  she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”

“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair. 

bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.

“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.

🎡

"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."

"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”

"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”

"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"

richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.

"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.

the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry. 

currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling. 

“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.

“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”

“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.

“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed. 

“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.

“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.” 

stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"

the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence. 

you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.

ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”

you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”

“was too.”

"was. not."

"was too!"

you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”

bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.

“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.

“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”

"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.

“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.” 

“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”

you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...” 

“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.

you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.

aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”

“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.

“what?”

“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”

“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.

of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends. 

there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan). 

so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?

“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.

“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”

you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”

“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”

you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.

you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...” 

you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”

“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.” 

you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening. 

“i- no. that was it.”  

“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.

“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.

“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.

he’s gotta know... right? 

you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous. 

“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his. 

“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”

the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. “you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”

bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red. 

richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud. 

shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.

“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.

there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face. 

“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”

you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”

“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.

you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say. 

“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”

“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face.  fuck.  “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”

trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent. 

it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze. 

after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”

you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?” 

“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.

“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”

with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."

🎡

[thefloorisbalaclava]

hi lovie how r u? I dunno if u r taking requests, but maybe... I was thinking something where Javier starts to get a little bit cold towards y/n cos he saw horrible things that the narcos, pablo sicarios, did to some woman's relative to some other guys, including to Connie's cat and he's scared as hell they do something to y/n but when he realizes she's so sad and down, peña stars to show little acts of love in secrecy, like a note, one flower, a ring, just I don't know some angst and fluffy sorry for this long ass ask. thank you for your good posts ♡

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, flashbacks, trauma, mentions of sex

A/N: My friend and I have been talking about Javi a lot lately so you sent this at the perfect time! Thanks!

[Javier Peña masterlist]

“Are you coming to see me today?” you asked Javier over the phone. He looked around the office then lowered his voice.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He regretted it almost immediately.

“I haven’t seen you in a week, Javi,” you reminded him. It was becoming plainly obvious that he was trying to avoid you or at least distance himself from you. What had you done wrong?

“I’ve been...busy,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a lie but just a few weeks ago, he had made time to see you almost every day.

“Right,” you sighed. You looked at the bags of groceries you bought to make dinner for you and him tonight. “Whatever.”

Javier sighed loudly. “I’ll call you later. I-” You hung up before he could finish whatever it was he was going to say. He slammed the phone down on the receiver and put his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he whispered.

He knew getting involved with you was a bad idea and not because you weren’t good or anything like that. If anything, you were too good. Fucking perfect. You were his safe haven, his softness, his saving grace. And that was the problem. You saved him but what if he couldn’t save you? He had seen what could happen to you. If anyone wanted to hurt him, you’re the first person they would go after and he couldn’t have that. He experienced firsthand with someone he loved and, God, he couldn’t live through that again. So he had to leave you.

Because he loved you.

You stared at him in awe as he stood in front of you and told you this. Then you scoffed and turned away. It was all you could do to stop yourself from slapping him in his stupid, beautiful face.

“To protect me?” you repeated bitterly. “Just say that you don’t wanna be with me and stop using work as an excuse.”

“I’m not here to argue with you,” he said calmly.

“No, you’re only here to break my heart,” you snapped. “Well...you can go.”

“Okay but-”

“No! Just go...please.” You couldn’t look at him mostly because you were so angry but also because you didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes. “I’m sure there’s a woman out there who will happily welcome you back into her bed.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said and finally you whipped around to look at him.

“Fuck you, Javier.” You didn’t care if he saw the tears now. “If you’re being cold and indifferent to try and make this easier...fine. It worked. Get out. I never want to see you again.” You stormed away only to grab the pack of cigarettes he left on your table for when he came over. “Don’t forget these.” You threw the pack, hitting him directly in the face.

He scoffed and picked the cigarettes up then turned to the door. He stopped as if he was going to say something but then you heard the door close behind you and he was gone. Only when he was back in his car did he let his emotions show. His eyes filled with tears and he hit the steering wheel over and over again before putting his head against it. He tried lighting a cigarette but his hands shook so badly that it was impossible. Another burst of anger as he threw his lighter somewhere in his car.

He had to do it. Right? He had to. He couldn’t stand having another one of those dreams about finding Helena only for her to change into you when he got close enough.

There were plenty of nights where he would sit outside your place in his car just to make sure you got home okay. He was dreading the day he saw a man following you inside. He also wondered if you got any of the notes and gifts he left for you. This was the safest thing for now. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes when you found another note from Javier slipped under your door, another little gift for you on the table, and a bottle of your favorite wine. The first time it happened you could only laugh to yourself when you remembered that he still had a key to your place.

As always, you threw everything in the garbage.

Except for the notes. For some reason you couldn’t part with them. Maybe because they smelled like him--that faint smell of his soap mixed with the smell of his cigarettes. Maybe because when you read them you did so in his voice. That goddamn voice of his and how it could change so quickly. Sometimes it was sweet and welcoming with just enough rasp to give him that air of that bad boy type. Other times it was low and growly which was usually reserved for when he was inside you, talking dirty to you, calling you a bad girl but how you were so good for taking him so well.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip at the thought.

“Enough,” you said quietly, walking over to grab that unopened bottle of wine from the top of the trash.

Some nights you felt like you were being watched when you walked home from work but not in a threatening way. If Javier was watching you he kept himself hidden well because you could never find his car when you stopped to look for it.

You touched the necklace you wore as you turned the corner to your apartment and Javier watched. It made him sit up a bit when he noticed you were wearing it. He waited until he was sure you were settled down--he knew you had to ear dinner, shower, then watch a little television before you really got ready for bed.

Then he called.

“Hello.” You answered on the third ring like you always did. He didn’t know what to say. Hey, I’m sorry I was an idiot? Hey, I’ve been watching you come home every night like some creep? “Hello?” He could hear the slight annoyance in your tone.

“I-It’s me. It’s Javi,” he finally said.

“Oh...”

“Don’t hang up!” He added quickly.

“I want my key back,” you said.

“So you’ve been getting them?” he asked.

“Getting what?” You looked down at the necklace then touched it.

“The gifts I’ve been leaving you.” He looked up at your window and could see your silhouette through the curtains.

“I throw them all away,” you lied.

“I don’t blame you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I miss you.”

You were quiet for a long time--afraid to speak because you knew what would happen if you did. “I miss you too,” you cried, sniffling quietly. Javier’s heart ached. He wanted nothing more than to run up those stairs and into your arms. But as soon as he closed his eyes he could only see you lying there, beaten and bloody, all because he couldn’t leave you alone.

“I’m gonna hold you again one day,” he said. “I promise. We’re both gonna get the fuck outta here...so far away. No one will be able to find us.” His throat tightened as his own tears threatened to spill over. “Look out the window...”

“What?”

“Just look out the window.” He looked up at your window just in time to see you carefully pull the curtains back slightly. “Hey hermosa.”

“Hey handsome,” you said tearfully.

“No llores,” he said although there was a tear rolling down his cheek now. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Promise me you’ll hold me again, you’ll kiss me again, you’ll make love to me again,” you cried.

“I promise. I swear to you.” He looked up and saw that you put your hand against the window so he put his against the car window. “I love you.”

“I love you too...you asshole.” You laughed through your tears and it made him smile.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, not wanting to let you go.

“Goodnight, Javi.” You hung up and walked away from the window. It would hurt too much to watch him drive away.

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[fairyoftbz]

il y aura des jours meilleurs | c. chanhee

🖤 pairing: bf!chanhee x fem!reader 🖤 word count: 2k 🖤 genre: angst, comfort, fluff 🖤 tw: negative thoughts, hints of depressive thoughts and struggling  🖤 synopsis: you’re exhausted to the point of giving up but Chanhee is your source of hope and here for you. 🖤 a/n: happy birthday to our pretty boi chanhee!! 💌 i’m currently watching him decorate his cake and talk, he’s so cute :(( i know it’s a bit of a sad story for his birthday but i really wanted to write something for him and my french project! i hope it’ll be enough!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

You sighed as you walked through your front door, carelessly tossing your belongings on the floor. Not even bothering about hanging your jacket and light scarf, you walked in the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat. Closing your eyes, it was hard to be positive at this point. It was the third bad day in a row, and it started to really look like the world was planning a mischievous plan to ruin your life. Out of the last week, you couldn’t even point out a positive thing that had happened. Well, Chanhee’s presence and his love always managed to make you smile and feel comforted, but today, it looked like it wouldn’t be sufficient to see the idea of a smile on your face. The permanent frown that you kept on wearing left you with a pounding headache, your surroundings becoming slightly dizzy.

You were impressed when you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry no matter how hard you tried. This lump in your throat and the weight you felt in your chest didn’t seem to subside when you got out of the boiling shower you’ve just had, so you gave up in trying to feel better for tonight.

“Just not this week,” you mumbled to yourself as you lazily dried your hair with a towel before applying some face cream. It was such an exhausting task for you to execute, but you would hate yourself even more in the morning if you saw breakouts appearing because of the dryness of your skin. It was already hard enough for you to control your emotions, your current goal was to not pile up things that could actually ruin your day or make you insecure even more.

You sighed again, deeper this time when you noticed yourself into the foggy mirror. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you tried to tame down the negative thoughts that were starting to cloud your mind, finally feeling the tears filling your eyes, but you didn’t feel any better. You wiped them away with the back of your hand, quickly applying your serum before switching the lights off and walk out of the bathroom.

With clenched jaws, you stared at the kitchen as you stood in the middle of the corridor, not feeling like eating anything right now. You just weren’t hungry, and even your favourite meal wouldn’t be able to change that. Chanhee would usually scold you when skipped meals out of pure stress or just because you didn’t have time, but today, it was different. Yeah, you weren’t hungry, but you also didn’t feel like cooking at all. It would require too many efforts for you to even get a pan out of the drawer, your stomach twisting uncomfortably at the mere idea of food.

Falling head first into your pillow, you stifled a dry sob as you held the comforter tight against your chest, taking deep breaths as you were trying to calm down. Many thoughts were running inside your mind and you felt like drowning and suffocating in your own sorrow, not knowing what to do or how to act to get better. With your hands covering your face, you allowed yourself to let the tears of despair roll down your cheeks in the quietest way possible. 

The pressure in your chest didn’t magically fade away as you had hoped to, it simply worsened. Having a hard time breathing, you opened your mouth wide and took deep breaths as you tried your hardest to get better, but nothing didn’t really work.

So you gave up. You let the tears flood your entire face and neck and cry in the loudest way possible, not feeling any better. The sorrows living in your body intensified, tightening your throat in the most painful way as you tried to subside your own cries.

You froze when you saw the lights of the corridor flicker open, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle any sound that could come out of it, the tears filling up your eyes making everything around you blurry and messy. Pursing your lips and closing your eyes, you recognised your boyfriend’s steps walking around the apartment as big tears kept rolling down your face.

Chanhee opened the front door, the darkness and the silence of the apartment welcoming him in. He frowned as the atmosphere felt weird, unusual. He knew something was wrong when he noticed that your coat was messily lying around the floor, the light of the bathroom wall cabinet not properly turned off, like you always made sure to do it. Chanhee looked around the apartment, and you were nowhere to be seen. It’s when he took off his shoes and partially pushed the bedroom door open that he noticed your figure, lying in bed.

You turned to your side, back facing the door as you heard your boyfriend getting closer, hand still on your mouth as you tried to look and sound asleep. Focusing on your heartbeat, you managed to calm down a bit and get a grip on your emotions for a quick second, slowly feeling numb. You closed your eyes and tried to follow a regular breathing pattern to make your boyfriend believe that you were already sleeping, and waited.

The latter entered the bedroom on his tiptoes, a knee on the mattress as it dipped under his weight, the young man stretching his neck over your shoulders to see you asleep. He delicately removed a strand of hair from your face and kissed your cheek, frowning and retracted his mouth as he felt a wet sensation lingering on his lips. He gently caressed your head as he felt the saltiness when his tongue met his lips, the dots connecting in his head.

You waited for him to close the door and leave to sigh and wince, realising that you’ll have to talk to him about your damp cheeks. The tears welled back up when you didn’t want to talk to anyone about what was happening inside your head. You hated when your boyfriend saw you like that, because you knew that Chanhee cared for you and wanted to help you. You also knew it was coming from a good intention, but you didn’t feel like getting anyone’s help right now.

Chanhee came to bed a few minutes later, blindly wandering to the bed to not wake you up by turning on the lights. He stayed silent for a moment as your back was still facing him, hearing him sigh as he pulled the covers on his body. He took your stillness as a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him, because he knew that you weren’t asleep yet. He knew you too well to know that you were pretending, but he also knew that it was your toxic way of coping with your feelings.

Later that night, as the clock struck 3 am, you were still wide awake, resting on your back with your hands joined on your stomach, blankly staring at the ceiling as loud and intrusive thoughts invaded your brain. Chanhee was innocently sleeping next to you, a hand extended towards you as if it were a subconscious offer from him to hold his hand. As stubborn as you were and for the third time this week, you refused to get his help, even if you knew deep down that you needed it very badly. 

You knew that he could actually help you, but it was easier for you to stay in your sorrow and lament yourself until you felt numb, rather than getting help and get back on the path or happiness. You always acted like this, and you never bothered to change any of your unhealthy coping mechanisms.

However, a tiny voice in your head almost begged you to reach out to hold his hand. Your chest tightened as you stared at his slender digits, whose touch never failed to give you reassurance and comfort. Him caressing your arms or cheeks was a sensation that you discovered when you started dating, and it became just as addictive as a drug. You needed it to feel better and worth it. It was as if the remedy was within easy reach, but you didn’t dare touching it because it was sacred. Though luckily this time, you decided to gather your strength and change things.

Chanhee got drawn away from his slumber as he felt a familiar hand touching him, your digits closing around his hand. He opened his eyes and turned to look at you, the shallow lights of the city illuminating the bedroom. Noticing your pearly eyes, he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, feeling you burst into tears against his shoulder.

“Shh baby. Breathe Y/N, breathe,” he said as his hand touched the back of your head, gently rubbing it to soothe you. “I- I can’t… I can’t do it anymore,” you managed to stutter as you gasped for air, your sobs being so intense that you could barely focus on anything else. “Don’t say things like that, I know you can,” he mumbled in your ear, but you shook your head. “I’m so tired… I’m so exhausted,” his hand gently massaged your head as he repositioned himself under you, your head now on his chest.

His calm heartbeat resonated in your ear, trying to shoo away the negative thoughts in your head. Chanhee didn’t say anything, he understood that he wouldn’t be able to convince you tonight. His chances will probably be higher by tomorrow when you’ll have calmed down from all your tormenting emotions.

“I know it won’t change anything about how you feel, but I love you and I care for you. There are harder times than others and you are going through one right now. it’s okay to feel bad, it’s okay to feel down, but the most important thing is to not give up. It’s completely normal to feel discouraged, but you have to keep going, for your own sake. And I’m here for you, no matter how lonely you felt, I’ll be by your side,” you nodded at his words, head still pressing against his chest as you tried to get his heartbeat to calm you down.

Chanhee softly rubbed your back and kissed the side of your head, knowing that you weren’t convinced at all. He cleared his throat and held you tighter, pulling the comforter higher to cover your shivering figure.

“Trust me, love, there will be better days, I promise. Those are not just words into the void, I mean them. You are going through a tough time right now, but I guarantee you that you will get better. It will take time and efforts and I know how tried you are but keep fighting. Look how far you’ve come, you always did a great job to stand back up and keep going, don’t let it ruin all the efforts you’ve gathered until now. Do it for yourself, and also for me, for us,” you looked up at him with shiny eyes and he nodded, assuring you that he meant every single word he said. 

Your boyfriend wiped the salty pearls away from your eyes and gently smiled at you, hand cradling your cheek.

“Rest now, Y/N. I’ll be here when you wake,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” you tiredly mumbled, feeling tired after all your crying. “I love you too, please never forget that,” his thumb gently rubbed the skin under your eye, instantly wiping the last few tears that you shed before falling asleep out of exhaustion, in your lover’s arms.

Chanhee sighed, tongue poking his inner cheek in frustration. He hated seeing you this down and broken, but he had faith in you. He knew that it was just temporary, that you wouldn’t give up even if you said you would. He was confident that you would jump back up on your feet and keep going, just like you’ve been doing until now. You were strong even if you never admitted it.

“I promise, there will be better days,” he whispered in your ear as he slowly slid down in the bed until his head rested on his pillow, keeping you close to his chest as he fell back asleep, just like you did a few seconds ago.

╰ It’s gonna be okay. You are going to be okay. ╮

[vixenpen]

To Resist Temptation pt.3

(Priest! Hawks x Succubus Reader)

(This is the last part and it’s just a blasphemous as the rest of them.)

Keigo worshipped you. You were his goddess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t attend mass, couldn’t lead sermons, couldn’t do his charity work—nothing—without desiring you, and the personal heaven between your legs.

You had consumed him entirely. Lust was his damnation now.

Keigo paced anxiously, feverishly dabbing at his brow as he pontificated to his rapt congregation. Stupid, gawking things all of them. He couldn’t help, but think. Those nasty, blasphemous thoughts of his only grew stronger by the day.

And then, you slipped in. Keigo’s golden eyes fell on you. Your painted lips, sparkling eyes, bouncing tits, and swaying hips. And his mind grew cloudy with thoughts of you.

The two of you had taken to communicating covertly through those tempting, stylish outfits of yours.

Pink when you wanted soft, tender loving. White when you were feeling chaste, wanting only to spend some time with him. And red when you wanted to be fucked. Well and truly fucked.

That was the color you wore today. A red wrap dress. The same color as your plump lips.

It was the first time in weeks that you’d worn red.

Keigo stalked back towards the podium to hide his erection. His golden eyed gaze was zeroed in on you.

“Now, if you all will allow, I want to talk speak on the whore of Babylon. The temptation and sin that she represents. The way she presents herself in so many forms, taking root in our lives permanently as she beckons us to bed her.”

Every venomous word was spat with such passion and radiating with such underlying lust, that it shot straight to your core. Keigo’s amber eyes remained fixed on your own as he continued to preach on the whore of Babylon.

He was angry for having to wait for sex for so long, and you knew it. You had counted on it.

You smirked at him as you uncrossed your legs to reveal your sex—wet, and warm, and shaved.

Your smile widened when Keigo stumbled over his impassioned speech. Then his voice softened into a gentle, loving tone that you had become all too familiar with.

“But there’s beauty in that scarlet whore’s hell,” he all but purred, “and it may look like heaven to a man easily lead astray...”

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

The church was dark and quiet. Keigo stood at the podium in a daze, gazing unseeingly at the empty pews where he’d been for half an hour now.

Finally, you emerged from your hiding spot where you always waited for the rest of the congregation to clear out. The red heels you wore, were muffled against the carpet as you marched through the center of the aisles.

The sun beamed through the stained glass depiction of Jesus and spilled over your approaching figure, bathing you in red.

His goddess. His devil. His light. His darkness.

You stopped just at the stage, and smirked up at him, hip cocked and arms folded.

“That was quite the performance you out on today, father.” You taunted. “Though next time, maybe refrain from all the innuendo. Why don’t you just tell them we fuck in the confession booth every other week?”

Keigo gripped the wooden podium so hard his knuckles turned white. He hung head.

“You’re the only thing that feels real anymore.” He mumbled almost as if to himself. “You’re all I think about. All I want. I don’t deserve to call myself a man of god.”

You ascended the steps and joined his side.

“No, you don’t, you never did.” You replied, laying a gentle hand on his back. “That wasn’t the path meant for you, my love.” You nuzzled his cheek.

When he spoke again he sounded broken. His smooth voice cracked under the weight of his emotions.

“What did you do to me? Please, goddess, you have to be honest with me.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you turned him to face you. Your beautiful face was soft with sympathy.

“I made you something better.” You caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I made you what you were always meant to be. A creature of sex like myself. Every succubus or incubus yearns for their twin flame, love, but not all of us find it. You’re mine. Now I don’t have to worry about the temptation. You were meant for me, Keigo.”

The man’s mouth was gaping slightly as he took in your words.

“You...you’re a-“

“Succubus, yes.”

And suddenly, like a light being flicked on, rage shrouded his handsome features.

“It’s because of you,” he hissedx “You’re the reason I’m like this.”

You said nothing.

“You don’t even care do you?”

You scoffed.

Your lack of an answer only angered the young priest more.

“Oh, not responding, huh?” He grabbed your arm roughly, spinning your body until your torso was flush with the podium. “I know what’ll get an answer out of you, whore.”

The fire was back. It rushed over both of you. Consumed the two of you from the inside out.

Keigo groped at your curves, desperate and clumsy.

You sighed and groaned as he squeezed your breasts, manipulating them out of the dress

“You knew exactly what you were when you came in that day.” He mumbled against your neck before bending you over.

A strangled moan fell from his lips as he massaged your round ass before exposing it to the cool, still air of the chapel.

“Dick hungry slut,” his hand landed against your plump bottom.

It made you moan. Such a beautiful sound. How he had missed your moans. He did it over and over again until his hand stung.

“A whore hungry for the souls of good men deserves to be fucked this way.”

You felt the tip of him run along your lips and bent over further.

“How daddy?” You cooed in response. “How does a dick hungry whore like me deserve to be fucked?”

Keigo growled low in his throat before slamming himself into you.

“Looking at these chairs,” he grunted back, rocking his hips. “Thinking about all those lost, idiotic souls who could’ve fallen prey to a Jezebel like you.”

Your juicy walls gripped and grabbed at his dick with such hunger, you thought you might absorb the man. Every thrust, every nasty word, every insult, every spank; sent an inferno of pleasure rushing through your body.

Keigo spat on your holes, admiring the beautiful skin of your ass and the pretty lips of your pussy as he plunged into you.

“You did this to me,” he sank his thumb into the puckered hole of your ass. “It’s your fault I no longer believe in his grace. It’s your fault that I’m a sinning fuck. A liar. A joke.”

If that’s what he wanted to believe. Then sure. You’d allow that for now.

You groaned as his finger slipped in and out of the tight, sensitive hold of your ass. His dick hit your gspot with every slam.

“You-you...” he practically sobbed. “You’re the only thing that feels as good as his love was supposed to.”

Your tongue lulled out of your mouth. The intense build up of your desire grew so swollen that it smothered your senses.

“Ahh, daddy! Fuck!” You twerked your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Kei-Keigo,” you gasped between they squirting and thrusting and screaming. “It was you that allowed yourself to be corrupted, wasn’t it?”

Without missing a beat he replied, guiltily; “Yes, goddess.”

“Because, ah, a small part of you-oh fuck-never believed in the word to begin with. Did you?”

His hips stuttered.

“No,” he replied, his voice meek and quiet.

“Lie down.” You commanded, calmly.

Without hesitation, he lie down on the floor. The way he gazed at you was reverent as he awaited further instruction.

You stood poised over his hard on, looking down at this pitiful new incubus. He needed you. He craved you. Poor thing.

Slowly, you sank onto his dick, forcing him to feel every crevice and ridge of your dripping pussy until you were balls deep on him.

You rode him like a thoroughbred until his mouth fell open.

“You were always a sex crazed whore weren’t you, pet?”

“Y-yes, goddess.”

“Yes what?” You hissed. You squeezed his neck, red coffin nails digging into the skin

“Ahh fuck, y-yes I’m a sex crazed wh-whore goddess.” He croaked.

You leaned down until you were right in his flushed face. Keigo struggled to crane his neck towards you. He wanted to taste you. Needed it so badly that it hurt.

“Goddess, please..” his hips bucked weakly. “My goddesss, I-I, ahaaa!”

He came. Hard. His eyes crossed. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re my slut aren’t you?” You snapped in a low, demanding voice. You jerked his head against the floor. “Say it!”

“I’mmmm y-you’re slut, goddess. I’m your slut.”

The desperate strain in his cracking voice made your pussy convulse with pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as you rode out your orgasm again and again and again.

Keigo was sobbing from the over stimulation. It hurt. It hurt so good.

“Goddess,” he whimpered, “stoppp, please, p-please, goddess.”

Your wicked laughter filled the chapel as you mocked him.

“You want me to stop, slut? Hm?” You hummed. You squeezed his throat again. In a sinister his you spat; “Then beg. Beg, my little pet incubus.”

The man’s lips trembled.

“Mercy, goddess,” he groaned. “Mercy on your pet slut, mercy. Mercyyy, fuccckkkk mercy!”

After feasting on his pleas a while longer, you finally hopped off of his half mast erection.

You kissed the man’s trembling lips over and over again, whispering words of love and praise in his ear for being so good.

“What do I do now, goddess?” He asked, weakly. “Who am I now?”

“You’re mine, pet.” You kissed his temple. “You’re mine.”

[harrysgloves]

Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours. 

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers. 

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon. 

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin. 

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit. 

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days. 

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you. 

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space. 

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone. 

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible. 

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given. 

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything. 

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better. 

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room. 

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!" 

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it." 

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?" 

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed. 

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet." 

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair. 

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions. 

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to. 

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship. 

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather. 

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch. 

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke. 

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near. 

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back. 

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left. 

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you." 

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you. 

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away. 

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one." 

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition." 

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste. 

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat. 

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs. 

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire. 

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest. 

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side. 

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter. 

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again." 

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling. 

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?" 

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

[damn-stark]

Lightning

Thor Odinson x Odinsdottir!reader, Loki Laufeyson x Odinsdottir!reader (platonic)

Summary: After the death of your brother Loki, and Frigga, things in Asgard change drastically, just like your father. Where he was once cold and distant before, now he’s caring and attentive. And you didn’t mind his change, in fact you loved that he had this new time for you, yet when you find out the truth behind his actions, how will you react?

Warning- Fluff, slight angst

———-

“This is stupid.” You groan as you kick the mirror back and fall back in your seat.

“What did that poor mirror do to you?”

At the sound of your fathers voice you throw your head up and turn to see him standing by your doorway. It was a surprise for sure, but you knew how to react by his sudden appearance.

You stand up and straighten out your shoulders, offering him a small smile. “Father.”

Said man walks into your room and picks up your mirror, standing beside it and keeping his attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

“I,” you blink, keeping your gaze on him for a brief second and silently questioning his behavior before sitting back down and refocusing on your appearance. “I can’t do my braid, it’s hard,” you sigh, feeling your smile fall, “without mother here I can’t seem to do it. I also don’t like when the handmaidens touch my hair, and Thor isn’t here to help, and Loki...is gone too. So I can’t do my braid.”

“I can help you.” Your father suddenly offers.

“Are you sure?” You ask unsurely, watching as he made his way behind you. “Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make some time,” he says as he begins to braid your hair, peeking your curiosity even more.

You don’t question it, you find it odd that he’s been so attentive lately, so involved with your days, but again, you don’t want to question it. You actually like receiving his attention. It was a good change.

“Father, do you know when Thor will be returning?”

Through his reflection from the mirror in front of you, you see him shrug and briefly lift his gaze to look at you before focusing back on your hair. “No, it seems after the dark elves attacked he hardly tells me anything. Why bored of me already?”

You narrow your gaze on his reflection, but you dont think to get too deep into what was going on. “No, it’s just I find myself bored most of the day after school, and well after mother and Loki died he always tried to make time to do something with me.”

“Do you miss Loki?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

“Even after all he did? All the terrible things he’s caused?”

You sigh and look down at your hands and create sparks of lightning between your fingers. “Loki was always nice to me, he never did the things to me that he did to, Thor. Plus, mother always said never to think of him badly,” you pause and close your fist, feeling your eyes sting with tears whilst going unaware of your “fathers” stunned pause after your comment. “So, yes I miss my brother.”

Your father clears his throat and goes back to finishing your braid in silence, patting your shoulder to signal you that he was done. When you stand up and lift your gaze to examine the braid, you gasp and feel those salty tears you withheld roll down your cheeks.

“What? Did it come out wrong?” Your father queries.

You reach for your braid and gently run your fingers down it, responding in an almost breathless manner. “It’s how Loki would braid my hair.” You turn around to face your father and you offer him a short, sweet smile. “Thank you, father.” You move to your desk and grab your things to go to class, stopping at your doorway and looking over your shoulder. “I’m going to go to class now, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Just as you turn to leave, he stops you. “Wait. Do you want to skip class today and do something else?”

“Uh,” you part your lips, spinning on your heels to face him still in your room. “But you always say learning is the fundamental of being a good princess.” You tilt your head and narrow your gaze on his face, searching it for any sign of trick.

“Well,” he shrugs as he slowly makes his way to you. “Learning magic is the fundamental of becoming a good princess too and then even better when you become queen.”

You scoff and manage an amused grin. “Queen?”

“Why yes, after I die who will rule Asgard?”

“Thor,” you respond.

Your father clasps his hands on his back and falls beside you, shaking his head as he’s quick to correct your answer. “What if I don’t want it to be, Thor? You my sweet si—daughter, will make a perfect fit to be queen, with your powers and knowledge. That’s why learning magic is beneficial.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and turns you around to walk off with you at his side. “What do you know about magic?”

“Not so much,” you shrug, “just a bit of what Loki and Frigga taught me.”

“Don’t you want to learn more?” Your father presses as he guides you out of the golden castle. “Just imagine with your powers and magic combined, you’d be powerful.”

Perhaps you should question his behavior deeper, really just think about what he was proposing—learning magic from your father?

But that part of you that felt your fathers negligence in the past loved the attention he was recently giving you. You desired to be loved by him like he loved Thor. So that’s why you didn’t want to question this strange new behavior.

You smile widely and finally come to an easy agreement. “Okay I want to learn more magic.”

“Good,” your father pats your shoulder, guiding you to the green gardens outside. “First let’s see your power, what’s your highest running record now?”

“Forty-five seconds.”

“Hmm,” your father hums as he parts away and stops you both in your tracks, stepping to the side to stand before you. “Have you tried incorporating your lightning when you run? It'd be like when you travel with your lightning from one place to another; it’s instantaneous and happens in a blink of an eye, right?”

“Right,” you nod whilst you place your books down. “How come I’ve never tried that before?”

“Try it,” your father insists.

With a newborn eagerness to impress your father before you, you summon lightning and do a quick outfit change, feeling a new surge of happiness within you at this moment. Albeit a small hint of doubt sparked in your brain. You began to stretch and didn’t fail to question what irked you. “Father, are you not busy? I just mean, lately all you’ve done is been with...me.”

Your father walks back to stay at a safe distance from you when you run, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging, “well is it a crime spending time with my only daughter.” He finishes with an almost nervous chuckle. “Anyways stop thinking too much about it and break that record so we can get to teaching you magic.”

You stand up straight and nod apprehensively, getting into a running stance and then looking at him one last time to see him point his head in the way you were going to run. That single gesture sets you off to super speed your way through your usual running coarse, but this time unlike the other using lightning like your father suggested and finding that it gave you an incredible boast. Even the way you saw your surroundings was different, before you would only see the same greenery, the great blue water and beautiful green lush forest; now you saw lightning, it was like traveling through the Bifrost.

And regarding your personal running record, it did wonders to it.

Once you returned to your previous spot you saw your father smiling at you for what seemed to be the first time in ages. “Good job, y/n. You got twenty-five seconds off your previous record!”

At first you’re confused on how to take his positive feedback, his appreciation that you just stare at him dumb-struck and in slight awe. It isn’t until much later do you find your right reaction; you beam at him and utter, “thank you, father.”

——

“Oh, brother. This is it. I take my leave.”

“You fool, you didn’t listen!”

Tears fill your eyes and you wipe away the tears that had already rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lady Sif, get help!”

“Somebody help!”

Yeah, you didn’t really agree with that slight part, Lady Sif was a spectacular warrior and deserved more than that part in the play. But nonetheless it was just play.

“I’m sorry for all I’ve done.”

“Shh. It’s all right. Hold on.”

“I’m sorry I tried to rule earth.”

“They’d be lucky to have you.”

“I’m sorry about that thing with the Tesseract. I just couldn’t help myself. I'm a trickster.”

“Yes. So mischievous.”

“I’m sorry about that time I turned you into a frog.”

You yawn and lean back in your seat, grabbing a piece of fruit and throwing it in your mouth as you continue to watch the play, crying one last time when fake Thor cries out, after that you grew bored and watched as the play ended. Once it was you jumped to your feet to attempt to leave, but then at your side you saw the real Thor.

When he noticed that you saw him, he smiled and waved and you followed by speeding towards him, instantly getting welcomed by a hug. “Hello, sister.”

“Thor! You’re finally back!” You beamed up at him.

“Yes, for a more permanent stay this time.” He informed you as you parted away, drifting his gaze to your father now. “Father.”

“Uh, my son, Thor, has returned!” Your father announced, “greetings my boy.”

The crowd around clapped and Thor seemed to be unamused by this whole ordeal. “This is an interesting play, what's it called?”

“The tragedy of Loki of Asgard. The people wanted to commemorate him.”

That’s very doubtful, considering what he did.

“Ah, indeed they should. I like the statue. A lot better looking then he was when he was alive, though. A little less weaselly, less greasy, maybe.” Thor continued making your father laugh nervously and made you just look at him amused and confused. “Do you know what this is?” Thor asked as he lifted the huge Skull in his hand.

“The skull of Surtur. That’s a formidable weapon!”

Thor proceeds to hand the skull to a guard, “do me a favor. Lock this away in a vault so it doesn’t turn into a giant monster and destroy the whole planet.” Thor walks forward and gestures you to follow him.

“Thank you, dear. Um, so it’s back to Midgard for you, is it?” Your father questioned Thor, gaining your full unwavered attention even if he had answered that to you already.

“Nope.” Thor answered as he threw his hammer up and then caught it with ease. “You know I’ve been having this reoccurring dream lately. Every night, I see Asgard fall into ruins.”

“That’s just a silly dream,” your father turned Thor down, “signs of an overactive imagination.”

“Possibly.” Thor quipped, “but then I decided to go out there and investigate. And what do I find, but the nine Realms completely in chaos.” Thor repeats his previous action with his hammer and gets closer to your father. “Enemies of Asgard assembling, plotting our demise all while you, Odin, the protector of those Nine Realms are sitting here in your bathrobe, eating grapes.”

When you look at your father you notice that he appears quite nervous, it was strange, very strange, but considersing that Thor wasn’t amused and appeared threatening, you stayed silent.

“Yes, it is best to respect our neighbors’ freedom.”

“Yes, of course the freedom to be massacred.” Thor throws his hammer forward, frightening the crowd and puzzling you even more.

“Yes,” your father tries to excuse himself and his negligence, “besides I’ve been rather busy myself.”

“Watching theater.” Thor remarks.

“Well, raising a teenage daughter, board meetings and security council meetings.”

“You’re really going to make me do it?” Thor quips, receiving just a simple question from your father before Thor throws his hammer far and walks behind your father, to threaten him. “You know nothing will stop Mjolnir, as it returns to my hand. Not even your face.”

“Thor!” You call frighteningly, receiving a quick smug answer.

“Watch this, sister.”

“You’ve gone quite mad. Y/N, stop him. You’ll be executed for this.”

“Then I’ll see you on the other side, brother.”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in your spot, keeping your gaze stuck on the pair beside you and gasping as your father transforms into Loki.

“But,” you try to question through your confusion, “but…” you pause and Loki turns to you, trying to approach you as you stay frozen and in disbelief with tears filling your eyes. “You...lied.”

“Y/N, I can explain.”

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good Guest, 12

Gabriel getting his rescue arc <3

CW: Held captive, conditioned whumpee, manipulation, *inhales *parental creepy possessive overprotective intimate whumper, rescuing whumpee, drugging implied

masterlist

The day finally came; the day he was dreading. 

That morning Gabriel awoke to a new pair of clothes on a hanger strung from his doorknob waiting for him. It was a navy blue shirt, soft black jacket and dark jeans, the outfit Walter loved on him the most.

He had them washed and ironed just for today, the day his sister came just so he could show him off. He shuttered at the thought as he roughly tugged the shirt over his head. Hopefully, his sister wasn’t as monstrous as Walter was...

Right?

He nervously crept into the kitchen, Walter was cooking and baking like a madman. 

“Son!” He cheered when he noticed Gabriel. He shied away, but his arm was quickly grabbed as he was pulled over to the large chipped rusted mirror. Walter took both his shoulders and pushed him down onto the stool, mercessly running a brush through his hair.

He was normally very gentle with the brush, but he wasn’t today. He bit his lip with every rough stroke until he quietly whimpered “You’re hurting me...”

“Sshshh, now now, be tough. I want you to look perfect today.” Walter smiled, pressing the cold palm of his hand against Gabriel’s chin to tilt his head up to look at himself in the mirror.

“Just look at you, so young, so sweet. You look wonderful, son.” He smiled, stroking his fingers through his hair once last time with a kiss. Gabriel tensed and cringed, but didn’t dare pull himself away.

I'm not your son.

“We’ve got an hour, be on your best behavior, mmkay?” His arms wrapped around his chest as he rested his chin on his head with a smile.

“Yes sir..“ He shook with a murmur. 

Walter set the kettle while Gabriel nervously paced around the kitchen. He tried desperately to control his trembling legs, taking deep breaths and walking slowly, but his terror only grew with every minute that ticked away. 

“Don’t be nervous, dove. I’m probably more nervous than you! I haven't seen my baby sister in ten years.” Walter chuckled.

I doubt that.... You’re safe and life isn’t on the line...

There was a knock on the old wooden door as Gabriel froze. Walter practically jumped for the door with excitement. 

Life was moving in slow motion, he could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his legs threatened to give away.

Please... Leave me be... Don’t hurt me...

“Come, Gabriel!” Walter had snapped, but his voice sounded far and distorted.

‘I can’t do this’ Gabriel rasped beneath his breath. His hands fumbled for the doorknob to the basement, unlatching the cold iron lock. He curled up in his usual “timeout” corner on the cold floor as he draped his body over a forgotten rolled up rug. 

He hid his face in his arms as he let his sleeves soak up his tears. He would rather be left alone down here, then up there. Soon, angry stomps stormed down the stairs as Gabriel shrunk further into the darkness. 

“Gabriel! What on earth do you think you’re doing down here!? Get up!” He snapped.

“No!” Gabriel shouted, poking his head up just enough to see him.

“Let me stay down here, please! I’ll stay here as long as it takes to make you happy!” He cried.

Walter’s face fell from anger to concern as he knelt by his side.

“Gabriel, what are you talking about?” He asked. He let out a sigh as he thumbed away his tears. “You’re not in any trouble, this isn’t a trick, this isn’t a test. This is family coming to see you.” He smiled. 

He should have seen this coming, his dove was just too fragile for something so sudden. It was his own fault for not easing him into a big change. He was so small and helpless. He should have done a better job at caring for him.

"Just... Come meet her? Please? For me?” He gave his best innocent face as Gabriel sniffled, slowly nodding his head

“Atta boy.” He grunted, wrapping his arms around him to pull him to his feet. “Try to behave. And smile.” He encouraged, leading him up the stairs as Gabriel clung to him by his coat.

-

Malady’s eyes scanned the old living room. It was well kept at least, not a speck of dust nor stain. There were odd metal loops embedded into the floors and walls but nothing attached to them, just an old rusted metal loop.

How odd.

She heard muttering and shuffling coming from the basement, Walter had just said Gabriel was being shy and ran off to go collect him.

Even more odd.

She shook her head while shaming herself, she shouldn’t always think of the worst of him. She had painted him as a monster in her head all these years, she was here to give him a second chance. 

She plastered a sweet smile on her face when Walter finally returned, a figure hiding behind him.

“I’m so sorry for the wait! He’s not used to guests. Come on out now, Gabriel. I really want you to meet my sister.” He coaxed. 

Gabriel slowly came out from under Walter’s arm, looking up at her with nervous eyes. She couldn’t control her smile as it slowly faded into shock.

“He’s-..”

“Adorable, isn’t he?” Walter cooed.

“I-... That’s not what I was going to-...” She was at a loss of words. 

He was an adult. A clearly broken traumatized conditioned adult. 

“Come! Sit down, I made dinner!” He cheered as Gabriel flinched and hid back behind him.

“Right, of course!” Her expression instantly turned soft again.

The table was set beautifully, filled to the edge with an assortment of all the food groups and dessert. They settled at the table as Walter’s eyes darted down at her shoulder brace.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Good! Good, I got engaged last month.” She smiled proudly, flaunting the small ring on her finger.

“What!? That’s amazing!” He cheered, Gabriel shrunk lower in his seat at his sudden raised tone. “Ugh, whoever they are must be truly lucky. I’m sad I didn’t get to interrogate them to see if they were worthy.” He chuckled.

“So I uh... I got a hint of what happened to your shoulder.” He motioned. Malady sighed as she rested her arm on the table.

“Faulty parachute, combat medic training.” She sighed, weakly twitching the fingers of her right arm. She still wore the dog tag from the military, even though it had been three years.

“Enough about me, I want to know all about you two!” She smiled, resting her chin on her folded hands. “How’d you find him?” 

“He um... It’s a funny story.” Walter chuckled. “Gabriel was in a car crash and I took the liberty of taking him in! Didn’t have anyone else so he ended up staying for longer and longer, then we made it permanent!”

That’s a lie.

“Oh! Is that right, Gabriel?” Malady’s eyes darted to him as he shot with posture.

Two pairs of eyes burned into his skull, desperately awaiting his answer. Sweat beamed on his brow as his eyes fearfully darted between the two.

“Yes mam, that’s right.” He mumbled.

Walter smiled proudly, Malady only looked more skeptical.

“You weren’t hurt too badly I hope?”

Before Gabriel could answer, Walter spoke for him. “He was fine! A busted lip is all.” He quickly interrupted. Gabriel’s mouth slowly shut.

“Huh.” She murmured, glaring at her brother. 

“And where did you come from, Gabriel? You must have had a life before, right?”

“He hardly had anything! He was like a lost puppy wandering the streets.” He answered for him again. Gabriel’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.

That was a lie.

“Is that so... Well then, how kind of you to take him in, Walter.” She smiled.

That was... A lie?

She lied to me.

No one can lie to me.

“My dear! The tea is ready.” He smiled, abruptly standing up to grab the kettle. He set the golden pearly teacup full of steaming tea in front of her. “Wait... This-” She lifted the teacup, studying it until she found her initials engraved into the base.

“It was your old one, the one you left at my place, ten years ago.” He smiled.

“That’s right...” She murmured, pausing for a moment. 

“Anyway, as much as I'd love a tea, it’s far too late in the day for me, thank you though.” She smiled, pushing the cup away from her. “Keep the cup.” She winked. 

Walter’s face fell, twisting with disappointment... Disgust

Why didn’t she drink it?

She knows.

Doesn’t she?

“It’s the finest tea! I remembered how to make it just the way you like it. Really, you should give it a sip.” He smiled, his hand aggressively sliding it back to her.

“And I’m sure it’s divine! But I would really like to sleep tonight.” She challenged, sliding it back like a game of opposite tug-of-war between siblings.

“How about some herbal tea then! I can make a fresh batch.”

“I have a thermostat waiting for me in the car.”

“DAMMIT!” He finally snapped, grabbing the tiny teacup and smashing it on the floor as Gabriel let out a frightened yelp. 

In an instant, Walter grabbed the meat tenderizer sitting on the counter as he charged her. Her left arm shot out, catching his wrist in mid swing as she wrenched his arm to the side, throwing him against the wall as the tool fell from his hands. 

Gabriel bolted from the chair, knocking it over with a loud *bang* which scared him further as he locked himself in his room. Malady watched him sadly, but was relieved he wasn’t here to watch the rest.

“I know what you did.” She hissed, crouching down to his level as Walter trembled on his knees trying to get back to his feet. “I knew you hadn’t changed... But I... I had hope, Walter. I had hoped you got better. I’m sad to see I was wrong.” She sighed.

“Y-you...” He spat. “Yo-you can’t take him f-from me...” He growled as he glared up at her. 

“Yes I can.” 

"And I will."

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry  @whump-it @kixngiggles @as-a-matter-of-whump  @five-fictions-5-9 @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @thelazywitchphotographer  @sophierose002 @happy-whumper @cowboy-anon

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

You’re Here

Pairing: sirius x fem!reader

Summary: it’s sirius’ birthday, so the reader decides to finally confess their feelings.

a/n: eeeeee I’m back!! Sorry it was such a long break, I can’t promise this is a permanent return but it’s Sirius’ birthday today so I had to do a special fic for him xx hope you enjoy!!

wordcount: 2k

…

He sat in front of the fire, the warm glow from the dying flames flickering on his face, in a way that could easily enchant anybody who happened to be watching the scene. In fact, it already had. y/n was sat on the sofa, pretending to be engaged in the conversation happening around her as she couldn’t help but let her eyesight drift back to the raven haired boy sat in front of her. She’d noticed this starting to happen in their fifth year, and despite knowing what it meant and trying to push the feelings away, here she was in her last year of Hogwarts, still hopelessly in love with her best friend.

“Well, I think I’m going to head upstairs.” His soft voice entered the conversation, as he stretched and dragged himself off the floor, sleep clearly weighing his eyes down. The group of friends all wished him a goodnight and a brief silence settled over the common room as he left, leaving the group of four friends to sit with their thoughts for a second.

y/n sat with her knees pulled up, thinking of her friendship with Sirius, how close they had always been. She’d been part of the Marauders since that first day on the train, and had always loved the four of them, but she couldn’t help the pull she had to Sirius. Maybe how it was despite everything he’d been through with his family, he was never scared to be vulnerable around her. Maybe it was how no matter how many girls he kissed, he would save his brightest smiles for her, and would (and had) drop any of them the second she had said she needed him, no matter how insignificant an outsider might have thought the reason to be. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she felt her cheeks warming, a combination of the warmth from the fire and the warmth from her heart. However, when a voice finally broke through the silence, embarrassment won over, heating her cheeks more than anything had so far.

“Merlin, y/n, you look like a lost puppy. Can you both please just admit your feelings to each other so we can get past this.” She glared at James between her fingers, throwing a pillow with deadly aim, smirking as he squeaked in surprise. “I do mean it though, there’s nothing to lose.”

“He does talk about you constantly. It’s rather sweet, if you forget how annoying it is.” Remus piped up, putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “You both know how the other feels, you’re just too scared to say it out loud, in case you cross a line you can’t go back on.”

“And this middle ground won’t stop things from going south, if you never talk about it.” Peter added as the boys began to collect their things, clearly going to join their dormmate and retire for the evening. As they all said their goodnights, y/n sat alone thinking over their words, a plan forming in her mind as she glanced out the window at the glistening October sky.

…

She sat at her desk, November 2nd, folding the parchment once the ink had dried, sealing it and carefully writing his name on the front. She waited in the common room, heart racing as the fire died beside her, up much later than was healthy, but determined, the anxiety helping to keep her awake as she waited for the elves. Finally they came, and with a kind smile and a little pleading, they promised to take the letter from her and leave it and the end of Sirius’ bed, amongst the pile of presents that was undoubtedly there for when he woke up. She smiled to herself, glad that so far everything had seemed to go smoothly, and went back to her dorm to try and sleep, feeling finally that good things were on their way.

Sirius woke up to the cheers and whoops of the boys, singing a badly harmonised happy birthday tune. He laughed, sitting up and reaching to start opening his presents, knowing the harassment would only end when he had done so. He spotted a letter with his name on it in familiar handwriting, one for sure he knew hadn’t been there when he had gone to sleep the night before, and quickly slipped it under his pillow, deciding to read it when the boys weren’t watching his every move. He flew through the present opening, and soon enough his three friends were preoccupied in getting ready for their classes, giving him the spare few minutes he needed to inspect his most interesting present of all. He carefully unfolded the letter, his heart rate picking up as he spotted y/n’s handwriting and how carefully it had been written, free from the usual scribbles and splotches he saw when she wrote.

Siri,

Happy birthday, love, I know you were worried about today, with it being the first birthday since you moved in with the Potter’s, but today’s about you, and your real family are all here to celebrate with you, and for you, as you turn seventeen and start to think about life past graduation (with all of us by your side, of course). I know this is a slightly unconventional present, and I would appreciate it if you kept this a bit of a secret for the boys, for now at least.

I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. You’ve faced more than I could ever imagine and had to grow up so fast, but you’ve always been unwaveringly loyal to your friends, considerate and kind throughout it all, truly striving to become the opposite of who you were raised to be. I’m so, so, glad that you took my hand that day on the platform, bringing me into your carriage on the train. I couldn’t picture a life without you, and sometimes I forget just how insanely lucky I am to have you around. Believe that, because I know you’re feeling sceptical right now, but I mean it. You’re phenomenal in every way.

Y/n sat at the table in the great hall, eating a pancake and sipping on her tea trying to push down her nerves waiting for the marauders to come and join her as they did every morning. Hopefully, Sirius would have read the letter by now, and she could have some closure either way. Preferably not one way, though. She heard them before she saw them, the loud laughs bouncing through the Entrance Hall, recognisable to anyone in the school. Despite her nerves, she couldn’t help but smile as they walked in, enthusiastically waving to her as they walked over, sitting down in their usual seats. Some of the tension dropped from her shoulders as Sirius sat next to her, gracing her with a smile.

“Happy birthday, Siri.” She smiled, heart catching as his fingers grazed hers under the table. Was it intentional? “Get any nice presents this morning?” She hinted, hoping she could keep up the façade if everything crumbled around her. To her glee, his smile stretched a little wider, a glint in his eye she knew, one that meant he was keeping a secret. Luckily, she was in on it too.

“Couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He smiled, staring straight at her, winking quickly before turning away and filling his plate up with food. She grabbed his hand more firmly under the table, feeling her confidence grow even more when he squeezed it back. She smiled down at her plate, barely believing this could be happening. The rest of breakfast passed in a blur and soon they were heading their separate ways to classes. With one last birthday wish, y/n and Sirius were dragged away from each other, more reluctant than ever before to be anywhere but at each other’s side.

I also wanted to thank you. You’ve never failed to be there for me, whenever I’ve needed you, without having to say a thing. You make me laugh impossibly hard, to the point where I can’t breath and my sides hurt almost constantly. You have a way of twisting anything into something positive and you truly make me believe you when you tell me that things will work out okay. I think in part, I believe they will be okay, because it’s you. With you, everything is okay. In fact, okay is a major understatement. With you, everything is perfect and right.

After dinner, an hour full of more stolen glances and secret hand-holding, y/n had urged the boys upstairs while she carried onto the seventh floor, pacing in front of the tapestry until a door appeared. She walked across the room lightly, trying to focus as she decorated but her thoughts kept drifting back to a certain man, and even though she was fairly sure of the outcome, she couldn’t help but keep the nerves at bay.

You’ve always been the best of friends to me Siri. But if I’m being honest, for a long time now you’ve also been so much more than that. When I’m with you I can feel truly safe, like no matter what happens it can’t touch me because you’re there and you dull everything else. I would be lying if I said I was indifferent to your charms. You’re utterly gorgeous, and my heart flutters when you give me that brilliant smile, the one that I know you save just for me, the one that makes me fall a little harder every time I see it. Your touch is electric, nothing else can be simultaneously so adrenaline-sparking and so comforting. I love the fact that you learned to braid hair for me now that Lily’s all busy with James. Sirius, I love you.

And unless I’m horribly mistaken, I think you love me too. Our friends seem to think so. So tonight, I’ll be in the Room of Requirement with some music, waiting for a dance. If you don’t show, I completely understand, and I won’t bring this up again. But if you feel the same, I hope this was a good enough birthday present for you to.

Yours, if you’ll have me,

Y/n

She finished lighting the last candle, hearing the door handle turn behind her, and the soft creek of the old door opening. She turned, seeing him stood there, the letter in his hand, usual confident aura gone in favour of one that was utterly relaxed. Her face broke out into a breath-taking grin and she bounced forward the few steps that it took to close the gap, straight into his open arms.

“You’re here.” She breathed, finally feeling all the tension and the nerves leave as she admired him, eyes searching his for any trace of doubt and finding none.

“Of course I’m here, there’s no where else I’d want to be.” He smiled, stuttering her heart. “Thank you for the letter, I’ll cherish it forever.” His hand moved to cup her jaw, as the other stayed circled around her waist. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him, completely enthralled in the moment, lost in him. The record playing softly changed to a new tune, and Sirius slowly began to sway the two of them, moving ever so minimally to the beat of the music, neither able to look away from the other.

“I’ll write more.” She broke the silence, “I’ll write them forever as long as you enjoy them. I’ll give you everything I can.”

“I only need your heart. That’s already more than I could imagine.”

“It’s been yours for a long time. Keep it, I like the way you love it.”

“I do,” he breathed out, watching her eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion. “I love it. I love you, y/n.”

He leaned in closer, seeming to hesitate for a moment, looking into her eyes, seeming to ask permission. She nodded, maybe too eagerly, eliciting a laugh from him as her eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to hers, slowly and softly moving together before they broke apart again.

“Happy birthday, love.” She smiled, leaning in again as the dance was all but forgotten.

[steampunkserpent27]

Occipital

CW: Angst, attack that leads to, severe injury, permanent disability, Angst w bad ending, hospital setting, temporary confusion Harry leaned forwards against his broomstick, waiting for the match to begin. He had decided to join the Quidditch team again after the war ended. There were so few things that still gave him joy and he missed the thrill of flying.  Today he was playing against the Slytherin team. It was the second match of the season. He knew Draco was watching him from the bleachers. He had refused to try out for the team, saying that no one would want to play with or against a death eater.  Suddenly the balls were released and the match had begun. Harry lingered near the edge of the pitch keeping an eye out for the Golden Snitch. For the most part he ignored the other players.  A flash of gold caught his eye and he shot off after it. Exhilaration filled his chest as he streaked through the air, wind ruffling his messy hair. The Snitch dove downwards in a playful spiral so Harry changed course to follow it. Diving after the Snitch the wind filled his ears and pushed against him as he descended rapidly.  A loud whistling hum suddenly filled the air and before Harry could even turn his head to look a heavy force slammed into the back of his skull. Searing pain shot from the base of his head towards his eyes and a loud crack filled his ears.  And then it was all gone.  -      -        -         -         -        -          -          -          -         -          -        -       - A persistent ringing filled his ears as he woke. His head throbbed with every beat of his heart and a quiet groan escaped his lips.  He didn’t dare open his eyes. He could scarcely imagine what the bright light would do to his headache.  Someone shifted next to him and he felt cold fingers brush along his flushed arms. Slowly he opened his fingers and grasped for the hand he so desperately wanted to hold. Without a moments hesitation the cool skin appeared and squeezed his hand gently.  Harry didn’t have the faintest idea of what happened. The last thing he remembered he’d been getting dressed for his Quidditch match. So why did he feel like his skull had been cracked open.  His hand was slowly lifted and warm lips were pressed against his knuckles as the cool skin grasped his hand tightly. After a moment the lips were removed (to Harry’s disappointment) and a soft but thick voice whispered next to him,” You scared me so badly.”  Even as quiet and gentle as the voice was it still sent sharp stabbing pain throughout his head and he winced.  But still, he wanted to hear that comforting voice again. He needed it. It made him feel safe and warm. He shakily raised his free arm to try and get the voice to start talking again. Only it didn’t. A gentle hand took his other arm and held onto it as well.  This wasn’t what Harry had intended but it was nice too. It made him feel grounded, it kept him from floating away.  The warm embrace of sleep was tugging at him and he found he didn’t have the strength to fight it for long. He just hoped the cool hands would be there when he woke.  -    -     -     -     -    -    -    -     -     -     -    -    -    -     -     -     -    -    -    -     -     -     - When Harry woke again his brain was slightly clearer than before. Although he still wasn’t sure what had happened he knew he must be in the hospital wing. He still didn’t remember playing Qudditch but he knew he must’ve. Something must’ve happened on the pitch that landed him in the hospital wing.  Harry wondered how long he’d been out for. He hoped it’d only been a few hours. Suddenly he remembered the cool hands which he now knew belonged to Draco.  Was Draco still waiting by him?  He opened his mouth and whispered,” Dr-”  He cut off and let out a gasp of pain as the pounding increased into rattling explosions that shook him to the core.  A chair shifted beside him as someone got to their feet and hurried to his bed. A soft cool hand rested across his forehead and he let out a sigh of relief. The cold skin felt so nice against his hot clammy face. The pounding subsided slightly and he leaned into his hand further.  The sound of liquid being poured caught his attention. Footsteps approached and the familiar voice of Madame Pomfrey filled the air,” Do you think you can swallow a potion? It will help with the pain.”  Her voice wasn’t necessarily loud but it still sent fresh explosions off in his temples.  He nodded slightly not wanting to jostle his head too much.  Hearing Madame Pomfrey approach he opened his mouth and felt the edge of a vial place against his lips. The liquid was warm and sappy with a sickly sweet after taste. He swallowed and hated how much he shook as he did.  At least he hadn’t choked.  A soft tingling sensation started at the base of his head and quickly spread towards his temples and into his eyes. It was an odd feeling but it was significantly preferred to the throbbing pain.  After a moment he hesitantly tried to speak,” W-what happened?”  It still stung but it was manageable. He was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.  It was Draco who spoke this time,” A bludger hit you in the back of the head.”  Harry swallowed and spoke again,” H-how?”  Draco took his hand and caressed it gently,” Someone.. Someone sent it after you. We don’t know who yet.”  Harry shook his head. Why? Why would someone attack him like that? He couldn’t think of anyone who hated him so much. Not anymore at least.  Mrs. Pomfrey walked around the length of his bed,” I was able to mend the fracture to your skull when you arrived here. Can you tell me the last thing you remember before you were brought here?”  Harry took a shaky breath. Skull fracture?  “I.. I was getting ready for Quidditch.” He gasped out after a moment of pause.  “Alright. Can you feel this?” She asked.  Harry felt her poke his thigh,” Yeah.”  She moved down his legs until she reached his feet. Once she was convinced he hadn’t lost mobility of his legs she sat down next to his head.  “There is significant damage to your occipital lobe. I can mend bones and muscles easy enough but your brain is entirely different. It is a sponge of information that grows and learns as you age. I can’t just fix that with a spell. Can you open your eyes for me?”  Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had brain damage? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He felt fine. He understood what was going on. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d beaten Voldemort he was supposed to not be in danger anymore.  After everything she said fully registered he nodded shakily. Of course he could open his eyes. He was fine. There was nothing wrong with him. She was wrong. She had to be wrong.  He repeated the simple action he’d done a million times before. He opened his eyes.  A terrified whimper escaped his lips and he froze up in horror. Everything was still black. His eyes were open but everything was dark. He couldn’t see.  Draco grabbed onto Harry’s hands,” Harry?” He breathed out. He sounded scared.  Harry flicked his eyes in the direction of Draco’s voice. Was he even looking at him or was he looking over his shoulder?  Oh god. He was blind.  He fought to even out his frantic breathing and eventually gasped out,” I can’t see.”  He hated how scared his own voice sounded.  Draco gasped his breath catching in his throat.  He wanted to disappear. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to go back to sleep and wake up and go back to how things were.  This was just a bad dream. It had to be. He just had to wake up.  But he couldn’t wake up.  Deep down he knew this was real. All of it.  His sight was gone.  And his future with it. 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Noise

It was the ever incredible and wonderful @minky-for-short's birthday yesterday so I wrote her this fic! Thanks for being such a good friend and also for coming up with this brilliant Artist AU for Thanatos and Zagreus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Thanatos wasn’t used to coming home to a quiet house.

When he was younger, he’d always walked in from school or training classes to the racket of a house full of his siblings. There would always be someone yelling, someone arguing, something crashing to the floor, a handful of brothers and sisters sprinting past. And something inside him would sink under the weight of it.

Even for the size of the house of Nyx, there were very few quiet places, driving Than up onto the roof if he actually wanted some peace after a long day. But then there would be Zagreus, on the good days, sitting beside him and telling some story to cheer him up when he could see Than was tired and getting run down. He was there waving his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked across the spine of the rooftop, eyes bright and wild and full. There was all the life and joy inside him bursting out as noise the way, later in life, it would burst out in his art.

Was it any wonder Than had fallen in love with him? He was the only kind of noise that had filled him up rather than worn him down.

And then he’d moved out but you’d really be surprised how much noise Sleep Incarnate could make when it was just the two of you sharing a cramped dorm room. And when your boyfriend was over half the time, bumping his elbows on everything and playing his guitar very badly as you tried to study, making you laugh, or sketching you as you typed an essay and throwing balls of paper at you when you moved and changed the light.

And you’d smile and you’d realise this was the man you were going to marry.

Now they had their brownstone, perfectly placed between Thanatos’ office and Zag’s studio and there was more noise contained in those walls than the mansion and that little dorm room combined. At first it was music, bright, cheesy music blasting as they unpacked all of those boxes and fit their two lives together for good. It was Zag singing in the shower on a morning, it was Than clattering pots and pans as he recreated his favourite recipes of his mothers, pared down for just the two of them. It was Cerberus barking at the birds on the fire escape or whining and kicking in his sleep, sprawled out across the sofa Than had definitely asked he not be allowed on.

And then Theodora happened. When neither of them had been looking, their bright, beautiful baby girl had come into their lives with one green eye and one gold one and all of her daddy’s spark and her papa’s brains and if Than had thought his life was noisy before, he was a fool.

But his life felt fuller than it ever had.

So when Thanatos walked through the door that evening, he immediately froze, overwhelmed with the sensation that something was very wrong. Because his house was silent.

Frowning, he hung his keys on the hook and shrugged out the heavy black coat he’d been sweating in for the last few days of warm weather. He’d had meetings with potential clients all over the place today and it felt like each one had required at least a block’s worth of walking. Of course he could just have taken the heavy thing off, as Zag often suggested, but he didn’t feel quite right without it. But drowning in sweat or not, he’d sold three of his husband's paintings today and he really felt like it warranted at least a welcome home kiss from said husband, followed by his daughter hauling herself onto her wobbly little baby legs, begging him to pick her up. And any other day, he’d have that wall of noise washing over him, loud and comforting and familiar.

So where were they?

The living room was eerily silent too, Theo’s toys lying in boneless patience for the next time she came along to play with them, the radio normally permanently tuned to Zag’s favourite station voiceless. Than frowned, the sense of disquiet getting a firmer grip on him as he passed through into the kitchen. The pots from breakfast were still in the sink, the dregs of Than’s coffee he’d hurriedly downed on the way to his office now ice cold sludge in the bottom of his favourite mug. Normally he’d be coming home to Zag attempting to cook dinner, it was his job to calmly survey the knife edge of disaster it was balancing on and diplomatically extract his husband from the stove so he could turn it into something edible. It was the thought that counted. But there wasn’t so much as a pot of tea brewing, the normally warm and raucous room cold and still.

Than’s frown deepened and he looked for a note, something to explain they’d gone to the store or the park, Zag often scrawled something on the back of an invitation to the latest gallery showing or letter asking for him to submit some work and stuck it onto the fridge. Thanatos had rescued commission requests worth thousands from the front of their fridge before, still valuable even with a request for eggs and milk scribbled on the back.

But he couldn’t see anything. The fridge only held a now week old reassurance that Zag had picked Theo up from his parents’ and taken her to get ice cream. Not much comfort to Thanatos, his heartbeat now increasing significantly.

Zagreus never left him worrying like this, he knew his husband's anxiety was only ever waiting for the slightest little nudge to topple over into overdrive. Hands starting to tremble now, he groped for his phone in his pocket, unsure whether to first dial Zag, his mother or the National Guard.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to work that out because just as he was about to yank his phone free, he heard a noise from behind the back door, something muffled coming from their tiny little walled garden. Laughter. Two kinds of laughter and he knew both of them well.

Relief settling over him, Than tried not to look like he’d been panicking that much as he pushed the door back and walked into the golden late afternoon sunlight. Their little yard wasn’t much, just a square of concrete tiles, but the borders were overflowing with greenery and flowers in sheer defiance to the lack of soil, all thanks to Than’s mother in law. In was in the sparse shades of these towering grasses and flowering vines that Zag and Theo were giggling. They were both grinning the same crooked grin, both pairs of eyes alight with that same joy.

And they were both covered in paint.

“Good evening,” Than found himself smiling too, before he even really knew why, “And what are we up to exactly?”

If Than was still a little miffed at his lack of a welcome home, it was quickly made up for when both his husband and daughter gave unison cries of delight and rushed towards him.

“Than!”

“Papa!”

Than laughed, bracing himself so he wasn’t completely knocked off his feet by their hugs, wrapping his arms around them. He accepted a lingering kiss from Zag before Theo loudly interrupted it with a retching noise, tugging on the bottom of his coat and demanding his attention.

“You gross!” she declared loudly, “Daddies gross!”

“Oh are we now?” Than chuckled, scooping her up and covering her pudgy little face in kisses until she squealed, “Is this gross?”

“No but your shirt might be going that way,” Zag grimaced apologetically, noticing the paint smearing from Theo onto her papa, “Sorry.”

Than glanced down, eyebrows raising, “Ah. And why exactly is my daughter covered in paint? I know a small amount is normal but this rather looks like she’s been rolling in it.”

Zag’s face brightened, “You’re not far off! I had this incredible idea, you see…”

“One that involved an awful lot of mess?” Than’s smile quirked fondly.

“All my best ideas do,” Zag winked over his shoulder before stepping to one side so Than could see the large roll of paper spread out across the ground.

Already it was filled with multicoloured smears and a few handprints, some footprints too, a cacophony of shape and colour. There were a few in different palettes hanging and drying on the back wall in the sun.

“You see, little Teddy’s going to be my new collaborator!” Zag spread his arms grandly over their work, “She starts them off and she can use whatever she feels like, just really moves with the energy of it all, y’know? Then I come in and tie it all together! She’s a phenomenal abstract artist!”

Than looked over the paintings they’d made together. Part of why he was such a good art dealer and such a good agent for Zagreus was that he found more to love in his work than anyone and he was good at making others see it too as he sold it to them. His love for the man spilled into the art, in the shapes and colours and textures he saw the person he’d loved since he was a kid. It was like Zag’s art spoke a language Thanatos was fluent in.

And looking at this art, the art Zag and their daughter had made together, it took his breath away. It was familiar and it was new all at once, it was bright and joyful as the two of them clashed and flowed together in the paint. If he looked long enough he could start to see what was Theo simply having fun splashing around in the colourful stuff she saw her daddy getting to play with all day and what was Zag fondly stitching her marks into something cohesive, something musical and formed.

And in it Thanatos could see his family. He could see noise.

“What do you think?” Zag’s eager smile had started to dim, his eyes getting a little anxious as he searched his husband’s face, tumbling into a nervous ramble, “I will clean her up, I promise, I put her in clothes she doesn’t love love, y’know? I will get the stains out, I swear and I can wash your shirt too if you want? I’ll use the special stuff that works really good, I mean, you might have to show me how but if there’s instructions I’ll just read those...”

Than took a step closer, careful not to damage the painting, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. As it always did, the touch alone was enough to calm Zag, his nervous stumbling coming to a stop, turning into a self conscious smile.

“Zag, it’s beautiful,” Than murmured gently, moving the hand to brush his cheek affectionately. Fortunately, Theo didn’t deem this unacceptably gross, just pressing her face to Than’s neck and nuzzling contentedly, “It’s really, really beautiful.”

Zag beamed, tilting his head hopefully, “Beautiful enough that you wanna help us make another one?”

Than smiled back, already maneuvering Theo so he could shrug out of his work jacket and let it fall to the floor, Theo giggling and squirming with excitement as she helped him push his sleeves up.

“Well, I’m not a phenomenal abstract artist like you two but it does look like fun…”

The works from this new series would go across the country, thanks to Thanatos. He really was a good agent.

They didn’t sell them, Zag didn’t want them to be sold for money after the initial exhibition. Instead they were donated to art schools and children’s hospital wards and after school clubs. But the one that all three of them had done together, the one with the two sets of bigger handprints in varying shades of red and purple and the flurry of tinier ones, the smudges and smears and bright splashes of eye watering colour, that one stayed firmly where it belonged, hanging in their living room. Over time they would take it down and add to it, especially when they had two more sets of tiny handprints to add to it.

And around it, their house would never, ever be quiet.

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask” Chapter 4 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: The morning after! How awkward could it be when Reader and Dr. Reid meet in the bullpen the next morning? An honest conversation turns smutty and Reader is starting to rethink some decisions.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 3.6k for Chapter 4

Content Warnings: No smut actually happens this chapter, but there is a lot of smutty talk. BDSM themes. Fluff. Tiny bit of angst if you squint.

A/n: This chapter was initially just supposed to be filler, but when I sat down to write it, it became really important to me. The way BDSM dynamics are presented is really important to me, so I wanted to do it justice. The actually femdom kicks off in Chapter 5 😌 (Also, tumblr isn’t letting me tag some people and its slowly driving me insane.)

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text are Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 4 – “Please don’t lie to me.” --

I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen when I got to work the following morning; my mind spun in circles while the elevator slowly brought me to the floor that housed our elite FBI unit. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from straying to last night.

Spencer had fallen asleep with his head in my lap, my fingers moving softly over his scalp, brushing through his curls. I sat there for longer than I wanted to admit, lost in thought. How did I let this happen? I thought over and over again. Did I break my rules because I knew Spencer? I trusted him with my life; I trusted the entire time with my life, I had to. Perhaps that’s why I let him kiss me, let him touch me. I trusted the good doctor in a way I hadn’t trusted anyone I had been intimate with in a long time.

That must be it. I refused to look at it on a deeper level; I couldn’t. I had to keep my feelings in check. I wouldn’t risk my job, my life, my world over unchecked emotions. Not again.

The metal doors slid open; the bullpen was already buzzing with activity at 7:50 in the morning. I usually arrived earlier, but I had stopped for coffee. I reasoned that it was just a treat for myself; not an excuse to avoid the office coffee station, which we all knew was the domain of Dr. Spencer Reid. I hadn’t received any messages from Garcia or Hotch, leading me to assume today was another day of paperwork.

I tried to stop my eyes from searching for him, but it was no use. He was like a magnet for my senses. Most of us typed up our reports and only wrote when we had to, but most of us were not Dr. Reid. He was hunched over, papers scattered over his desk in some pattern of order only he would understand. His pen scribbled quickly over the pages, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration.

It wasn’t until he glanced up suddenly that I became aware of the world around me; someone had said my name, alerting him to my presence. Looking around, I shot Prentiss a smile, her gaze already on my face. “Hi, Em,” I said in greeting.

Her smile confirmed my suspicions that she was the one who had spoken. “Did you do anything fun last night? You didn’t answer my text.”

Who, me? “Oh, nothing much,” I said brightly, placing my bag at my desk, setting my coffee down. “I just did some stuff around the house. I’m sorry I didn’t see your text.” I hadn’t seen her text until hours after she sent it. I was so wrapped up in that man I didn’t even look at my phone. For hours.

One of the wonderful things about SSA Emily Prentiss is that nothing phased her; she had lived a life that was too complicated and dangerous to sweat the small stuff. “Not a problem. Are you doing anything tonight? Garcia is trying to organize a girl’s night.”

I could still feel my boy’s eyes on me. “No, I don’t have any plans. If she asks me, I’ll let you know.” Prentiss scoffed, turning back to her work. We both knew Garcia would ask.

Don’t look, don’t look, I kept repeating to myself; but how could I not? Slowly, my head turned towards him, finding him already staring at me. To anyone else, his face would have appeared blank, but after last night, I knew him better than that. He didn’t have his glasses on today, he wore a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his messy curls hanging in a state of permanent disarray around his face. Calling his eyes brown was doing them an injustice; not quite hazel, they were filled with so many tiny shards of color, giving them a depth I had never noticed before last night.

No, his face wasn’t blank; his face was filled with uncertainty. When he eventually woke up last night, he lifted his head from my lap quickly, his cheeks red with embarrassment. I hadn’t said anything; I kissed his cheek and walked out of his apartment. My poor nervous, beautiful boy. I offered him a small, soft smile. This didn’t have to change anything. Not if he didn’t want it to.

--

Just because you expect something doesn’t mean you’re ready for it; that’s a lesson I had learned a long time ago that had always held true. I expected Dr. Reid to try and talk to me at some point today. I expected it, but I wasn’t ready when he finally cornered me on my way back to the bullpen from the bathroom. I felt his presence before I saw him; he stepped around the corner, briefly meeting my eyes before he started shuffling awkwardly.

He cleared his throat. “H-hey, y/n. I was…I was hoping that I could talk to you for a minute?”

Still such a nervous boy. I gave him a nod; I knew he needed answers. It wasn’t fair to ignore him just because I was uncomfortable with how I was feeling. I had done this before, Spencer hadn’t. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what Spencer had done before. I turned as he walked past me, following him down the hallway until we reached JJ’s old office. It was filled with old boxes and scattered with case files. It was as private as we were going to get.

I waited for the boy genius to speak first; it might have been cruel, but I really didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know how to begin. How was I supposed to start this conversation when I remembered the noises he made when his cock was in my mouth? When I could still see the desperation in his eyes when he begged me to cum? After I had gone home last night, I lay in my bed until I couldn't resist the urge anymore. I slid my hand into my panties and remembered those sounds, how he looked, as I brought myself to a powerful orgasm.

I had masturbated thinking about Spencer Reid. That probably wasn't as earth-shattering as I was making it out to be, but I didn't do those sorts of things. I didn't do this shit with someone I work with…someone who has some form of power over any part of my life. I wasn't vulnerable; I was never vulnerable.

“Y/n,” his voice cracked on the last letter of my name. “I…I wanted to talk about yesterday.”

“I figured.” I kept my tone light. Despite my complicated feelings about the situation, I really did care about Spencer. I knew that for certain. Seeing him nervous, squirming, and desperate yesterday was one of the sexiest moments of my life. Seeing him nervous, squirming, and desperate today was different; it made my heart squeeze.

He gave me a smile. “I know we didn’t…talk about things before or after. But…I wanted to thank you.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, earning a beautiful flush rising on the apples of his cheeks. “No, not about that,” his voice squeaked out, furthering my amusement. “I meant for staying with me. Last night. You could have left after we were…done. But you didn’t. You knew I needed to be close to you…and you stayed with me.” Dr. Reid finally stopped fidgeting, his words less rushed, but still tinged in nervousness. “No matter what happens after this, that meant a lot to me. So, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for knowing you needed aftercare, Spencer.”

“Yes, I do.” Those three words made my breath stutter. Did he know? Did he know how scared I was? Could he tell how badly I wanted to run from the feelings he brought up in me? Knowing my luck, probably.

“You’re welcome, Pretty Boy.” Spencer smiled at the nickname, but I could tell he wasn’t done. Thanking me wasn’t the only reason he’d pulled me in here. I decided to speak before he got the chance to again. “Can I ask you a question?” When he nodded, I asked what I had wanted to know since the moment I met him. “Are you a virgin, Spencer?”

He must have known it was coming; he tried to keep his face impassive, but I could see the embarrassment in his micro-expressions. "No, y/n. I'm not a virgin…" Not super convincing, Doc. “I’m really not,” he gave a small huff of amusement. “I’ve had sex before…just not a lot.”

There is it. “What is not a lot?”

My boy shifted his weight from foot to foot then. "I had sex for the first time when I was 24, right after I joined the Bureau. I've gone on a few dates since then…It's lead to some…stuff, but it's never gone that far again."

“So, you’ve had sex with one person? Was that a woman or a man?”

“She was a woman.” I loved that he didn’t seem offended at the question. Spencer didn’t put on airs of hypermasculinity; I wonder if he had ever given any thought to his sexuality, or if he just accepted that it was what it was.

“Okay. Have you ever thought about having sex with a man?” This wasn’t relevant, I was just curious.

Spencer licked his lips; I could tell this conversation required a lot of courage from him. "Yes. I've been asked out…I've gone on two dates with men." He smiled when my eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’ve kissed men, but men are…they’re so aggressive. At least the ones I have been interested in.”

“Is aggression bad?”

“No,” he went on quickly. “It’s not, usually. I just…I don’t pick up on cues very well. I didn’t feel…safe with them. I was attracted to them, and I wanted to have sex with them…but I didn’t want to do that unless I felt like the person cared about me.” His voice shook, but his eyes never left mine, even as his fingers began to fidget with the end of his tie. “With you…yesterday, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I knew you’d…you’d stop if I wanted you to. And you made me feel like it was okay.” Fuck, why does he do this to my heart? “You made it feel like exploring my sexuality was okay. With you.”

I took a step towards him then; I couldn’t stop myself. He was the sun, lighting up the entire room, and I was just a mere mortal that wanted to stand in his light. I raised my hand to cup his cheek, gazing up at him; he was so tall, so much taller than me. “Exploring your sexuality is okay, Doc.” My voice was firm, leaving no room for debate. “It’s important to feel safe with the people you explore it with. You should never do something that makes you uncomfortable or with a person that doesn’t care about you. I’m honored that you saw that in me.”

He wanted to kiss me; I knew he did, I could see it in his eyes…but he didn’t. I don’t know if it was because we were at work or because he was afraid that I would reject him. I wouldn’t have. His hand came up to cover my own, pulling it down from his face so he could lace his fingers through mine. Just like my kissing him, it wasn’t lost on me that holding my hand was significant to him.

“I know we didn’t talk about it,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. We work together…but, I like you. I trust you. And…if you wanted- if you’re okay with it…I’d like to explore what we talked about yesterday. With you.”

I knew he would want to. Who wouldn’t want to explore the unknown? Especially a curious man like my Dr. Reid? Despite all of that, my heart couldn’t help but swell at his declaration. I loved being dominant in the bedroom. I found that amount of control arousing beyond belief, and I’d never say otherwise. But there was something about the trust that my submissive put in me that fulfilled a different part of me. To be trusted like this…It was something so important and it triggered a feeling of pride in myself. I was worthy of their trust.

I squeezed his hand. “Okay, Doc.” He looked so fucking hopeful. “We can discuss it. This is the unsexy part of any BDSM dynamic. We have to talk…a lot. Communication is what makes this work.” And I do want this to work, which was terrifying. “I want you to take some time to think about this,” I hurried on when it looked like he’d interrupt me. “You need to do some research, Doc. I want you to look at things and decide what or how you want to proceed. Or if you even want to proceed. If you change your mind, that is okay.” He needs to know that. “Then we can have a discussion and go from there.”

Spencer nodded, seeming more comfortable now that he had a task to focus on. “What about work?”

“That’s an important thing to talk about too. Obviously, we can’t do anything obvious at work. There are cameras everywhere. And we need to focus on cases.” He made a noise of agreement. “We need to talk about what works for us. If you’re open to playing together when we’re on a case in certain settings, like back at our hotel, if you want this to be a monogamous dynamic, signals, safe words, and how we establish when a scene starts.”

His eyebrows were so high I was worried they’d disappear into his hairline. “O-okay.”

I smiled. “Good. Think it over; you know where I’ll be.”

--

Again, just because you expect something doesn't mean you're ready for it. I expected Spencer to want to talk to me again, but I wasn't ready for the text message that popped up on my phone at 6:03 pm.

“I’d like to talk whenever you are free.”

A normal person wouldn’t have been able to do the required research in just 40 minutes, which was the maximum amount of time he could have been home for; but Spencer Reid wasn’t a normal person.

Which is why I text Emily and Garcia some lame excuse about backing out of girl’s night before I told Spencer I was free tonight.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to cancel girl’s night.”

Fucking profilers with eidetic memories. “I’d rather do this. I’ll see you in 20.”

--

I raised my hand to knock on his door but felt myself pause before my knuckles connected to the wood.

What the fuck am I doing? It was a valid question. It wasn’t too late to back out…but it was also far too late to back out. Before my fingers could decide if they wanted to knock or not, the door in question swung open to reveal the curly-headed man that plagued my thoughts.  

He was in the same clothes he wore to work that day, only his tie was missing, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Spencer’s hair always looked like he just woke up, his curls having a mind of their own and he couldn’t be bothered to tame them. They looked different right now; it was like he had been running his hands through his hair.

I offered him a smile. “Hi, Doc.”

“Hi, y/n.” With a smile of his own, he waved an arm, ushering me into the apartment. It didn’t look any different than it had yesterday, not really. It just felt different. I walked over to his couch, just like I had yesterday. I sat on the same cushion, just like I had yesterday. Everything just felt so different.

Spencer sat beside me, just like yesterday. “I feel bad about making you cancel girl’s night.”

“Don’t. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do, Doc.” I pushed my hair behind my ear; a nervous habit I hope he hadn’t picked up on quite yet. “I want to be here.”

“I want you to be here too.”

It’s unprofessional to swoon, y/n. Get it together.

I mentally shook myself. “Right. So, where do you want to start.”

“Why do you hold your submissives at such a distance?” he licked his lips; he was nervous, but his gaze never dropped from mine. “I respect you and your decisions, but I would really like to understand.”  

“…Well, that’s certainly a place to start,” I gave an awkward chuckle. He didn’t return my amusement. My curious boy really wanted to know. “I told you, I got my heart broken. That’s it.”  

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to pressure you,” his voice was so fucking earnest. “I just…I don’t understand. I want to understand. You don’t have to tell me everything, but please don’t lie to me.”

Shame washed over me; I had been stressing how important open and honest communication is and here I am avoiding something because it makes me uncomfortable. This had never been an issue before; none of my previous subs had ever wanted to know. But how could I even explain how embarrassed I was? How stupid I had been? How I gave someone my entire heart when I didn’t even know the kind of person he really was? How could I explain the choices a 22-year-old girl made?

"You're right, Spence," I took a deep breath. "Trust is important. I won't lie to you, but please understand that I'm not comfortable talking about it right now. I've never talked about it with anyone." I reached out for his hand, holding it softly in mine. "It's not that I don't want you, I just…haven't done that with anyone in such a long time."

He didn’t understand, hell, I didn’t even understand, but he accepted what I said…for now, anyway. “Okay,” he squeezed my hand. “We don’t have to do that, and you don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

My mouth couldn’t help but turn up into a smile. This man. “Thank you.” I let go of his hand, clasping both of mine together and putting them in my lap. I wanted to touch him, but I needed him to not feel any pressure from me for the next part of our conversation. “Now, we need to talk about limits and expectations.” He began shifting in his seat. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but this is all part of it. I assume you’ve done some research, so tell me about what interests you and what doesn’t.”

My boy looked so unsure of himself; he was bearing such a vulnerable part of himself to me, and he was frightened. But no matter how afraid he was, my boy was also brave. “I-…I don’t have any real frame of reference. I’d like to experiment with some things before I decide if it’s a hard limit for me or not.” I nodded in an attempt to encourage him. “I don’t want extreme pain. Or things that are…unsanitary.”

I laughed. “I never expected any different.”

Maybe my laugh relaxed him; he didn't seem quite as tense as he went on. "I'd like to…touch you when you allow it. I've never…really done anything with a woman outside of just penetration. I know the basics of how to…I just would like to do those things. With you. If you ever felt comfortable." I'm almost positive I was blushing now. Spencer Reid, Dr. Spencer Reid, the pride of the BAU wanted to do things to please me; and I was tempted to let him. Who would have thought? “You don’t have to decide now…but the moment you feel comfortable, I’m ready.” His eyes ran up and down my body, I could see his throat work when he swallowed. “I’m really ready.”

After a beat, he went on, “Beyond that, I’m interested in being restrained. I like the idea of choking…but I’m nervous about it. The idea of giving up control and following order is what fascinates me. I…I also wanted to tr-try what you mentioned. In Nebraska.”

As I live and breathe. "Spencer, are you asking me to fuck you?" He knew what I meant; I could see it in the way he bit his lip. "Do you want me to tie you to my bed and make you beg for me to fuck your ass?"

He tried to disguise that whimper, but I fucking heard it. “I-I…It’s not uncommon for men to like that sort of stimulation, given that-“

I raised my hand, placing a finger on his lips before I broke my own rules again. I leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his full pink lips. “No shame here, pretty boy. None at all, especially with me.” He watched my mouth move, his posture becoming less tense. “I’d love to fuck you. Pegging a man is something I found arousing, Spencer. The thought of doing it to you turns me on. We can work up to it.”

The smile he gave me was so hesitant and sweet. "Okay." He waited a minute before he went on. "I know that you don't always orgasm with your subs…you don't let them make you cum. I don't want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable, but I really, really want to make you cum." I clenched my thighs together. Jesus fucking Christ. “If you’re comfortable, I’d like for you…for that to be part of what we do together. You’re so beautiful when you cum, y/n. I thought about it last night after you went home. I thought about how you taste…I really want to taste you again.”

Fuck. I really wanted him to taste me again too.

-- 

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[kaminobiwan]

restraint

pairing: commander cody  x  reader

summary: you put Cody in his place. it just so happens to be in a chair. (or, more accurately titled ‘restrained’.)

warnings: a lil spicey, as all my tho(gh)ts about Cody are. sexual tension. the like.

a/n: dedicated to the sweetest person alive, @milliusprime​. happy birthday, shay, I love you :-) loose sequel to repreive, though I changed the reader to gender neutral. perhaps a trilogy in the making? the subtext of sub!cody be strong in this one.

taglist | masterlist | more gender-neutral fics

The next moment you get alone with him takes place on Coruscant.

You’d seen and talked to him a couple of fleeting times while on Geonosis, gotten close enough to see clearly that he hadn’t been too badly injured from the fray at Point Rain — or the mess that had been General Unduli’s rescue mission, for which you had yet to thank him properly for his instrumental role in saving your beloved assigned-Jedi.

You honestly don’t know why you still have a flat on Coruscant, given that most of your time is spent on the Tranquility or various command centers throughout the Outer Rim, but it’s times like these when you’re thankful to have a semblance of home to come back to.

Although, Cody fulfills that feeling better than any apartment ever could.

Gree had made sport of your visible enthusiasm at clocking out, lazing expertly along your desk as you closed out the rest of your tabs on the fifth datapad you’d held that day. His shift had ended hours prior, orienting the newest shinies to fill the ranks that had been lost since last shore leave. You know it’s a bittersweet feeling for him, meeting the replacements for his fallen brothers, so you let him stay whenever he seeks the company of someone who doesn’t share the face of those he’s internally mourning.

Usually that consists of him bothering you with mindless factoids of the newest fauna he’s become fixated on, but today, he’d burdened you with oversharing explicit details of his most recent passion party.

You’re closer than most officers are with their clone commanders, always have been, but your relationship had only strengthened since you’d covered for him the last time the 41st had been on Coruscant. After a rowdy night at 79’s, he’d been AWOL right until the hour before the Corps were scheduled to ship out, and you’d run into him sneaking back into the barracks covered in the bites and scratches of what had looked to be from multiple species, looking all too pleased about it.

That, and the fact that he’d managed to find out your secret relationship with his ori’vod after finding a yellow-painted vambrace in your cot after a late night of gossiping in your quarters on the Venator.

It was to your endless misfortune that Gree was as smart as he was salacious.

Gree was a good secret-keeper, though, and in exchange for not exposing him as a red-blooded slut to your General, he’d sworn to not tell anyone that you were sleeping with the revered Marshal Commander of the 212th. A tit-for-tat arrangement, on top of your friendship forged in the midst of war-borne ridiculousness and erudite pastimes.

“You know,” He’d grinned at you as you’d shrugged on your coat over your officer’s uniform, “if you and Cody ever want to add a couple people into the mix, I’ve got plenty of suggestions.”

You’d laughed — really snorted at the prospect. It wasn’t that you and the commander weren’t looking for ways to spice up your relationship, but you doubted Cody would be open to sharing your bed with one of Gree’s wild and unruly conquests. Far from prude, Cody wasn’t opposed to less than intimate (or perhaps increasingly intimate) situations, but you knew he had a certain preference for such activities.

Your lover was a particular one.

(Of course, you didn’t exactly fit into that specific preference perfectly, but you also liked to consider yourself more than someone who merely shared the sheets with Cody. A permanent exception, of sorts.)

As you’d respectfully declined the offer, he’d roped you into a one-armed hug and a squeeze to your shoulder. You’d bid him goodbye with a pat to his middle, and discreetly pocketed the durasteel rings you’d snagged from his utility belt as you’d separated from his side to hail a speeder home.

You figured Gree could survive without his stun cuffs for the night. It was the least he owed you after dumping images and stories about his sexual escapades you would never unhear.

‘Home’ is only a ways away from the GAR central headquarters, a short ride to the Residential district, and you’re stepping lighter and quicker than usual as you cross the steps to your entrance as the last rays of the sun tickle your exposed skin.

Not two seconds after opening the door, you look up with a start at the sound of muffled crunching by the sink, and surprise morphs into warmth when you realize it’s Cody, slurping quietly from the bowl he always seems to favor whenever he’s over. He shovels another mouthful in as you look on with barely disguised amusement, bantha milk dripping comically from the corner of his mouth. He’d beaten you here.

The initial stupor fades as you share a laugh, forgoing a greeting in favor of a well-placed jab. “So, not only did you stop by Dex’s and not get me anything, but you’ve perused my groceries as well?” He tries and fails to hide his smile behind his spoon, and you get in another verbal poke before he swallows. “Everyone knows Dantooine cereal is served dried for a reason.”

“I prefer it this way,” he mumbles, staring pleasantly at his evening snack. You know as much — Cody’s secretly a picky eater.

You tuck your coat into the fold of your arm before striding forward, wrapping the other one around his neck to pull him down for a sweet and milky kiss. He murmurs something unintelligible against you before reconnecting your mouths, and you hum contentedly as he balances the bowl to better curve downwards. “Hello,” you trill, tongue darting out to clean his lips. “You shower yet?”

He shakes his head, taking a moment to peer unreservedly at your face. His own brightens at your happiness to see him, and your chest swells at the sight. Unlatching from him quickly, you set your things on the table, making sure to slide them inconspicuously out of Cody’s reach. “Was waiting for you,” he rumbles as he kisses your palm.

Good. A thrum of satisfaction vibrates low in your gut as you hum, plastering a front of nonchalance across your features as he revels in the rare opportunity to drink you in. It’s hardly ingenuine, as his presence never fails to wash away the majority of your worries whenever you’re close. Even in the company of other people, which he sometimes seems to be physically allergic to.

You pat his cheek affectionately and watch him lean into your touch. “You tired?” As you inquire again, you reach for his bowl, holding back a retort when he maneuvers it out of your way. You continue speaking to his back as he turns and washes his own dish, always insistent on cleaning up his own messes. “You wanna sit down?”

He makes a noncommittal sound, but sits anyways after he cleans and dries, and you flock to his lap, presence adoring as it relieves him of any remaining stress of the day. You massage his shoulders without prompting, and he gazes up at you sincerely in thanks.

“Should I be asking how you managed to get a breakfast order from the diner at almost dinnertime?” You melt into his hold as his hands wander your back, uncharacteristically free from his combat gloves and armour. He’s down to his blacks, you realize, and a smile crosses your face at how perfectly the situation is falling into place. “Or is that classified information?”

He chuckles lowly, indulging in your lighthearted ridicules with prepotent comebacks of his own. “Maybe Dex just likes me,” he says, an intentional taunt to his voice. “Hermione always lets me order whatever I want.”

At the mention of Dex’s waitress, you bristle slightly, but respond cooly when he raises a challenging brow at you. He doesn’t usually make such insinuations, but it inspires a prickling jealousy despite. You watch the corners of his mouth quirk up when you reply. “Bet there’s a couple things she can’t give you.”

Cody simpers, far too smugly for your liking. “Maybe.”

You kiss him then, deliberate and vigorous, and he lets you, face angling to yours in an instant. He pushes up from the chair, stretching his torso to meet your touch robustly, and you fight off the daze that threatens to consume you after mere instants of his lips under yours. Lifting one eye open, you reach across the table for your coat pocket the same time you push your tongue into Cody’s mouth.

His grip tightens around your waist as you find what you’re looking for, and while he’s distracted by a few more gratuitous moments of clacking of teeth and brushing of tongues, you capture both of his wrists swiftly and secure them to the middle rung of the chair with a distinct snap.

You detach your from Cody as his eyes shoot open, claps holding tight as he wriggles his arms behind the back of his seat. You hold in a snicker at his expression, though by the ease of which you’d distracted him, you almost wonder if he’d purposefully let you lock him there.

“Binders?” 

“Stun cuffs,” you correct, only for the hundredth time. It was an ongoing argument between the two of you.

Cody rolls his eyes as per usual, so far that for a second, you only see the whites of his eyes before he fixes you with a flat stare. “Only COMMOs call them that,” he chides, managing to still sound authoritative even while cuffed beneath you. “I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, well, you’ve told me a lot of things.” You mimic his actions with a snarky look of your own. “I don’t always agree.”

As you shift in his lap, his eyes flash noticeably. The air thickens again in a second, and you feel your hands tighten around his thighs as he flexes the wide, corded appendage below you. You can tell he’s slowly relaxing into the seat, body loosening as he breathes deeper against your chest, but his last grasp at control doesn’t surprise you. Cody always seems to need to feel like every decision is his own, even when he’s backed into a corner — or in this case, strapped to a chair.

The words send sparks down your spine, nevertheless. 

“I like it when you listen.”

A smile spreads slowly across your face, and you lean closer to him, making sure to drag your hips torturously along his crotch before letting the tips of your noses bump briefly. The action draws a near-silent grunt from the man underneath you, and your lips trail lightly along his as he squirms. After tracing a full circle around his mouth with your own, you deprive him of a kiss as he cranes his neck upwards to reach you. Roguishly, your smile spreads slowly into a smirk. “And I like it when you beg.” The sharp intake of breath that comes from him fills you with much more triumph than you let on. “Am I gonna get that, tonight?”

Cody swallows audibly as his honey-glazed gaze flits back and forth between your eyes. He begins to nod, the last shreds of his resistance falling away to the quickly growing lust warming his skin, but you shake your head in disapproval. “I need to know, Cody.” Your arms stretch behind him to tap the cuffs around his wrists, and you feel his fingers extend to grab for you. They fail, for the most part, but he settles on running his thumb along the back of your hand as he stares at you earnestly. “Is this okay?”

It’s a long time before he speaks, but with difficulty, he manages an affirmation. “Yes,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “I want it.”

You almost shriek with glee.

Instead, you opt for a restrained grin as you smooth your palms across the width of his shoulders, his admission igniting a heat in your blood that pulses with every second you caress his broad chest. Like a flame creeping towards gasoline, it grows steadily at the prospect of testing the composure of the most patient soldier you’ve had the pleasure of laying eyes — and lips — on.

Because Cody doesn’t come to you for patience. He comes to you for reprieve.

The racy desire rises faster within you the lower your fingertips dance along his body, catching on the thin fabric of his bodysleeve, and the clothing is thin enough that you can feel his abdomen tighten and constrict as you spread your hands over the plane of muscle. Almost cruelly, you sweep your palms back up, thumbing lightly over his nipples before stopping at his arms, squeezing lightly around his biceps, and Cody twitches in response. It’s then that you decide, with little remorse, that yes, you’re going to play with him today.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, lips gentle along the shell of his ear as you press your body to his. “I didn’t have time to snatch the stun remote.” You nip playfully at his lobe. “Unless you want me to, next time.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond before you descend to his bared neck, skimming your mouth along his pulse point and lightly sucking. You graze his skin occasionally with your teeth, mild lovebites blossoming blue and purple along the dark brown, and Cody releases his first groan of the night as you purse your lips against the base of his throat. Too late, he realizes you’re teasing, and he yanks at his binds as you pull the neckline of his blacks far down enough to mark the juncture of his neck and shoulder, leaving a line of hickeys you know no one else will see but you.

Your fingers spider along his torso, daintily prodding and pinching, and each touch draws a huff or a jump from an increasingly frustrated Cody as they drift across scars and muscle alike. His abs contract deliciously when you ghost below his waistline, but before he can buck his hips for more, your hands are already on his collarbone, barely scratching as you mouth at the spot behind his ear.

When you move along the sharp line of his jaw, pointedly avoiding his puffed out lips, he breaks slightly, voice croaking out a half-baked request. “Please,” he rasps, sounding more desperate than you’ve heard him before, “let me kiss you.”

You don’t cease in your mission to drive him to near-insanity, stringing the beads of sweat that have started to collect on his forehead together with your tongue. Mirth bubbles within you at his plea, though, and you’re surprised at how patronizing your voice comes out in return. “You mean let me kiss you,” you chastise him, mindlessly noting how lovely he looks when he’s at your mercy. He shudders at your admonishment, and you lick your lips at his reaction.

“Yeah. Kiss me.” He says simply. “Please,” he repeats, when you tilt your head loftily.

As you linger above him, taking his bottom lip under your thumb, he slips his tongue hesitantly along the pad of your finger, eyes imploring and utterly helpless. The sight is intoxicating, and you take a mental picture while waiting for your brain to catch up with your body as he mutters a third please.

Your cheeks expand with delight as an answer occurs to you, his favorite phrase coming flawlessly to mind, and you beam at his waiting form as he fidgets impatiently under you. You lower your mouth to his, not quite a kiss — more a dusting of a touch as he strains to press closer. Pushing down with both hands, you breathe against his lips. “Be good for me, won’t you?”

He whimpers.

[dontcare77ghj]

Queens and King

Steve x reader x Peggy

Requested by @storiesbystarlight

When you were a girl, your father assured you, daily, you were born to be Queen. Your line was chosen by Odin himself, and as long as your father's blood ran through your veins, no-one could ever take that from you.

Your mother died when you were a babe, sweating sickness your governess told you, and your father never remarried after her death. Leaving you as his sole heir. 

As the future Queen of the kingdom, you were put in classes from a young age. Taught every skill a ruler would need to succeed. 

For the most part, your childhood was a lonely one. With no siblings to play with and a strict governess who refused to allow you to skip one lesson, you rarely left the castle.

The only time you were allowed to interact with any children your own age was when Lord's and Ladies would bring their children to court.

While you made some friends and many allies, the two you held closest to your heart were Steve and Peggy.

Peggy, born Margret, was the daughter of the English ambassador. Peggy would often travel with her father as she was training to take the role over one day.

Steve was Steven and the son of Lord Rogers. As Steve would inherit his father's mantle eventually, his father dragged him to court for most of the year.

The three of you were always close, even as you aged and became the people your parents had decided you would be. 

And so it was no surprise to your inner circle when they found out the true nature of your relationship.

The three of you had been together since you were all sixteen. For half your lives now, the three of you had dedicated yourselves to each other. 

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

After dismissing your ladies-in-waiting and informing the guards you were not to be disturbed for the night, you let out a long sigh. You had just entered your bedchamber and were undoing your hair when you stopped in your tracks.

"And just what?" You began, gaining the attention of the two on your bed. "Do you two think you're doing starting without me?" You questioned the two with a raised brow.

"You were taking too long," Peggy said, standing and making her way toward you. "We were bored." She said, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Hm-hmm." You hummed, looking over at Steve. "Did she seduce you, Stevie?" You teased, crooking your finger at him.

"You know how hard I find it to say no to either of you," Steve admitted, standing and walking towards you. 

"Is that a challenge?" You questioned him.

"It sounds like a challenge to me." Peggy agreed.

"How did I know the two of you would believe I was challenging you?" Steve sighed.

"I'm Queen. Everything is a challenge." You shrugged a shoulder.

"Our poor darling." Peggy cooed. "Perhaps we should help relieve the burden upon your shoulders." She suggested, dusting her fingers along your shoulders.

"I believe that is a fantastic course of action, Peg," Steve said, wrapping his arms around both your waists.

"Distract me, my loves."

"I had another proposal today," Peggy mentioned. "Lord Pierce asked if I would think about wedding his son."

"And what did you say?" You questioned, drawing circles on her hipbone.

"I told him where to shove it." Peggy snorted. "He proposed his bastard to me, a bastard who openly despises women in power. I'm also with the two of you, so there's really no contest."

"Good."

"I too have had to respectfully decline several proposals recently," Steve admitted. "It seems now that I have filled out women notice I exist."

"Well, they can't have you," Peggy said, leaning up to kiss the blonde. 

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Steve questioned you.

"Lord Stark approached me on my way here." You admitted. "He said the council wishes I were to accept marriage and give them a King or Queen. Tony said I either accept one of the many proposals or announce our relationship."

"Do you wish me to approach him tomorrow?" Steve asked you.

"No, Tony's harmless. We both know that." You shook your head. "I've already told him and the council I won't accept one of their proposals."

"Then what are you going to do?" Peggy questioned you.

"I was going to see what you thought of me announcing our relationship." You told her. "And perhaps furthering it. I wanted to ask the two of you to marry me. We love each other, we always have, and it might put an end to all those unwanted proposals."

"The people wouldn't like it. We're not of your station." Steve told you.

"The people love you, both of you." You said, sitting up in the bed. "I've never seen either of you as anything but my equals. And to be frank, when it comes to the two of you, I don't care what the people think of my relationship."

"And the court? You know the members of the court will talk more than anyone else." Peggy pointed out. "It could hurt your reputation."

"Who cares the pointless gossip the court spreads? We all know it's toxic. There is nothing they can say that will ever hurt me." You scoffed. "So I have this to ask of you, will you please do me the honor of becoming my husband and wife?" You asked of your lovers. "Whatever your answer, I will respect it, as I have always respected the two of you."

"Yes," Peggy said. "I will marry you." She told you, leaning over to gently kiss you.

"Steve?" You asked, turning to face the blonde.

"I've never given a damn about public opinion," Steve smirked. "Let them say what they will." He said, gently cupping your face and bringing you into a kiss.

"My lords and ladies," You began, rising from your throne elegantly. "Your graces, and your excellencies, I have called you all here today to make an announcement.

For many years now, I have ruled alone. And yet today, I stand before you to announce my greatest happiness. Today I announce my engagement to Ambassador Carter and Lord Rogers." You said, gesturing Peggy and Steve to come to stand beside you as the court whispered amongst themselves.

Holding your hand up, you waited for the court to silence before continuing.

"Come spring, the three of us will be wed, and Ambassador Carter will become my Queen as Lord Rogers will become my King." You informed the court.

"Lord Stark, Your Majesty." A servant announced as Tony entered the room.

"Tony, what can I do for you?" You asked, rising to a stand to greet your friend.

"I have news for you," Tony said, taking a seat at your desk.

"Good or bad?" You asked as a servant poured the two of you glasses of wine.

"Lord Rumlow has taken the recent news of your courtship badly," Tony admitted. "He seems to think you should have sought a marriage with his nephew as he has a claim to the throne already."

"Rumlow's discontentment with my rule is nothing new, Tony. You've never bothered me with his opinions before. Why now?" You quizzed the man.

"Rumlow has allied with Pierce. The two wish to petition your courtship with parliament."

"Excuse me?"

"According to my spies, they believe your relationships with both Ambassador Carter and Lord Rogers are against the laws," Tony informed you. 

"This is ridiculous." You bitterly laughed as you stood from your seat. "Pierce's standing is as low as it could. What does Rumlow gain from his support?"

"From what've I heard they wish to marry his nephew off to Pierce's daughter."

"Why? What does this union bring them?"

"An heir," Tony informed you bluntly. "They seem to believe if you refuse to break off your relationship with Carter and Rogers, they could overthrow you and place Rumlow's nephew on the throne."

"It's treason to think about such things." You shook your head, beginning to pace behind the desk.

"As your friend, may I make a suggestion?" Tony asked, continuing when you nodded at him. "Do not do anything now."

"Don't do anything?" You questioned him. 

"Do nothing. Do not publicly say anything against them and do not approach either of them." Tony nodded.

"Tony, you have always been of good council to me, but this, I don't know if I can sit back and allow the two to ruin my engagement or overthrow me. This is my throne." You said. "This was my father's throne and his before him. I can't be the one to lose it."

"It is your throne, and it will be until your last breath," Tony promised you. "But I have a plan that will allow you to keep your throne, Peggy, Steve, and permanently ruin the reputations of both Rumlow and Pierce. By the time we're done with them, they will never be able to return to court."

"Alright." You sighed, taking your seat and looking at your friend. "My ears are open."

"And you're sure this will work?" Peggy asked you that night. She was laying in your bed with Steve behind her as you sat at the vanity, undoing your hair.

"I do." You nodded. "I trust Tony and his opinions. He's more often right than not." You added, rising to a stand and moving towards your fiances.

"Be that as it may, Rumlow is a snake. A slippery one at that." Steve mentioned as you climbed into bed. "We just don't want you to be blindsided by his tactics."

"I know all too well how tricky Rumlow is. Just as I know, Pierce is not be underestimated either." You said, shaking your head. "I promise I am being careful. We've planned everything out meticulously."

"I hope you have," Peggy murmured. "Because if you were to lose your throne because of us, I would never forgive myself."

"It's true I would feel great shame at being the one to lose the throne Odin chose for my line. But it would not plague me. Without the two of you, my life is a lonely one. I would gladly give up my crown to be with you both." You admitted.

"You shouldn't say that. You are a great Queen. The people need you." Steve said, taking your hand.

"And I need you." You confessed in a small voice. "I can't do this alone. You've always been my rocks. You have been for as long as I can remember. I cannot fathom living this life, doing all this, and not having the two of you at the end of the day. And I understand it's a selfish ideal, but it's true." You told them, taking Peggy's hand as well. "I am not as strong as you think. You are my strength. Both of you are. I love you."

"And we love you too," Peggy said, turning your head towards her and kissing you firmly. "We lean on you as much as you do with us."

"And you are our strength," Steve added, repeating Peggy's actions. "We have always trusted your actions and your decisions, and that will not change now," Steve said as Peggy nodded.

"Good because I can't do this without you." You sighed.

"Especially not this." Peggy joked, lightening the tension of the room.

"You look gorgeous," Peggy said from behind you. Looking up in the mirror, you saw both Peggy and Steve approaching you.

"As do you." You smiled. "And you look handsome as ever, Stevie." You added as they stood behind you.

"Thank you, my Queen," Steve teased, leaning down to kiss you lightly.

"As much as I love to see you both, you do know it's bad luck for us to be seeing one another now, right?" You questioned the two.

"The Goddess of luck has always smiled upon us before. There should be no reason for her to change her mind now." Steve shrugged.

"I suppose you're right." You hummed.

"Besides, I think we've broken too many 'rules' at this time to worry now." Peggy shrugged.

"Now, that is accurate." You laughed as Steve shook his head.

"Are you ready for this, sweetheart?" Steve asked you after a second had passed.

"I've been ready since I was a girl." You brightly smiled at the two.

"Then we shouldn't wait any longer, should we?" Peggy asked, taking your hand and helping you stand.

"No, we shouldn't." You agreed as the three of you walked towards the doors of the chamber.

Everything was about to change.

"Your majesty." Rumlow bowed lowly, as did Pierce beside him.

"Lord Rumlow. Lord Pierce." You acknowledged the two with a nod of your head. "May I introduce you to my Queen, Margret, and my King, Steven." You gestured to your partners, who were sitting either side of you.

"Your majesties." Rumlow greeted, his face turning a slight shade of red. "I thought the nuptials were planned for Spring."

"They were." You nodded. "However, my sources informed me that if I were to wait any longer, traitors to the crown would try to take my thrown from me."

"What villain would think such a thing?" Pierce asked his face a pale shade of white.

"Indeed." You hummed. "So the three of us wed yesterday afternoon with my inner circle present." You told him, nodding to Tony, Knights Natasha, and Clint, as well as Court Physician Bruce.

"Congratulations, your majesty." Rumlow forced out through gritted teeth.

"Thank you. Now, my lords, would you care to tell the rest of the court exactly what you were planning?" You asked as Steve and Peggy smirked when your guards surrounded Pierce and Rumlow.

"Your majesty?"

"Your letters were intercepted." You said as said letters were passed to you. "Lords and Ladies of the court, lords Rumlow and Pierce were trying to usurp my reign." You announced, causing the court to whisper amongst themselves. "The two plotted to petition my engagement on the grounds of illegality. There is no specific law in this kingdom that relates to what the gender or number of people in a relationship should be. There never has been. The letters we intercepted spoke of replacing me with Rumlow's nephew and Pierce's daughter, and that is treason. As punishment, both Rumlow and Pierce will be stripped of their lands and titles and placed into the dungeons."

"You can't do this!" Rumlow yelled as the guards grabbed both him and Pierce.

"They will remain in the dungeons until I find a punishment I deem worthy." You continued, ignoring the shouting man. "Furthermore, their wealth will be distributed to all the villages and towns of this kingdom. It will be shared equally among the less fortunate of my realm." You told the court as Rumlow and Pierce were dragged out of the room.

The court descended into a flurry of whispers. Rising to a stand, you silently watched as the court dropped into silence, waiting for you.

"I am Y/N L/N. I am the daughter of F/N L/N. This is my kingdom. This is my family's lineage. I have served all of you for near on two decades, and I will continue to do so until my own heirs are ready to inherit this throne from me. These heirs will be the children of my King and Queen." You said, gesturing for the two to join you. "This country is in my heart, as it is in your new Queen and King. I hope you remember today for years to come." You said, walking towards the doors with Peggy and Steve at your side.

"You did well," Steve whispered into your ear.

"As you usually do," Peggy murmured.

"Let's hope the message sticks." You hummed to your husband and wife.

It did. The message stuck in the hearts of the nobles and spread to the people. 

It had been six years since you married the loves of life, six years since they were crowned at your side. And it had been five years since you gave birth to your daughter and another three since your son entered the world.

Your shared reign had been a peaceful one. There were no wars, no uprisings, and no plague or famine. It almost seemed too perfect, but you were not one to look the Goddess of luck in the face.

"My Queen, what has you thinking so hard?" Steve asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. The three of you were in your shared chambers, relishing in the fact there were no pressing matters of the court to attend to.

"Nothing pressing." You swore, leaning back into his chest. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

"Are you sure you're the lucky one and not us?" Peggy asked, rising gracefully from the bed.

"Positive." You hummed. "There is not a luckier person in the kingdom than I."

"I think we could find a luckier woman," Steve said.

"And man," Peggy added. "Perhaps all you need is to be persuaded." She teased, standing in front of you and embracing you and Steve.

A grin crossed your face as you looked between your lovers.

"Persuade me, my King and Queen."

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[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, four

rowaelin high school bff au  masterlist

The night Rowan spent snoring next to Aelin was the best night of sleep she’d ever had. After they woke in a tangle of arms and legs, sandwiched together, Aelin wrote an entire page in her journal about the amount of touching they did. She was incredibly upset that she was unconscious for most of it.

She was grateful for their all-nighter though, because in the week that followed, she’d barely seen him. He’d been at the mercy of Lacrosse practices, every morning and evening, doing drills and scrimmages until he could barely walk. She was especially annoyed because with morning practices, it cut into her special Rowan driving her to school time. Because there was no way she was waking up in time to drive him to the field in the morning.

However, today was finally the Lacrosse championship game, which meant that tonight, Aelin would get her best friend back.

She couldn’t wait.

Aelin had spent all last night making a Rowan’s Pump Up Playlist, to help him get into the zone today. He’d briefly mentioned that the cheerleaders were each assigned a varsity player to bake treats for, and Aelin refused to be outshined by some random cheerleader.

Aelin flipped through the playlist one last time. It was good. 47 songs in honor of the number on his, each one an empowering anthem or a self-assured ego boost. Plus, Aelin may have sneakily included songs that insinuated how she felt about him. She only hoped he would read between the lines.

She took her time dressing in green and gold, the school’s colors, and Aelin felt ready for game day. But she suddenly did not feel like waiting around for Rowan to come pick her up today. She wanted to see his face now.

So, in a last minute decision, Aelin rushed out to get them both coffees and headed to the small condo Rowan lived in with his Aunt Maeve. Black, no sugar or milk for Rowan. Hazelnut syrup and extra creamer for Aelin. She placed the hot beverage holder into her bike basket and took off.

Aunt Maeve was just heading out as Aelin pulled the coffees from her basket. Maeve greeted her with a large hug and a wide smile.

“You’re up early, hon,” she laughed, but Aelin smiled through her self-consciousness. She wasn’t really a morning person, but today was important to Rowan. And she wanted to be the best best friend she could be.

“Is he still out on his run?” Aelin asked, and Maeve shook her head, biting her lip conspiratorially.

“He actually didn’t run this morning.”

Aelin gasped an overexaggerated intake of air. She couldn’t fathom Rowan not running every single morning of his life. “No run?!”

Maeve laughed again. “Nope. He wanted to rest up before the big game. Poor thing looked exhausted last night. In fact, last I checked he was still sleeping.”

Aelin looked at her watch. 7:15. Most mornings Rowan was up at 5. If he was actually still asleep, Aelin would never stop mocking him for it. Plus, as she rediscovered the other morning, she really enjoyed a sleepy Rowan.

“Go ahead and wake him,” Meave said, but Aelin hadn’t waited to her approval to make her way into the condo. She made her way up the narrow stairs, coffee in each hand, and headed down the hall to the bedroom she knew so well.

Aelin fiddled with the old handle and pushed it open. The heavy door cracked open slowly, falling against Aelin’s body, so she had to slowly shove it with her hip.

One foot, one shoulder and half her face into Rowan’s bedroom, Aelin completely froze. Deer in headlights. Struck down where she stood.

Because Rowan was not asleep, as his Aunt had thought. Rowan was very much awake. Though his eyes remained closed, Aelin’s gaze fell to about halfway down the covers, where there was a lot of movement going on. She watched for a solid second, jaw unhinged, as Rowan’s hand moved up and down beneath his dark sheets, making a peaked shape with each vigorous movement.

Aelin gasped and blinked rapidly, realizing that she should exit the room immediately, but her gasp was too loud.

Rowan’s eyes flew open and landed on her, standing in his doorway, staring, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks flooded with red.

“AELIN!” he squawked. “WHAT THE FUCK?” Flustered, she watched as Rowan grasped at his comforter, halting his movements to pull up the dark sheets to his chin, so nothing but this face was peeking out. “CLOSE THE DOOR!” Despite the volume, his voice was breathy and strangled, as if he’d just come from his run.

“Oh my gods,” Aelin mumbled, and she knew her cheeks would be redder than Rowan’s if she were to glance in a mirror. “Oh my gods,” she repeated, taking a step back and letting the door slam in her face.

Through the thick wood, she could hear Rowan groan loudly, but it was muffled by sheets. Gods. Aelin knew that Rowan was probably doing that. But to actually see it….? She thought her face might be permanently stained red with how hot she suddenly felt.

Aelin bit her lip, toeing at the beige carpet beneath her sneaker, wondering what the hell she should do now.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked out.

“AELIN, GO DOWNSTAIRS!” Rowan bellowed loudly from behind the door, and Aelin nodded, despite him being unable to see her face. “I’ll be down… soon,” he said softer.

“Kay,” Aelin replied quickly. “You don’t have to rush, or anything. I can… uh, wait. For you to… finish.”

“Aelin, please…” Rowan sounded pained, and she wondered if it was because of his embarrassment or other things. Nope. She was not going to think about that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aelin repeated over and over as she stumbled her way downstairs to the small kitchen table. She slumped over the cheery yellow table and placed her head in her hands, willing her face to cool down. But every time she managed to calm herself, she’d remember the movement beneath Rowan’s sheets and become warm again.

When she heard the shower turn on overhead, Aelin placed her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut and willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She sat like that, even after she heard the heavy footfall of Rowan’s shoes coming down the stairs and tread across the kitchen floor.

She heard the sound of a chair scraping across the tile, but Aelin kept her hands over her face, unable to look at him.

Rowan sighed loudly and took a long sip of his coffee.

“Let’s talk it out,” he said, and Aelin finally peeked through her fingers. Rowan was freshly showered, hair still wet, and he was looking up at the ceiling, also unable to look at her.

“No way,” Aelin mumbled.

Rowan tugged at his hair. “Well, if we don’t I’m going to tank this championship game, and it’ll be your fault.”

Aelin groaned as he pulled her hands away from her face. Hands that were definitely just touching… elsewhere. He held her hands in his for a second on the table before pulling away.

“Fine,” Aelin conceded.

“You didn’t actually see anything, right?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head quickly. Rowan released a steady breath, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

“Great,” Rowan continued. “Then, it’s not a big deal at all, and we are totally fine and nothing is weird. I mean, it was weird that you walked in on it, but everyone does it, right?” He brought his coffee to his mouth and took a long sip, clearly needing to do something to stop his rambling.

“Uh, I’ve never but… yeah, I guess.”

Rowan stopped mid-sip and stared at her, looking as if she’d just told him the most insane fact ever. “You haven’t?”

Aelin shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat again. “I don’t think I know how?”

Rowan inhaled sharply, choking on his coffee, coughing loudly. Aelin buried her face into her hands again. Could this morning get any more awkward?

“You know, there’s definitely, uh, videos on the internet that could help with that.” He paused, his nervous smile expanding as he laughed at his best friend’s horrified face. “I could send you a few if you want.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not allowed to send me porn,” Aelin hissed. Rowan burst out laughing as he poked her cheek.

“I didn’t know your face could get this red, Ace.”

“Yeah, well, we’re learning a lot about each other this morning I guess...”

Rowan snorted loudly  as Aelin grabbed her coffee and stalked toward the front door, away from his mocking. She’d walked in on him but somehow, she was the one who was too embarrassed to function today?

“You know, I stayed up all last night making you a Game Day Playlist, but if you’re going to be mean, I’m not sharing it with you,” she said, and Rowan immediately backtracked, his face lighting up with excitement as he slung his arm over her shoulders.

“You did?”

Aelin nodded, pulling out her phone to show him the playlist. “I was just about to hit share, but maybe I won’t….”

He pouted, his green eyes widening. “I promise I’ll be nice.” He paused. “But also, you should ask Lysandra to teach you. I can’t imagine functioning without doing it every morning.”

Aelin had to bite her tongue from squeaking out EVERY MORNING?! But she just didn’t want to continue having this conversation, despite how badly she wanted to ask Rowan what he thought about every morning while touching himself. There were some questions she just couldn’t ask him, despite how close they were or how curious she suddenly was.

Instead, she hopped into his jeep and sent him the playlist. He connected his phone to his car with a grin and turned up the mix.

“47 songs?” His crooked smile made her stomach flutter, and he laughed as he pressed play and cranked the volume up. “Taylor Swift?”  Rowan scoffed.  “Really?”

“She’s the greatest songwriter of our time,” Aelin replied, sticking her tongue out.

“Maybe, but this fake rap shit is not it,” he laughed, scrolling to the next song. “Ah, much better.”

The first chords of Kanye’s “Power” filled the car, and Rowan took off.

By the time the pair made it to school, their morning awkwardness had completely melted away. And Rowan was in the zone for his game.

He was immediately bombarded by his assigned cheerleader, who, as Aelin had predicted, had baked him cookies. Aelin didn’t recognize the girl – a brown-eyed brunette, who looked every bit the male fantasy in her skin baring cheerleading uniform, her hair pulled up into a curled ponytail and her face displaying the number 47 on each cheek, batting her her curled lashes at her best friend. Aelin wondered for a brief moment what kind of porn Rowan had delved into, if this girl was actually one of his fantasies, but she immediately pushed that aside.

Aelin watched as Rowan smiled, thanking the girl kindly for his baked goods. And she pretended not to notice his eyes linger slightly at the green and gold ORYNTH printed across her chest. Or the way they fell to the short hem of her skirt as she walked away, throwing him one last smile over her bared shoulder.

Aelin looked at her own game day outfit – jeans and a t-shirt, and suddenly felt self-conscious, which she hated. Aelin never felt like this before. She’d never been the type of girl who suddenly compared herself to other girls, but … other girls had never smiled at Rowan like that, either. She suddenly felt a level of possessiveness rush through her. She linked her arm through Rowan’s, who looked surprised, but didn’t object to her closeness.

“Do you want my cookies?” Rowan asked, offering the plastic covered plate to Aelin, and Aelin accepted it greedily. “I think sugar might make me ill today,” he laughed.

“You’re going to be great,” Aelin assured him, knocking her hip against him.

“I hope so,” he mumbled quietly. She knew that Rowan was nervous about the game, but she hadn’t realized how much. As one of two sophomores on the Varsity team, she assumed he’d be seeing mostly bench time, but apparently that didn’t stop his nerves from taking over.

“You’ve worked so hard this season,” Aelin told her best friend and watched as his chest puffed out, swelling with pride. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna crush it. I know.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

“See you on the field,” Aelin said, as he dropped her off at her first class of the day. Double period algebra, ugh.

“I’ll be the one with the big stick in my hand,” Rowan replied with a smile, and Aelin snickered loudly.

“Been there, seen that,” she laughed, and Rowan’s jaw dropped.

“You said you didn’t see anything!” he hissed, and Aelin cackled and winked, and she watched as he realized what she was doing.

“You’re trying to distract me,” he laughed.

“Is it working?” she asked, and he smirked back.

He flicked her off as he shoved his earbuds into his ears, walking away to the rhythm of one of the songs on her playlist.

~*~

If you want to listen to Rowan’s Game Day playlist, check it out HERE

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