#boys ward patients

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

#my writing #fuck it Friday #i swear I’m going to finish trapped buck and Chris and work on proposal fic before i work on this more #but it would be a bunch of glimpses of Buck’s various hospital trips from Eddie’s nurse perspective #and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and #so he does a stint in the maternity ward and buck shows up there #and Eddie is like you’re having a kid? #and bucks like no my sister is what are you doing here #and when buck gets the story he’s like fuck. shit. im sorry i wasnt there #and eddies like picturing seeing buck in that moment of violence and says im glad you weren’t #also Eddie could still be the one who restarts his heart after the lightning strike #this bit is maybe the last scene actually sorry for posting the end first #have a good breakfast boys #buddie #evan Buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

[laniidae-passerine]

see I am very disjointed from a lot of nine/ten fandom discourse because I genuinely believe that in a different world where space boy was not to be seen, had an older Rose gone to the hospital and bumped into a certain Doctor Jones by a vending machine or as she was taking Rose’s vitals, she would have instantly hit it off with Martha. and probably flirted with her a little on accident and then on purpose when Martha flirted back

#I can see Martha raising an eyebrow as she catches Rose (who definitely snuck out despite being on bedrest) by the vending machine #Rose probably snuck out of bed because the girl in the bed next to her was crying and she wanted to make her feel better #because she doesn’t really like hospitals either #and when she tells Martha this she’s surprised when the Doctor (who seems quite strong and a little serious) suddenly smiles #and shows her a trick to get extra sweets and chocolate out of the machine #and then tells her to hurry because the check-in sweep of Rose’s ward is about to begin #you just KNOW Rose would be Martha’s most combative patient but in all the best ways #always asking what that machine does. what that incomprehensible doctor scrawl means. if there’s something she can do to help other patients #and Martha loves it. loves how much Rose cares just like her. they gossip and they chat about their daily lives. they get closer #everytime Martha has to scold Rose for sneaking out of bed or doing something she shouldn’t #(even though she secretly adores it. she’s never really mad she just wants Rose to take care of herself as well as other people) #she sighs and says (in her most firm but still fond tone) ‘Miss Tyler-’ #only to be struck in the heart again with a cheeky grin and a ‘yes Doctor Jones?’ #and also Rose loves that Martha is a doctor. that Martha cares. that she works overtime. that almost all Martha’s patients love her #and the ones that don’t just aren’t kind people anyway. that Martha doesn’t condescend. that Martha cares and cares and cares #that Martha likes all the things about Rose that other people think make her difficult and trouble and too much #she likes the things that other people don’t like in Martha either. thinks she’s magic. #Rose Tyler is always going to love her Doctor. and Martha Jones will always love somebody who thinks everybody matters #I’m like. obsessed with them?? move OVER space boy (actually nine can get involved in this. lmao ten stay away) #they’d have been so cuteeeee #rtd failed to see the lesbionic possibility but I am no such coward. no fighting over boys here #martha jones #rose tyler #dw #doctor who

[jam-campasta]

when the bae kills a superhero for you <3

#the boys #hughie campbell #robin ward #blood tw #blood #blood // #myart #idk what else to tag this as. i just started watching this show LOL #me watching the boys be like: i kick my feet cutely and wait ever so patiently for jensen ackles to show up #no one tell me anything tho im having a nice time not knowing what happens hehe

[cl-01-kestis]

Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | nsfw

Summary: Your rivalry with Tom Riddle was widely known around Hogwarts, there’s no one you hate more than him. But through the mist of rage and competition, Tom finds himself tempted by a very odd scenario.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, public sex, blood kink, injury description, fingering, cunnilingus, Tom has a borderline fetish for blood consumption, (both of you are 18)

(Part 2 taglist)

If there was one single person, only one, who you could hate the rest of your brief existence, it would be Tom Riddle.

Your reasoning was endless, every interaction was poison. He made no attempt of hiding the fact he hated you either, yet neither of you tried to resolve it.

For 6 years, Tom had been the one person who always got under your skin. He had a habit of teasing your skill, even though it was near the best in each class you sat. You scored 80% and above in each exam you sat, yet he still managed to pluck out the detailed faulty of your knowledge. He was always better than you, he always had to be better than you. He made sure of it.

Sometimes you thought he was better just to grind your gears, all that studying he put in was possibly to aggravate you. You knew it gave him the mightiest pleasure to see you suffer at his hands, he would have it no other way.

Potions class today was no different. You brewed one of the most advanced potions and handed in your thesis to your professor, minding your own business and going your own way. But your chest tightened and your hands turned into fists when you heard his voice nearby, laughing wickedly with his friends who stood by the corridors. You held your books close to your chest, avoiding any eye contact with the group of brash boys.

Tom spotted you but he didn’t say anything, instead he glared at you with a sharp smirk on his pale face. Your eyes found him, but you wish they didn’t. Your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed, your pace unconsciously speeding up.

He watched you with a malicious glint in his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself as you looked away and rushed off, your cloak floating softly behind you. His friends words became a hazy murmur, his mind drifting from their conversation to thoughts of you and your pitiful demeanour. He found himself pondering your flushed face and pretty frown, knowing he caused it the majority of the time.

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the library, hopeful to squeeze in some studying before dinner time. He wondered if you would be there, but his soft expression moulded into a scowl when he realised how intrusive his thoughts became about you. He licked his lips and entered the library, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

-

You sat silently in the medical ward, eyes full of tears and your hands shaking from pain. You were outside the school grounds for a while with the creatures of the school greenhouses, needing to clear your head, the next minute you were tripping over a flowerpot and cutting your thigh deeply with large gravel. The head healer spent an hour plucking bits of rock from your wound, giving you supplements of pain relief to get you through the process.

Now you sat in bed with your wound open, she claimed it needed to be aired so it healed quicker with the medicine she gave you. But you were still in pain and still somewhat bleeding.

You missed dinner, to your sadness, but the healers made sure to give you some snacks and chocolate frogs to appease the hunger you felt. But you missed the roast dinner and sweet pudding you received every night, your stomach craved it.

You laid back against the soft bed, keeping your injured leg bent so it didn’t rub against the sheets or your other leg. You held a charms book in your hands, shakily flipping the page as you continued reading in the quiet of the ward. You heard the distant footsteps of the head healer, her voice whispering to other students since other patients were sleeping. You tried to block out the noise and continued reading.

Until the door to the ward opened, and in walked none other than Tom Riddle. Immediately, you hid your face in your book and sneakily grabbed the cover a few feet away, tugging it towards you to hide yourself more. You weren’t in a mood to bang heads with him, or even interact with him. The fact he was even in the same room as you made you want to chuck your charms book at him.

He was visiting Avery, you heard him ask one of the healers where he was and she hastily lead him to his bed, which was right beside yours. You cursed Merlin, grateful for the cover blocking his vision from you. Especially because your skirt was hiked up and your tights were off, your bare skin showing. You sat up in your bed, careful not to make any noise possible as you pulled up the covers and laid them over your legs. You weren’t about to be humiliated by your bully, you might as well fling yourself off the astronomy tower.

You heard the both of them bicker, but none of their words registered in your head. Tom was irritated at something, you didn’t really care. Hearing him annoyed made you smirk behind your book, knowing you never heard it often. Tom was a secluded man, he never showed an ounce of anger or irritation towards you when you insulted and constantly one upped each other. He was stone cold, but sometimes he cracked.

You heard Tom scoff at something Avery had said, but you quickly zoned out and found yourself slipping into unconsciousness, too tired to care. One of the healers came over to your bedside and buffed the pillows for you, wishing you a goodnight and making sure you were comfortable before returning to her nightly duties. This caught Tom’s attention, soon he found himself peeking around the cover shielding you. His eyes widened and he missed what Avery had said, completely focused on your sleeping state and the charms book in your hands.

“Hey, did you even listen to what I just said?” Avery frowned, fussing over his broken finger which was healed without hassle over an hour ago. He was taking up the bed when he didn’t need to, and Tom was here to drag him out. But now Tom was dwindling on the thought of why you were here, if you were hurt or recovering from an injury. He found himself lingering on you with concern, but his attention begrudgingly turned back to Avery after he continued to whine.

“Abraxus is waiting for you in the common room, don’t make him wait any longer than necessary” Tom instructed with narrow eyes, similar to a snakes.

“Aren’t you coming?” Avery raised a brow, cradling his bandaged finger.

“No, I have other matters to attend to” Tom dismissed Avery, who nodded his head and made his way to the infirmary exit.

Tom waited for Avery to leave until turning his attention back to you. You were still sleeping, the covers hiked up to your waist as you slept. Tom pulled up a chair and sat down at the corner of your bed, taking the charms book from your hands to inspect it curiously. This caused you to shuffle and peek one eye open, dread filling your heart as you realised who sat at the end of your bed.

“Hey, give that back!” You sat up, trying to snatch the book back from toms hands, but the Slytherin smirked and leaned back in his seat.

“Not until you tell me why you’re here. Let me guess, you were clumsy as always and had an accident?” He cackled, a shit eating grin on his charming face as he put his arm up while still holding your book. You were unable to reach it now.

You sat back in your bed, crossing your arms and scowling at him as he placed the book back down into his lap and opened the pages.

“I don’t have time for your shit, Tom, and for the record I am not clumsy” You frowned deeply, moving your foot to kick him square in the knee, causing another laugh to escape his pale lips.

“You obviously are, you always have been” He shot back. “I bet you broke your leg, or maybe you sprained your ankle?” He continued to toy with you until your face was red with embarrassment.

“I cut my leg okay? Just leave me alone” You looked away, suddenly finding the bedside table very interesting. Toms grin didn’t disappear, but he was curious about how your leg looked.

“That’s it? Just a small cut?”

“It’s not small, the nurse spent an hour taking out rocks and little bits of gravel from my leg” You sit up, peeking under the covers and noticing you bled on the sheets. Cursing, you lifted up the covers a tiny bit, revealing the top of your thighs to Tom who quickly fell silent and looked down at your charms book. He didn’t like you, but he wasn’t a pervert. He wanted to at least respect your privacy.

You brought your legs out from the bed, grabbing bandages from the side of your bed and unravelling them to wrap around your leg. Tom watched quietly, noticing the trickle of blood trailing down your shin after you placed your feet on the ground.

“You’re bleeding” He stated.

“Yeah I can see that, idiot” You sneered, wiping the blood with your hands instinctively and cursing as you smeared the blood further. Tom rolled his eyes and stood up, dragging his seat with him as he quickly summoned a pack of towels with his wand. You fell silent as he sat in front of you, sighing loudly as he placed the towels down on the dresser and looked down at your bleeding leg.

His eyes widened almost immediately, a pang of shock flooding his system as he watched the crimson liquid seep from your deep wound. He didn’t expect it to be this bad, the blood was all over your hands and smeared over your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess” He grumbled, grabbing the towels and grabbing your ankle so he could set it on his leg. You shoved him off and glared at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice was wary, not matching the angry glare seeping into his skin. You sounded confused, not hostile.

“I’m trying to help you” He snapped back.

“But why? I didn’t ask for your help-“

“Just shut up and give me your leg” Tom raised his voice, his eyes flickering up to yours as a warning. Your jaw snapped shut, bottom lip poking out just a bit further as you gave in and raised your leg. Tom muttered a ‘stupid girl’ and pressed the towel to your leg. You looked away and screwed your eyes shut, hissing at the stinging pain as he delicately dabbed the towel onto your wound.

“Stay still, you’re moving too much” He muttered in frustration, his grip on your ankle intensifying as he turned the towel around to catch more blood. You looked down at your hands, just as you were about to wipe them on your skirt he stopped you.

“Are you stupid? Here, let me” He grabbed your hands, his touch oddly soft yet commanding. Toms hand pressed against yours, the blood transferring onto his skin and causing his fingers to get sticky. His motions slowed, his eyes stuck on your clasped hands as the blood seeped through the cracks of his fingerprint. His eyes darkened, his throat suddenly dry and his stomach tense.

Your blood was on his hands, he realised. You started to get anxious at his silence and stillness, ready to ask what was wrong. But the boy simply stared and turned your hand over, his thumb caressing your palm. Tom gulped, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he let go of your hand and inspected his own bloodied one. Your blood started to dry on his skin, the smell of iron filling his senses. His mouth watered.

“Is everything okay?” You asked worriedly, leaning forward to your knees were touching. Tom nodded his head, his hands starting to tremble as he looked away from the blood and into your eyes. He swallowed again, his hand creeping back to hold your one as his eyes trailed to your lips. The feeling of blood between your palms was a strange sensation, you felt like you needed to wash your hands, but Toms skin felt like a dream against your own.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You whisper with a heavy breath, your heart beating erratically fast.

“If that’s what you want?” His voice sounded so soft, so vulnerable all of a sudden as his bloody hand cupped your cheek, his thumb skimming the skin of your cheek.

Without hesitation, you nodded, and Tom gently pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. They were softer than you imagined, because admittedly, you thought of kissing him before. All that pent up frustration made you think of him differently overtime, no matter how much you hated him. You can’t deny you’ve pictured yourself in this situation many times.

Tom was so delicate with you as his other hand pressed against your unharmed leg, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned back into his chair. You straddled his waist, your lips departing momentarily as your breaths mingled together, right before he pulled you back in and kissed you fiercely. He cradled your body against his, bringing one of your hands up to his face before pulling away.

Tom took one of your bloody fingers into his mouth, licking the crimson substance off your skin which shot a shrill of excitement up your spine. Toms mouth was so hot and inviting, his tongue eager. You couldn’t help but whimper quietly as he bit one of your fingers, jutting his hips up into yours as you cupped his face with your free hand, getting blood on his jaw.

You kissed once again, his tongue entering your mouth, carrying the strong taste of iron. You tasted your blood before realising you were being pushed back onto the bed. Tom looked down at your thigh which was still wet with fresh blood and his eyes glistened with excitement, he crouched down so he was face to face with your uplifted skirt and revealed panties, but he didn’t look to them at the moment.

Toms tongue caught the stains of blood from your wound and lapped it up like a man deprived from water. Your hand flew to his hair, gripping it as you gasped at his surprising ministrations. Tom didn’t go near your wound in fear of infecting it, but he didn’t shy off the blood surrounding it.

“Oh Merlin… Tom, please” You cry silently, arching your back. Tom glanced up to your panties, noticing the obvious wet patch which grew bigger as time went on. He smirked against your skin, raising his arms and hooking his fingers underneath each hem of your panties.

The both of you were aware you were in a public area, so Tom quickly grabbed another cover from the ward beside you and shielded the both of you from anyone who might’ve come in at the wrong time. You sighed out in relief before Tom was back on you, his attention now on your skirt and underwear. He resumed removing your small garments that, really, left nothing to the imagination.

“Do you want me to continue?” He looked up at you with a soft gaze, noticing the nervous hints of your expression. You nodded your head eagerly, raising your hips so he could pull off your panties easier. Tom smiled and kissed you passionately as he put your underwear in his pocket, his hands slipping under your skirt and gripping your bare hips. You tried your best to keep quiet underneath him, but he was making it near impossible.

“How much do you need me?” Tom asked, trailing his lips down your neck and whispering against your pulse. You closed your eyes, using his shoulders as support as he grazed your tummy with his slender fingers.

“More than I can admit” You flush, leaning your head back to give him further access to your neck. Tom smirked against your skin and unzipped your skirt, pulling it off in one quick motion.

“You’re too full of pride to admit how much you crave me, I know you’ve thought about it, you’ve been anticipating this moment” He laid between your legs, his elbows stopping his body from fully leaning on you.

“I’ve been wanting this too, in class I’ve found myself picturing you bent over a desk, screaming my name” His hand found your exposed pussy, causing you to let out a choked moan. You felt like your skin was on fire, feeling too hot underneath your shirt and tie.

“Touch me, please” You gasp, Tom quickly covered your mouth with his free hand and leaned back so he sat back on his knees, positioning you so your head was against the pillow.

“We can’t be too loud now, darling, you need to stay quiet for me, okay?” He soothed your whines, kissing your forehead before focusing his attention below. His eyes shadowed over with desire, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

His thumb pressed against your clit, massaging small circles against it which caused your legs to tense up. You closed your eyes and struggled against his hand, holding onto his wrist as he brought his other hand up and lathered it with spit. He inserted his finger inside you slowly, careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable as he leaned down and kissed your neck. You used your free hands to undo your tie and unbutton your shirt, exposing your bra to Tom’s greedy eyes. He made a pathway of bites and kisses down to your breasts, all whilst thrusting his finger inside of you. You watched as a loose curl dropped in front of his eyes, making a fairly disheveled appearance. He watched as he inserted a second finger, enamoured with the way you stretched.

You tilted your hips up and hummed against his palm, throwing your head back slightly when he started to curl those two fingers. You grabbed the wrist once more, your grip tight but not enough to distract Tom from his goal. He directed his fingers towards that special spongy place inside you, causing you to nearly curl up into a ball if it weren’t for him keeping your legs apart.

“You’re soaking for me, fuck” He cursed lowly, picking up his speed which made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You trembled against the mattress, cunt squeezing around his skilled fingers as he kept punching your g-spot.

You tapped his hand, signalling to take it off your mouth. Tom quickly removed his hand, pushing a few strands stuck to your sweaty skin away from your face. He noticed your puffy lips and glazed eyes, smiling fondly as he watched your expression contort with pleasure.

“Oh god” You whisper, reaching up to grab his shoulder.

“Say my name” He pleaded as quietly as he could, his thumb returning to your clit and circling it softly which caused another adoring reaction from you. Your grip tightened against the material of his prefect blazer, but Tom didn’t care about the crinkles you caused. He leaned down and pressed his body against yours, your mouth was just beside his ear.

“Tom- please… I need you so bad” You sobbed, voice muffled by his shoulder. Tom cradled your head as his fingers worked harder on your pussy, leading up to an almost life changing orgasm. You felt your body tense, goosebumps scattering quickly as you started to climb your high. Tom peppered kisses over your flushed cheeks and forehead, down to your jaw where he sucked a dark love bite, marking you as his.

“You gonna cum, darling? Do it, do it for me” Tom mumbled, his voice verging on a whine as he watched you unravel. You squeezed your eyes shut, body freezing completely as the feeling of sharp, hot white pleasure ripped through you. It was more than difficult trying to keep quiet, tears trailed down your temples as you suppressed a scream. Tom kept curling his fingers into you to help you ride out your orgasm, feeling a sense of pride as he watched you twist and turn with unbearable pleasure.

Your breaths were ragged, you sounded like you’d been through 10 rounds of Quidditch with no breaks. Your legs shook at either side of Riddle as he gently removed his fingers from you, coated with your slick honey. He placed his fingers in his mouth and hummed, his tongue licking up the goodness of your climax. You felt yourself become aroused once more just by watching him taste your cum, you needed him all over again.

But to both of your devastation, the infirmary doors opened and a couple of healers walked in with new patients, thankfully going to the opposite side of the ward and away from you and Tom. The Slytherin pressed a wet finger to his lips, smirking as he lifted up your skirt and bent down.

You held back the combination of a giggle and a moan as he went down for a full taste, his lips kissing your inner thighs and right above your clit.

The two of you heard the nurses converse about treatments and diagnostics, all whilst Tom slipped his tongue inside you and held both of your legs over his shoulders. You had to keep your eyes open, alert in case either of the nurses came and checked on you at the wrong time. But Tom was distracting you terribly, to the point you quivered and kept looking down at his mop of dark curly hair between your legs.

He was just as skilled with his tongue as he was with his fingers, which caused difficulty when it came to keeping silent. You threw your head back against the pillow, your fingers lacing with his hand and giving it a gentle tug as he devoured you. Tom groaned against you, hands on your hips and guiding you easier to his eager mouth.

You wanted to cry, everything felt so good. Too good. You couldn’t remember how you got here, but by Merlin you never wanted it to stop.

You already felt your second orgasm approaching, the muscles in your body tensing once more as another tear left your eye. Tom was relentless, cruel with the flicks of his tongue as he glanced up at you struggling to keep your composure.

The peak of your climax creeped up on you suddenly, making you grab the pillow underneath your head and use it as a muffler as you let out a pained groan, thankfully not loud enough for the nurses to hear. Tom suckled your clit as you fell off that beautiful drop in your stomach, hips stuttering against his jaw as he held them down and continued lapping at your arousal. You cried, eyes shut and teeth clamping on the pillow as you used every cell in your body not to scream.

Tom pulled back when he felt he was satisfied enough with your orgasm, using his fingers to catch the sticky substance near his mouth that he couldn’t quite reach with his tongue. You kept your face hidden under the pillow for a while, still too fucked from the wonderful feeling between your legs. Tom carefully slid himself away from your legs, planting soft kisses on each one before clambering off the bed and back into his own seat, right beside your head.

“Darling?” His voice was quiet, eyes glancing down at you with slight concern. He wondered if he went too far, if you couldn’t handle the torment he gave. But he saw your sly smile immediately after you removed the pillow from your red face, eyes glazed over with pure satisfaction as you looked up at him.

“You should’ve done this far before now” You chuckled softly, your hands still grasping the pillow tightly. Tom leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair off your face once more and finding himself enamoured by the sight in front of him.

For the first time, a moment of peace dispersed between you two. There was no bickering, no insults, no battling it out until the other proved them self to be better. There was blissful, adoring peace. Tom placed his hand over your one, noticing it was still shaking from earlier.

“How are you feeling? Do you need any water? Any sugar?” He asked, his eyes tracing the shape of your face whilst his thumb brushed the skin of your knuckles. Your smile grew wider, nodding your head as you gestured to the glass of water on your bedside table. Tom helped you sit up, buffing your pillows and handing the glass of water over to you. He pulled the covers over your bare legs, protecting whatever modesty you had left as he contained doting over your hair. You didn’t want to know how bad you looked right now, but you felt very spoiled with Tom’s attentive nature.

“I feel bad” You whispered.

“How come?” The Slytherin prefect asked curiously.

“You didn’t get to finish” You frown, looking at the obvious tent in his pants as he let out a brief scoff.

“Don’t think about it too much, you can repay me when you feel better” He winked, causing you to roll your eyes.

Tom made sure you looked presentable for the nurses before leaving, and it just so happened he timed it perfectly.

The head healer peeked through one of the covers shielding your privacy, asking if it was okay to come in after noticing Tom’s presence. The both of you nodded and Tom seemed to get the hint when she showed you a thick pack of bandages and more medicine.

“I think it’s best that you go back to your dorm, Mr Riddle, don’t want to be out past curfew now” The healer smiled fondly at the two of you, sensing something was going on but minding her business nonetheless.

“Of course, my apologies if I’ve outstayed my welcome” Tom stood up, but not before giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before making his way out. He bowed to the healer, then you. He wished the both of you a goodnight before vanishing into the shadows outside the covers. You immediately felt lonely without him, but the nurse seemed to dissipate your sudden separation anxiety. She sat down in the seat Tom did and asked for your leg.

“He’s a good boy that one, dear” The nurse grinned, sterilising your abrasion before wrapping it in bandages.

“Yeah… he certainly is” You chuckled.

#x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #harry potter smut #tom riddle smut #Harry potter x reader

[sea-lanterns]

HALLOWEEN

synopsis: (slasher! AU) an escaped psych ward patient wants to see you again.

featuring: shenhe

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, mentions of murder, knives, stalking, breaking and entering, house invasion, size k.ink, size difference, praise, manhandling, oral (reader recieving), wall se.x, grinding, hump.ing, ni.pple sucking, ni.pple biting, hickies, marking, possessiveness, pwp, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion

“Hehe, I win!”

“Great job, Yaoyao!”

You smiled and pat Yaoyao on the head while her older sister Qiqi clapped quietly in praise. Although it was Halloween night, you spent your time babysitting your neighbor’s kids, as he had to go out unexpectedly to run some last minute errands. Though most adults your age would find this kind of thing “boring” and “a waste of a Halloween night,” you actually enjoyed babysitting Baizhu’s kids, as you practically raised them as an older sister from the time they were basically infants. 

At the moment, you were currently playing board games with the two girls, after a long night of watching kids’ Halloween movies and helping them with their homework. It was almost nearing the girls’ bedtime at this point, so you made a note to yawn and pretend like you were tired.

“Oh man…I’m all tired you guys…” you said with a smile, looking up at the clock. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Awe…” Yaoyao pouted, but began cleaning up the games regardless. 

“Does this mean you’re leaving soon?” Qiqi inquired in a quieter voice, looking hesitant to let you go. “Is Papa home yet? I don’t wanna go to bed until Papa is home.” 

“Papa will be home soon. It’s almost nine.” You say reassuringly, giving Qiqi a small head pat before going over to the kitchen to pour Qiqi’s glass of coconut milk. “Come here and get your coco milk.” You say softly, peeking your head through the door. “Yaoyao, why don’t you go put on your PJs while I serve your sister her milk.”

“Okay!” Yaoyao exclaimed, running up the stairs while Qiqi quietly walked into the kitchen. She had a habit of drinking a cold glass of coconut milk every night before bed, so you opened up the fridge to grab the carton, before seeing Qiqi plop herself at the table. 

“…Big Sister.” Qiqi said in a monotone voice, catching your attention as you poured the milk into a glass. 

“Hm?” You glanced over, slightly distracted as she called you by your nickname. 

“…Is it true that the boogeyman exists?” She asks in a softer voice, her head resting on the table with a small look of worry in her eyes. “One of the kids at school said that the boogeyman was a tall man, whose face was as white as a sheet.” 

She turned her head and pointed to the abandoned house across the street, the one where the infamous murder incident took place over twenty something years ago. “They say that he lived in that house before he got taken away. That he murdered his father as a young boy…is it true?”

You froze when she said all this, not expecting Qiqi of all people to ask you about the murder case that happened about twenty something years ago. You were practically a kid when the news story made headlines, but as much as the story haunted you till this day, you didn’t want to scare the girl with a story that could potentially give her nightmares. 

“No, Qiqi honey.” You say in a soothing tone, handing her the glass of coconut milk and rubbing her head. “That’s just a Halloween story. The boogeyman doesn’t exist.”

‘It was a boogeywoman.’ You couldn’t help but think, as you shuddered just looking back at the old abandoned house. Years ago, a young girl was the perpetrator of a murder case back when you were just a child. It was the talk of the town, the story of the infamous young girl; Shenhe, who brutally murdered her father in that house and was sent to a psychiatric institution with a case of homicidal tendencies. 

You remember that day like it was yesterday, as Shenhe was actually one of your friends back when you were in elementary school. It was hard to believe such a quiet and mature girl could be the person behind slaughtering a full grown man, and while it was terrifying, you couldn’t help but feel upset that your friend had to be taken away. 

“…Big sister, you spilled some coco milk on your shirt.” Qiqi said in a monotone voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Wha—” you looked down and saw that you had accidentally spilled some coconut milk all over your clothes. 

“Oh…shoot!” You couldn’t help but exclaim, nearly cursing before remembering that you were in the prescience of a child. “Ah…sorry. I must’ve been lost in thought for too long.”

You set the carton back into the fridge and tried cleaning out the milk stain with a wet napkin and some soap. It was no use, the stain was simply too big and since you were wearing a white shirt, it looked translucent when in a brightly illuminated area for too long.

“…Big sister, I can see your—”

“Yes Qiqi, I know.” 

You sighed and walked over to your backpack to grab a spare change of clothes. “Luckily for me however, I am always prepared!” You held up an old T-shirt you had brought and showed it off to Qiqi. “Cool, right? Now, since you’ve finished your milk, why don’t you head upstairs and join your sister in going to bed? I have to change before the smell of milk stays on me.” 

Qiqi nods and gets out of her chair to make her way upstairs, leaving you to change in the kitchen as you sigh and begin stripping out of your clothes, already tired from today’s activities. As you removed your shirt however, you failed to notice a masked woman staring at you from behind the window, watching you as you removed the stained T-shirt and slid the new one on. 

Her heavy breathing fogged up the window while she watched you intently. Sharp, iridescent eyes trailing over the curves of your figure, before quickly moving away when you glanced back to look at the window. 

“…Hm.” You stared at the window for a few more seconds before turning away, cleaning up some of the plates off the table as the masked woman watched you from outside. It had been…so long since she had last seen you, so many years of isolation and she finally had the chance to see you again after being taken away to be locked like a prisoner for her own misdeeds. 

“…Mine.” The masked woman mumbled to herself, watching you with need before quickly scrambling away when the headlights of a car pulled into the driveway.

As you finished cleaning up some of the dishes, you heard the sound of keys jingling into the lock before Baizhu’s familiar footsteps entered the house. “I’m home…!” He exclaims jovially, the sounds of tiny footsteps running down the stairs, as Yaoyao and Qiqi —now in their PJs— ran to greet their Papa before heading to bed.

“Baizhu!” You exclaim with a smile.

“Papa!” Both Qiqi and Yaoyao exclaim, running up to him and hugging him on each leg. 

“Oof…easy there…my blood pressure is gonna spike…” he groans, giving the two girls a pat on the head before glancing over at you. 

“Hey…how were they?” 

“As easy as every other time.” You say with a chuckle, before beginning to put on your coat. 

“Ah, I’m glad.” Baizhu says with a smile, nudging his two daughters to face you. “Well, what do you say girls?”

“Thank you Big Sister…!” Qiqi and Yaoyao speak at the same time. 

“Anytime.” You chuckle, saying your final goodbyes to the two girls, as they head upstairs to finally head to bed. This left you with Baizhu as you got ready to head home, making sure everything was packed in your bag and nothing was left behind. 

“Stay safe out there, it can get pretty dangerous late at night,” Baizhu hums as he counts the money in his wallet to give to you. “I heard rumors of an escapee from the psychiatric facility a few miles down from here. The police are tracking the escaped patient, but it’s best to get home quickly for your own safety.” 

Your heart sunk at the impending news, the same psychiatric facility where your childhood friend was locked up for murdering her father. It couldn’t be a coincidence, surely. 

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to head home fast.” You say with a nod, taking the money before stuffing it in your pocket. “Have a nice night, Mr. Baizhu, and have a wonderful Halloween.”

“You too.” Baizhu nods, allowing you to exit his home as you begin walking down the block to your own house. You didn’t live too far from the Baizhu family residence, yet walking down the block all alone on a late Halloween night was not really the ideal situation for you to be in. Especially considering the news of the escaped patient that Baizhu notified you about. 

“Geez, how eerie…” you mumbled to yourself, glancing up at the abandoned house Shenhe used to live in, and being reminded of your childhood together before she was taken away. 

Shenhe was such a sweet and quiet girl —at least to you— and you had such fond memories of playing with her everyday after school until it was so late into the evening you could see stars. You had no idea she was capable of such brutal, homicidal tendencies, yet perhaps you’ve misjudged her, and maybe she really was just a sociopath after all…

You shook your head at the thought. No, it can’t be. Shenhe was always so sweet to you. Perhaps one day she just snapped and was—

You stopped walking when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. A shiver running down your spine as you slowly turned around and saw a tall, masked woman standing just several feet away.

“O-Oh!” You flinched a little and backed up a bit when you saw her. Her tall, looming figure made you feel small, as she towered over you like you were nothing but a mouse ready for her to step on. “Ah…sorry, you startled me a bit…” you say with a nervous chuckle, holding onto your backpack straps with worry. “I uh…I like your costume…”

The masked woman tilted her head slightly, staring at you with familiar, iridescent eyes that had you squinting for a closer look. ‘Why do they look so familiar…?’

“…Uhm.” When the woman did not respond, you looked around awkwardly before getting an idea. 

“Oh! Are you…trick or treating?” You ask with a smile, reaching into your pocket to pull out a small, wrapped mint. “Sorry I don’t have anything else, but I hope this is enough to suffice!”

You hesitantly walk closer to hold out the candy to the woman, whose body stiffens up when you offer her the small, wrapped treat. You may have forgotten after all these years, but her favorite candy was actually small mints, and the fact you still carried around mints to this day had her heart beating sporadically out of her chest.

‘She’s still as nice as ever…’ the masked woman thought as she slowly looked down and stared at the wrapped mint with amusement. Carefully, she takes it out of your hand, her much larger fingers brushing over your palm and causing you to shiver. 

“Ah…your hand is quite cold…” you couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling your arm back to keep it at your side. “Don’t stay out too long, it’s dangerous late at night. Stay safe out there, okay?” You smile sweetly at the masked woman and the sight has her blushing underneath her rubber mask. She had forgotten how sweet and beautiful you were after years of not seeing you, and she wanted nothing more than to keep you by her side for as long as she possibly could. 

“…Thank you.” She says in a muffled voice, your pulse jumping at how unexpectedly deep and husky it was. 

“You’re welcome!” You respond with a smile, giving her a polite bow before making your way back to your house. Though your initial encounter may have spooked you a little bit, all you could think about was just how cute the masked woman was. 

‘Ahhhh I should’ve asked for her number or something!’ You groaned inwardly, calling yourself pathetic in several different languages before pulling out the keys to your house. ‘Oh well, it’s a small town. Maybe I’ll see her again…’

Or tonight, considering you failed to notice the woman still stalking you from the shadows as you headed into your house rather blindly. Shutting the door behind you and heading inside to kick off your shoes, hang up your coat, and go to bed since you were aching for a good night’s rest before work tomorrow. 

“Ugh…” you trudged up the stairs to head to your room, plopping on the bed and taking a breather before mustering up the strength to do grown-up things like shower and eat a decent meal like a responsible adult. It took quite a bit of mental encouragement to get up from the heavenly abyss of your bed, but soon enough, you rolled off the covers and began digging through your dressers to find a nice clean pair of PJs to change into. 

After finding a decent set, you got up and began making your way to the bathroom, humming a small tune to yourself and locking yourself in the bathroom. As you did this however, the door to your house slowly creaked open, the tall, masked woman from earlier making her way inside as her only goal for tonight was to see you again. 

And hopefully make you hers.

She took a brief walk around your house, tilting her head at the various knick knacks and items scattered around your house before making her way upstairs. She heard the sounds of a shower being turned on and decided to surprise you by hiding in your bedroom closet. She couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you saw her again, the poor woman practically trembling with excitement as she stuffed her larger body into such a small space. 

Now, all she had to do was wait. 

And wait.

…And wait. 

And wait as she did, but the woman was beginning to feel incredibly cramped as she stood in your closet door for what seemed like eternity (even though it had only been ten minutes) 

Feeling a bit bored, the woman slowly exited the room and was about to walk down the hall, when she came face to face with just you in a towel. The moment you locked eyes on each other, you screamed and nearly dropped your towel out of fear, almost flashing yourself at the other woman as she scrambled to keep you calm. 

Before you could start running, the woman quickly ran up to you and suddenly picked you up in a hug that had your legs dangling in the air due to her strength. 

“H-Holy shit—!”

“Quiet…Quiet…”

The woman pressed a comforting hand on your head and began petting you in soft, yet sturdy strokes. Her other arm had muffled your screaming as she tried her best to silence your fears, pleading for you to stay quiet so you didn’t alert the neighbors with your cries. 

“Mmmpf! Hnnn!” You squirmed in her grasp but it was no use. The woman holding onto you had some sort of freakish strength that kept you from making even the slightest of movements, causing you to flip out even more as you realized this might be the end. 

‘I’m gonna die. Oh my fucking god I’m gonna die!’ You were so close to tears and continued trying to fight for your life. Squirming and thrashing around like a fish out of water, before suddenly being pinned to the wall to stop your flailing. 

“Mmpf!”

“Quiet…!” 

The masked woman spoke in a rough, yet somewhat familiar tone. Her larger body pinning you to the wall as she kept a firm hand over your mouth to successfully gag you from screaming any unwanted sounds. 

‘I’m so dead…I’m so dead…!’ You screamed with your eyes closed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst, only to have the killer…suddenly hug you?

At the feeling of the masked woman’s arms embracing you like an old friend, your body tensed up as she leaned forward to bury her face into your shoulder, as if she didn’t just scare the shit out of you moments prior. 

“Ah…h-hah…wha…” 

“Mine.”

You heard the woman grumble the word like it was a fact, pushing you further against the wall. Your heart was still beating sporadically out of your chest from all the adrenaline, but something in the tone of her voice made you shiver with a strange nostalgia you had no idea you had.

“Mine.” The woman repeated once more, the screams in your throat dying down to a pathetic whimper. “Don’t go.”

“Aha…hah…” Was this hysteria? Were you finally beginning to lose it? 

“Don’t scream.” The woman says in a quiet groan, stroking the back of your head. “I missed you.”

“Wh-What…?” You were beginning to wonder if you were losing it, body trembling like a feather as she continued delivering soft and gentle strokes to the back of your head. Was this woman insane?! I mean, she was stalking you and breaking into your house, but perhaps this was the patient that escaped the psychiatric facility…?

“…U-Uhm…can you let me down…?” You ask in a shaky voice, too afraid to scream any more as the knife she had fastened to her jumpsuit paralyzed you with fear. 

“…Okay.”

Sensing that you won’t run away, the tall woman plopped you down like an obedient dog dropping a toy. You were shocked to say the least at how easily she complied, but didn’t want to question it as you stood there, trapped against the wall in nothing but a towel while you stared your house invader down. “…Wh-Why’re you here?” You ask with a bit of reluctance, pulling your towel up so it wouldn’t accidentally drop. 

“…I missed you.” The woman says again, keeping her head down as she stares at you through the eye holes of her mask.

“Well, you can’t just follow me home and break in…” You mumble politely, “It’s illegal…”

“It is?” The woman tilted her head and looked slightly upset. “I’m sorry…” 

Your eyes widened when she suddenly hugged you again, body tensing up as her muscular frame practically engulfed yours. “H-Hey now…” you froze under her grip and felt how easy it was for her to snap you like a twig. “Do you…uhm, have somewhere else to go?” 

The woman shakes her head no. 

“Ah…okay…” you wanted to call the police more than anything, but something in the back of your mind was screaming for you not to. Instead, all that was going on in your mind, was who it was behind the mask. 

“…Can I…see who you are at least?” You ask in a quiet tone, wondering why this random stalker took such a liking to you after all you did was give them a candy. “I want to know…who it is I’m talking to.”

The masked woman pauses at your statement, slowly leaning back and staring at you with those familiar, iridescent eyes. At first, you think she’s mad at you with how quiet she was being all of a sudden, but then you see her hand reach up to pull at the latex of her mask. 

Your breath hitches when the mask slides off to reveal a matured, much older, and familiar face of your childhood friend; Shenhe, who got taken away from you all those years ago. She never changed a bit, and with the way she was looking down at you, you realized you had reunited with her after so many years of disappearance.

“Shenhe…” you breathed out after a moment of silence, eyes trailing over the contours of her face before settling on her eyes. “It’s you?”

She nods at your response, almost excited in a way as she was happy to know you remembered her. “Yes, it is me.” 

She could barely contain herself as she moved forward to hug you once more, spooking you as she lifted you off the ground with ease. Shenhe was always strong as a kid, however; you had no idea she would be this strong as an adult, as she could practically split a man’s skull open like a pumpkin. 

“Oh!” You let out a yelp when she scooped you up in her arms, all fears of a home invader leaving your head, as all you could think about was the fact that your childhood friend was back and wanted to visit you.

“I missed you.” Shenhe repeated against your ear, voice gravelly and rich with the way she purred. “That’s why I escaped.”

“You— You escaped the psychiatric facility?” You mumble in disbelief. “Just to see me again?”

Shenhe nodded like an innocent child, burying her face into your shoulder and inhaling your soft, shampoo-like scent. “I wanted to see what was mine again…”

Your face flushed at those words and you couldn’t help but be reminded of your old, puppy love crush on the woman back when you two were just children. You knew this woman was capable of homicidal tendencies and yet, despite seeing a killer; all you could feel was your friend. 

And you wanted this friend to be yours too.

“…Okay.” You whisper in a shaky tone, hesitantly hugging Shenhe back as she nuzzles her face deeper against your neck, her hot breath tickling the skin of your ear and making it difficult to control the strange arousing feeling beginning to stir in the depth of your core. “I can keep you here for a bit, Shenhe. Just until you can manage on your own.” 

You had no idea why you were doing this, but allowing a killer to stay in your home was not the best idea. Nevertheless, Shenhe was ecstatic and she suddenly leaned in to kiss your cheek out of appreciation for what you were doing. The moment her lips planted on your face, you froze and almost dropped your towel completely out of shock.

“Oh.” Shenhe stopped when your towel moved lower and accidentally revealed your breasts, the tall woman’s face flushing pink at the sight, before glancing away in embarrassment. 

‘Oh…’ your hands quickly pulled the towel back up, yet when you looked up to see Shenhe’s reaction to the accidental flash, you saw her looking away, but also not-so-subtly trying to sneak an extra peak. 

‘Wow, I did not expect Shenhe to be such a closet pervert…’ you thought to yourself, smiling a bit cheekily and laughing to yourself. “Shenhe, it’s okay, we’re both girls. I mean, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“But I haven’t seen it before…” Shenhe mumbles ever so quietly, iridescent eyes slowly taking up your figure. “Your body…is so pretty.”

Aaaaand that’s how she managed to seduce you. All it took was for your pretty childhood best friend to say your body was pretty and bam, your heart began to flutter with newfound feelings for the killer. 

“I could…show you more if you’d like,” you chuckle a bit teasingly, wondering how far Shenhe would push the limits.

“You would?” She looked intrigued and leaned a little forward. “Can I see?” 

Your eyes widened at her boldness, before deciding to see where this goes and chuckling. 

“Alright…” 

As it turns out, Shenhe was a lot bolder than you took her for, as the moment you dropped the towel to reveal your entire body, Shenhe had you pinned against the wall and her lips sucking on your chest. You weren’t sure how you got here, as every second with Shenhe was a blur, but you knew for one thing that you were enjoying it.

“Hah…eager aren’t we?” You teased a bit light-heartedly, groaning a little when Shenhe bit on a nipple. “Nngh…gentle now, Shenhe. You have to be gentle with a woman…”

“‘M sorry…” she mumbles against your chest, trying to kiss your nipple better.

“Hah…it’s okay.” You whisper reassuringly, petting her long, white hair like she was a rabbit. “Is this your first time? I assume it’s not often you sleep with someone in a psych ward…”

She nods hesitantly and hides her face in your chest. 

“Pfft…” you missed this. You missed the feeling of your friend laying on your chest and whispering with you like you were the only two people in the world. “It’s okay…do you want me to guide you?” 

Shenhe nods again. You swear, if it weren’t for the news articles and details of her homicidal tendencies, you would’ve thought Shenhe was the sweetest girl on earth incapable of murder. 

“You’re so sweet…” you murmur into Shenhe’s ear, watching as the tips of her ears turn pink. “Do you wanna go to my bedroom so it’s easier?”

Shenhe shakes her head no, pushing you further against the wall. “I want to touch you here.” She mumbles under her breath. “I want to take you here. I don’t want to move.” 

A jolt of heat pushes through your body and you feel yourself dripping just at how direct she was. For someone so innocent and charming, you really did not expect Shenhe of all people to be so good at dirty talk…

“Aha…are you sure? The floor is kinda hard so it’ll be uncomfortable. I’d say a bed would be better as it— OH!” Shenhe suddenly lifted you up with ease and shoved you against the wall, your legs dangling over her forearms as she pressed her body closer to you. 

Where on earth did she learn this position?!

“Sh-Shenhe, this position—” you flinched as your legs were spread and the bare skin of your cunt brushed against Shenhe’s rough jumpsuit, the position making you blush as you were left vulnerable to whatever Shenhe had in mind for you tonight. 

“…I like this position.” Shenhe said after some time, practically folding you to her liking and leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as you tasted the familiar freshness of peppermint, and realized Shenhe had eaten the mint you had given to her prior to meeting her. ‘So sweet…’ Shenhe couldn’t help but think, trying to shove her tongue in your mouth and taste some more of what your body had to offer. 

“Mmpf…hnn…” your moans were muffled by her tongue and you couldn’t help but close your eyes as she began adjusting your legs to wrap around her waist. Once she had you wrapped firmly around her, Shenhe began to move her hands all over your body, searching, squeezing, trying to find that one spot that would have you whimpering out her name. 

“I want…I want more…” Shenhe pants out like a dog, nudging your legs further as she begins grinding her hips against yours. “Want more…want— n-need more…”

At the sudden grinding sensations you threw your head back and nearly hit your head against the wall. The rough cloth of her jumpsuit moving against you so well it had you writhing in her arms, Shenhe’s brutal ruts making it seem like she was trying to envision herself having a strap, as she was panting rather loudly with the sight of you all naked against her.  

“Sh-Shenhe…I think– hah… it’d be better if you took that jumpsuit off…”

Despite your pathetic pleas, your words fell on deaf ears as poor Shenhe was too caught up in her pleasure to even hear you. You just looked so perfect and pliable for her to maneuver, her feelings of missing you all these years starting to cloud her thoughts, as she leaned in to claim your neck as hers and hers alone. 

“Mine…mine…mine…” you hear her grunt into your ear, teeth grabbing at your skin and pinching it so hard it left a mark. “Shenhe! Gentle, baby. Gentle…” you whimper in a smaller voice, gasping with the amount of hickies she was starting to suck onto you, as it seemed a switch had flipped in your sweet, innocent Shenhe. 

“S-Slow down, please…” you whine into her ear, pulling something feral out of Shenhe as she decided this position wasn’t enough. She needed more. She craved more. 

And you were going to give it to her. 

In one quick motion, Shenhe crouched down for a moment before lifting your legs over her shoulders and having you practically straddle her face. You nearly screamed when she did this, her body keeping you upright as your legs dangled in the air, even higher than you were before. 

“Shenhe this is dangerous what’re you–”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Shenhe began lapping at your clit, her tongue darting out with hunger as she tasted your glistening folds for the very first time. 

“Stay…still…” Shenhe practically growls as she keeps you balanced with just her strength alone. You had no idea how she was capable of such impressive feats, yet you weren’t complaining when her tongue was so wet and (somehow) so experienced.

Or many Shenhe was just really, really horny. Who knows. But either way, you were laying on cloud nine as Shenhe nudged her cold little nose onto the button of your clit. Strong hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs and leaving small nail indents in your skin that would surely leave a mark when you woke up in the morning. 

“Shenhe…Shenhe oh god…” your legs were trembling from the constant pleasure as Shenhe continued thrusting her tongue with insatiable hunger, her face practically glistening with your juices as a sex-drunk expression glazed over her face. 

“More…I want more…” she groans in a huskier tone, practically burying her face into your cunt and drinking up all the cum that was leaking out of you, too pussy drunk to even think. 

“Shenhe please…” you whined as you gripped her hair with your fingers. “Put me down I can’t…I can’t take it anymore…”

“No, you can.” She groans in response to your whining, pushing you further into the wall as she lapped up your sex like it was her last meal. “Just stay still, stay still.”

At her deafening command, you whimpered and let her take the reins as she coursed her tongue through each crevice and corner of your folds. You’ve never heard or seen Shenhe act so possessive before, but the feeling of being all hers, and only hers, had you nearing your orgasm sooner than you expected. 

“Go on…I want to taste it.” Shenhe says rather directly, giving your right thigh a squeeze. “I want to taste you.”

“Shenhe…” you groaned, feeling your stomach tighten. “You— nngh…”

You arched your back off the wall and gripped Shenhe’s shoulders tightly, cum starting to spill down your thighs and onto Shenhe’s awaiting tongue. Eagerly, she lapped up any stray droplets she could catch, savoring the flavor of your release like it was a fine wine she could ever hope to taste again. 

“Goodness…” you panted, catching your breath as Shenhe continued to clean up any traces of cum left on your hips. “Shenhe you…are you sure you’re a virgin?”

She nodded obediently, kissing the inside of your thigh before marking it with her teeth. 

“Oh wow…” you couldn’t help but tiredly laugh, petting Shenhe like the good girl she was and kissing the top of her head. “You’re really good, you know that?” 

Shenhe beamed at the praise and continued kissing the inside of your thighs before setting you down in her arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “I…I can please you more,” she murmurs in a rather pleading way, looking almost like a puppy getting ready to serve their master. “Please let me please you more.”

“Gosh, round two?” You chuckled, clinging to her arms as she brought you to your room. “Ah, why not. I’m sure you have enough stamina to go all night, hm?”

Shenhe nodded eagerly and set you down on your bed, climbing over on top of you before kissing the base of your neck and whispering under your ear. “I can go all night if you want.”

“Really?” You chuckle back in a whisper, bringing her down by the neck and kissing the side of her cheek. “Well, if that’s the case…”

“Happy Halloween, Shenhe.”

#shenhe smut #shenhe x reader #shenhe x you #slasher au #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader #genshin imagines

[shubham2022]

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[octoberclidan]

I Don't Want You to Leave

Request: Can i request Dean or sam Winchester x f!angel reader, where she comes to help him (s3-4 based) and he just gets to attached to her so he purposely gets her to help him, and she ends up staying permanently 💕

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"Angels don't exist", Dean scoffed at the woman who stood in front of him and his brother. She had just single handedly killed three demons; two with a silver blade and one just by touching his forehead. "So I'm gonna ask you one more time, what the hell are you?" He had his gun pointed at her, as did Sam, but she didn't seem phased by them.

"I already told you, I'm an angel". She glanced between the two brothers. "Usually I would've introduced myself as an angel of the Lord, but I no longer wish to be associated with him".

"So what, you're a... a fallen angel?" Sam asked, frowning at her but keeping his aim steady.

"No, not yet at least", she said as she wiped her blade and tucked it into the inside of her coat. "My brothers and sisters don't know that I'm here, and they won't be happy when they find out, so I suggest we go somewhere more private to talk. I'll meet you at your motel room". She vanished in front of them, leaving the two Winchesters extremely confused.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, walking over to the space where she had been standing and waving his hand around in the empty air.

"Did you see how she burned his eyes out with just her touch? And her blade acted just like Ruby's knife", Sam said, lowering his gun. "This is big, Dean".

"It has to be some sort of demon", Dean said. "And it's in our motel room", he shook his head as he began to walk towards the Impala. Sam caught up to him and the two of them got into the car.

"Why are you so convinced that she isn't an angel?" Sam asked as Dean started up the engine.

"Because they don't exist".

"How do you know?"

"How many hunters do you know who've met an angel? Don't you think that if they existed we would know before now?"

"Yeah but Dean.. you made a deal to go to Hell. You literally have two weeks left, so if Hell exists, why not Heaven too? Why do you believe in one and not the other?"

"Demons, Sam!" Dean was getting fed up with him now. Being so close to being dragged to Hell had him on edge too. "We've dealt with demons. We've killed them, we've seen them with our own eyes. We've dealt with Hellhounds, we know Hell exists".

"I'm just saying, maybe have an open mind about it. Maybe she can help, she killed those demons, so maybe she knows a way to undo your deal while keeping me alive too".

"Sam", Dean sighed. "I'm not messing with the deal. If I do something to save myself and it kills you in the process... no. I'm not taking that chance. And neither are you". Dean was firm with his statement. If doing anything to his deal had a chance of undoing it and killing Sam again, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He wouldn't stop until he could find another way to make the same deal again. "We need to find Lilith, Bela told us that she holds the contract to all deals. She's the only one who we can try to end the deal with".

It was only a short drive back to the motel that the boys were staying in. They both had their guns at the ready as they walked into the room. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the sigils that covered the walls, and the woman that was sitting patiently on the bed. "What's all of this?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes trained on her.

"Warding, against angels. I don't want them listening to us. You can put your guns away, they won't hurt me anyway, and I'm not here to hurt you".

"You'll forgive us for being a bit cautious", Dean smiled sarcastically at her, his gun kept pointed straight at her, though Sam let his drop a bit.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sam asked from behind Dean.

"My name is [Y/N], and I am here to help you", she said.

"We don't need your help", Dean snapped at her. "I sure as hell haven't prayed to anything".

"Aren't you scheduled to be dragged to Hell in two weeks? Have you found a way to save yourself?" She asked.

"Wait, you can stop that? You can stop the deal?"

She was about to respond to Sam's question, but Dean cut her off. "Bullshit. We've looked into everything. There is no way to end the deal without risking Sam's life, and I'm not doing that".

"There is", she said, matter-of-factly. "It's not very straightforward, but it's possible. Sam will be in no danger", she assured him. At this stage, Sam had tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, but Dean hadn't moved.

"Why? Why help us?"

"Heaven has a plan for you, Dean. You too, Sam", she looked between the two brothers. "I want to put a stop to their plan, and the only way to do that is to stop you from torturing souls in Hell". She stared at Dean as she said this.

"Torturing souls? Sweetheart, I think the whole idea of me being dragged to Hell is that it will be my soul being tortured, not me doing the torturing". He shifted slightly and readjusted his grip on his gun. "What exactly is Heaven's 'plan' for us? Why are they interested in us?" He had to admit, she'd piqued his interest.

She sighed, and stood up, walking over to the window to glance behind the closed curtain. "You're the first seal", she said. When both brothers raised an eyebrow at her, she continued. "Heaven wants a fight between Lucifer and Michael. It would mean almost certain destruction of this world".

"Lucifer? Michael? As in archangels?" Sam asked and she nodded.

"Yes, Lucifer has been trapped in a cage in Hell for a very long time. He will need to be released in order to fight Michael. In order to release him, a number of seals must be broken. There is one that needs to be broken first, and that is where you come in, Dean", she turned to face fully. "The first seal will be broken when a richeous man sheds blood in Hell".

"Well, there's your problem solved. I wouldn't do that". Dean gave her another sarcastic smile but [Y/N] shook her head at him.

"You would. You're strong, Dean, but time works differently down there. You'd hold on for years, decades even, but eventually even you will break. They'll tear you apart every day, just to build you back up again and start over the next day. They'll torture you tirelessly without a break until you crack. They'll offer you an out; no more torture for you if you become the torturer. You will accept it, it would only be a matter of time".

"Okay, okay, well even if that's true, you said there are a number of seals, so we could just not break the second one".

"It doesn't work like that", she sighed. "It doesn't need to be you who breaks the rest of the seals, they just need you to break the first. There are over 600 different seals, and Lilith only needs to break 65 after the first is broken. You couldn't possibly predict which seals she will go after and when, especially not when the angels in charge want her to break them".

"Lilith?" Sam asked. "We've been trying to track her down to undo Dean's deal".

"She won't undo the deal. She needs Dean to go to Hell to break the first seal". She walked over to Dean and gently lifted her hand to rest on top of his gun. She looked him in the eyes as she lowered his hand, and, surprisingly to Sam, he let her. "Let me help you". He studied her eyes for a long moment, looking for deception, or any sign of ill intent, but he saw only genuineness. He sighed, and looked back to Sam, before shaking his head, almost in a last attempt to shake off the new hope she'd given him, before he looked back at her.

"Fine, but I still don't trust you".

***

"Who are you texting?" Sam asked from opposite Dean in a small diner in the middle of nowhere. They were light on work at the moment and had taken a 'lead' that was literally just a newspaper article about three men who'd gone missing in a town that hadn't had a missing person case in over twenty years. There weren't really that many people to go missing though, the town was tiny.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed, still focused on texting while waiting for his food.

"I asked you who you're texting, you look like you're concentrating very hard", Sam chuckled.

"[Y/N]", Dean said back, almost dismissing Sam like he was a pestering child.

"[Y/N], huh?" Sam smirked and Dean glanced up at his teasing tone just in time to see it.

"Yes, she is an angel, she managed to stop the apocalypse, so maybe, just maybe, she can help us when we're at a dead end".

"Mhmm", Sam nodded, pretending to take his brother seriously. After [Y/N] had saved Dean from his contract with Lilith while keeping Sam safe and stopping Lucifer from escaping in the process, Dean had caved in and finally accepted that she was an angel. He couldn't really deny it after she'd shown off her wings either. He'd been finding reasons to call on her for several weeks now, and Sam had a strong feeling that he liked her for more than just her ability to help them out. She was an angel, she couldn't be killed on werewolf or vampire hunts, ghosts couldn't hurt her, curses didn't affect her. Dean didn't have to worry about her, and that was a first for him. He also didn't have to worry about Sam as much, as [Y/N] never showed any hesitation in healing either of them even though they'd never asked her to.

"Hi Dean", her voice slightly startled the two Winchesters, they still weren't used to her just appearing out of thin air. "Sam", she smiled at Sam before sitting down beside him, looking across the table at Dean who was in the middle of a text message. "I thought it would be more efficient to speak in person".

"Uh, yeah, hey". Dean's cheeks blushed a light pink, and Sam was finding it difficult to disguise his chuckle as a cough.

"There's no case here. The three men who went missing left of their own free will".

"Really? Was it connected somehow?" Sam asked, angling himself to face her.

"Yes... the three men are together. They didn't want the judgement of their families and friends, so they left to find a larger city where they could have some anonymity and live in peace".

"Together... like, together together?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"In a relationship together, yes". She confirmed and Dean whistled, leaning back in his seat, no longer on the job.

"Case closed I guess", he shrugged. "What are you up to? Are you busy?" He asked, trying to sound casual as he attempted to lean his arm on the back of the seat, but ended up awkwardly having to put it down again as he realised the back rest was too high up.

"No, I'm not busy. Since ruining the chances of setting Lucifer free, the angels have lost interest their plans and are just doing their own thing. There's a lot of disorganisation at the moment, a lot of angels are wandering around earth for the first time or exploring other worlds. Luckily there are some who still care for Heaven and the souls that reside there, but I have no purpose anymore".

"That's a bit... depressing. Are you okay?" Sam asked and Dean leaned forward, a look of concern on his face.

"Yes", she said, looking between the two of them. "I'm fine".

"Well... if you're not busy, why don't you stick around? We'll be looking for a new case now, you could help us, work with us", Dean suggested, and she took a moment to think about it. He studied her face as she looked away from both of them, weighing her options. She was pretty, anyone could see that, but there was something else to her. He couldn't explain how, but she looked pure, and good, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her. He didn't realise he'd been subconsciously leaning forward to get closer to her until he lost his balance and had to slam his hand down on the table to stop himself from falling over. Everyone in the diner looked towards them at the noise, and Dean's embarrassment was extremely apparent on his face as he cleared his throat and mumbled something to himself.

"I think what Dean is trying to say, is that he'd like you to stick around more", Sam said, earning himself a kick in the shin under the table from Dean.

"Is that true?" She asked him, and he swore he recognised a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Yeah... just if you want to I mean".

"I would", she nodded, and the conversation fell silent. After a moment, the boys' food arrived at the table and [Y/N] stood up. "I have a few things to take care of, then later I will meet you at your motel room and we can look for a case". Before giving either of them a chance to respond, she was gone.

Dean smiled to himself and started to dig into his food, only looking up to catch Sam smirking again. "What?" Dean mumbled through his full mouth.

"You'd swear you'd never seen a girl before", Sam laughed. "What was that? You were acting like a fourteen year old on his first date".

"Shut up", Dean shook his head at Sam. "She's not a girl". He watched as Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "I just mean she's not a girl that I'd hook up with, you know, like in a bar or something. She's a literal angel, she's not even human, how exactly am I supposed to act around someone like that?"

"I'm just amused that you've gone from calling her something to someone".

"Yeah, well, you'd be hosting Lucifer and I'd be hosting Michael and we'd be fighting each other to the death if it wasn't for her, so I think she's earned the upgrade".

***

After they'd finished their food, they headed back to their motel room to pack up their things and wait for [Y/N]. Sam decided to head out and get some new supplies, since they didn't know how far they'd be travelling for their next case. He left Dean behind with his laptop, giving him strict instructions that it was only to be used for hunting purposes. It wasn't long after Sam left that [Y/N] showed up in the room beside Dean.

"Hi Dean", she said, causing him to jump in his seat slightly, shutting the laptop down a little too hard and little too quickly.

"You have got to start knocking", he said, turning around to face her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to all the various customs", she said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. He didn't know if she noticed how often he blushed around her, or if she just assumed that he permanently had pink cheeks and just hadn't commented on it.

"Well, if you hang around with us more, you'll get the hang of things in no time", he smiled at her. "Uh, we don't really have much here to offer you, unless you want to get take out or something? I don't mind driving somewhere to pick up something if you're hungry".

"I don't need to eat".

"Oh, yeah. I forgot, sorry". The room filled with silence as they sat there looking at each other. Dean wasn't used to being lost for words, or not knowing what to say. He wasn't used to being so nervous around someone.

"When Sam said that you'd like for me to stick around more, is that just on cases? If so, I can come back when you find one", [Y/N] said as she stood up from the bed.

"No", Dean immediately stood up from his chair and took two steps towards here so he could grab her arms, afraid that she would disappear again. "Sorry", he said as he realised what he was doing, and let go of her. "God, Sam was right. I promise you I'm not usually this awkward or weird".

"Why are you so nervous?" She asked as she placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly. He covered her hand with his, and he suddenly felt much calmer.

"Because you make me nervous", he said, looking down at her.

"I don't intend to".

"I know. You just.. you're so different to anyone I've ever known. You're able to heal people, you can teleport, you're so strong and beautiful and you rebelled against everything you'd ever known just to save people when so many of us didn't even deserve it".

"You think my vessel is beautiful, you don't know what my true form looks like. You and Sam deserved to be saved, and so many others too".

"No, it's not just your vessel. I think you're beautiful". He curled his fingers around her hand to hold it, and grabbed her other hand to pull it up to his chest too. "It's the effect you have on me, your desire to help those who need it, to heal, to protect, to fight. I think about those who don't deserve to be saved, you think about those who do. That's what makes me nervous, you're almost too perfect to be real, and I don't deserve someone like you in my life. I'm not good enough to have you, but I don't want you to go anywhere, I don't want you to leave".

She didn't know what to say to him, no one had ever spoken to her like that before. She slowly leaned up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, watching as his eyes closed and he breathed out a sigh of relief. When she stood back down, he opened his eyes and looked down at her again. Before he could risk her disappearing in front of him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, both of them a bit unsure, both of them cautious. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to leave", he repeated.

"I won't. I'll stick around".

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn fluff #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #light angst

[mistydeyes]

the boys during medical residency

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summary: we've seen the boys on the field but how would they deal on the other side of battle: in the medical field?

pairing: none!

warnings: swearing, medical descriptions

a/n: just a lil something something as i'm working on a few requests, wips, and preparing for my hospital rotation on monday!

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price

specialty: general surgery

the long hours or sudden calls don’t get to him bc this man never sleeps

"Price, sorry it's late but-" "I'll be right in"

no one knows how he does it but rumor has it he can be ready and over at the hospital in 20 minutes tops

maybe he's just the king of multitasking

a great educator for his fellow medical professionals and patients

he can make a procedure sound like a walk in the park with his soft smile and reassuring words

in fact, the new intern mistook him for a senior doctor when they first met him

that boosted his ego and made the early mornings even more worth it

once he's in the operating room, he is fully focused and locked in

regardless of the surgeon's choice of music for that day, price is ready to go and immediately steps in when its time

speaking of which, his stitches are textbook, perfectly aligned, high tensile strength, and with no tissue reaction

always has everything prepared for handoff to the night resident

this man is READY to leave once he sees his co-resident enter the ward

he gives the most essential run down (he's just tired, not sloppy) and he gets the hell out of there

soap

specialty: pediatrics

most people think pediatrics are straight forward but actually you need to have some creativity

that’s where soap comes in

a child needs to take a respiratory test but is having trouble? think of it like you’re blowing birthday candles

a child doesn’t understand why they need to have their operation? time to pull out dolls and teddy bears to show how the doctors are gonna make them better

he always shows up no matter how early or late with a smile on his face

easily the kids’ favorite resident (he’s the first person most ask to sign their cast)

hates pre-rounds, he wants to get right in and see the patient's and families for the day

despite this, the other senior and junior residents (even the interns) have to remind him that it is essential to have a plan

when he's finally let loose is able to round, he has a field day walking down the hall

you just know all the attendings and nurses have to keep it a secret that he's working the night shift

or else they'll have a full floor of excited kids waiting to chat when he comes in during rounds

gaz

specialty: physical medicine and rehabilitation

the absolute king of finding resources

he'll whip out a full pdf study guide on spinal cord injury treatment and leave you questioning if he made this or found it online

also has one of those pocket guides that sums up everything you learn in med school

he's always there to help out those in the same boat

has such a steady hand when it comes to injections for spascicity

always has a terrible joke when he sees someone is receiving botulinum toxin

"You're basically receiving a less cool botox treatment"

despite his corny jokes, the residents, especially the geriatric ones, love him

has a friendly demeanor when collecting a patient's history, they simply feel like its a conversation and they'll tell him everything

he loves when people report sport accidents but still say they'll go back to it when they're better

he appreciates the dedication fr

also great at communicating with patient's and giving them detailed instructions to follow before their next visit

but his favorite part of the job? the diversity of the patient's he sees

PM&R is such a unique speciality that you'll see patients with a variety of injuries from all walks of life

this man truly thrives on his adaptability to educate and treat whatever patient the hospital throws to him

ghost

speciality: emergency medicine

sign-out in the morning is always the most awkward with him

as the nurse gives him a run-down of his patients, he'll just stare and occasionally nod to show he's following

"That all?" is his go-to way to end the conversation and actually begin the day's work

despite his quiet demeanor, he'll go through the motions beautifully for any emergency

easily the attending's favorite because he requires no further instruction and keeps a level head given the hectic nature of the room

since he's the attending's favorite, he's the intern's nightmare with his constant stares and the overwhelming presence he gives

"Am I doing something wrong, Simon?" the intern asks as she preps a central line and he just shakes his head, "Personally not how I would do it but go ahead."

this motherfucker

despite this, everyone admits no one deserves the title of "chief resident" more than him

he's not necessarily the best in the "educating others" department but he's sure to give a good explanation if needed

just know he's not happy about it

but if you survive the infamous ghost of the emergency department, you're on the path to success

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #mw3

[ultralightpoe]

Salt the Earth Behind You- Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: I’m back with another Aemond fic.  MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND THE AEMOND TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN SO LET ME KNOW! ENJOY!

Warnings: heavy language, angst, reader is engaged to an old man sadly. 

Word Count: 4052 (Yeahhhh. Buckle in Bitches)

Description: Friendships ruined in moments of anger. 

Part Two : And Let The Blood Bind You 

Salt the earth behind you: To poison any future 

            The soft mud of the earth below the carriage swallows your shoe as you step down from the exit, using your betrothed’s hand as leverage to not fall. This would already be embarrassing enough, you did not need to walk into the throne room caked in mud. 

          Verlain Stark, cousin to Cregan Stark, flashed you a wide smile as he helped you. His hand gripped yours for a second too long before you felt yourself snatching it back, doing your best to keep the easy smile you had glued to your face since the start of the engagement. 

            The man was well over the age of suitor you wanted, three times your own age, but it had been set up by your father. A way to unite his land with the Starks and a way to get rid of his plain daughter all in one go. Who was anyone kidding? Verlain was the only man who would want your hand and you were lucky he could barely see. 

           “I must say, I find it odd that my betrothed and I have to come all the way down here just for the queens approval.” He smiles, leaning in so that you may smell the fresh stench of overly boozed vomit on his breath. “Never had to do that with my first 3 wives.”

              That’s right, Verlain Stark had outlived 3 wives, a surprising feat considering each time he married the younger they got. The first died in childbirth, the babe a stillborn. The second wife jumped from her window. The third…. Well the third had her throat split open in the dead of night. She too was pregnant. 

               “Lady Alicent was very protective of me in my time here, I am very thankful for her care.” You say softly, the collar of your dress digging into your throat. The dresses in Winterfell were far from comfortable and refused to show any skin. 

               It was true, you were thankful for your time at the Red Keep, you just wished it hadn’t ended in such heartbreak for you. 

                      You had been taken in as Queen Alicents ward, out of the kindness of her heart after your dear mother passed away in childbirth, your father having no idea what to do with you. 

                The day you landed in Kings Landing you had been so nervous, clinging to your fathers hand as he pushed you off. You were scared and everyone was staring at you like you were a freak. 

             “Aw. This must be the dearest Y/n….” The Queen gushes, reaching for you softly. “Come little one, you must meet my children. I have a son a year older than you.”

              Within an instant you were surrounded by a group of gorgeous white haired children, all circling you.  “Children, this is Lady Y/n. She is to be taken in as my ward. Aegon! Hands off!”

             The tallest of the three snatches his hand back with an eye roll, sauntering off. The girl barely says a word before going back to her insects. That left the shorter boy, standing there with his hands behind his back, waiting for his mother to introduce him patiently. 

             “Y/n, this is my youngest…. Aemond.” She smiles, leaving to discuss some matters with your father. You stood as straight as possible, afraid to make the wrong move and anger someone.  

             “You can breathe you know,” The boy chuckles, imitating a deep breath in to make you imitate it. 

                “You’re a Targaryen.” You say softly, desperate to start a conversation only to feel like a fool the second the words fall from your lips. “I mean, that was blatant, everyone knows that. I apologize for stating the obvious, my prince.” 

               “I don’t have a dragon if that is what you meant.” He sneers, eyes narrowing. 

             “What does it matter if you have a dragon?” You ask, hands clenched together in anxiety. “I…I apologize if I have offended you..” 

               You picked up your skirts and rush to your maid as quick as possible, desperate for the comfort of someone you knew. 

               “Come, Lady Y/n.” Verlain calls, getting one of his men to shove you forward as you had been stuck in your head. “Your father is quite persistent on seeing you before our meeting with the King and Queen.” 

              You nod and turn to your maid, who had been glaring at the soldier that shoved you forward in your honor, she instantly grabs your arm and leads you to where your old rooms had been while you stayed here some time ago. 

               “You must stop biting your lip Lady Y/n,” She whispers as you blush. “It is unseemly for a lady to bleed. The lord should think you disgusting.” 

               You fight the urge to roll your eyes at that, heavens above you seem disgusting to that old man. 

               You’re caught off guard by a feeling on the back of your neck, your spine going tense. “He’s here….”

                It had been an odd gift, the ability to sense whenever Aemond Targaryen was near you, but it had come in handy. 

                “Who is, my lady?” Your maid leans forward as you snatch her hand and drag her away from the courtyard, desperate to escape him. 

               Aemond seemed to not care that you offended him on your first meeting, for he soon became your best friend. 

             You spent every afternoon together after that first day. You would listen about his day at the dragonpit, listen to him talk about all the different sorts of dragons. He would bring you books, stolen from the royal library and would ask you about them constantly. 

           Within weeks you found yourself craving his attention, always looking for him in a crowd of people and always searching for him at parties. 

          “Lady Y/n!” He calls, running down the hall covered in black smoke. “I came close to a dragon today. A FULLY GROWN DRAGON!”

              Your entire body was locked up with dread as Aemond barged between you and the male you had been introduced to that morning. “Prince Aem-”

              You tried to stop the prince as the older man stared down at you with a glare. “Prince Aemond, this is Lord Henric….. He is meeting me as a suitor today.”

               “This old man?” He snaps, eyes so wide you have to stop yourself from laughing. “No. Come on. We will be talking with my mother.”

             He left no room for argument, grabbing your arm and storming off. Your maid, who had been there as a chaperone, follows closely with a shocked expression. 

                  Once you escape the hall you tear your arm away, tears pouring from your eyes. “You fool!”

                He looks taken aback for a moment before reaching for your arm once more, you take two steps back. “Aemond! I have been here for 2 years! Your mother, kind as she is, will not take me as a ward much longer.”

                 “What are you talking about?”

                   “I’m plain!” You snap. “My father says it, everyone else knows it. I am a plain and boring girl with no redeemable qualities that would help me score a match. Your mother is doing her best to obtain me a match before any of these men realize just how ugly I am and here you come ruining it!”

              The anger written on his face is actually terrifying as steps closer. “You are not plain! Your father has no idea what he is speaking about! And if he were here I would carve out his tongue.”

                You don’t respond, sobbing as you turn to walk away from him, hands shaking as you think on how disappointed the Queen will be once she realizes the suitor would not propose. 

               “Y/n.” Aemond calls desperately, chasing after you. “We will find you a suitor. Once that isn’t two steps from death. I swear it. I swear it on my grave and any future dragon I might claim.” 

                “Your betrothed is quite…….” You try not to laugh as your maid tries to come up with the proper term for the older man. 

              He had talked the entire journey, and whereas you had to pretend to be interested in an effort to keep his attention your maid was miserable. The poor chaperone. 

                “He is…. Talkative.” You nod, heat traveling your body as you tug at the overly warm dress. “But I can't risk another suitor mishap. This is my last chance. My father has run out of patience.”

             Not that he ever had patience to begin with, he was constantly angered by his ‘plain daughter’.  

               “Would you like to change into a more comfortable dress, my lady?”

                “No. I have none. I must wear Winterfell dresses, to show my allegiance.” You sigh, walking away from her to prepare to see your father before you face the queen. 

                 “Aegon says you love me.” Aemond blurts one day, walking with you in the gardens. You freeze, whipping to look at him, having just been caught. 

“W-what?” 

              “He says you look at me with a fucked out puppy eyed look.” Aemond sighs, turning to see where you had stopped walking.  “What’s wrong? He only said it to me, I would never let him spill such vile accusations to another.”

                 You wanted to laugh at his answer, as if that was the biggest problem right now. “Prince Aemond-”

             “Please don’t.” He stops you.  “I cannot suffer that today Lady Y/n….”

              You are embarrassed, truly. Of course he didn’t want to hear your stupid confession. He was a Targaryen and you were a plain ward. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

             He nods, moving to keep walking with you through the gardens some more. 

                Your dress was far too tight, and the headpiece braided into your hair was way too heavy on your head, the veil swinging back and forth with every movement. 

               A black veil, and a grey dress. You looked like the lady death, most people would laugh but you were trying to seem interested in the Stark world. Even if the thought of living in the land of winter sounded absolutely miserable. 

               “You look…..decent, daughter” Your father greets, avoiding your gaze as me moves to greet your betrothed, a smile spreading onto his features. 

                Bile rises in your throat as embarrassment fills you. How plain and disappointing were you really?

            You held onto Aemonds hand on the boat, watching Aegon and Helaena ride above you on their dragons. He grasps your hand tightly as you flinch at a wave of wind that hit you when Aegon flew too close. 

             “When I get a dragon you’ll have to get used to them.” He laughs, watching you swallow in worry. “You’ll be riding the dragon with me.” 

            “I don’t think that would be allowed, My prince.” You blush, fighting the smile threatening to unfold.  

           “I’m the prince. I would make it allowed.” He argues, bringing you closer. “Now read to me, take my attention off the death of my cousin.”

             You opened your book once more, reading to him softly as you made your way to the funeral of Laena Velayron. 

                  Your hands shook as you made your way to the throne room, sweat covering every inch of your body while you looked dead ahead, following your betrothed. 

                  You felt like you were about to throw up, which would for sure ruin any chance at marriage with the Lord. 

               “Keep it together” You whisper to yourself, tears threatening to spill the closer you get to the throne room. “You musn’t mess this up.”

            You awoke to the heavy sound of a dragon taking off, larger than Aegons or Helaenas. Jumping off your bed and running to the window, expecting to see Syrax or Caraxes you see Vhagar taking off into the clouds. 

            Your heart jumps through your throat, excitement to go find Aemond and tell him you had just witnessed the biggest dragon in the world take off. Slipping on your sleeping shoes and taking off through the halls of Driftmark, desperate to find Aemond. 

                  You find him in the tunnels of Driftmark, air a mess and tunic distorted, a wild look in his eyes. It took you a moment to realize what had happened, panic clawing at your throat. 

“Y/n! You will never believe -”

“Aemond….. What have you done?” You whisper, watching as his face falls. 

          “It’s you!” Baela snaps from behind you, the group of them shoving you aside as they face Aemond. 

           He watched you fall to the ground before turning to the four of them. “It’s me.”

             “Vhagar is my mothers dragon!”

             “Your mother’s dead.” Aemond states calmly. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“She was mine to claim!” 

             “Then you should have claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” He smirks, not bothering to make sure you got up. 

              Within moments the girl was running up, hitting him, to which your bestfriends snaps back harshly. Then the brawl insued. 

                  All four of them against him, but Aemond held his own for a moment, as you tried pushing through to help. When Jace pulled the knife he slashed your hand and wrist to move you out of the way, a scream tearing through your throat as he slashed up Aemonds face. 

              Aemond bellowed in pain, hands flying up to his face as his blood flew. You instantly reach to help him, the blood from your hand mixing with his own as you cling to him. 

             Screaming for help as he tried to pull away from you. 

               The scar on your arm, left from the night Vhagar had been claimed, itched terribly under the fur of the dress you now wore. You fought the urge to fidget as your father introduced the courtship to the Queen, who had taken to sit on the throne instead of standing by it. 

                  To the left of the throne stood her three children, all older in age and all still exceptionally beautiful. Aemond, now with an eyepatch and death glare, had not taken his eyes off your figure upon entering. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t see your face with the veil over it, a proper respect to your betrothed. 

               Alicent seemed hesitant upon looking at you, a twist in her eyebrows told her she was doing her best to see through the veil to look upon you. 

               “We are very grateful that Lord Verlain had asked for my daughters hand in marriage, and hope that the crown will permit it-” Your father states, kneeling with his head bowed. You were kneeling behind him, right next to the old man who seemed to have struggled getting into his knees for the Queen. 

            “As they permitted his first…. How many was it?” Aemond starts, a dark tone to his voice. “Three marriages?” 

              “Aemond.” The queen corrects him, casting a look to where he stood. 

              “I’ve never actually had to come and get permission.” Verlain laughs, still struggling in the position he was in. “I found it quite odd myself, considering my first wives weren’t so……plain. Yet this one drew the attention of the crown.”

           Plain. There that word was again.   The only word you’ve ever really heard to describe you…. That and the ones Aemond screamed at you that night. 

             “YOU DID NOTHING!” Aemond screams, shoving you slightly as your eyes well up in tears. 

                 You had come to check on him, desperate to make sure he was okay. You hadn’t been allowed into the room as he got his stitches, sent to your rooms immediately so the family may deal with their private matters. 

                “Aemond….they didn’t let me in with you. I swear it.” You defend, taking a step closer, desperate to touch him. His face was swollen and red.

                “That is not what I am talking about and you know it! You insufferable bitch!” He shouts and you rear back. “You let them do this to me! You are against me!”

“I’m not! Aemond I swear it!”

“I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID WHEN I WENT TO TELL YOU ABOUT VHAGAR!”

“I was shocked-”

“Then you let them do this to me!”

“I tried to stop it-”

“WHO WILL WANT ME NOW?!”

“What do you mean?”

                “Who will want to marry me now?! No one is able to look at me!” He sobs and you try to contain your sobs. 

                   “I…… I would.” You whisper, the sudden braveness shocking you. 

             “I’m sorry?” 

              “I…. I would marry you Aemond.” You say, a little louder. 

            He stares at you for a moment, shock written on his features before his face molds into anger, a dry laugh escaping him. “You?......YOU?”

              You take a step back, throat tightening as the tears fall freely now. Aemond is quick to notice the weakness, taking advantage. 

                 “Is that what I’m stuck with now? The plain cunt that let them maim me?” He steps forward and you take another step back. “I’m ugly…. But even then you would not be of my standard. A lowborn, boring, fucktoy.” 

              You can’t hear anymore, rushing past him to run back to your rooms, sobbing aggressively. 

                  Your maid cleans the wound, humming softly to ease your sobs as she does so. The next morning you sit by yourself on the ship, the queen and king hidden in the alcove as you are exposed to the wind of the sea surrounded by the crewman. 

                   Aemond flies over the ship, followed by his two siblings. All the dragons roar loudly as you turn away, tears falling as you stifle the sobs. 

            “What a charming way to describe your future wife-” Aemond snaps, taking a quick step forward only to be stopped by the hand, who also happened to be his grandfather. 

             You tried not to scoff at the comment, as if he hadn’t said worse to you. 

                 “I must say…. It has been so so long since I’ve gotten to see your face my dearest Y/n….”Alicent says softly, leaning forward. “Might you bless us by lifting your veil?”

                      Your shoulders tense as you nod slowly, moving to lift the veil up. Your hands shook as you pulled it back, finally coming face to face with the royal family. 

              You hear a soft gasp and turn to see Aemond staring at you, eye wide as his back straightens. 

               You whip your head away, turning back to the queen who is already staring at you. 

                    “Y/n…..” She says softly, staring at you as you shake in fear in front of her. 

                     “I’M SO SORRY YOUR MAJESTY!” You sob, falling to the rug beneath you, shaking from fear. 

               Things had been different since you got back, especially with the queen. She had been silent for 3 weeks, constantly biting at her nails and muttering about fairness. 

             You had avoided Aemond like the plague, every time you catch sight of him you would turn the opposite direction.His siblings would take his side so they were out of the question and everyone else at the court treated you like you were a peasant. 

You were lonely, and tired. 

                  You hadn’t spoken to anyone but your maid in awhile. Which led you to go to the queen, begging for her to let you go home. Begging. 

               She smiles at you, standing from the throne and coming down the steps, grabbing both sides of your face lovingly. “There you are….”

              “It is an honor to see you again, your majesty.” You whisper, trying not to bite at your lip. 

        “It is quite a pain to have to say bye to my old ward, I’m sure you understand Lord Verlain.” She chuckles, turning to the man. “You must give me time to see more of the union before I give my blessings.”

              “I understand completely, your majesty.” He snipes, his entire posture telling that he was lying. 

                “We shall feast with you tonight! It is settled.” She claps, walking away. 

             You move to help your betrothed stand, avoiding a look to the royal children as he shoves you back the second he stands.  “I’m beginning to debate if you are worth it, child.”

               He storms off, your father hissing at you as he chases after the man to ease the tension. You move to follow, hands clenching in fear as you imagine him calling off the engagement.

               “Wait! Lady Y/n!” You hear from behind you, the sound of steps quickly following your own.  “Please wait.”

                  You don’t turn, but you do wait, standing still as he walks up. The prince stands behind you for a moment before realizing that you would not be turning or looking up. 

                     He bends down to meet your gaze, walking around until he was in front of you. “I must say, you have grown.”

              “So have you, my prince.” You say softly, avoiding his gaze as he struggles to find it. “If you would excuse me, I should really go check on my-”

               “May I escort you through a walk in the gardens?” He interrupts, jaw clenched as he holds his elbow out. 

               You really have no choice, to refuse the prince would be an insult. So instead of speaking, you simply nod and grab his extended elbow for him to lead you to the gardens. 

                  You don’t say a word as you fix your veil, so that you wouldn’t have to look at him, following his lead. 

                 “D-do….do you remember all our times in the gardens?” He asks, a nervous tone filling the air as he clears his throat. 

                  “I do indeed, My Prince.” You state simply, jumping a little when his other hand reaches up to hold yours where it was placed in his elbow. When you go to pull away his hand grips onto yours a little tighter, interlocking your fingers with his.

              “Tell me about all the books you’ve been reading.” He demands, sounding excited for a moment, waiting patiently. 

                       “I….. I actually….. I haven’t read in some time.” You admit. “It is not suitable for a young women to waste her time-”

          “Says. Who.” He snaps, stopping you from walking. 

                   “I’m a woman now, Prince Aemond. I must, to procure a future, focus on things that would help that future.” Your voice is tense, fighting the urge to cry as you struggle to pull your hand away. But he doesn’t let you, instead pulling your hand to sit flat on his chest.  “Aemond please…. Someone could think this unseemly.”

                   “Finally, my fucking name without that stupid title.” He laughs, reaching the hand that wasn’t holding yours up to snatch the veil off of you. “And there she is… finally.”

                  You stay quiet as you move to walk away, trying to escape, but he pulls you back aggressively.

               “What do I have to do?” He snaps, jaw tensing. “To get you to speak to me-”

“I am speaking to you-”

                    “Y/n please!” He tugs you to the side, away from the chance of anyone seeing you both argue. “Please.. I haven’t seen you in years-”

“I needed to go home-”

                       “You avoided me after that night, I tried to talk to you but you always disappeared out of my sight-” 

              “I WONDER WHY AEMOND!” You scream, shoving him away. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

                 “Ruin what? You would have to have something to actually ruin.”

              “You know what I mean.”

               “Don’t do this. This is not….. He. Will. Kill. You.”

               You scoff, turning to rush away but he is quick to dive in front of you. “I have known you since we were children and I know that you are not foolish enough to marry a man with THREE DEAD WIVES!”

“Stop.”

                “You don’t read. You haven’t smiled. You…… You look two steps away from jumping out a tower like his second wife. And I refuse to let that happen.” He snarls, eye wild as he leans in. “I refuse to lose you like that.”

              “Leave me alone Aemond.” You seethe, shoving him back. “This is my job. Remember? To be the boring little fucktoy? So. Let. Me. Be.” 

                You rush away from him, breathing heavy as the tears fall again, the scar on your arm burning. 

                  Aemond watches you go, the veil he had torn away from you clutched tightly in his hand.

Should I do another part?

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#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #House of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner (4) - Azriel

I didn't mean to make it this long, but I hope you liked it! There will be a fifth and final part, I think. You guys wanted to forgive Azriel so I needed to show you what happened. Be careful with the tags!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: after the damage has been done, Azriel finds his brothers ready to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: prepare a second tissue box. Also, mental health issues - our boy has been through a lot and doesn't talk kindly about himself.

Cassian only remembered a few big arguments between Azriel and him. While Rhysand had headbutted with the general at the beginning, Cassian and Azriel’s relationship had been natural. The first one was loud, abundant and had a deep, burning need of someone understanding his pain. The shadowsinger was the complete opposite, and they had instantly connected.

Their biggest argument so far, that had brought them apart for almost ten years, had been when Rhys disappeared under the mountain. Cassian had gathered an army and was ready to march on Amarantha when Azriel stopped him. At the moment, he had felt betrayed by his brother, frustrated and furious.

But even if it had taken him ten years, they had worked their way around it.

Before Rhysand winnowed them away, Cassian was ready to start the second, biggest argument of their relationship. Even if he tried to hide it, the general still had abandonment and trust issues, and that his brother had hid something so important from him, that hadn’t trusted him with something so precious for an Illyrian male, broke his heart.

He was ready for the argument, but wasn’t ready for Azriel’s cries.

The cabin was filled with shadows, that moved frantically around. The shadowsinger had lost control of his powers a very, very few occasions, never relying on his emotions. But when Rhysand and Cassian appeared in the cabin, the high lord had to create a barrier between them and the shadows to protect themselves.

“Brother” Cassian whispered when the shadows started to let go, enough to see Azriel curled in the couch.

“Azriel, what’s wrong?” Rhysand was by his side the second he was let through, a hand on his shoulder. The shadowsinger barely acknowledge them. “Damn it. You’re freezing”

“I’ll turn on the fire”

“And bring a blanket” Rhysand called out as Cassian started moving.

It was muscle memory, after so long. After so many nights where either of them came battered to the cabin and Rhysand’s mother would take care of them. In silence, Cassian moved around the familiar space, turning on candles and searching for clothes.

Meanwhile, Rhysand used his powers to get into Azriel’s mind. Instead of prying into his memories, to rip away whatever was causing him pain, his friend helped him to rebuild his mental wards.

The high lord managed to make him sit up, enough so he could fall back against Rhysand’s shoulder and the male could hug his friend. The sobs quieted down and the shadows disappeared, apparently happy someone was taking care of their master for now.

Cassian stared at them for a moment, torn between the need to comfort and to hurt. To comfort Azriel as he had comforted him so many times in the past, to be there for him and apologize to any feelings he had felt during the last hours. But also, to search for the source of that pain and tear it down to pieces.

Years of living with him had taught him to be patient, so he ended up sitting on the other side of Azriel, tossing a pair of trousers and a sweater on his lap.

“Come on, try to stand up”

In silence, between Cassian and Rhysand, they managed to put some clothes on the shadowsinger. Azriel was quiet all the time, with his gaze lost in the fire. Every now and then, his knees would buck down and he would hitch a sob. But each time, there were his two friends, ready to catch him and steady him.

It felt as if nothing had changed for a moment, as if it was Cassian beaten to a pulp after a bad fight or Azriel having panic attacks when the lights came off. So many times in the past had they been in that situation.

When they finished, they ended up sitting in the couch. Now, they were bigger, wider, and nothing similar to the scrawny boys that huddled together when no one else wanted them. The couch felt ridiculously small, yet they managed to fit just fine.

It took Azriel a while to talk, and they didn’t pressure him.

“I have a mate” he admitted.

Through the haze of sorrow and sadness, of not knowing if the bond would hold on for much longer now that you had realized what had been going on, Azriel didn’t feel any different. He had imagined himself saying it a lot of times, presenting you to his family – with good and bad outcomes. And it had made him nervous, wary, enough that he had decided against it.

As he confessed it to his brothers, his family, he felt no different.

And hated himself just a little bit more.

“Did they… do this?” Cassian asked carefully, feeling how Azriel’s body tensed under his arm. “They hurt you?”

“No”

Rhysand willed himself to stay calm and respect his privacy, but he wanted nothing more than to answer Cassian’s silent call to barge in his mind and solve whatever was happening.

“Her name is Y/N” he added, his eyes filling with tears once more. “She… The bond snapped six years ago. I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so bad”

“Y/N” Rhysand repeated, trying to remember if he had heard your name before.

“Six years?” Cassian looked between Rhysand and Azriel. “That… can’t be. Six years?”

“I fucked up”

Azriel’s voice broke once more, and between sobs and hitched breaths, he managed to explain what had happened. He let it free from his chest, hoping it would make him feel better, but it didn’t. It only made him realize, once more, how fucked up he was.

Without interrupting, Cassian and Rhysand listened to the story of that pointless mission that took him right to your door, where he was supposed to ask you about a male’s disappearance. About the moment he felt the bond in chest, in his soul, and how he had run away and avoided you.

They listened as he broke when he talked about that day you had invited him over, ready to accept the bond, and how he had faked to be confident. He didn’t mean to disappoint you, so when you had asked with so much hope if that was what he wanted, he had said yes, even if part of him knew he wasn’t ready.

Azriel described how, during the following weeks, he had confused the happiness from finally being together, with no interruptions, with the usual high of mates accepting the bond. How he had realized later that it wasn’t normal the fear and anguish he felt after he left your apartment, and how without meaning to or knowing how, he hadn’t accepted your imprint on him.

“That’s why we haven’t noticed” the high lord said, taking it all in. His brother’s story, his hurt and pain.

“What were you afraid of?” Cassian almost cut him off, bursting out the question both of them wondered about. “We are your family, Az. You should know we will accept you no matter what. And a mate… that’s something wonderful”

“Because I don’t deserve her” Azriel finally looked up to Cassian, and his friend was taken aback at the emotions in his eyes. “She’s soft, and beautiful, and the worst thing she can do is squish a spider without wanting to”

“Azriel, that’s not – “

“It is. You should see her, Rhys” he cut him off, turning to look at him. “Y/N is… different. The Cauldron must have made a mistake, because she’s everything I’m not. And I don’t deserve her”

Azriel tried to let Rhysand know why he didn’t deserve you. Why, every time he thought about bringing you into his life and letting you know the spy master, it broke his heart a little. He wanted to keep you safe, away from anything that could stain you the way he was stained. And he had thought, apparently, that he could get away with it.

Feyre poked at his mental barriers softly, wondering what was happening. After sending a comforting message through the bond, Rhysand returned Azriel’s look with a different type of conviction.

“I don’t know her, and I would love to” Rhysand told him, giving him a soft smile. “But brother, I know that whoever gets to be your mate, to share their life with you, has been blessed by the Cauldron. Your family didn’t see you the way we do, the way she does. And what they did – that isn’t what you have to expect any time someone gets close to you”

“My family isn’t the problem here” he tried to excuse himself, but the high lord could see the truth in his eyes.

“It is. You’re afraid to committing yourself to the bond because you fear she will break it. Because your family broke your trust. And then you thought you had that with Mor, and – “

“Don’t go there” Azriel warned him. “Don’t read me”

“I don’t have to read you. I know you”

“Az, you… deserve a mating bond” Cassian spoke finally. “Everything you have been through isn’t your excuse to reject it, it’s the reason you finally have something good”

Azriel wasn’t ready to talk about it. He had never been ready to talk about how he had felt when his brothers, the people he looked up to, tortured him as a game. He hadn’t shared with them yet how hard had it been to know he was a mere observer of his family life, locked away in a dungeon and treated like a dog.

And the feeling of not belonging, of having a safe place sabotaged, had only grown each time he watched Mor from the distance with someone else.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it, but he understood, that he had to.

“I feel like it’s all a dream. As if I’m watching my own life unfold from the distance, like a good movie. Whenever I’m not with her, I have this… thing” he explained, opening his broken heart to his brothers. “Like I’m a fraud”

“You’re not a fraud” Cassian corrected him quickly, barely standing his brother’s self-depreciating speech.

“I am. I pretend I have it all together but I’m so afraid” he swallowed hard at the end, skipping a breath. Azriel ran a shaky hand through his hair, and his brothers only held him stronger. “Sometimes I think about… our future, about her with me, and I feel like drowning because what if she – what if she stops loving me? I can’t handle – She’s all I have, all I want. I love her so, so much. I can’t – “

That time, both males were ready when Azriel tried to fold into himself again, shadows shifting anxiously and turning off a few candles. They were ready to keep him up straight and, somehow, holding him together as he broke apart once more.

Azriel needed help, and his family was more than ready to finally walk him through it.

-

You didn’t know what breaking a mating bond meant, or if that was even possible. If the feeling of your chest at any hour was the void of Azriel’s bond or if it was just your imagination. Either way, you had never experienced such a pain.

Barely able to leave the bed, you had been forced to close the bakery. Not permanently, you told yourself, just until you had it all together once more. Even if you didn’t know what that meant.

The day after Azriel left was spent grieving, and thankfully, you had his shadows to help you around. You managed to make it to the bed, to slide the curtains shuts and cry in peace without breaking your back along with your heart.

A day turned into two, then into three. Before you knew it, it had been a week and you weren’t any better.

You had tried to find an explanation, to comfort yourself in the happy memories or forget the past events. But your mind brought you back to the horrible realization that he didn’t want you. That Azriel didn’t love you the way you did.

You were understanding, you had always been. A smile on your face, gentle hands and loving words. That was what you were, a kind soul, your friends told you. Never through a tragedy other than losing your wings, always loved and taken care of.

Azriel had taken it all away in just one night.

The first note came from Feyre, although it wasn’t the last one. Even if you ignored them, you received those same notes that had uncovered the truth during the whole week.

Hello, Y/N. It’s Feyre, do you remember me? I have my art studio in front of your bakery. I’ve noticed that the bakery is closed, some of your usual customers even came to ask me about it. Everything alright?

Hi, Feyre here. Should have told you in the previous note that I’ve heard about you and Azriel from Rhysand. I’m here if you want to talk.

It’s Feyre again. I’ve seen the new sign about you taking a few days off. I hope everything is fine.

I hope it doesn’t bother you, but my friend Mor has been begging me for days to let her write you a message.

Hey, it’s Morrighan. We don’t know each other, but I fixed your necklace once. We heard about your thing with Azriel. Just wanted to say that part of it it’s my fault, that I haven’t treated him right in a long time, and many of his insecurities are because of me. So, I guess I’m partly the one to blame and I’m sorry. And you should know how miserable he is without you.

Y/N. I’m Cassian. Hi. How are you?

Dear Y/N, we were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner on Friday night. Greetings, Rhysand.

You ignored each and every note they sent you, even the ones carefully delivered by Azriel’s shadows. You expected them to leave, and part of you wanted them to do so and forget everything that reminded you of him. But they stayed for the whole week, bringing you food and taking care of your wellbeing. And the other part of you, the irrational one, liked the pain of the familiarity they brough.

They even helped you prepare a bath when you decided to be functional again. On Saturday’s morning, you changed the sheets, prepared the laundry and ventilated the room. You tossed out every dirty tissue and food container you had accumulated as if something had possessed you to do so. Then, you took a bath and cleaned carefully every part of your body.

It reminded you of cleaning Azriel’s wings and hair, of taking baths together, and you ended up crying naked in the bathtub until the water was cold. It took you half of the day to be decent enough to even wonder if you were ready to open the bakery once more.

Not that you were able, because there was a knock on your door and you just knew who was outside.

“It’s Azriel”

His voice was muffled because of the distance, but you heard the roughness. You froze on the kitchen, where you had been having your silent debate, and your heart sped up.

None of the notes were his, not even a casual flick through the bond that kept you communicated through long missions. If it wasn’t for the range of emotions you had felt during the last days, some of them similar to yours but not quite, you would have thought he had disappeared.

But there he was, just behind your door. Some shadows slipped through the bottom, tangling between your legs. The cold feeling was different from the one the usuals left, and you realized they were panicked shadows.

Azriel had mentioned you that his emotions controlled his powers if he wasn’t careful, and that the shadows went and came with them.

The new shadows tried to push you to the door, and like a rag doll, you let them complete the small path. They disappeared once more under the door, only to appear again when you didn’t open it.

“Hi” Azriel croaked out, only the wood in between. “I’m sorry. They appeared a week ago and I can’t control them yet. I’m sorry”

“They’re colder”

Your sore throat matched the tone of his voice. It wasn’t more than a whisper, a useless fact that you knew Azriel already noticed. But still, you felt the need to mention it. There was no anger left, no deception. Just the feeling of the new shadows caressing your skin frantically.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open the door and face him again, because you knew you wouldn’t forgive him. There was a pending talk between the two of you, missing explanations. You wanted to understand what had happened during the last six years, and he deserved to know what he had put you through.

Instead of asking you to open the door, you heard him shift on his feet and flap his wings.

“Yeah. And smaller” he agreed. “Um, I tried to get rid of them. Are they… bothering you?”

Am I bothering you?

“No. Not yet”

No, you aren’t. Not yet.

“Right”

It was almost comical to watch the shadows move around you. You hadn’t noticed the single tear that escaped, but they did – and in a moment you were blinded as they all tried to wipe it out at the same time. They made you take a step backward and almost stumble to the ground.

You had never seen too much of Azriel’s shadows, of his power. Apart from the single ones that danced around you and kept you company, you had never met the real shadowsinger. All the stories around him felt strange, property of someone else rather than your mate.

Azriel must have heard you move, or gasp, or maybe the shadows told him. He placed a hand on the door.

“Are you okay? I should go back. I’m sorry. I can’t make them – “

“They feel different too” you comment, enchanted by the shadows moving in your line of sight.

They were dark, and you shouldn’t have been able to see anything. But in the darkness, you could somehow guess their shapes. Some of them were smaller, bigger, thinner and wider. They weren’t like the formal, perfect ones Azriel usually wielded around you. They felt raw.

It took him a while to answer, and you waited patiently for his answer. You didn’t expect anything from that conversation, weren’t even sure what the conversation was about. Just hearing his voice felt at the same time as a punishment and a reward.

Still, he surprised you.

“Madja says they are the original shadows, the ones that should have been around since the begging” Azriel confessed, his nails scratching the door. “The ones… She says I was so scared of my own power that I locked it in a cage as a child and created just a shadow of the real one. Which I could control and… understand.”

“Madja the healer?” you blinked, still surrounded by his shadows. “Why are you – are you hurt? What happened?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean, unharmed. I’m not hurt” he chuckled humorlessly. “She’s been helping me with other things”

“Like what?”

You didn’t know where it came from, but there was an urgent edge on your voice that kept you alert. You knew Madja, had seen her help Azriel after any nasty mission. He had even told you about getting rid of your scars with her help.

Her name brought the already familiar pain – that you knew about her because she was important for Azriel, but she didn’t know about you because you weren’t that important for him. You waited in silence until he decided to talk again. When he did, you could tell he was close to tears.

“I’m not okay. It has taken me too long to figure it out, and it has costed me what I love the most in the world, but I’m not. I… am afraid, all the time” he started. “I am afraid that you will see my true self, what I am in the dark, and hate me the way I hate it. I’m afraid that you will figure out what made my family despite me, toss me aside, and decide to do the same. Or that you realize that I’m not a good mate, and be too kind to tell me and live trapped in a lie”

Feelings wasn’t something you usually shared with Azriel. You were the sensible one, the emotional mate. Who talked about something that made you happy or sad, that expressed your fears knowing he would be there for you no matter what. But not once in your six years you had heard about his.

Each word dug a hole in your chest, from your own feelings or his. The shadows eased enough to let you take a step forward. As if there was an invisible hand printed out, you put your hand where his was on the other side of the door.

“I am terrified to hurt you without meaning to, or to not be what you need. All the time. I’ve… created a routine, apparently, to give myself a sense of false confidence. To build a reality” Azriel stopped to catch his breath. “You’ve shaken that reality where I just… survived, and I thought I could continue pretending everything was fine. It’s not. It’s all so fucking wrong in my head”

Your own eyes were filled with tears by then, ready to fall on your knees. Because, what were you supposed to do now? You wished you could just forget about the past week, about his words – because you had just accepted that he was okay, had missed any signal that he was struggling.

And that made you feel almost as bad as him not accepting the bond.

“So I’m gonna get right, I’ve been getting help” your mate finished, taking a deep breath. “And then we… I love you, Y/N. I don’t have much to offer, but everything I am and have, is yours. When I’m okay, I promise, I will make things right. I promise”

Before you could answer, his shadows disappeared and Azriel winnowed away.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3

#azriel #cassian #rhysand #x reader #acotar #imaginemai #imaginesmai #imagine mai #imagines mai #imagine #fic #one shot #fanfic #right around the corner #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel fic #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar imagine #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fic #acotar fanfic

[bby-deerling]

happy accident (law x reader)

law runs into a familiar face :)

wc: 1.5k masterlist || commissions

cw: fluff, slight angst (in past), reader has an abusive parent, can be read as either platonic or the start of something more :)

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @sanjisprincesswifey @ragethebunny @kaizokuniichan @mirillua @cloudzoro @risenwrites @atanukileaf

Swirling in apprehension, Law isn’t quite sure how to approach you.  Years spent apart had changed you less than he had expected them to; your jaw was sharper, your posture more askew, and the deep purple rings underneath your eyes were even more pronounced than his—and yet, Law thinks, he finds you softer.  The hair that frames your face curls inward and is no longer jagged and choppy, the black in your wardrobe had evidently been replaced with creams and tans and small floral prints, and the edge that had been imbued in each of your carefully selected words no longer emanated from your being.

When he had met you all those years ago in a rural North Blue doctor’s office, you were determined, stubborn to a fault as you begged your father to treat him—or at the very least do something to ease the pain or slow the progression of his disease.  The plea was met with nothing but vitriol, with him screaming at you for disappointing him by being mentally weak and letting emotions cloud your thinking.  Corazón wasn’t spared either and caught an earful too, both for walking in when he wasn’t accepting new patients, and for expecting him to be able to remove the lead from Law’s body at all—let alone in a small, outdated facility.  Despite the insults flung at you, you stood tall and simply bit the side of your tongue and trembled, unwilling to allow the tears welling up in your eyes to fall. The yelling continued long after Corazón had stormed out of the office with Law—enough to be heard from a decent distance away, the vibrations from your father’s screaming reverberating in the snow; it gnawed at the pair to the point where Corazón turned on his heels and scooped you up despite Law’s insistence that it was too dangerous to bring you along.

You were by no means a permanent traveler, only spending roughly a week and a half with them hitching a ride to the next island; your aunt had a house in the country there, and Corazón was more than willing to use his rank as a Marine Commander if need be to spin some yarn to justify why you had to live with her now, by ‘order’ of the World Government.  However, the short time spent with you was a bright spot during his illness.  Quiet, but sharp, you had gotten along well with him, and though you were a bit jaded, you were hopeful, swelling with pure optimism that just as you were headed for a more stable and happy life, that he would get better—that he would live—you were like Corazón in that way.

But now, in stark contrast, Law watches you flip through another row of antique books, looking wholly defeated.  Tension hangs heavy between your neck and shoulder blades as you search in vain for a novel to throw yourself into in a futile attempt to ward off the pain accumulating in your chest.

“Hey.” Law murmurs as he approaches; his fingers skim along the spines of books nearby yours, but he isn’t truly looking—instead, he’s fixated on quelling the rapid beats of his heart as he waits to see if you recognize him.

Your head snaps toward the sound of his voice, lips parting slightly as starry eyes come to life; the sands of time had changed Law immensely, but his strong, steely gaze coupled with that silly snow-leopard print bucket hat that he still wears are a dead giveaway.

“Law!  It’s really you!” you exclaim, trembling with excitement as you soak in his presence, melding the image of the man in front of you with the hazy, murky memory of the boy you had befriended so long ago.  You weren’t surprised that he had survived—earlier this week the World Government had issued a small bounty on him; assuming he was already sailing out of the North Blue and towards the Grand Line, you had resigned yourself to the idea of never seeing him again, though it seemed fate had other plans for you.

“I heard you were living around here, so I figured I’d pay you a visit.”  Law says with a sly smile, slightly shocked by how smoothly the words come out.  It was a bit of a fib—he was secretly hoping he might run into you when traveling through this set of islands, but the real reason he was here was to stock up on food; still in the process of figuring out how to properly manage resources on the Polar Tang, Law had unfortunately found out that if left unchecked, Bepo was capable of going through a week’s worth of provisions in less than an hour.

“I really appreciate it—” you sputter out.  Often the one pouring effort into others, being on someone's mind was foreign to you. “I—I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.” you admit with a nervous laugh, face flushing pink as you struggle to spit your words out.

Amused, the edge of Law’s lip quirks upward. “So, I take it you’ve seen the poster.” he says, leaning in slightly and lowering his voice in case there were any prying ears nearby.

“Yep—though I figured you’d be long gone by now.” you reply sheepishly.  Law notes you’re markedly more relaxed than before, letting your shoulders hang loose as you mirror his actions and lean a smidge closer to him.

“Tch.  Not without you.” he says with a crooked grin; as the words come out, he momentarily worries about a potential rejection of his offer that’s admittedly phrased more like an order, but the way your face lights up stabilizes his confidence.

“Are you sure?” you ask with a hopeful grin, giving him one last out before fully emotionally attaching yourself to the opportunity.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure.” he teases; his voice is deeper, but he still speaks to you with the same direct, blunt nature that you found so endearing years ago.

“Just making sure.” you say with a soft giggle, a bit embarrassed from his sly reassurance.  With the matter of whether or not you were coming with him now settled, he gives you a run down of the Polar Tang and their current situation, rambling for quite a while before realizing that he’d barely asked you any questions about what you’ve been up to as of late.

“I’ve been studying chemistry—I actually just finished an accelerated program.” you tell him; now it was your turn to ramble on about your thesis project, and everything you’d studied beforehand, happy to have a captivated audience as he hangs onto your every word.

“Good.  It’ll be useful to have someone able to synthesize basic analgesics and extract compounds on board.” he says in response when you bring up your experience with chemical synthesis, though his words make you start to sputter once more.

“I don’t know too much about medicinal chemistry yet, I don’t know how helpful I’ll be—” you reply, worried about overstating your abilities, but Law interjects before you can put yourself down too much.

“Don’t worry.  You’ve got all the time in the world to learn.” he says reassuringly, leaving no room in his tone for opposition; it clicks for you in that moment that it didn’t matter what you planned to do to make yourself useful on the Polar Tang—he simply wants your company.

As you talk, he catches your head peering past his shoulder every so often, gaze fixed well above his head as you scan the room; Law knows exactly who you’re looking for, but his tongue twists into a knot, unable to string the words together to tell you what happened to Corazón—at least not right now.  Instead, he gestures behind him at the three young men—one significantly furrier than the other two—intently watching you with dopey grins on their faces.

“This is Shachi, Penguin, and—” he begins, only to be cut off by his navigator introducing himself with enthusiasm.

“And I’m Bepo!” he shouts happily, though he quickly hangs his head and apologizes upon catching a glare from Law for interrupting him.  Finding his silly behavior endearing, you can’t help but let out a tiny giggle that you stifle behind your hand. 

As you mingle with them, laughing at all of Shachi’s painfully corny jokes and making some of your own in return, Law can’t help but smile as he hangs back and observes.  Watching the sway of your skirt as you ask Bepo a dozen curious questions about cartography, he notices the flowers adorning the fabric are bleeding hearts; touched by the sentiment, his hand unconsciously traces over his tattoos through his sweatshirt.  Though you still were blissfully unaware of Corazón's fate, Law is glad he isn’t the only one who has carried his memory with them all this time.  The loss often weighs on his heart like a heavy blanket of snow, but finding you again—someone who knew him, even for a short while, eases his burden ever so slightly.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #trafalgar law #x reader #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law fanfiction #trafalgar law fluff

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Revenge is a dish best served with love; Spider and So’lek found family

I’ve been bothering @dirtytransmasc about it all day and I can’t stop 😭 there is such a strong potential for a story between these two if they were to ever cross paths!

It could go so many ways, but I see Jake giving Spider away to him as one of the possibilities. He does it under the guise of giving Spider training necessary to keep up with the Na’vi, so he could help out the insurgency but in reality, he bribed So’lek into taking Spider under his wing with the opportunity for revenge. And we know So’lek loves nothing more than revenge.

What better way to make Miles Quaritch himself roll in his grave than to mould his biological son into a sky people killing machine?

So the two set off for the western frontier and Spider begins his lessons in survival, as well as combat. He gets to see the man behind the legend and the truth is — the man is barely there. His mind is always partly consumed by violence; thoughts too dark for the boy to imagine. He also sees that So’lek lacks emotion in anything unrelated to war, and is a man of a few words unless discussing tactics. He’d heard that this Na’vi lost his entire clan in the battle of the tree of souls, but seeing the consequences of that event up close was different from being told about it. Trauma defined him.

They reach the clouded forest, and So’lek begins to teach the boy ways of battle. He is just patient enough for Spider to catch things on the fly but as usual, offers little empathy if he struggles or smalltalk when they’re out of combat.

So’lek’s "hunts" are the worst part. They happen rarely as Socorro is not dubbed to be ready for that yet, but he is often taken along to be taught by example. He gets to watch as something like an unsuspecting convoy of RDA grunts falls victim to what they call, among other things, "blue death". He sees them scream and shake in pure terror of a creature they clearly knew, sees how little of a chance they stand against a seasoned warrior as he moves like a silent shadow and takes the sky people out one by one. Swiftly, yet brutally. He calls those outings "hunts" for a reason.

And the way he speaks of sky people makes something in Spider’s spine shudder. The man speaks of them as game, seemingly forgetting that the student who’s intelligence and strength he often praises is still a sky person himself — not in spirit, but in body.

Socorro isn’t sure about this ordeal anymore. The more he finds out about the legendary warrior…the less he wants to follow in his footsteps. Protecting the people has always been something he wished to be useful in, and he loved the Na’vi, loved Pandora, his one and only home…but he can’t let himself become anything like So’lek. The way he sees it, killing should be performed mindfully. Spider hates the idea that taking a life, no matter what life, maybe become second nature to him. A reflex.

Killing should not ever be so easy.

On the other end of the line is So’lek himself. He never thought that taking in a child, even as just a temporary ward, would be so difficult. For the first time in fifteen years he has to feel again, and he hates it. Socorro makes him feel out of control, makes him feel frustrated, confused, tired, amused, alive.

With how stressed Jake sounded when he offered to give him the boy, So’lek assumed Spider was a danger; a nantang disguised as a harmless yerik, but the longer he waited the more he realised that said nantang was nowhere in sight. Not to say that Spider was a yerik either. If anything, the child strongly resembled a playful syaksyuk (prolemuris).

Spider, as any other kid his age, hungers for adventure, for freedom and fun. Even with all the respect he held for So’lek, he was a difficult boy to reel in and keep in line. He was constantly busy with something, be it a crafting project for their base (which, since he appeared, more and more resembled a home), exploring the wilderness or collecting something. Most often rocks or herbs.

His smile is so bright, So’lek feels blinded by it every time.

…no. This isn’t right. This isn’t how it was supposed to go, the man catches himself think. He was supposed to "steer Socorro in the right direction", as Jake had put it yet as weeks passed, his resolve melted into something he haven’t felt for years. Could it be…?

No. So’lek was absolutely not getting attached to the child in his care. He couldn’t. He was a sky person; a son to the demon.

But, he was so different from anything So’lek has encountered. There was fire in his honey eyes, but it burned with desire to protect, not hurt. He had an impressive muscle mass, but used it for climbing and weaving only. He made each kill matter, praying for every fallen thing even as So’lek hurried him to skin the meat before it got shrouded. Everything about nature fascinated, awed him, so he thirsted to learn of this new forest and every creature living within it.

Spider could speak of his home for hours. About the animals, the different plants, the remedies one could craft from them, and eventually, as always, he’d speak of his family. His precious siblings he’d raise hell to protect. He loves them more than anything because they are all he has in this entire world, no parental figure in sight. So’lek fights down the urge to hold a child he sees himself in when he hears it.

Spider…has subverted every possible expectation So’lek had of him. So pure and naive and filled with hope in spite of what he has already lost, and the dangers surrounding him…

And So’lek planned to break him. Take all of it away and turn him into a cold-blooded soldier. No more then a weapon for the Na’vi to wield.

What in Eywa’s name was he thinking?

So’lek wants to return Spider to high camp and forget about the deal, but it’s too late. He felt his wards crumble as the human he thought he needed to fear nestled deep within his heart, and now they were bound. He looked at the tiny thing sleeping in a hammock far too big for him. Then at the walls, now painted with images of animals and insects; painted the Omatikaya way. He then turned to the floors, now covered in mats Socorro weaved in his free time.

He made this place a home. Put so much effort with both his skill and voice. He brought So’lek’s base alive. Brought alive him even. It is only fair that So’lek puts in the effort to make this a home for the boy as well.

Just for fairness sake, he thought, tucking the child in as a smile tugged at his lips.

He wasn’t getting attached.

Not at all.

#atwow #avatar2 #avatar frontiers of pandora #frontiers of pandora #avatar frontiers #avatar fop #avatar so’lek #so’lek frontiers of pandora #avatar spider #spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #spider avatar #atwow spider #avatar headcanons

[deebris]

Seems like destiny

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After spending years in the bone marrow donation system, encouraged by the army, Simon was finally notified that they had found a match. He just didn't expect to find out that he would be donating it to his own son, who he had with his teenage love and never knew.

Warnings: Family problems, panic attacks, teenage pregnancy, swearing, mention of diseases such as leukemia, murder, archaic ideas, anguish.

Word count: 3.5 k

Any questions or errors, please let me know.

Simon always remembers how the army encouraged soldiers to be blood donors. There was a great concern within about it, as it was one of the ways the government found to help hospitals and people who depend on transfusions to survive.

Then campaigns for bone marrow donation began, but it was so rare to find someone compatible that after 6 years on the waiting list, Simon thought he would never find someone who would need him. But that changed two months ago when he received a call from the institute informing him that he should go there immediately.

He underwent more medical exams than he had ever done, and although he was a tough guy, he couldn't deny the pain he felt in the weeks following the procedure. Among so many people dying in beds waiting to find a donor, someone could finally heal because of him. It made Simon feel good about himself, as good as he hadn't felt in a long time. That had been one of the reasons why he joined the army: to help people.

Now he could only hope that whoever he donated to would improve. He found himself during the day thinking about it, wondering if in a few years it would affect him as much as it does now. It's not very fresh in his memory, but Simon is able to superficially remember the day he registered on the bone marrow donor list. He had been in the army for a short time, still a soldier, and "Ghost" didn't even exist yet.

He thought this would be put aside. He didn't understand if he would need to donate more often, not really knowing the process deeply. That's why when he received another call from the same institute, he thought there had been some mistake, or that they would need more, but the reason for the contact surprised him.

The recipient's caregiver wanted to meet him and was willing to break the standard anonymity by revealing their identity. Accepting the offer would mean that he would also need to disclose his personal information, which is why he hesitated so much. But as he constantly replayed the woman's words in his head, he grew restless.

"The caregiver wants to meet you," that's what she said. Could the recipient be a child? Or perhaps an elderly person? Or maybe someone who was already so ill that they could barely decide for themselves. He shouldn't have any information about this person, even something as empty as what that lady had let slip.

"You should accept. Everyone would like to have the opportunity to personally thank the person who saved their life," were the words of his Captain, John "Price." And it had been the push that Simon needed to agree to the idea.

Now, standing in front of the hospital room door, Ghost debated with himself whether he should open it. Just a few meters away was the little boy who had been haunting his mind for the past few days. And how did he know it was a boy? He had been directed to the children's oncology ward when he arrived at the reception minutes ago, as soon as he was cleared by the unit director, who already knew about the situation and the breach of anonymity.

Furthermore, the clipboard with the patient's information on the door also made it clear that it was a boy. The name "Lucas" was printed on the paper, accompanied by a surname that was familiar to him. There weren't many people in the UK with that name, which caught his attention.

All that separated him from the family was that door, dividing the cold hospital corridor from the room he could only hope would be less disheartening and empty. He didn't know if he would find a smile on the other side, or if he would be met with the sad gaze of the child's mother.

This woman had contacted him through a letter. On that day, he hadn't yet notified the institute that he was willing to speak with her, so the letter came anonymously since nothing had been filed. He read what she had to say, revealing some things, such as the fact that she was a single mother and was extremely grateful to God for sending him to save her son. Some paragraphs were difficult to read, where she recounted how she had lost hope before.

The little comfort he found in that text was when she talked about the boy. In those passages, her handwriting was less shaky, and he was sure she was happier when she wrote those parts of the letter. He knew that this had been her attempt to persuade him to come meet her, but without her knowing, he had already decided. Simon kept the piece of paper with him and reread it in his spare moments.

That stirred his emotions. He thought he had managed to harden his heart after everything he had been through, but he was wrong. Deep down in his soul, he was more emotional than he let on to others. He hoped that "Soap" would never find out, or he would be eternally tormented.

"Damn," he muttered softly, snapping back to reality. Simon began to bitterly regret agreeing to this. He should have declined and moved on. He could leave, but he was already here, so he mustered up the courage to knock on the wood.

He considered himself presentable in the civilian clothes he wore, accustomed to the heavy military equipment he carried all day at the base, and also missing the mask covering his face. Simon adjusted the collar of his dress shirt, as a way to occupy his sweaty hands, more nervous about the approaching footsteps he heard than his appearance.

Before the door opened, he had already told himself he would remain silent and wait for the boy's mother to start the conversation. If she asked who he was, he would state his name and explain why was there. But as the woman inside was revealed to him, he fell silent not because he had decided to, but because he was speechless. Suddenly, those seconds he spent admiring the child's surname on the door seemed like a scene from a comedy movie to him. How ironic it is considering he was just thinking about you moments ago and, like magic, you appeared?

It seemed like you took a few extra seconds to recognize him, and he doesn't judge you for that. Although you have changed and are now an adult woman, with a more mature face and body, he had changed much more since he was a teenager. Back when you two were in school, he was shorter and thinner, and he didn't have any of the scars on his face.

But it wasn't just that which changed in him. You stared in complete shock at how different the demeanor of the guy you were in love with was. He was more serious, more intimidating, very different from his brother, Thomas, whom you had seen years ago, just a few days before he was brutally murdered along with his wife and child.

Your legs went weak, and your eyes burned with tears threatening to overflow. You wanted so desperately to say something, but nothing could come out of your mouth. Was this real, after all? You withdrew your hand from the doorknob, not realizing you had been gripping it tightly until now, and sat in the nearest chair to avoid collapsing to the ground.

Your blood pressure had surely dropped, as you were sweating cold and seeing black spots. What were the chances, after so many years and after everything you had been through, of finally finding him just when you weren't even trying anymore?

Your memories since you found out you were pregnant began to flood back. You vividly remember your father's reaction when he found out you were having a baby; what he said when found out that the neighbor's son, Simon, was the father of the child; how you struggled to escape him after he took you away to another state, to cover up the shame of having a "prostitute" as a daughter.

You never managed to tell Simon, and when you returned to that town, the town where you two met, he was no longer there. You didn't have a penny in your pocket and only survived that week because of Tommy's help. He gave you a bed to sleep in, food, and clothes, both for you and his nephew. You remembered the perplexed expression he had when analyzed Lucas's appearance, it was impossible to deny that he was a Riley.

It was because of him that you found out Simon was in the army and that he hadn't come home in months.

You never managed to thank him properly. Just two days after showing up there, Tommy handed you half of the money he had in a bank deposit. He told you that a good part of that money belonged to Simon, and therefore, it belonged to your son too. You rented a hotel room so as not to continue bothering his wife, especially since she now had to cook and clean for five people.

You left for the hotel with the promise to reward him someday and continued making visits while anxiously tried to contact his brother on his phone, but Simon never answered. You didn't have a cell phone and couldn't spend the money Tommy gave you so lightly, deciding to prioritize your son's needs.

Several voicemails were recorded, but there was never a response. You felt angry at Simon. You screamed into your pillow, frustrated for not being answered and repeating to yourself how stupid he was. But the possibility that maybe he was dead haunted you. Tommy had told you how complex his work in the army was, that it was more dangerous than usual.

You always feared what you would find when you saw him again. He could have a wife, a beautiful house, and everything you ever wanted to have with him one day but couldn't. He could have children, children who had the opportunity to grow up with him, unlike Lucas. And then when you found out that no, none of that had happened, a kind of happiness flooded your chest, even though nothing in the world guaranteed that he would want anything with you again. The last time you had anything, you two were barely adults, until one day you left without saying anything. You thought he hated you.

That lasted until one time, when you went to Tommy's house, there was nothing there but blood. You still remember how scared you were when you found the broken door and called the police, who surrounded the scene of the violent crime that had just happened. You waited so long, but so long for Simon to show up. What kind of person doesn't attend their own brother's funeral? That's when you decided to forget him and threw away the phone number you had written down.

Some more time later, when Lucas had just turned 7 years old, your life was turning upside down again. It all started with symptoms of a common virus. He had fevers, weakness, and got tired very easily. Then he started losing weight and getting pale. Many pediatricians said it could be anemia or hepatitis, but more symptoms kept emerging. Joint pains came, as did swellings, and after a year of medical investigation, the diagnosis came: leukemia.

You entered a state of denial. Was there something wrong with his diet? Or his lifestyle? It could be genetic, but there were no cases of cancer in your family. Maybe the Rileys had some?

Since that day, your life has never been the same. With each passing month, your son only got worse. You would give all your savings, live on the streets, or even rob a bank if it meant seeing your baby well again. Fortunately, the government offered treatment for free, but some medicines needed to be acquired more urgently than the hospital could provide, and medicines for such treatment were not cheap at all.

The only thing that could cure your boy was the marrow from a compatible donor. You prayed so much that you could save him, but when the tests were done, it was impossible. If no one in the family could donate, it was almost a death sentence. Your last hope was your father. You hoped to never have to see him again, let alone tell him where you had run away to, but now you were no longer the same foolish young girl who depended on his money.

Despite everything, you knew he loved his grandson, and a single phone call was enough to make him come running. In recent years, he had been worried about the two of you, not knowing where you had gone. He never had the courage to admit he was wrong, and apologizing was never his strong point, but he regrets every day what he did. That day he didn't know how to react. He wanted to kill Simon, the brat who got his only daughter pregnant, just as he was afraid you would become a joke in neighborhood for having such a young son. He only managed to think about leaving to avoid a disaster, never asking what you wanted or how you felt.

For the first time, when he saw you so tired and alone, he held his tongue to not say anything that could ruin everything. Instead, he hugged you tightly, and you were so craving someone's company that you curled up in his arms just like when you were a little girl. He was a grumpy and archaic man, someone who made many mistakes, who still makes them, but he still has humanity within him.

Unfortunately, he was not a match either.

You stopped daydreaming, and you didn't realize how bad you were until you saw an adult Simon crouched in front of you, shouting in the hallway for a doctor, but you tried to silence him by grabbing the nails on his rolled-up shirt sleeve, catching his attention. The last thing you want is for the doctors responsible for your son's health to be alarmed, thinking he's worsened. These professionals worked as hard for him as you did. Simon seemed to understand and went to close the door to prevent curious eyes from appearing.

Simon looked at you with sadness, and it crushed your heart. He was afraid you wouldn't be able to breathe properly again; he knew you were desperately begging for air, but couldn't draw it in. He hesitated to touch you, but gave in to the desire and placed both hands on your cheeks. He was incredulous. It was really you, the girl he loved most in his entire life, more than he thought he was capable of loving another woman. Simon had imagined so many times meeting you again, and he had so many doubts.

"Calm down," he repeated in a whisper, locking his eyes onto yours. He knew panic attacks; he had experienced them himself several times. "I know. I know, dear. It's a lot to process."

"You…" your voice tried to come out amidst desperate breaths, while also trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands grabbed both of his wrists, and your thumb smoothed over the skin, feeling his heartbeat. "It's you who…?"

"Yes. Yes, it's me, the donor," he quickly confirmed, even before you could finish the question. "Don't speak. Breathe."

You were managing to calm down and think more rationally. Understanding hit you like a bucket of cold water, and your embrace made the big burly man he had become freeze. The feeling was so strange. Of course, among so many people, the only one who could save your little son would be his own father. The person with whom he shared half of his genes.

"He's yours, Si," your voice sounded like a spell in his ear, the old nickname sending shivers down his spine. Your tone was so gentle that he barely understood the meaning of the phrase. But soon he felt his lips quivering, recounting the events of the past few months and how unbelievable this would sound if he told this story to someone. "I swear he's yours," you repeated as if that made it easier to assimilate.

The content of that letter invaded his mind again and again. He felt horrible.

Simon pulled you closer to him, your bodies almost merging. You were still beautiful, even in your disheveled state, betraying exhaustion. And even after so much time, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of you. He knew there was a small body behind him, sleeping peacefully in the bed, but he didn't dare to look. He could hear the sound of the machines, and then it all came crashing down on his shoulders at once: he had a son with you. By his calculations, the boy should be 9 years old. Wow! He hadn't seen you in over a decade.

"I have so many questions," he confessed with a choked voice, and you don't remember ever seeing him cry before when you were younger.

"I searched for you so much. I called so many times," the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty, but hearing that, he felt like he should have kept searching for you too. As soon as you left, he went asking where your father had gone. He worried and tried to find out something, until enlisted in the army, and then all he did from then on was just think about you; never seeking; never trying in any way to find you again because it seemed easier to accept that you had left forever.

You tried to distance yourself, even though you hated it, to look at his face one more time. Simon allowed you to run your fingers over his features until your eyes landed on your son behind him. He knew where your gaze had gone, but he didn't follow it. And of course, you would understand what was happening.

"Look at him," you pleaded with tenderness, but he shook his head while rubbing his eyes, as if they hurt. "You're hurting me doing this, Simon."

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was rejecting the boy, so he stood up, fighting the weakness in his legs and slowly approaching the bed. The child's face was turned exactly in his direction, as if anticipating he would be there, but his eyes were closed, and his breathing was peaceful. It was only then that Simon realized how he was hyperventilating until he felt your hand gently pushing him closer.

His heart hammered in his chest, overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, as he watched his pale and still son. Each step was a journey through an ocean of uncertainty, each breath an effort to maintain composure in the face of the storm raging within him.

As he leaned over the fragile and inert body of the boy, a wave of emotions engulfed him. His broken heart cried out to stop the affliction that plagued his son, that beloved being he barely knew.

Tears blurred his vision as he stroked Lucas's hand, so small and vulnerable compared to his, so similar to yours. Each touch was a silent promise to stand by him in every moment, even in the darkest and most painful.

He found himself whispering words of comfort, as if each sentence could ignite a spark of life in his son's dormant soul. He pleaded to the heavens, to the stars, to any higher power that could hear, for a miracle, for a chance to see those childish eyes shine for the first time in his life. He was an identical copy of Simon at that age, and it made him wonder if the color of their irises was also the same, the same shade of brown. A sudden curiosity arose: what was his voice like? Would it sound like yours, so gentle and reassuring, or could it somehow sound like his?

There, in that moment, time seemed to freeze, the whole world disappearing. It was as if he were dreaming. There was no way all of this could be true, someone must be playing a prank on him. He wanted to look at your face again, to smell you while he ran his hands through your hair to make sure it was really you, flesh and blood. "He's going to be okay," he poured out the words, even though he knew the danger in promising that, and you dove into them, knowing you didn't have to face everything alone anymore.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod modern warfare #call of duty #imagine #x reader #simon ghost riley #mom reader #mother reader #task force 141 #angst #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod mw2

[luvtak]

sandcastles, lfx x reader

✧ genre/ tw f2l <3!! sugary sweet fluff, angsty confessions, a couple pet names, a very sweet kiss, and felix and mc being unbearably down bad for each other, unedited <3

✧ w/c 2586

✧ a/n okay so i am writing this at 2 am after basically throwing this up, I've had this idea in my head for a couple days and finally had time to execute it, I am a sucker for f2l!felix and I hope you enjoy this very sweet confession, as well as the fun summery vibes I hoped to embrace the story in, happy reading! mwah <3!!

The first time you saw him you thought he was a daydream, sun bright and shiny–a made up boy for a lazy sunday afternoon. He came with golden hour, everything orange and yellow and the floral july smell was creeping around you. At twelve, you’d never seen a boy so sure of himself or so kind. Usually, the boys at school were listlessly mean or energetically cruel–ever patient in their mission to bother you. But here was Felix, funny and sweet and asking to be your friend. 

The summer passed in oceanfront days and popsicle covered nights, pop songs on the radio as you talked from the backseat. Goofy and glamorous months spent together as you awaited Fall. You remember those days like the lines of your palm, linen sheets wrapped around your bodies as you told scary stories and held each other to ward off nightmares. Some days, going to bed with the sun still high in the sky–naps on the beach with his head on your tummy. 

Felix’s sister’s hands in yours while you played ring around the rosie, giggles loud when you let go. The little girl’s voices as they yelled they all fall down! And Felix's own little voice asking if you were all okay, always worried about skinned knees and chipped nail polish. Childhood flashed with bandaid kisses and sandy shoes, freckled skin and ocean covered giggles. 

You’d never forget when you realized he was beautiful–stepping out of the ocean like Aphrodite herself, a boy born from sunshine and seafoam. His wide eyes were crinkled with sun, surely adding more stars to his golden skin, and he was smiling. Smiling at you of all things, bright and incandescent Felix grinning at you like the happiest man on earth. 

You think of that boy now as he sits next to you, watching the movie with an almost exaggerated delight. Taking in the action and the humor like someone just shown technicolor after a life of black and white. He’s grown up so much, grown up and away from you as you’ve gotten older. Those summer nights are just an origin story for who he is now, a big bright star like you always knew him to be. 

As his very first fan, you always saw in him this man he could become, but sometimes under the cover of midnight you selfishly wished you could have kept him to yourself. He was always just yours; until he wasn’t… Always your north star, leading you on your journey since you were just a little thing, and now he’s that to thousands of people–none of them knowing he was yours first. 

If you told him this he’d giggle up a storm and tell you he was still yours, but he wasn’t, not really… not in the way you wanted him to be. How could you tell him you loved him when in an instant he became bigger than you or any childhood wish. 

“Silly, why aren’t you watching the movie? It’s the best part!” eyes gleaming and mouth pouty, Felix looks so pretty in the tv light, “I know we’ve seen this one like a billion times, but that doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention.” He huffs, undeniably pretending to be annoyed with you. He can’t really, couldn’t even if he wanted to. You’re just so dear to him, one half of his heart, and he could never attribute any negative feeling to you, even if you deserved it. 

When he came home and saw you, more grown up and more beautiful than his phone screen allowed, he couldn’t believe he ever left you. He was so excited to watch your movie together, and while Ponyo had lost the astonishment of childhood, it still held its charm. The film was the background of so many childhood memories–putting it on after midnight nightmares or days spent sick in bed; children versions of you wrapped up and watching every sleepover. 

It was silly, he had you there right next to him, but he still missed you until the movie was on, and here you were not watching it. 

“Sorry, Lix, I just can’t believe you’re actually here.” your voice trembles a little, hiding the true emotions and fear that he’ll find you out. He would never stop being your friend just because you had a little crush on him, could never abandon you for something so little as a flutter in your tummy. But this wasn’t just a crush or a flutter, this was a stampede. You’d been in love with him for so long now, kept it hidden away in teenage diaries and grown up journals. A secret between you and the moon. You could never be sure how he’d take it, that for years now you’d been cowardly and afraid of him, a boy so brave he conquered his dreams. 

“Well, believe it baby! And watch the movie… or else…” He said it in a funny voice, and even though you knew he meant well, the pet name pushed an ugly feeling in your gut. 

Quietly and painfully you looked back to the screen, avoiding the way you can feel his body breathe next to you. For so long you missed this, the knowledge that your best friend was next to you, but now you think he should go home. Back to Seoul where he doesn’t hurt you by being him, sunshiney and starlit him. “Hey, seriously, are you okay? Where’d you go?” Felix is genuinely worried now, a sinister feeling arising in his chest that you’re not okay, and that it’s because of him. 

Sure, he’s been gone a lot the last couple of years, but he never forgot the way your eyes got misty before you cried. He grew up alongside you, nursed bloody knuckles and broken hearts and he could feel when you were sad–knew like the back of his hand when you were devastated and hiding it, but was this just because you missed him? 

“I’m fine, star boy, I just always get a little sad when I watch Ponyo. You remember don’t you? The way I would cry and cry when Sasuke promises to love and take care of her?” you mutter, softly without any conviction, and while the boy knows this to be true, he can’t help but notice your fidgety hands and the way you won’t look at him. 

You’re so worried, crushed beyond belief that one night home and he’ll figure you out. You could never keep a secret from him, running to tell him as soon as someone told you a whisper of hidden truth. Since you were twelve you told him all your innerworkings and private feelings, all but this one. It was easy when he was gone, easy to train your voice to sound happy over the phone, but you couldn’t hide anything with his eyes so close to you. 

Shoulder to shoulder you sat on the sofa you grew up on, right in this position with this beautiful boy. Watching this movie at 12 and 15, holding hands to ward against scary movie monsters. You couldn’t keep this secret here. 

“You’re a shitty liar, Y/n, is it some boy? Do I have to defend your honor?” it was so silly to him, you were so silly. How could he think any other boy mattered to you but him? Him with his golden hair and bright eyes, star studded cheeks smiling at you in the sunshine. 

You would never forgive yourself for that day on the beach. The day he became more than Felix, your best friend. You used to gag when your parents teased you about him, winced when one of your girls would say you looked cute together, and then all it took was the sun hitting him just right. 

You would never forgive yourself for this night either, you had to tell him. Had to make sure he knew it didn’t matter if he couldn’t feel the same. Who were you other than his friend? He was an angel and you were just someone he knew before he ascended. 

“Yeah, I guess. Some boy who I just can’t get out of my head.” 

“Oh, my silly sweetheart, is he devastatingly handsome.” he was giggling, the way he always did when you brought up boys to him, like it was ridiculous you would think a boy was cute. 

“I think so, he’s handsome and sweet, and I’ve never known anyone like him.” 

“This sounds intense, Y/nie, you must really like him…” 

“Yeah, you could say that.” 

You can’t help but notice his body language shifting, turning inward and hesitant. His voice got quieter too, shifting back into his normal voice. You wonder if you transferred some of your fear to him, then dismiss the thought–your Felix has always been brave. 

The movie still plays, little kid voices filling the otherwise silent room. The picture can be seen in his eyes, lighting the dark with bright oranges and blues. They're looking at you, and some tiny part of you can tell he seems sad. That piece of you that always knows how he’s feeling; attuned even when he’s in South Korea and you feel with all parts of you that you need to send a message to cheer him up. 

You feel that now, and reach out to take his hand, calloused and warm in yours. 

You stay like that for a while, finishing the film hand in hand like you did when you were both still small. Until finally, he asks so quietly you can barely hear him, 

“Do you like him more than me?” 

Shocked, you can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, which stuns Felix enough to pull his hand from yours–rubbing with his other hand where yours touched. He’s hurting, and you’re laughing at him, and this is enough to pull all of his bravery into you. Deep breathe in and out until you are sure every ounce of courage he’s ever had is running through your veins. You need to tell him, and even if he never speaks to you again, it's better than if he never knew he spins your whole world around. 

“Oh my god, Felix, it is you.” it comes out in a breath, faster than you’ve ever said anything and more relieving than any sentence you’ve rattled out before. The tears you’ve been fighting off all night come tumbling down, cascading over your cheeks with reckless abandon into your shaky hands. He’s silent for so long, barely even moving from his place next to you. The only indication he’s still hear the shaky breaths he’s releasing, and still you don’t look at him.

You’re waiting for him to leave, to walk out the door and go home, waiting for him to walk out of your life and back into his place in the sky, when finally you feel his hand on your wrist. His hold is so delicate, nervous as he moves your hands from your face and can finally see your eyes. Eyes sad and exhausted and so familiar to him, even through the tears their lovely–a reminder of home and unconditional love, and growing up. He can’t believe you would like him, Him with all his idiosyncrasies and softheartedness, you were so beautiful and so strong and you liked him. Thought he was handsome and sweet, you’d never known anyone like him… 

How long could this have been going on, how could he have been living never knowing you felt this way? Never knowing he felt it too, not just butterflies in his belly, but falcons, wings so strong and so big they started hurricanes. 

He looked at you like he always did, like you were the most important thing in the room. Eyes on yours and a smile of disbelief rising on his face. Slowly, without any reservations he brought his forehead to yours, looking down at you in all your snotty glory and lifting a hand to swipe at the falling tears. His voice is a whisper, deep and familiar, the same voice he used to tell stories and secrets, 

“It’s me? You promise?” 

“It’s always been you, Felix, how could it be anyone else?” 

He shudders, the hand sitting atop your cheek bone falling to your neck before he moves closer, settling his lips next to yours. Eyes lifting in a silent question, is this okay? With a nod and a close of your eyes he’s leaning in, moving to kiss you with all the desperation the moment requires. His tongue wiping up all the fallen tears as his lips moved with yours–when you were children he always kissed your wounds better, sweet pecks over bandaids and foreheads, and here he was now fixing up a broken heart–putting it back together. 

When he comes back up for air his eyes settle over your frame, flushed and hair messy from his hands, and he smiles. He’s loved you since he was a boy, since you asked to build that sand castle, 12 years old and braver than anyone he’s ever known. He’s loved you through teenage tantrums and silly crushes, it’s always been you. 

“We’ve been so silly, sweetheart.” he finally gets out, laughing at the impossibility of it all. The one secret you kept from each other being the same. Like always, exactly on the same page–telling the same story over and over again until you met in the middle. “When did you know? When did you know you loved me?” 

He’s so happy, you can feel it in the way he’s holding you, in the way his hands haven’t left your skin since they arrived. You can’t believe it, this beautiful boy is holding you. 

“That day you told me you were gonna audition… you came from the sea smiling and covered in sunshine, and I saw you for the first time–larger than life, my dream.” 

His eyes closed, and then he laughed. A great big wonderful laugh that took him away from you, falling onto his back with happy tears streaming. It was such a lovely sound you couldn’t help but join in, giggling with him even if you didn’t know why. 

When he finally speaks again his voice is still twinged with laughter, breathless and happy when he says, “You were so late” pausing to laugh, “I loved you since we were 12, you were covered in sand and I was in love.” 

You move to him quickly, settling your body on top of his as gently as you could manage, and you take in his happy face. This is what he looks like in love, not any different than he’s ever looked, but the shock of it–the fact that it’s you who he loves and is loved in return makes you want to cry again. 

This is where home is, here in his arms with your movie playing, smiling at each other in awe. There's so many moments you can share with him now, moments you shared with the moon and shooting stars, things you never thought you could tell him. Days and weeks holding a secret that he carried too. How silly you’ve both been, to deny what everyone has told you since you were children–two humans made for each other, sculpted out of the same sand. Lives entwined since that day on the beach when you asked him to build a sandcastle, how funny looking back, that you never did.

© LUVTAK 2024

#felix x reader #felix fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix imagines #felix x you

[onyourhyuck]

LUKEWARM. L.DH | Episode 1

— Title: ‘Wasteland, baby.’

— Summary: Hong Yujin is the new patient at the psych ward admitted for her eating disorder. On the first day of being admitted she meets Haechan, a patient being treated for his bpd. Yujin already claims to hate him; he is everything she dislikes. Loud, annoying, self destructive.

— Genre: Psych ward, hospital, mental illnesses, can be triggering so read at your own risk, guys take care of yourself, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of bpd, suggestive, smut, angst etc.

— Notes: please don’t read if you’ll be triggered !! Take care of yourself guys.

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Yujin is emotionally constipated and Haechan is a meddler.

The two most complex cases in the ward — happen to be each other’s triggers and worst of friends in the whole of hospital. Putting these two and two together is like asking for a death wish to happen.

You see punishment takes in many different forms. Yujin is convinced that god is punishing her with Haechan messing up her life whenever she’s in a good mood.

The young girl only recently started to enrol in this hospital not out of her own choice. News spread around quickly of Yujin and of course Haechan wanted to see the newbie for himself. She remembers how he bothered her with so much questions on the first day. Now Yujin wishes he would choke and shut up for once.

If there was a thing to describe him. It would be running tap water.

Strange interpretation right? Yujin likes to think that Haechan’s like tap water. Distasteful, stale and unpleasant.

So far it sounds accurate to Yujin.

A plop of weight pressed on the mattress with shoes on the hospital bed. The boy crossed his legs over the covers with a gleeful smile gazing right back at the owner of the room who looks to be the most pissed he’s seen her yet.

How exciting. Haechan loves getting reaction out of people the most. The girl has been his main source of entertainment here since she arrived. It was like a blessing from God, or so he likes to think.

“Get out.” Yujin states not even bothering to say hello or ‘please get out’ it was just a flat out unemotional reaction equivalent to ‘fuck off’ which he pretends that it hurt him. But it didn’t in reality.

The boy gasps pretending to be a freaking sob but he stopped acting when the expression on her face did not budge. Haechan was intrigued by Yujin’s bluntness. Most other patients would’ve backed down and been submissive to him, but not Yujin. He liked that in a very twisted way.

“Oh come on don’t be such a stick in the mud, let me hang out with you.” Haechan flashes her a little smirk hoping it would encourage some agreement between them.

Yujin heavily exhales. Might as well add some smoke particles, Haechan swore he saw her head turning to flames any minute.

“No. If I want to hang out with someone like you I would get a pet dog. Now get out of my room!” The arms extend out towards the door so Haechan can see the way out.

Taken aback by such statements but not letting them phase him outwardly. Haechan definitely notes from bothering her as of lately he did notice Yujin was rather a feisty individual. Deciding it would be even more fun to get on her nerves and push the already pressed buttons even more just for the fun of it. He didn’t actually care that Yujin was upset.

Haechan’s back pressed on the wall while he was sitting up on the bed this time. Legs crossed over the covers with that devilish smile.

“Oh calm down you’re in a mental ward, I’m sure you’ll come across much worse than me.”

The audacity to have Haechan smiling at her at this time? Yujin feels every inch of her body blood boiling to the point she couldn’t stand straight and see clearly.

Yujin glares over at the boy who made himself comfortable on the bed unannounced with one leg over the covers as if he owns this freaking ward to himself. Yujin stands there in middle of the room immediately ready to protest to the boy who gave no ounce of care.

“Who do you think you are?” Yujin says with an unamused expression.

The boy notices Yujin’s reaction to him sitting down on her bed and her glare. It would fun seeing someone else react this much, Haechan sometimes wonders if her head will explode someday.

The girl has only enrolled recently. He grins from ear to ear. It was fun however. Especially to a guy like him.

Haechan leans back on the bed and rests his feet against the wall. He grabs a magazine off the bedside table and begins to read, as if he’s at home. “Oh come on, what makes you think you own everything here? Who do you think you are?”

Haechan taunts her back. He can’t get enough of this interaction. It was like watching a sitcom on television but he was starring himself.

The moment which was full of tension like a chalk scraping at the chalkboard in a classroom. It felt like a million knives stabbing in the same constant pressure point on a body. It wasn’t a good energy at all so when the young nurse walked in on the moment, she was rather surprised to see Haechan on the bed already harassing the new patient.

The nurse furrows her eyebrows. “Haechan shouldn’t you be in your room taking your medication with nurse Joong?”

His eyes dart away from Yujin to the nurse rather eerily and he slants forward with a dropping smile. “Awh bummer — well this was fun.” He said it like he spent most of the living moments in this ward.

Yujin couldn’t put her finger on it, but it certainly sounds like Haechan was used to the pills prescribed.

But before he was fully leaving he whispers to Yujin. “Welcome to the Wasteland, baby.”

Not quite understanding what the boy meant. Yujin frowned and turned back but by then he was gone on his way.

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work. Please reblog this blog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out !

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #haechan fanfic #nct haechan smut #haechan fanfiction #haechan imagines #haechan headers #haechan smut #haechan scenarios #nct fanfic #nct u hard hours #nct u layouts #nct u moodboard #nct u reactions #nct u smut #nct u x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct masterlist

[ask-garymiller]

pinned post yay

blog run by @zzoupz

blog timeline: post-chapter iii true ending (back from the dead)

this is an art ask blog. but format may varies

character is very headcanon heavy so it may be OOC. also I’m not very experienced in roleplaying in general so be patient

current statuses will be in the blog description 

blog rules:

no M!As

no NSFW please. jokes are fine

don't send the same ask multiple times. I promise I've already got it.

have fun and be yourself

other Faith rp blogs (please go check them out!):

@ward-of-blue-things, @ask-father-garcia, @thosepossessedteenagers, @ask-johnward, @johnlovesyou, @michaelcalce, @aluskidooyoucantoo, @un-vaticand, @asksisterjules, @vatican-unapproved-boy, @askwhowhat

I think that’s all. and remember, 

#faith the unholy trinity #faith game #gary miller #ask blog #faith rp