#the fact that he’s stealing focus even when blurred

[keenenthusiastinfluencer]

WHAT TABLE SCRAPS ARE THIS

#only two new photos of elf cop #one of which is blurry #the fact that he’s stealing focus even when blurred #we have no choice but to stan #les miserables #les mis london #stewart clarke #elf cop

[greg-montgomery]

Mr. Scratch - Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

a little hurt/comfort inspired by ep. 10x21 - mr. scratch aaron's hallucination is you getting killed right in front of him. pre-relationship <3 words: 1.6k warnings: basically everything bad that happens in that episode: being drugged, hallucinations, blood, feeling paranoid

Aaron stayed unfazed by the sight of the gun pointed at him; his stare cold and unwavering.

“Oh, that was good. Oh, that was so good,” Peter whispered. “That was so impressive.”

His eyes almost sparkled with excitement as he went on, “The way you got into my head…It makes me want to know how I get into yours.”

A sound from right outside interrupted him and Aaron already knew where it was coming from. His team was there, you were there.

“You were right,” Peter said. “They did come calling for you.”

“They’ll kill you,” he threatened him with the same certainty he knew the sun would come up in the morning.

Peter’s next words though made his heart tremble with fear. “Are you sure about that?”

The dead silence in the house allowed him to focus on every little sound being made. His ears despite having been injured in the past could almost hear the door open. They could almost hear the sound of footsteps. He was certain, you were inside the house.

Peter had disappeared in the darkness and he could only pray you would get to him first. What if you weren’t fast enough? What if he drugged you too? What if-

A gunshot from the next room tore his heart in half.

He cursed himself for being unable to move, frozen in the same place as if he was stuck in the middle of a nightmare. Someone was being hurt and he was too weak to help; too slow to save them.

More gunshots followed, he thought he heard someone scream.

And then he heard you. “Hotch!”

Your voice was desperate, scared. But it meant you were alive, and that was more than enough to him.

“Here,” he said with every inch of power he had left in his body.

“Where?”

“Here,” he repeated. “In the study.”

First he saw the outline of your body, moving like a shadow towards him. Your eyes were wide with worry, like every time you saw him in danger. His sweet Y/N, who cared for him in a way he never knew he needed before.

“Where? Where is he?” he breathed as you knelt next to him.

“I shot him. He’s down,” you said.

Before he had the chance to feel relief, before he had the chance to look into your eyes for just a moment of comfort, a body hid the light behind you. He wasn’t dead.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled, but the bullet had already left Peter’s gun.

You fell to the ground and your hand covering the wound in your neck did nothing to stop the blood from running.

“No,” he screamed with desperation. “No, no, no.”

Tears ran down his cheeks getting mixed with your blood that had been splashed on his face, but he was unable to move. He wanted to run to you, to take you in his arms, to steal you away, but he was stuck watching your terrified expression as you were bleeding to death.

“No,” he cried. “No, baby, not you. Help!” he screamed. “Somebody help!”

His body was shaking, but as if he was under a spell, he couldn’t even lift his arm. A feeling of helplessness took over his body that he had only experienced once before; the day he lost Haley.

“Not my Y/N,” he choked on his sobs.

“Now I know what scares you,” Peter said, towering over him.

The gun he pointed at Aaron turned towards your body again and you were met with a final shot.

“No!”

His eyes closed, his blood boiling with fury. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.”

When he opened them again, he had to blink a few times before he realized that your body was gone. His head was dizzy and his vision was blurred, but he was certain of one thing: you were no longer lifeless, laying right in front of him.

“It’s okay. You can move now.”

He had been fooled, just like all of his victims before. Aaron knew what he had to do now, the fact that you were still alive giving him some clarity.

“I’m about to come through that front door.”

He was lying, but still Aaron accepted the knife Peter gave him and turned to the door. You were about to come in, and this time for real; he had to play along. This time he had a second chance. A second chance to save the person he loved that was so brutally taken away from him the first time.

“My gun,” he asked. “I need my gun.”

“Look. Here I come,” Peter said. “Kill me.”

Aaron reached out for his gun and pointed at the spot he had shown him. As soon as he saw the door open, he turned around and shot Peter as fast as he could.

“Hotch!” you ran to him. “We need a medic in here!” you asked.

“Take it,” he said, terrified, giving you his gun. He didn’t trust himself with it; not when it was you right in front of him. “Take it.”

You did as he said, placing your hand on his arm, trying to figure out a way to comfort him.

“He made me see things,” he cried. And then in a breath he said again, “He made me see things...”

“It’s over,” you said softly. “You’re okay. Look at me.”

Aaron met your gaze and you didn’t seem to think twice before reaching out to him and taking him into your arms. He couldn’t help but melt into your embrace.

“It’s okay,” you kept repeating to him, and it wasn’t the words you used, but the sound of your voice that calmed his shaking body down. “I’m here, I got you.”

“He’s gone,” Spencer informed you.

--

“He looks traumatized,” JJ said, staring at her boss. Peter had just been arrested but it didn’t seem to have calmed him down. His attention was completely devoted to you, as you held his hand and talked to him at the back of the ambulance.

“His hallucinations were probably traumatic,” Rossi said.

“He needs to talk about it,” Derek added.

“I’m sure he will. He has Y/N to talk to.”

Their attention turned back to you. You were holding a piece of cotton now, patting it softly over his wound. He kept insisting to the medics he was fine, but seemed fine with you touching him.

Your free hand was still holding his.

“I didn’t know they were…” JJ said before David interrupted her.

“This isn’t the time or the place for a conversation like this. Let’s just be grateful he’s letting someone in.”

“You’re right,” Morgan said.

--

You insisted on driving Aaron home and if he was honest with himself he had no issues with it, since he had also no intention of ever leaving you out of his sight again.

He was thankful Jack wasn’t home. The last thing he wanted was for his son to see him in that state.

Closing the door behind you, you made your way around his couch and sat next to him. You seemed almost awkward in your moves.

The fact that you were a soft spot for him was not a piece of information he had ever shared with you before. But after that night it would be ridiculous for either of you to pretend you were just a unit chief and his subordinate. Your dynamic had shifted.

“Thank you,” he said. “For driving me home.”

“I would never let you drive in that state.”

Any other day your sweet words would have made him smile, but Aaron didn’t have it in him at that moment. He was exhausted and scared.

“Aaron,” you said, reaching out for his hand. The sweet gesture and the use of his first name made his heart flutter. “You can talk to me…about what you saw.”

Flashes of your bleeding body appeared right in front of him. He was back in that house, frozen to the ground, hearing your desperate chokes as you bled away.

“Hotch? Aaron?”

It all vanished the next second, as he blinked to send them away.

“I saw your death.”

His words visibly shook you, and you slightly opened your mouth but without making a sound.

Aaron’s voice broke. “He shot you right in front of my eyes. You were bleeding to death and I couldn’t move.”

His breaths were getting shorter as he sobbed and you moved closer to him, placing your palm right over his heart. “I was too late again. I didn’t save you.”

“You did. You shot him, remember? You saved me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved all of us. He drugged you and you still managed to shoot him.”

He couldn’t help but let all the tears out. “I’m scared I never woke up from it. I’m scared you’re not real.”

“I’m real. I’m right here, I promise.”

“Y/N…”

Your movements were careful as you lifted your hand to cup his cheek, and the comforting motion of your thumb rubbing the side of his head brought him back to reality. You were real, his inner voice repeated.

“I am terrified of losing you,” he admitted.

“You won’t.”

He tried to speak again but his sobs wouldn’t allow him to.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes were watery too, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away. But you put him back to his place, silently reminding him that he was the one who needed comfort this time, as you wiped his tears away with your hand. “I’m here.”

“Will you stay?”

“Do you think I would leave you here alone? I would stay even if you didn’t want me to,” you answered.

“I would never not want you here, Y/N.”

Aaron fell into your arms and you held him there with no intention of letting him go. “I know.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #hotch #hotch 🪐

[nexysworld]

Summary: Things go awry when your undercover mission involves 'marrying' another agent - suffice it to say your boyfriend isn't thrilled. Based on this request. Pairing: RE6!Leon x DSO Fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, my poor attempt at humor, not beta read. No use of y/n WC: 1028

Make a Request || Masterlist

"Are you sure you guys will tell him? I haven't been able to reach him yet." You felt ridiculous about the whole thing - a fake wedding? That was something right out of some cheesy made-for-tv movie. It honestly shouldn't even have bothered you that Leon hadn’t been made aware, it wasn't like you were actually cheating on him. Still though, it just felt like something he should know, since you would be kissing another man. Didn't help that it was Chris Redfield of all people too. "Of course, he's supposed to be getting back from that China mission today, right? We'll make sure he's in the loop." Helena assured, with a smile. If it hadn't been for your nerves and focus on the mission, you probably would've caught the way Sherry’s face contorted as she held back laughter, hiding behind the brunette woman. 

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." The rest of your time was spent having your hair teased and curled, layers upon layers of makeup being applied to your face. It felt like hours had passed before you were finally deemed worthy enough to be set loose for the main affair. All the while Helena and Sherry sat together cracking up over something that they spoke to each other in hushed whispers about. “What’s so funny?” You finally asked. “Oh nothing.” Was the only reply. “You wouldn’t get it, it's an inside joke.”

“Uh huh…” Not fully convinced by their statement, you wanted to pry further, but let it go not having the time to interrogate them.

 As you walked towards the makeshift altar, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Chris, who was looking just as uneasy as you felt. He was standing so stiff in the suit, more like a statue than a groom. Hopefully your acting was better than his, or this whole thing would be a bust. The doors to the side of the chapel opened, and much to your surprise you found Leon walking through. It was obvious that he was fresh off the plane by his messy-blonde locks and the fact he hadn't even taken his tactical gear off. You recognized the irritated look on his face, and it made your stomach drop.

The ceremony went by in a blur, mind racing with thoughts of Leon and how he was feeling. ‘Why does he look so upset? They had to have told him or he wouldn’t even be here.’ You barely registered the words being spoken by the officiant, speaking only when it was your turn. It had only just registered for you that it was time for the kiss. Chris leaned in, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand, and not to your boyfriend staring daggers from the pew. 

Before your lips connected though, you were interrupted by the sound of Leon's voice cutting through the air. "Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" 

A couple of gasps were heard from the crowd, you ignored them to make eye contact with the blonde who's boots loudly thrummed against the floor as he made his way over to you and your fake groom. "At what point were you planning on telling me that you were leaving me? Maybe I'll get a postcard from the honeymoon?" "Lee, I-" "I don’t care that I’m interrupting your little ceremony – save it. I can't believe you'd do this to me, and with Chris of all people?" "Leon, stop." You half whispered to him, trying to get him to calm down without alerting the crowd to anything suspicious. "I need you to calm down." "Calm down? I go away on a mission and when I come back you're getting married --" "Leon please, it's not what you think." You pleaded, trying to get him to lower his voice. "It's not real." He paused for a moment bewildered by what you said. "What do you mean it's not real?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you leaned in to whisper to him. "It's not a real wedding. It's for a mission Chris and I are working on, an undercover mission." "An undercover mission?" He repeated as if the words were foreign to him. There was a brief moment of silence before realization came washing over his features. ”Oh shit.” “Yeah oh shit.” You chided through gritted teeth. Any further discussion was cut off by the sound of Chris’ voice. “I’m sorry folks.” Chris said with a weary tone. “I think my fiancé and I need some time to work this situation out.” He put one hand on your back and the other on Leon’s ushering the two of you back to the dressing room. The moment the door closed, you were already going off again. “Did you seriously think I would just get married to someone else while you were away?” “Well, no… I guess not.” “You guess not?” You felt the vein above your right eyebrow begin to throb with annoyance. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” “For starters you were in China. But besides that, Rebecca and Sherry were supposed to tell you for me – wait a minute, if you weren’t told how did you even know to come to the church?”

“Well uh…” Leon reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. It took him a moment to unlock it before handing it over, revealing a message thread. The number said ‘Unknown’ and the only thing included was a picture of you in the gown along with the address. “What the –” 

The unmistakable sound of laughter filled the room as the two culprits decided to enter. “We’re sorry.” Sherry said. “We just thought it would be a little funny to keep Leon on his toes.” “Yeah, we figured it would be a little harmless fun, we didn’t expect him to get here so soon.” Helena added. “But man, the look on his face – priceless.” Leon’s mouth hung open at the girls’ words, you could tell his brain was working overtime to process the situation. You had to admit, it was funny to look at. Kissing him on the cheek you joined in the laughter.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #Leon Kennedy fanfiction #Leon Kennedy fluff #leon kennedy drabble #resident evil #resident evil x reader #Resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 6 #re6 leon #drabble #request #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fluff #sherry birkin #helena #chris redfield

[sunflowersoap]

back on my bullshit once again. thinks about how the headspace gangs reaction to starting to forget basil can probably tell you a lot about them.

for example, aubrey being EXTREMELY protective over that flower crown. her absolute rage at kel for kicking it off. her thinking "it used to belong to someone, we should return it." very similar to "how DARE basil ruin all our photos! they used to belong to all of us, and he throws us all out like we were nothing! he doesn't even care! he turned his back on all of us! on mari! she used to be here! she used to be a part of our lives! you think just because she isn't here you can just throw everything away? why don't you care? why don't you CARE?!"

her attachment to objects makes me think she values gift giving as a love language. this thing was so important to them, so I'll give it back. I'll give them this to show I care. this thing is special. it's not just an object to her, it's a physical display of their affection. so losing that object feels like losing the last bit of that love.

her being so intent on returning that flower crown even if it's broken and damaged. because someone loved it, so it must be special. her extreme protectiveness was still there, but now it was in a more destructive way. she's so protective of mari and her memory that she assumes the worst of everyone, because everyone pulling away and abandoning her or acting like everything was okay didn't just feel like a betrayal to her. she felt like they were betraying mari. that's why it pissed her off so bad when kel said think of how mari would feel. because oh, NOW you want to think of how mari would feel? NOW??

kel remembering the pictures also sticks out to me. he remembers basils words, even if his memories are so foggy. he has an attachment to those memories. this can also possibly tell us something about him. he doesn't hold on to objects as much as aubrey does, but those memories are everything to him. he listens, he holds all those moments so close to him. even when he's forgetting basil, he remembers all those little quirks he loves. he listened intently to basil, he cherished every single moment. he remembers his favorite things and why he does things and little details about him. even if he's forgetting the fact basil takes pictures, he remembers that they have pictures and WHY they were taken. his focus isn't really on the photo album in the real world. it's on the fact basil is sad and aubrey is so much different. his attachment isn't about the object. it's about the fact it means a lot to BASIL. that's why he wants it back. it makes basil happy. he doesn't understand why aubrey would do it, because his attachment was never to the album. it was "this makes basil happy and brings him joy. he loves this thing. he loves talking about it." so he memorized all his rambling about it. he isn't as attached to the album itself as aubrey is. it wasn't about the photos to kel, it was about spending time with basil. so to him, aubrey's anger seems irrational. it's honestly kinda like different love languages. hers is gift giving, his is quality time. so it doesn't make sense to him. it's basils thing. why would she steal it? it's his passion.

hero, if I'm recalling correctly, doesn't really need to be reminded of basil at the last resort. even while he's forgetting him more and more, he's keeping the group on task. he's bringing up the worry about forgetting things about basil. he looks out for basil. he's trying to keep the group positive. that's what he's trying to do. looking out for basil even when everything's becoming a blur. protecting him even when he isn't there. that's how you see heros love for basil manifest. protecting him. he jumps in to save basil with no hesitation. he tries to solve the fight between aubrey and basil. he looks out for basils health and safety. even if he doesn't know much about basil anymore, even if he's changing, he looks out for him. no matter how difficult it is, he protects him. because if basil can't protect himself, he'll do it. because basils his best friend and he loves him and he needs someone who looks out for him. if basil can't protect himself, he'll help as much as he can. even when he can barely remember him, he remembers he needs his help and THATS enough to keep going.

sunny? simple. he knows basil so fucking well. he knows basil talked to him about things he never talked to about anything else. he's terrified about something happening to basil, enough to have so many rooms of him dying horribly as worst fears. he feels like he can't save their relationship so he runs from it. he knows all of basils worst fears. he knows how trusting basil was of him. he knows how much basil cared about "who he thought he was" (despite what his mental illness makes him think, it's who he IS. not what he thinks he is.) he knows basil like the back of his own hand. he knows his worst traits, he knows his worst fears, he knows his pains and his insecurities and his guilt and his grief. THATS how sunny expresses care and his love language. knowing someone to that degree and listening.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. I just think this game and the way different characters show love is very interesting.

#omori spoilers #omori #basil omori #omori basil #omori kel #kel omori #aubrey omori #omori aubrey #omori analysis #omori sunny #sunny omori #omori hero #hero omori

[kikiyoomis]

kissed me breathless

how many drinks has it been? seven? eight? maybe nine?

it may be even more, you've certainly stopped counting after a couple of drinking games that had you too competitive to focus on anything else. everything's a blur, you don't remember who you came here with nor remember the reason why you're here at this house party.

it's early in the morning, possibly 3 or 4 am. the moon is high in the sky and the number of people at the party has significantly decreased since you've arrived. you feel like it's also time for you to leave, to finally go home and reduce the pains of an oncoming hangover but you're unable to bring yourself to.

you're instead threading your fingers through dark, messy curls, tugging it ever so slightly as he continues to kiss you like it was his last time. it probably will be his last time. and so you kiss the stranger back.

he's tall, handsome, and a good kisser on top of that. he's doing everything right. kissing with the right amount of pressure, holding your face tenderly while pulling you in for another round. the kisses are slow, sensual and despite the fact that the both of you are drunk, it was the most romantic make out session of your life. it's clear that he doesn't want to let you go, and you don't wanna go either.

you're not quite sure how you got into this situation. was it the countless shots of liquid courage? this was something sober you wouldn't have ever done. but after hours of doing nothing but make out with this stranger, it has been the most enchanting thing you've done tonight and you don't regret it at all.

"i can't get enough of you," he says, breaking away slightly to catch his breath. you take this chance to really take a look at his face. it's slightly sweaty from kissing you but you find him extremely attractive. the two moles above his eyebrow steals your attention, preventing you from looking away. and his voice was deep and quiet, saying things only for you to hear.

he leans in for another kiss, this one lighter and more cautious than the previous ones. it makes you yearn for more.

and so you kiss him back with more intensity.

i want you, your kisses seem to say.

and he understands it completely, matching your speed and pressure as his other hand slides towards the small of your back to pull you in closer for a deeper kiss.

with your heart pounding, you gather the courage to finally ask the stranger for his name. you don't want to leave this night without knowing the stranger that left you so breathless.

"sakusa," he says, and after a brief pause he adds on, "kiyoomi."

with a smile, you whisper his name back to him. repeatedly saying it between each peck you leave on his lips. it was like the more you said it, the less likely you were to forget it.

"hey, you have to tell me your name too," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. and so you tell him your name.

by now the party is nearly at a standstill, the only people left were those passed out drunk, those waiting for a ride home and the small group of friends still talking and laughing about something that had happened.

sakusa takes a step back, leaving you afraid of him leaving. you knew it would happen soon but "soon" didn't actually prepare you enough for when it was actually going to happen.

"the party is pretty much over," he says to you. you nod in agreement, looking around at your surroundings.

"i don't want you to go," you blurt out honestly. an instance of regret washes over you for saying something so bold and blunt without thinking. but if he leaves, what if this was truly the last time you see him?

"well, i dont plan on sleeping here. it's a one way ticket for various illnesses to enter my body since the end state of this party is so disgusting. i already shouldn't have come here to begin with, my head hurts from all the alcohol miya had me drink," sakusa says in a matter of fact tone, different from the tone he used when he was kissing you.

your heart drops, thinking that this was his moment of clarity and that he regrets the time he has spent with you. you wish it wasn't this way.

he pulls a mask from out of his pocket, looping one end around an ear. "however, my place has a bed fit for two. this party might be done for the night but if you want, ours can end a little later," he says with a grin before covering it with the mask.

you smile at the opportunity, and happily accept it. this was not going to be your last time seeing sakusa.

#haikyu #haikyuu #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #gn reader #sakusa fluff

[orchid-mantis-petals]

When Home Becomes You

| I have no idea how to use this app. Please bear with me as I learn.

/ Day one of this. I forewarn I have a busy work schedule post will be vastly irregular.

/ These boys have saved my life this year. Other writers have aided in that love for them (fictional and non)

/ Genre: fluff, (for now)

/ Warnings: swearing. Changbin kinda swears a lot here. Minor injury. Anxiety. Chapter one in LONG (sorry..)

/ Summary??: Mistakes happen, all the time in fact. He knew that, his team knew that. The dancers, staff, managers, security, to heck you get it they all knew mistakes happen. So Changbin didn’t understand why this mistake, this small error had begun to eat him up since the moment it happened

/ reminder: this is a work of fiction. I love these boys but nothing I or other writers depict is true about them. Also please don’t steal my work took a lot of courage to put this out here 👀👀

Mistakes happen, all the time in fact. He knew that, his team knew that. The dancers, staff, managers, security, to heck you get it they all knew mistakes happen. So Changbin didn’t understand why this mistake, this small error had begun to eat him up since the moment it happened. The concert was great, the usual adrenaline acted as added fuel to their jet lagged bodies. Something about America, or International STAYS was different. To him it was the air, crisp, maybe a touch dryer than home. Yet so refreshing. Rehearsal had gone fantastically, best they’d had. Everyone was on fire. Hyunjin was giving his all even just for practice. So when the concert began and the roar of the crowd could be heard as the intro began he was ready. His body bristled with anticipation, the desire to do his best flowed into his core.

Changbin allowed himself one more moment to hear his beloved STAYs before he settled his in-ears into place. His focus dived, almost tunnel like as he stepped foot onto that stage. He felt alive, every nerve ending lighting with the familiar choreography. He didn’t, couldn’t think he just existed. A space where everything in him felt on yet off. So beyond anything he could ever explain. The thrill of doing something he loved so purely. Then it happened. This one small moment. As one song drifted into the next they were on fire, he’d have to admit out of this tour he loved this performance best. STAYs made him feel so raw and so alive. His opening for My Pace began, he knelt down at the forefront of the stage. Carefully he leaned close to see the crowd at the rail. He did this every concert. With a smile beaming ear to ear he wished he could hear the crowd could hear his STAY. Then in a flash that joy was gone, one single misstep. A dancer fell out of their line, and that’s all it took. The next thing Changbin knew was a blur of movements. In order to catch himself he aimed for a set speaker to his right, missing entirely as he tumbled down off the stage. The momentum of his body sent him right for the railing the crowd stood at. Screwed wasn’t really the word he was looking for at that moment. But it’s entirely what he felt. Screwed.

Hands grabbed at him in all directions as he felt the cold metal rails meet his torso. Gods he loved STAY, but they were unnerving sometimes. The seams of his stage costume began to make a horrid sound. The clambering of hands that grabbed at Changbin began to become overwhelming. Soon he was being dragged over the rail into the crowd. Panic began to creep into him. How in the hell was he going to get out of this?? Suddenly he was yanked back, his body pulled from the hands of the crowd. When he looked up he sighed with relief, a familiar body guard had yanked him free of the people by his collar. When he turned back to look at the crowd there was this woman. Small in stature. Her entire being a guard between him and the wound up crowd of STAY. Then she turned hair whipping in its low ponytail as she gestured to him to get back. He took two steps but his eyes never left hers. “Changbin!!” The call of his name drew his attention away from her. Back to the stage. Chan was there hand over the edge. He took it getting back up performing like it had never happened at all.

Just like that he was back under the hot lights of the stage rapping his heart out to his beloved fans. The same fans that so quickly tried to eat him alive. An exaggeration sure, but he couldn't describe how else the feeling was. People pulled him left right, his body entirely out of his own control. If it weren’t for the body guards he was sure he would have been swallowed up by STAY. Daring a glance back he saw her again. It was remarkable, maybe she wasn’t that small. But there wasn’t much mass to her. Not like himself or the 6ft tall body guard that had yanked him free of the crowd. Shit he’d been staring too long, way too long. She noticed her head whipped around, her dark eyes met his. Changbin felt his breath catch in his chest as she stared back at him, her head cocked to one side. The way her hair swayed reminded him slightly of a puppy discovering something new. Then she spoke, her lips drawn tight before she mouthed something. He must have made a face, because she repeated herself and he understood.

“Are you okay??” she had asked, or really mouthed. A strange bubbling filled the pit of his stomach as he gave her a sheepish smile and nodded. It was pure adrenaline that had kept him going on that stage. As they exited he was still high off it, his feet bouncing left to right he wanted, no needed more. The energy was felt between them all, each of the 8 men buzzed with the after show high. They all sobered up a little as a dancer filed into the dressing room head bowed deeply as he apologized to Changbin for his mistake.

“No sweat, just watch yourself next time. Keep your line. I’ll be more careful too,” as the dancer slipped back out Changbin shook his head pulling the hem of his stage shirt loose from his pants. Half of them were already undressed when a soft knock came at the door. It wasn’t familiar to him. Their managers usually “knocked” as they entered, waving at them to hustle up. Dancers were usually louder, for they knew the boys always had a high volume rate. So this knock was new, gentle, and almost unheard among the banter of the room. Strangely he heard it loud and clear. Shirt in hand he walked over swinging the door open to find her..Under the dark stage lights he couldn’t really see her. Too bright over his face, and the house lights always dimmed for their stage. But here, in the warm fluorescents he could see you. To his surprise he had to look down. It was ever so slight but his chin tipped further to the floor to look at you, take you in.

One of your hands was still raised to what he presumed was to knock at the door once more. It lowered at the sight of him coming to fold at your chest. Shit, were they too loud?? Had you come to ask them to shut up..Yeah that wasn’t happening. Your stance was wide, feet shoulder length apart keeping your balance even. A stance he knew well from all his weight training over the years. Your eyes met his looking up through the hair that sat over your face. That look, a look many had given him before, a look many will give him again. But when you did, when you looked at him like that, the deep chocolate color stole his breath. A shiver wracked his spine. He swore in that moment no one had ever looked at him like that, never before, and never again will they. Not like you had irises cast slightly up in your rounded eyes, brows furrowed just the tiniest bit. “Uhh,” he gathered undignified..Shit he probably needed Chan. No chance in hell did you speak Korean, and there was no way he was going to fumble his way through English to try and speak to you. That was a given. So he had to will himself to look away from you, away from your pretty face to get his leader just to speak to you. Gods he wanted to speak to you. Just as he built up the courage to turn his face away and call for Chan you spoke.

“How’re your ribs??” you asked..in Korean. Well shit. Looks like he can speak to you..that was a surprise. A quite pleasant one in fact.

TAG LIST:

@taeminsung @maximumkillshot @feybin @alex--awesome--22 @liknws @palindrome969 @newbbystay @highlydestiny

#skz fic #skz x reader #stray kids comfort #stray kids x reader #stray kids #changbin #bang chan #hyunjin #stray kids scenarios

[theladyofbloodshed]

You're the Closest to Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 22

There was nothing unusual to Azriel about surviving off little sleep. It had been the way he had always functioned. After he had spoken with Nesta, neither seemed able to break the contact. Nesta had turned back to her chair and settled in with her book. She’d not objected when Azriel lounged on the couch next to her in a casualness that he never usually shared with others. Nesta had read in silence, the turns of her pages slowing as the minutes ticked by. He busied himself with reports from his spies as they canvassed the mortal queens' palaces. Elain’s words about withered hands and a crying girl had worried him, so he was reluctant to pull his spies from the Continent. When he’d next glanced at Nesta, her head was leaning against the inside wing of the arm chair, eyes closed in a peaceful slumber. For a long time, Azriel had lain there gazing at her while his shadows were content to do the same. When light began to leak into the sky, signalling the arrival of dawn, he stroked a finger against her hand to wake her and send her off to bed for a few hours.

The exhaustion that he felt as he waited for Feyre to emerge from her bedroom that morning had him grinning like a fool. He’d tire himself that way every night if it meant he got to steal a few quiet moments in Nesta’s presence. The bond didn’t need to be touched anytime soon. He wouldn’t push it. The fact that she hadn’t slammed the door and locked it was good enough for him. For a little boy who had never believed in hope, now that he had it, it was a dangerous thing. He had waited five hundred years to love her, he'd wait as long as it took.

Once, the argument with Mor might have stung. Her betrayal might have brought him to his knees. Allying with Eris was a necessity to keep Keir under the thumb. If Azriel could overcome five centuries of worthlessness, Mor could overcome her feelings surrounding Eris. His heart didn’t feel the bruise of her outrage. His heart was too preoccupied with Nesta to give anything to another female.

Even when Azriel had winnowed Feyre to a cliff near the Illyrian Steppes, his focus was off. He went through the basic instructions of managing currents and downdrafts, how the heat and cold could shape the wind and speed. His heart was elsewhere. Floating on a cloud somewhere.

We’re running towards a war and I’ve barely caught my breath but all I know is that I feel better near you.

Shit. That first part should have had him panicking, but the latter left him boneless. I feel better near you. It wasn’t in Azriel’s nature to put others at ease. Even Rhys was uneasy around him. Many times, Rhys and Cassian had to pull him back from the brink when he’d lost himself – and he’d seen their discomfort at who he was. Although he knew that Nesta had never seen that side of him, he had a feeling it wouldn’t disgust her. She might love him both before and after she learnt what he was.

‘Did you talk to Mor since last night?’

Azriel blinked until the pine trees weren’t a blur. Feyre’s body was held forwards to counteract the heavy weight of the Illyrian wings that she’d modelled on his own. Her hands braced on her knees to manage.

‘No. I haven’t.’

That was all he’d offer. Rhys likely had heard him arrive or at least felt him pass through the wards once he’d returned from a hurried journey to the Continent. Once upon a time, Azriel would have begged Mor’s forgiveness, begged even for a touch, despite knowing it was the right call to bring in Eris. She’d feel the slight, he knew. Feel aggrieved that Azriel hadn’t sought her out to apologise.

‘Again,’ he said to Feyre then jerked his chin towards the edge of the cliff for her to take a leap and fly.

***

Once again, that incompetent healer strode through the doors with her nose stuck in the air. Feyre danced around her, filling her in on the details of Elain’s conception through the Cauldron, as if Madja had not already seen to their lethargic sister many times. Madja was likely laughing at the amount of money she had been able to fleece from the high lord.

When Feyre perched on the edge of a chair near Nesta, bracing her body as if it ached, Nesta caught a faint whiff of night chilled mist upon her clothing. She knew that scent, but like hell was she going to ask Feyre why she’d been with Azriel.

Madja prodded and poked Elain again. Her magic spiralled around her frail body as the healer commented that she needed more food and fresh air as if Nesta hadn’t done her best to force food down her neck or get her outside as often as she could.

The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. ‘See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.’

‘How.’

Madja rounded on her, speaking as if Nesta was a small child. ‘The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.’

And that was how Nesta ended trapped at a table with Amren, receiving a verbal lashing every few minutes for not giving her undivided attention to the lesson when Elain had taken tea with Lucien. Her poor sister hardly knew what was happening. Their tea cups sat untouched with Feyre and Morrigan drinking their own on the table nearby, watching them like a pair of vultures. It was less about Lucien and more about the bond. Feyre was head over heels for her high lord, their bond well and truly locked in. Nesta needed to see a bond from another perspective.

Could Lucien really sense something wrong with Elain? Was that how Azriel had known how to help her heal? She was grateful that nobody else knew about them – except the brute. Nesta would rather figure it out without interference. Elain was not offered the same privacy to sort through her feelings, nor was she in a state to do it.

Once the lesson was done for the day, Nesta retreated to the smaller library in the town house to begin her research on bonds once more. Nobody tended to bother her. Everybody stayed out of her way which was how she preferred things. She took her book to the garden where she settled beneath a wide parasol to listen to the flow of the turquoise river.

It had gone well, to an extent. New books had appeared that morning which she suspected had been put there by Azriel, but they offered both good and bad accounts of mating bonds to keep her fully informed. For many, they were a wondrous thing. For others, they were an excuse for wrong-doing, a way to treat somebody terribly and blame it on love. Too much love became a poison.

A great shadow blocked out the sun entirely.

‘Oh, not you,’ she murmured.

Cassian snatched the book from her hands. ‘What’s this?’

‘A book. Have you never encountered one before?’

Uninvited, he flopped into the seat beside her. His hazel eyes scanned the first few lines of text which detailed a series of brutal murders enacted by a male driven to madness by his female who encouraged him to do it. It was tempting to use such a skill on this male with Azriel as her blade.

‘What’s this rubbish?’

‘I’d like to be informed before I commit to an eternity.’

‘So, you’ll accept the bond?’

Nesta gritted her teeth. ‘Why not say it a little louder? I shall not discuss my choices with you.’

‘Az is a great male.’

‘Yes, he is. But I care little for a faerie bond that I have no choice in.’

Cassian’s brows drew together in disbelief. ‘A mating bond is the greatest thing in the world.’

‘I believe you said the same about the steak you ate yesterday and when Rhysand tripped on the edge of the rug.’

The memory brought amusement to his tan face. ‘I’m an optimist who finds joy in the world.’ He glanced around the garden, as if wary of shadows waiting to chase him off. ‘You can’t really be debating this. It’s Azriel. He’s your mate. There’s a long line of broken-hearted females wishing they were in your shoes.’

‘I’m sure everybody is queuing to be submerged in the Cauldron for an eternity.’

Cassian folded his arms across his broad chest and gave a loud sigh. ‘What’s putting you off?’

Nesta snatched the book from the table where he’d discarded it and rose to her feet. ‘I am not discussing this with the likes of you.’

Before she could escape, Cassian stood too, his wings and head scraping the roof of the parasol. ‘My brother would love you deeply if you’d let him.’

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it. He wouldn’t do such a thing without a bond telling him to. Nobody would.’

***

Feyre was trying hard in her flying lessons alongside Azriel but she showed the same fear that he once did. It was difficult to override the panic of going too high, not trusting instincts to keep you in the air. Her landings were improving. She’d only hit a single tree that morning.

Azriel fished out the splinters from her hand and cleaned them whilst telling her of Miriam, Drakon, and Nephelle. He hoped the story would bring hope to his High Lady that she’d learn to fly. Hope was one of the most powerful forces in the world.

It came as no surprise to Azriel when Feyre declined the offer to fly with him the next day or to train with Cass. She met them on the doorstep, grimacing and bracing her aching back on the doorframe. Azriel handed over a tin of salve for her aches which Rhys would no doubt enjoy slathering all over her body.

‘Cass, can you fly Nesta up to the House? She’s not found anything in the books here about patching up the Wall. Maybe Clotho can help.’

Azriel tried not to feel slighted that Cassian was chosen for the duty rather than him. He knew who Nesta would rather fly her.

The sisters were finishing off their breakfast, Nesta in a pale grey gown that brought out the steel of her eyes and Elain in a dusky pink one. She seemed more lucid today – and Nesta looked happier as a result as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Cassian stalked forwards and reached right over Nesta’s shoulder to grab a muffin from its little basket. ‘Morning, Nesta,’ he said around a mouthful of blueberry-lemon. ‘Elain.’

Nesta’s nostrils flared at the proximity but Elain peered up at him, blinking twice as if she was trying to place his face. ‘He snapped your wings, broke your bones.’

Nesta stared at her plate, cold revulsion flooding their bond.

‘It’ll take more than that to kill me,’ Cassian said with a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes.

Elain only said to Cassian, ‘No, it will not.’

If only to take the terror off of Nesta’s face, Azriel extended a hand to Elain. ‘The herbs you planted are growing already. Let’s set you up in the garden.’

This is for you, he wanted to say as Nesta monitored him closely. To ease the burden and show you that you don’t have to do it alone.

***

Cassian shoved the last mouthful of his muffin into his mouth then sprayed crumbs across the room as he said, ‘The female that’s Az’s mate is blessed by the Mother. Lucky, lucky female.’

He licked each one of his fingers, making a smacking noise with his lips.

‘Really, Feyre, I thought your animals would be house trained by now.’

The wrong thing to say from the low, rough laugh that Cassian gave. ‘Ready for some flying, Nes?’

‘Don’t call me that.’

It was at that moment that Feyre chose to winnow, claiming she’d meet Nesta up at the house for their research.

Nesta threw a muffin at Cassian. ‘Will you stop with the heavy-handedness?’

‘Accept the bond.’

‘Stop it.’

They walked in silence to the front garden where Cassian opened his arms to fly her. The memory of Rhysand plummeting into freefall with her in his arms churned her stomach already.

‘Why can’t Azriel fly me and you look after Elain?’

‘Because Azriel won’t push this and I will,’ he gloated.

She was roughly hauled into his arms, the grip tight.

‘Do you understand the meaning of the word no? I’ve told you I don’t want to talk about this. Especially not to you.’

With a bend of his knees, Cassian pushed off from the ground. His sprawling black wings swept them up into the air with a few powerful beats. Nesta screwed her eyes shut once they were airborne, not wanting to think about the height or the wind whipping at her face.

‘Because I have you at my mercy in the skies, why won’t you just give him a chance?’

Nesta didn’t dignify the Illyrian with a response. Her mouth was so dry, she probably couldn’t even if she had wanted to.

‘He wants to love you. He’d be all in. Nothing left at the door. Don’t tell Rhys, but I think Az would be even more devoted. He’s not got a court to look after, only you.’

Nesta let him prattle on and on and on. It distracted her attention enough to not worry so intensely about the sheer drop if he let her go. In a way, it was nice to hear Cassian offering a glowing review of his chosen brother. Nice too to imagine how deeply Azriel might love her. But it all came back to the same thing: how much of it was free choice?

When Cassian set her down – more gently than she was expecting – on the roof, she teased, ‘It sounds like you are in love with him.’

‘He’s a beautiful male. Kind. Good. Never spends any money so his bank account is huge.’

‘Goodbye Cassian.’

With Cassian’s adulations of Azriel ringing in her ears, Nesta stepped a little lighter towards the massive library carved into the mountain. Feyre awaited her at the entrance. ‘Rhys gave a layout of the stacks. I think there might be more on the Cauldron and wall a few levels down. You can wait here or-’

‘I’ll help you look. That is my purpose, is it not?’

For an hour or so they wound down the spirals of the library, searching every tome for a shred of hope that they could repair the wall.

‘I didn’t know you couldn’t really read,’ Nesta said as she paused before a nondescript section, noticing the way Feyre silently sounded out the words of a title. ‘I didn’t know where you were in your lessons—when it all happened. I assumed you could read as easily as us.’

‘Well, I couldn’t,’ she snapped.

‘Why didn’t you ask us to teach you?’

Feyre trailed a finger over the neat row of spines. ‘Because I doubted you would agree to help.’

Nesta stiffened like she had been hit, coldness blooming in those eyes. That did wound her. Reading was her love. It always had been. Of course, she’d have helped Feyre if she struggled. Women who knew to read could go further in life. She tugged a book from a shelf. ‘Amren said Rhysand taught you to read.’

‘He did,’ acknowledged Feyre. And there, deep beneath the world, with only darkness for company, she asked, ‘Why do you push everyone away but Elain?’

Emotion guttered in Nesta’s eyes. Her throat bobbed. She shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in sharply.

‘Because—’

The words stopped. A ripple and a tremor hit them. It was like some piece of the world shifted, like some off-kilter chord had been plucked. They turned toward the illuminated path then to the dark far, far beyond. The faelights along the ceiling began to sputter and die. One by one. Closer and closer to them.

‘What is that,’ Nesta breathed.

‘Run.’

#nezriel #acotar

[bau-drabbles]

condescending Hotch thoughts (?)

i'd really like to write you a "normal" ask but my mind is plagued with Hotch and you just enjoying a night out in the early phase of your relationship and then things get heated when you arrive at his apartment. You would love nothing more than him having his way with you but he'd be all like "sweetheart, i'm trying to be a gentleman here, you really want me this much you can't behave after a date?" thoughts 😶

i'd really like to write you a "normal ask" but there are also Hotch surprising you (trying to) pleasure yourself but failing because your touch can't compare to his :( "sweetheart i'm home, did you- oh, and what do we have here? Having fun without me i see.." (all accompanied with a little smirk of course) you don't answer but you make a weak attempt at finishing your actions but you just can't 😕 "oh no honey, what's up? you can't finish without me cause I ruined you for anything else that isn't me?"."aaron...wanna feel good..." your tone is weak, you feel defeated but you know he's right. "yeah? you wanna? good thing morgan took some of my paperwork so i could come home early, huh?" you aren't understanding what he's saying anymore and you can only focus on the fact that he'll make you feel VERY good soon "honey? honey you there? oh i know my princess is somewhere in her thoughts but the sooner i'll make her cum the sooner she'll remember that it's my privilege to do so" thoughts 😫

or even Hotch finding out you want another child with him while not being so subtle about it one night you would just be there in your bed and he would start nuzzling your neck: "can't believe how greedy you are, i've already given you two children and you want to repeat it all over again? okay honey it's fine, i know your cycles and you'll be ovulating in a couple days, it's the perfect time"  you can't stay still at the thought of another mini hotchner growing inside you again and experiencing the path and the pleasures of a third pregnancy with him thoughts 💜

AGH I'D GIVE HIM AS MANY KIDS AS HE WANTS

🍐 anon (i usually go by this in different blogs, but if you already have a pear anon i'll change emoji 😊)

(sorry I am in a Hotch brainrot these days and my cycle isn't really helping but it makes me h word and emotional for him and my other 2636 crushes- oh how I wish fictional men were real)

OH MY GOD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 please i'm in LOVE with condescending hotch don't ever write normal hotch asks these ones are perfect!!!! 😵‍💫❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ESPECIALLY when you've been acting a bit like a brat and you're really needy but your fingers just won't cut it but he doesn't even help. he just watches you with a smirk, instructing you to continue with a cocky tone. "what happened, baby? what happened to that temper of yours??"

but then he does eventually take over, his legs separating yours and all of it was worth the wait when he practically devours you 😵‍💫

he's so in love with making you cum different ways, always teasing more out of you when you're overstimulated and panting for breath "come on honey, one more? for me, sweetheart?"

he always has you blurring the line between pleasure and pain, every cell and every nerve ending coming to life that erupts in a sensation that steals every single breath from your lungs. with every orgasm, his name rising to the heavens as they leave your lips sung only for him but meant for all to hear

you can't tell me this man doesn't have the biggest breeding kink ever 😩 you just look so damn pretty all filled with him, he can't help it everytime. his lil princess all filled with his seed, he can't help but devour you everytime.

i don't want babies but i'd have his in a heartbeat pls!!!

#asks #🍐 anon <3 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner

[usuibu]

Gravity

Masterlist

Part 1

Eren x reader

TMI but this was originally abt a guy i knew in school who i was crushing on,, it was years ago so i found it in my notes thinking it was abt a character😭😭 i quite liked it tho so i just swapped some features and now its eren,, i MIGHT continue it😋

Not proof read😕 prob will later

You sat in your spinning chair with nothing to do having already done the work. You didn’t hate this lesson in fact it was quite the opposite; you liked it therefore you finished things too quickly freeing up your time a bit too much.

Spinning and spinning and spinning, you stop urself slowly before it begins to make your head hurt. Stopping in your tracks, you’re direction of thought paused as you caught a clearer glance of the person diagonal to you, no longer blurred by the turning of your chair.

He too (and a few in the class) had already finished his work causing his eyes to also travel the room out of boredom. Your focus diverted to him, he was actually rather attractive when you really pinpointed his features, his sharp jawline, his pulled back hair, his ever so slightly slanted nose, his piercing green eyes, his broad and skinny hands, his muscular yet somehow lanky body structure—

You’ve been staring for too long although you are glad you looked away before he’d realise your unintentionally creepy manner.

With only boredom to blame as the sounds from the class blends into mere background noise, your mind begins to wander deeper.

Its only your imagination, who would know? Who would be able to tell? Its not like anyone is attentively trying to guess my every next move and thought.

Your eyes travel back to his shoulders, then once again his arms and once again his hands. His hands.

You cant help what your unfiltered brain decides to think? Its not your fault that you begin to imagine what his hands might feel like when running up and down your figure, its hopefully not your fault either as your mind runs to more lewd thoughts regarding his hands.

Quickly shooing away the strange thoughts judging yourself heavily as your eyes frantically dart around the room. A rush of guilt and frustration runs over you as you are just so so so bored. You swear you won’t let yourself get distracted next time, you don’t want to let this be a habit.

You’ve always known he wasn’t bad to look at, stealing glances every now and then. But this class was the only one you had with him, other than that you rarely saw him on campus.

Class comes to an end and everyone begins to packs up. You have no friends in this class either, Sasha and Connie have a free period during this lesson. With all the new busy movement in the classroom you feel slightly more at ease to stare again.

Shamelessly you eye him as he talks to two of his friends. One of them is blonde and shorter than him and the other is around his height and a lighter brunette than him. You recognise the brunette, Jean, having met him occasionally whenever he was with Connie and Sasha.

Both of them have their backs turned from you, facing him as they converse. You see them begin to move as the three are now walking to the exit. He smiles flashing his typical boyish grin while his green eyes light up as he laughs a little at whatever his friends were talking about. As he is about to exit, he scans the room ever so briefly catching your eyes for just a millisecond.

You turn away even though he is already gone, embarrassed in case your gawking was obvious.

#attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren aot #eren x reader #eren x you

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

A Kiss to Save a Life

Mention of death and blood.

Billows of smoke rose from the ruins surrounding you. In the distance faint screams of people falling victim to collapsing homes or being devoured by horrendous monsters who had been summoned forth by the towering looming figure approaching with earth quaking footfalls could be heard. As if night had fallen, the sky above your head was covered in a heavy blanket of darkness, leaving only the devouring flames as sources of light. You rose on shaking legs as the monstrous beast boasted with laughter as a single lone figure who had been standing against it fell to lay motionless upon the ground. Desperation filled you as they’re golden light flickered dangerously, like a candle’s flame about to become extinguished, and ignored the burning pain that was demanding you cease all movement to instead break into a sprint. Something lashed across your back that caused crimson droplets to splatter within your vision but it too was ignored. Burning flesh, stink of monster and human feces, and toxic miasma were burning your senses yet your tear filled gaze never once strayed from the fallen figure.

How had this happened?

As if to answer, a chortle of laughter came from the giant monster who came to a halt as if to watch your struggle. “Pitiful mortal. Struggle no more and succumb to my minions. All hope is lost now that he has fallen.”

Words that were meant to dishearten only made your bare feet move faster until something collided with your side that sent you rolling off course. A monster with three jaws attempted to target your jugular but it was thwarted by the appearance of familiar beast whose coat shone brilliantly despite the dirt and blood clinging to its lithe form. “Beset!” Your shrill cry was drowned out by the monster’s dying howl courtesy of the feline-like beast’s own attack. The tears spilling down your cheek grew when it discarded the deceased beast with a low growl before turning its attention to you, its nose lightly bumping against your leg you could no longer feel. Though appearing as an over large feline this beast was in fact a special fusion which bestowed upon it a pair of mighty wings which had often allowed you to traverse several leagues of distance; they were, however, broken and useless courtesy of the dislocated joints at their base which were littered with bite marks. “I am alright, Beset, but I need to go to him.” Its forehead met your own. “Please, take me to him.” Without hesitation the winged feline bent so as to slide you upon its back and became a blur to those who struggled for survival amongst Egypt’s fallen empire.

Your worst fears were realized though when after jumping over multiple obstacles and dodging several attacks the trusty spirit beast collapsed mere feet from his fallen form, causing you to tumble head over heel until crumbling into a heap within the dirt. He wasn’t moving, it didn’t look as though he were breathing, and no member from the royal court were within sight. Throat to strained from dirt and strain, your nails dug themselves into the ground in desperation as the sap of strength told of Beset’s return to the monster realm. Just a little farther…

Every centimeter felt like a mile as you struggled against each wave of fear and hopelessness threatening to steal away your hope.

Almost there…

The tears spilling from your eyes was making things swim out of focus…

Have to reach him…

Scuffed metal met the pads of your fingers. Polished gold was now cracked and tarnished, pristine white tunic was clinging to his form by means of a few threads, his upper torso completely bare for your eyes to behold each blood oozing wound upon his form and bruise blooming across his tanned skin, wild tri-colored hair even more so as his head lolled despite your best efforts to cradle it. “I am h-here,” you croaked while using every muscle in your exhausted body to turn him over and rest his head within your lap. Protectively, you shielded his being to the best of your ability when a large foot impacted the ground mere kilometers from where the two of you lay. Never had you been so scared in your life as Zorc the Dark One fixed his gaze upon you. Pure unadulterated evil was staring back, causing your blood to grow cold the longer your gazes held.

“R…run…”

Your head shook despite the trembling that had come over you. Those darkness filled eyes were causing the heart in your chest to slow from its racing pace. Almost as if stealing the very life force from your body. If you didn’t look away soon, you’d likely shrivel into a dried husk!

A calloused palm met your cheek, coaxing your gaze to finally break away from the monster’s to instead meet weary pomegranate. “Please…you must run…I cannot defeat him…” There was despair within his eyes, something that made your gut twist painfully when finding no other emotion within their depths. “…Forgive…me…”

One of your own hands rose to gently cup his own that was upon your cheek, giving it a squeeze. “My faith in you shall never wane, my beloved, this you know.” The dip of your head caused your foreheads to meet. The smile that raised your lips was meant to be encouraging yet it only made his facial features contort with grief when blood trickled from your nose. “I give you my everything, for I know that none can stop the Dark One’s advances. The world will suffer if he is not stopped here and now. The hope I hold is as endless as Nyx’s cloak, Atem, so have faith in yourself as I bestow upon you the last gift I can ever give.”

Whatever protest that he made to voice was cutoff by the gentle sealing of your lips over his. The lids of your eyes closed when droplets of moisture gathered within the corners of his own, attempting to steel yourself against knowing you were causing those tears of his. It was all you could do to keep hold of his form when he weakly struggled. However you held fast despite your injuries. His life force was depleted dangerously due to summoning the Egyptian gods who had been rendered to statues and it would normally take extensive amount of time for replenishing.

There was no time for that. Not today. You’d been studying in secret with Mahad and Mana as your teachers to the lost arts of magic. In a battle you were left helpless despite the impressive beasts that could be summoned but you’d insisted they teach you on transference of life energy just in case of emergencies. The promise of only using it in dire circumstances had been made once learning the spell and this was as good as any time to perform it.

Darkness rose to claim you as every ounce of strength slipped from your body like sand, leaving you limp and exhausted, yet you didn’t release him until breathing became too much for your body to handle. Warm built beneath your fingers in place of chilling cold, confirming that he was in fact receiving your life force and energy. Even the wounds you’d felt had grown scabs that would be aid in preventing infection. Just a little more was given, allowing his grasp to tighten enough to convey his want to stop you, and it was as the last drop of mana you held passed like a droplet of water trickling down a flower’s stem. “I…believe…” The departure of your lips gave rise to the last breath that earned his anguished cry, his hands and arms latching around you as the connection between body and spirit snapped audibly.

“(Y/n)!”

And your world was swallowed in a bright white light.

A breeze caressed your face as the call of your name came from the left. The voice was familiar, making a flutter rise within your chest when opening your eyes, and gaped when finding the magnificent structure that was the palace before you with glittering gold reflecting the high noon sun within a cloudless sky. People were bustling about in earnest as if preparing for a feast or celebration, streamers and ribbons of bright vivid colors diverting your attention first to the right then the left until you refocused upon the path leading inwards as the call of your name came again.

The blood stained battlefield you’d just been upon felt no more than a bad dream as you began walking. Trenches of crystalline water offered cooler rest areas for all who needed within the shades of tall trees, water lilies floating delicately within and creating ripples when the wind chose to play. Bustling conversations and coos of animals as they worked filled the air as your footsteps paused before the stairway’s beginning. You knew the palace like the back of your hand so this wasn’t the first time you’d traversed its seemingly endless ascent.

Yet something was making you hesitate.

As if something important was missing.

Up to your bosom a hand rose to find it unmoving. Not that you were surprised at all. There was no possible way you could’ve survived a full life transference spell; no one could.

Two familiar female servants, one with golden locks and the other silver, appeared on either side of the staircase to lead you off to the west hallway. Sandstone obscured the sun’s golden rays yet their decorated paintings were more than enough for you to realize where exactly they were leading you to. At the end of the hall lay a room you had nearly forgotten its appearance. The servants however did not let you loose even for a moment. They assisted in taking away the rags clinging to your form, bringing to your attention of just how filthy you’d become as they gently washed every spec of grime and dirt from your skin, then clothed you in the finest of silk and chiffon that was found within an exquisite wardrobe to the window’s side. Only then did they bow then depart to leave you alone.

To the windowsill you went without care, easily sliding your legs over its sill and treading lightly while balancing upon the wall below. You’d done this so many times that it no longer required conscious thought or worry. On their own, your feet moved swiftly towards the north; up the slope without fail, a tight turn, hop over the opening that was entrance to the room below, sneakily slipping past the quarters that were known as the High Priest’s private chambers, until coming to a stop beside the gate marked with a water droplet and water lily.

The conclusion you’d come to of this being the afterlife had been confirmed courtesy of the people you’d passed before entering the palace. Several had been deceased for at least a few years while others were by more than a decade. Seeing and experiencing all of this, including the sudden healing of your body and lack of pain, could only mean that you have also met your end.

“All is well,” a voice said to your right. The briefest glances revealed that Mahad was closely watching you from a pillar’s shadow as several guards and servants awaited his instructions. “They are preparing for the mighty pharaoh’s return. Best to be on your way now. Best not to keep his highness waiting.”

From beyond the gate came the call of your name, one that made your being warm and lips lift into a smile, and through the gate you went without need of more encouragement from the master mage who watched with a knowing gaze. Your nose was met with the scents of water lily and fresh water, along with several others that threatened to distract you, yet all attention became fixated upon the figure who slowly materialized ahead of you within the garden’s central spring. There was no doubt within your mind of who it was and this time your smile became one of genuine joy when their hands fell to your waist before hoisting you upwards while spinning on their heel.

He swept you within a tight embrace the moment your feet met stone, lean arms decorated with gold keeping you close as your own wrapped around his neck and torso. “Beloved,” Atem whispered while nuzzling into your being, “to see you once more is truly Ra’s blessing. After so much time has passed…I am thankful to find you here, awaiting me.”

Tears began trickling down your cheeks like twin rivers as you clung to him. “Forgive me, my pharaoh, I see that my strength was not nearly enough to assist in your battle though I gave you all I possessed. Yet here you are, arriving not long after me.”

“Hush, now, (Y/n). You are not to blame for events that can no longer be changed.” He gently soothed, retreating so as to clean your face with gentle fingers. Those pomegranate eyes of his shone brightly with adoration and several other emotions that you couldn’t hope to identify as he took in your appearance. “You fought valiantly, beloved, and your strength gave me courage beyond what I can express gratitude for. It was only with your encouragement and bravery could I have accomplished the otherwise impossible. I have much to tell you that I am unsure of where to start. I wish to naught be away from you from this moment farther and to save you from hearing such a nightmarish tale. However that would not be fair. You have my word, my promise, that I shall tell you all.” A tilt of his head caused your foreheads to meet, the lids of your eyes drifting closed as his did, allowing both of you to relish in the other’s company for a moment in silence, before loud trumpets caused the two of you to separate.

Amusement raised your lips into a smile as his head tilted ever so slightly with curiosity shining brightly within his gaze. “As if you need to ask. They have all been awaiting for you to join them, mighty pharaoh, and have prepared a magnificent celebration to honor your return.” Your fingers laced with his tanned own, earning a blink from the man as you gave a light tug. “Best to not keep them waiting.”

“Before we go…”

Your smile fell at the serious tone he used. “What is it?”

A glint appeared within his gaze a split second before his arm snaked around your hips, a hand rising to tilt your chin upwards. “I must repay you for something very precious, (Y/n).”

The inquiry that rose up your throat was drowned by a soft sigh as his lips descended upon your own. At first they were gentle, light as a feather even, moving in a slow dance that sent shivers down your spine as you willingly caved beneath his assertiveness, until he released your mouth with a smirk when you could do little more than gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “Do feel free to repeat whenever you see fit,” you teased with a smirk of your own and winking while slipping from his grasp when the call of your combined names came from the distance, “however your cousin, Seto, demands our immediate attention.”

“True. It is best to not keep that one waiting for long.” And with a smile, he followed you to the nearby balcony that overlooked the palace’s courtyard and earned a roar of welcome from those who had gathered.

#pharaoh atem x reader #pharaoh atem #yugioh x reader #yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #yugioh x y/n #pharaoh atem x y/n #pharaoh atem x you

[torreshalstead]

It Seemed Like a Good Idea - Chapter 10

Summary - Hailey’s US visa was due to expire, which normally wouldn’t be an issue as the CPD would get it renewed but due to a backlog of paperwork, this wasn’t possible. This meant Hailey was faced with the real possibility of having to leave the country, her job and everything she held dear. That was until Jay offered up a solution which would allow her to stay in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him - they could get married. Getting married was a good idea, right?

Chapters - 10/20

Chapter Title - The Party

Notes - just wanted to give a heads up that the posting schedule for this may change if I get my move sorted but I will post to let you know if it does. Happy Reading ❤️ AO3 Link

What happened next was a blur, there were congratulations from everyone but all Jay was focused on was the feeling of Hailey’s hand tucked snugly into his. She had said loved him. He knew she did, in a friend-kind of way anyway. You don’t become best friends with someone unless you love them but it was the way she had said it. That she loved him and she always would. It had sounded like she meant it.

But she couldn’t have.

She was just playing into the persona that they both had adopted to get her to stay here. It was an act and the words were just that, just words, without the meaning they normally held. But still, his hand was in hers, he was her husband, and the added benefit, he had got the chance to kiss her again.

Adam announced loudly that they were having a party at Molly’s, it didn’t matter that it was barely past noon, they were having a party and it was non-negotiable. Jay could hear Makayla cheering until Adam said that she could only stay for a bit before Jordan, Kevin’s younger brother, would come and pick her up. Even her argument that princesses like parties was falling on deaf ears.

‘We will meet you there,’ Jay said to the group when he realised he hadn’t heard Hailey say anything on the topic of the party. He squeezed her hand gently and she smiled up at him, the gratitude clear on her face.

‘Let’s give the newlyweds a bit of privacy and we will see you at Molly’s,’ Kevin said with a grin.

‘If you don’t show up, we will be coming to find you so be quick, we don’t want to find you in a compromising position,’ Adam said with a smirk and was rewarded with a slap to his arm from Kim.

‘We will see you there,’ Jay said firmly with a nod before tugging Hailey towards the exit of the building.

Hailey had arrived in Kim’s car but Jay’s truck was parked just a block away having driven himself to the courthouse with Will. Hailey was still quiet as Jay held the door open for her and she took a seat. It was their wedding day after all, what kind of groom let his bride open her own door, patriarchal connotations or not.

He took a brief second to steal himself before climbing into the driver's seat.

‘You alright?’ He asked her softly once the doors were closed.

‘We’re married,’ was all Hailey said, her gaze focused straight ahead but not on one thing in particular.

‘Yeah we are,’ Jay agreed, not sure if she was happy or sad or maybe even angry at the situation. He was struggling to read her right now, normally he was the only person who could read Hailey.

‘We’re married,’ she said but this time she giggled. Hailey Upton was giggling at the fact that she had married him - he wasn’t sure how to take that. She looked over at him, and Jay realised his worry must have been painted across his face. ‘No, I don’t mean it like that,’ she said quickly, reaching across to put a hand on his leg. ‘I just mean it’s a bit weird right, like we are actually married.’

‘I guess,’ Jay said, attempting to focus on absolutely anything but on her hand and its warmth against his thigh.

‘I know you said I’m not supposed to say it, but thank you Jay. I guess I never thought we’d actually go through with it but thank you,’ she said and before Jay knew what was happening, she had leant across the centre console and had pressed her lips to his cheek. She lingered for a moment, longer than she had done when she had previously kissed his cheek. When she pulled back her cheeks were a little rosier than they had been before and Jay couldn’t help but smile.

All the other times they had kissed, both on the cheek and when he had actually had the opportunity to taste her lips, it had been part of the act. Either in front of people or as practice for being in front of people. But this was just them. This was Hailey kissing him because she wanted to. She wanted to. And he wanted her to.

‘I think we have a party to get to,’ he said, clearing his throat a little and when she grinned at him, he had to grin back.

‘We should have guessed Adam would do something like this,’ she said, reaching up to pull her seatbelt across her chest.

‘We don’t have to stay too long if we don’t want to, we are the newlyweds after all,’ he said with a wink, shifting his truck into drive and pulling out, Hailey’s giggle still ringing in his ears.

——————————————————————————

Jay drove the long way to Molly’s; they both agreed that the slight delay in their arrival would add to the image that they were madly in love and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They also discussed that their wedding day would likely be a chance for them to be more hands-on and open about their relationship than they had been in the past.

‘So if we need to kiss?’ Jay asked, wanting to be absolutely clear so neither of them got caught in an awkward or a compromising position.

‘We kiss,’ Hailey said with a nod. ‘We can just stick together and go with the flow.’

‘Go with the flow,’ Jay agreed. ‘Let’s go face the music then,’ he said with a chuckle, climbing out of the vehicle and jogging round quickly to her side. ‘M’lady,’ he said dramatically with a bow when he opened her door. He didn’t look up as she took his hand but when he heard her laugh he had achieved his goal.

He’d never tire of the sound of her laugh.

They walked into the well known bar hand in hand and were immediately hit with a wall of noise; cheers, wolf whistles and a sea of people. Everyone they could think of was standing in front of them; their teammates obviously and everyone from the courthouse, the 51 lot were also there along with officers they knew from the district who wanted to give their congratulations.

Jay felt Hailey’s hand tighten in his slightly as they both took it all in but he squeezed it gently and then pulled her into his side, giving her the opportunity to bury her face into his chest under the guise of being overwhelmed - which is exactly what she was and exactly what she did.

‘You guys!’ Jay exclaimed when Hailey had reappeared, her smile back in its position on her cheeks.

They moved towards the group, happily accepting congratulations, best wishes and the odd slap on the back. He could hear people complimenting Hailey on her dress, and he couldn’t blame them, she looked like a goddess. Her cheeks reddened anytime anyone did, her embarrassment clear but they were all speaking the truth.

‘Let them breathe guys,’ Stella said loudly to the group and Jay was silently thankful for it, he loved their friends, he really did but having them all here like this, it was a lot.

Stella led them over to the bar and passed them each a glass of Champagne, ‘only the best for my favourite bride and groom,’ she said with a grin. ‘But seriously guys, congratulations.’

‘Thanks Stella,’ Hailey said but Jay could tell there was something playing on her mind. He assumed it was just being the centre of attention, Hailey was never a fan.

When she was awarded the Superintendent's Award for Valor and had to accept it in front of a room full of white shirts and big wigs and she had been trembling as she took to the stage. Platt had organised a congratulations party for her afterwards but Hailey feigned a headache and didn’t make an appearance. When Jay had shown up at her apartment later that night she had let him know how much she hated it.

A couple of glasses of whiskey later she had opened up and explained how it stemmed from her childhood when being the centre of attention would always lead to questions about her home life which was something she avidly avoided. Jay knew enough about her past to be able to read between the lines and understand why young Hailey would have preferred to stay in the shadows. But he also wished she could see why people wanted to celebrate her now, she was an incredible cop and a wonderful person. She deserved all the awards and accolades but he also knew that old habits die hard.

‘You okay?’ He murmured into her ear on the pretence of giving her a kiss on the cheek, his lips brushing against her ear.

He pulled back so he could see her face and she gave him a tiny nod and a shy smile, he wasn’t sure he believed her but Violet had come over to congratulate them and prevented him from asking any further questions.

——————————————————————————

The next hour or so continued in the same manner. The biggest drama was when Jordan arrived to pick up Makayla and the little girl refused to go before she had a photo shoot with Hailey. She demanded that since they both had pretty dresses on they had to get some pictures. Jay watched from the side as Makayla directed Hailey into various poses and Kim happily obliged to be their photographer. It was adorable to watch and he intended to get Kim to send him some of the shots - the one of them both holding out their skirts as if they were curtsying was precious and he needed a copy of it.

Once Mak had left, getting a round of applause from the group as she walked out waving like the Queen, the music was turned up and the party got far louder than it should be for 3pm on a Saturday afternoon.

Hailey and he stayed away from the dance floor, happy just to watch others indulge and lean against the bar, his arm still firmly around her waist and both of their hands not without a drink at any point.

Suddenly Hermann’s voice came through the AV system, ‘seeing as they are both avoiding the dance floor, maybe they were just waiting for the perfect song for their first dance. I am pleased to introduce the newlyweds who I have reliably been informed are not taking each other’s names but I’m old fashioned so please welcome Mr and Mrs Halstead for their first dance!’

Jay’s palms suddenly went sweaty when the music changed from the dance music that had been playing to a slow acoustic song he didn’t recognise. Hands were pushing him and Hailey towards the space that had been cleared for a dance floor and he realised there was no way they were getting out of this one. He glanced down at Hailey and she smiled up at him with the ‘it’s okay’ look that he had gotten familiar with since they had started this charade. He reached down and gave her a quick peck on the lips and then dramatically offered her his hand.

She blushed but accepted all the same and let him lead her on to the dance floor. The crowd was cheering and clapping for them but he chose to focus only on the woman holding his hand. He spun her around before pulling her into his arms, smiling at the childish giggle she let out. He held her close, an arm around her back, the other holding her hand tight to his chest, swaying in time to the music, letting the words wash over him.

You felt like home

Something so right in your eyes

Starting to believe we were always meant to be

He felt Hailey lean her head against his shoulder and couldn’t resist dropping a kiss to her head. He may be mistaken but he thought he felt her pull herself just a little closer when he did.

What are the chances you and I would be side by side

And I could never count the millions of miles in the world, but somehow

What are the chances you and I would be side by side.

As the music picked up, he was glad when others joined them on the dance floor and everyone was no longer solely focused on him and Hailey. Neither of them made a move to let go of each other however, nor to amend their dancing style to the faster beat of the middle of the song. They continued to sway slowly, their bodies as close as they could be, neither letting go.

Must be more than just right place right time, baby

As the music came to an end, he realised that Hailey had gone stiff in his arms, her hand no longer holding his comfortably but clutching it tightly as if her life depended on it.

He leant down so he could whisper in her ear, ‘Hails, what’s wrong?’ But he just felt her shake her head against him and press herself up against him even further, but it was no longer providing him the joy it was before. It was as though he was her life raft and she needed him for survival.

He was about to ask her again, no longer believing her when she said she was okay but a chant of ‘speech speech’ had started up as soon as the song died down.

‘Come on, time for the groom to give a speech,’ Will said loudly into the mic, having clearly wrestled it from Hermann’s grip. Jay shot him a glare but Will just winked back in response.

Hailey pulled back and pushed him gently towards his brother, the smile on her face small and Jay wasn’t sure it was completely genuine but he couldn't ask her about it now.

‘Fine fine,’ Jay said in defeat, his arms flying up in the air as he accepted the microphone from his brother.

‘I’ll have make it short and sweet because my darling brother here didn’t see fit to warn me in advance,’ Jay said to a smattering of chuckles from the crowd.

‘As many of you know, Hailey and I have been partners for a long time,’ Jay started, thinking quickly on his feet to say something that would appease the group, his eyes fixed on Hailey as he spoke. Kim had come up next to her and had wrapped an arm around her but he could still see that Hailey’s smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘Somewhere along the line, she stopped being just my partner and became my best friend and then we fell in love.’ The crowd oohed and Jay blushed. ‘Yes, we’re adorable. But seriously, asking Hailey to marry me was the easiest and best decision of my life and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with her by my side,’ he finished with a smile, and passed the microphone back to Will.

‘To Hailey,’ Will said, raising his glass in the direction of Hailey. The crowd echoed it back.

Jay strolled back towards Hailey and pulled her into a hug, she responded in kind and wrapped her arms around his back but he heard her whisper into his ear, ‘can we go home please?’ Her voice was quiet and shaky, unlike Hailey’s normally steady tone and her heads were holding on to back tightly, the fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket.

‘Okay,’ he said, not wanting to put her on the spot and question what had changed in her mood from a few hours ago. Taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her he tucked her back under his arm and headed towards the door. It was too much to think they could sneak out unnoticed but he was prepared to take the comments and the snickers as they bailed on their own wedding party, anything to get Hailey out of somewhere she was clearly uncomfortable.

As usual, she was his priority and something was obviously wrong right now.

Lyrics from Side by Side - The Shires

#upstead #Chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #jay x hailey #one Chicago #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fic #upstead fic #chicago pd fanfic #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

After Midnight | Jake x FReader

18+ Only; Smut; another Baby Jakey Quickie because he has completely taken over my brain.

Synopsis: With shifts at the restaurant and Jake running his own place now, there's little room left to focus on your relationship. But.. that doesn't mean you haven't managed to make up for lost time in the hours in between.

Words: 2.3k

Usual shout out to @ursulaismymiddlename​ and @salt-is-a-terrible-currency​

Link to AO3

There’s no way to tell what time it is when you wake to the feel of Jake’s arm thrown around your waist, tugging your backside flush against his front. You’d dragged yourself home earlier that night almost immediately after closing shift, too tired for routine shenanigans and rounds of drinks at Home Bar in favor of a comfortable mattress beneath achy limbs.  

But Jake has his own place to run now; too sucked in to its early success that he couldn’t leave business to anyone else besides Scott even if he wanted to - which of course, he did not. He had to have his hands on everything, even if it meant working up to ten or twelve hours a day. It could’ve been anywhere between 3 and 5 in the morning by now, still dark in the bedroom except for the glow from the television of whatever was left playing on Netflix. And given the somewhat recently installed blackout curtains, not even an early summer sunrise could give away the time.

His grasp is so snug that it makes for a slight struggle to groggily turn around and face him. You can’t tell how deep a sleep he might be in either. It’s routine now to wake up shortly after he’s joined you in bed, finding him anywhere from high strung and wired awake to so passed out, it’s a cause for concern. 

Right now, his eyes are closed. Features fixed in a rare scene of rest, even if those soft pouty lips still manage to purse while deep, even breathing moves calmly within him. Whatever time he’s had, he’s managed to shower before climbing in. His messy hair is damp, he smells of his usual pleasant body wash and a hint of toothpaste. 

So one of the better nights, then. 

Blinking sleep from your eyes, you take a second admiring his face. The straight line of his nose, the softness of black eyelashes blurring over his pale cheeks. He’s down to a raggedy shirt with holes in it and tight boxer briefs, and you can’t resist folding a thigh over his hip to pull yourself impossibly closer. Taking advantage to slip a hand beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips busied trailing across his narrow waist when you catch a hitch of his breath.

He’s responding even quicker when you steal a kiss. You can’t help yourself, even though a part of your brain frets over how he needs the rest, how you should let him sleep. But he’s already so close, you can’t not - it’s just a light touch, just a sleepy kiss - but he’s following, lips seeking as you retreat, one long arm rising from the mattress to wind around your shoulders. 

“Finally awake now, huh?” he asks, lips ghosting along your jawline. 

“Did you try to wake me up?” 

“No,” he admits after a beat. His eyes drift open with a handsome flutter, and while it’s nearly too dark in the room to see the bright blue hue of them, their searching gaze makes you swoon anyway.  “You’re too cute when you’re sleeping.” 

It was just a power nap, you reason, feigning alertness with a teasing rock of your hips.

“How cute?” 

The slip of his hand is almost instant; the fact that he was somewhat dozed off a second ago apparently forgotten when it snakes along your spine and possessively grabs your ass. Suddenly he’s rolling on top of you, mouthing into the crook of your neck and there’s not a lick of room to pull away - not that you want to. 

“Too fuckin’ cute.”

 A murmur of his name just barely passes your lips and your nightshirt is tugged, pushed and shoved up over your chest, exposing your breasts. Between his quick and persistent mouth, you let out a breathless moan, goosebumps already prickling your skin as he slinks down your torso to flick a nipple with the tip of his tongue. It peaks immediately under the heat of his breath, and you squirm with flooding arousal at the skim of teeth. 

“Not too tired?” he asks right before taking in a greedy mouthful. His hand delves between your thighs to revel in the heat there, palm sliding back and forth over the cotton underwear, fully insinuating the intent behind his question, and when you shake your head no, he slips it beneath them. Lithe fingers quickly find your damp center, paying the other breast equal mind while you start to writhe and arch into his touch. 

"Good," he murmurs into your skin. He's clearly needy and your half-asleep mind can barely keep up, not that it makes a difference at this point. These are your hours now, when late night begins to bleed into dawn. And more often than not, the time is spent like this: a passionate, albeit haste, often frantic tangle as you rush to devour each other.

Your body responds, all too conditioned to him, to this exact routine. Goddamn late night yearning.. 

It forgives any strain on the relationship. You both have made it work plenty, sure, but it’s been months since an entire day or night was spent together. The pent up frustration does nothing but pour out hot and aching in moments like these, and Jake, ever so thoughtful, never keeps you waiting longer than you have to. Two fingers gently twist into your cunt and your head lolls lazily back, loosing a groan when they curl halfway. He knows exactly what he's doing - works you up fast so you can take him before you're both fighting consciousness once again. 

"Good girl," he says softly, feeling you grow even wetter as he pumps inside you. Basking in your desperate, yet futile attempt to get him undressed - he won’t budge now even if it means taking off his clothes. He’s got you just how he wants you, pinned helplessly beneath him, and he merely sighs and grumbles low around mouthfuls of your flesh, anywhere from throat to ribs and back again.

“Jake,” you whine at him; too sensitive - too easily overstimulated in this state. You get his shirt bunched at the shoulders until his back is bare to the bite of your nails and Jake shudders on top of you. Soft chest and peaked nipples brush across yours, his quiet groan becomes a hiss. The marks will be red come morning and you know he’ll adore them when he gets ready for work all over again later.

His voice rumbles something hungry in the crook of your neck and he pulls your underwear down past mid-thigh in the next fluid motion. Enough so that he barely has to move, simply keeps you in place as your hips buck at him, spine curling into a perfect arch as his fingers slick over your clit. His breathing is rapid now - not remotely calm as it was in what feels like mere seconds ago - and his fingers speed up with it; bat at your swelling bundle of nerves until you’re close to combusting from the shock of pleasure bursting through your limbs.

“Jake - ah -!” you cry out this time, voice hoarse, knees drawing up his sides as you writhe.

He rucks his briefs down - just enough to free himself - the relief evident in the gruff exhale he huffs out along your skin. “Fuck, I fuckin’ want you.”

The weighted length of his cock strokes bare and hot against the curve of your pelvis, slips along the slick slit between your thighs, and you’re already canting your hips. All urging and and gasping shrill when finally he sinks deep into the wet heat of you with a single, long thrust. He fills, fills you completely and you clutch at him desperately. One hand clutching at his waist while the other lifts to the nape of his neck - scratches into black tousled hair until it forms a fist and you toss your head back, keening loud at the certain urgency driving the strength behind Jake’s pace. 

His long fingers clench into the meat of your thighs, pressing down, folding you beneath him and keeping you spread. He fucks into you like he’s running out of time, slurring whines into the soft spot behind your ear like a wounded animal and you’re left cursing aloud at the sound of him like this, sounds kept for you alone.

Your eyes roll heavy. You catch his face between both hands, drawing his mouth toward yours, and it’s nothing but sloppy as your voices die amid the hungry twine of tongues and clash of teeth. He moans at the sharp nip you take of his bottom lip, lashes fluttering at the tips of your cheeks, then hits at somewhere particularly sensitive so hard that your jaw clatters with a lewd shriek tearing its way through your throat. 

Jake mutters your name with a shit and a babe and a fuck, leaning back to finally tear off his shirt and your underwear disappears completely a second later but it’s even better this way. Your thighs frame his body, ankles locking at the small of his back, and the sounds of smacking skin on skin clap aloud in the bedroom. He pounds into you, you feel drunk and belligerent and weakly grasp at him as the bed creaks and rattles at the wall. 

“Fuck yes, Jake please,” you rasp, almost hissing. Feeling that orgasm bloom, teasing thick at your belly with a throb teased each time the head of his cock hits you just so. 

“That’s it, wanna fuckin feel you..” His voice hitches before he moans, hands cradling your skull in a half embrace. Lips spit-slick and swollen, smearing a smug grin across your cheek. You nearly laugh despite yourself and that low timbre of his voice shakes with you - a quick dose of intimacy, of adoration before you’re tensing, jaw unhinging with a sob. 

“Come on me,” he murmurs, and you’re bursting at the seams for him, for Jake. A violent throb like licking flames. You bite into his shoulder as it spills from you and he’s groaning praise as your cunt pulses around him, clenching tight. His forehead grinds against your temple, the beaded sweat of his hairline nestling into your skin when he lets himself go. 

There’s always a moment when Jake comes - when he grasps hard onto whatever he’s touching. A moment of abandon when he loses control, hips roughly slamming against yours like he’s suddenly blind and lost to the pleasure that consumes him. It happens now - his voice takes a rare higher pitch as fingers knot into the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. It elicits a hiss of pain, your palms stroke heavy and soothing over his ribcage, and he douses himself inside of you before falling slack in a tired heap.

Neither of you move for several weighted seconds, and thanks to the quiet air conditioning unit, the thick heat between your bodies is bearable enough to bask in. Jake nuzzles lazily, lips seeking, finding yours, and you take the moment to kiss something proper and slow. His heaved sigh fans your cheeks as he licks into your mouth, and your limbs relax on either side of him. Focusing on the slip of his tongue, the taste of it instead. Sending your heart aflutter just as you were starting to calm down.

When he pulls away, you’re grateful the television still happens to be on. It’s nowhere near bright, but you can see his face well enough, the ice blue of his eyes darkened into a hazy storm, searching the span of yours as he pants through parted, swollen lips. 

“Love you, boo,” you offer with a half-assed smirk, voice haggard. Jake’s smile is instant, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and when you lift a hand to cup his cheek, he leans into it with a tender furrow of his brow.

His voice is a low, tired rumble in comparison while he catches his breath. “I fuckin’ miss you.” 

There’s not much to be said about that; the words have been mutually exchanged so many times, keeping track would be pointless. You keep telling yourselves it’s temporary and won’t be forever and it’ll get better eventually, but there’s only so many words to keep the impatience at bay. It’s growing evident, chipping away at you both. Palpable in moments like these when you’re mostly naked, sweaty and on top of each other. 

So you give him an exaggerated pout, sticking out a quivering bottom lip, and he snarks back with an equally dramatic disapproving scrunch of his face. 

It eases the tension for now, and he rolls off of you, situating himself back into his briefs before turning to face each other in a tangle of arms and legs. 

“Let’s get breakfast tomorrow.” 

“As in later.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “You know what I mean.”

“You need to sleep, Jake,” you protest sharply.

“I’ll go to sleep right fuckin’ now then.” 

You raise your brows at him expectantly, but he stubbornly stares back, and when his lips slowly pull into a grin you smack your hand onto his face.

..The adorable face that never fails to make you cave. “Fine, fuck, what time is it now?” 

Jake makes a show of obscenely licking your palm, then glances over his shoulder. “Four-ish.” 

“If you get up around at least nine -”

“- I can take a nap with you after.”

You must admit, that bit sounds nice. It’s been a while since that bit. “... Okay.”

He’s pulling you into a firm embrace a second later, chest rumbling like a purring cat as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck, and the smugness reeks.

“Love you, too.”

#jake sweetbitter #jake sweetbitter x reader #tom sturridge #sweetbitter #my fic

[tyo-mimt]

29/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Quality time and acts of service are considered love languages, right?

There was nothing Donnie hated more than feeling unneeded. It was even worse when he felt like he needed help with something he shouldn't need help with.

Mikey willingly coming into the lab to make himself busy didn't count; the box turtle being there was more akin to having a willing lab assistant than needing an aide, but the brain fog made things hard to remember. He found himself missing details, forgetting and skipping steps, unable to focus on code. He had a whole laundry list of unfinished steps, easily thrown off schedule like a common man. The greatest and strongest part of Donnie felt like it was slowly being taken away from him, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he had to face the facts and understand that that might be the case.

So where did that take him?

"You look like shit."

"If you're here to interrogate me, go back to bed." Donnie squinted at the mess of code he had to read through. The lines were beginning to blur together. He had forgotten where he put his old glasses.

"Kicking me out already? I barely said five words." Leo threw himself onto a rolling chair, wheeling himself toward the softshell. The back of his chair bumped into the other's with a gentle jolt. Donnie turned around, scowl on his face.

"What do you want, Nardo?"

"Can't a brother look out for his younger twin?"

Donnie froze up at that, extending his arm. Leo chuckled, extending the other. Rock, paper, scissors. Leo's paper beat Donnie's rock, and the softshell could only relent to the statement.

"What are you planning?"

"You can't sleep, I can't sleep, so I'm better off making myself useful here."

"Right... I've never seen you in my lab, even to steal something," Donnie drawled, stifling a yawn, "What makes you think I'd trust you around experimental tech?"

Leo raised his arm. The prosthetic one. He crossed his arms afterward, "You taught me how to repair this for emergencies, which I have had to do before. Come on, Dee, trust Leon on this~!"

"I remember that six out of seven of said emergencies, I was also there to berate you on your shoddy craftsmanship."

"Yah, but there was also the one time you weren't there and the arm turned out just fine!"

Had him there.

"And if I were you, I'd have built this thing to not need as many emergency repairs as it does now."

Donnie rolled his eyes in response, turning back around before sliding a motherboard over to Leo.

"The wires are burnt out. Use the wire box on the top left shelf and find the thickest one. Because you already know how to replace those wires, I won't need to redemonstrate."

"Oof, giving me the easy jobs now?"

"Just be glad you're even allowed to touch that highly volatile component."

Donnie nearly missed the amused chortle Leo made, but it was a weight off his shoulders. The rest of the night followed the same structure: Leo finished a simple task and Donnie gave him another. The slider was still his signature flavour of annoying, but it never completely got on his nerves... It was even helpful at times, having another head to remind Donnie of a certain task in an irritating but strangely non-condescending manner.

At some point, the softshell did doze off on the desk he worked on, but Leo was there. He woke up the next day in bed with more mentally-listed tasks completed than forgotten.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #mystic jingle #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo

[archivewilliamrikerstblog]

Without You [2/2] - William Riker X Reader

Summary: Part 2/2 of Without You

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: SFW

Warning(s): Heavy angst - Descriptions of injury - Medical Environment

Author's Note: I will not let him be big sad in the next one I promise.

Re-Uploaded because when I went to fix some mistakes Tumblr decided to shuffle around paragraphs.

- - - - -

The day is a little easier to greet despite the horrid night; perhaps because there was hope to find with the passage of time.

The first place Riker goes after preparing for the day is Medbay, knowing full well that no one expects him on the Bridge with your condition still uncertain. Although his heart isn't truly in it, he does try to act his usual self as he passes fellow officers along the way.

Dr. Crusher is there as soon as she sees him pass through the Medbay doors; more then ready to fill him in. All good news - You'd done well over-night and after another round of treatment intended to strengthen the mended bone - you were taken off sedation. You could wake at any time, and if feeling up to it able to leave Medbay.

The news is more than Riker could have hoped for. It feels as if a weight have been lifted, if only by a little.

The Chief Medical Officer explains more as she leads him over to the room you had been in the day before. Trying to go over the recovery prosses that await you, he isn't entirely listening. Seeing you in clearly better condition then he had left you, steals his focus.

It doesn't matter to him anyway. Whatever needed to be done, however long it took - he would be there to help.

Dr. Crusher seems to notice, and takes no offense. She's just as relieved as everyone else is; both you and Commander Riker are well loved by many on the Enterprise. There isn't anything more for her to do but wait for you to wake, deciding it best to leave you in the First Officer's care for now.

Stepping into the room, Riker is quick to locate the chair in the room and move it to your bedside. He takes a moment to look you over; bringing his warm palm to rest gently against the side of your face. With his thumb just barely tracing the round of your cheek, Riker finds himself fighting back tears again.

He's done so well maintaining his composure - having even improved with the news the CMO had offered. He doesn't want to let go of it now, unable to unlearn hard taught lessons.

With tenderness so profound in his gaze, Riker is slow to pull away and settle into the chair. He is quick to reestablish touch, taking hold of the hand nearest to him. Remembering something he had once been told, he starts to talk. Voice thick, tight with emotion at first before finding steady tones, he speaks whatever comes to mind first.  Your hand still snug in his own the whole wait, reassured by the warmth of your palm.

-

It is the bone-deep soreness gained only from taking a hard fall down a rock pit that greets you first. Pain radiates all throughout your body, limbs heavy and stiff; all that remains from the damage done the day before.

Not that you remember all too well just what befell you. Yesterday is all a blur, due in no-small-part from the rocks that had pelted you from above. All you are aware of is that everything hurts, and you can't help but voice your complaints to that fact.

Testing your limbs, your fingers twitch and a warmth that had been around one disappeared. Your eyes flutter open as you hear movement around you, letting out a weak noise of protest at the blinding lights overhead.

A shadow falls over you, blocking out the harsh artificial lighting. You blink, trying to focus on the form leaning over you; a blur of color with red as the most notable. You can't help but panic and cry. Voices - familiar - assault you. Something is pressed to your neck and soon the pain seems to fade away.

Dr. Crusher had come rushing in as soon as  she was called. She had already suspected that you would wake to some discomfort - if not outright pain; and had been ready with the medication she was sure you would need.

Riker is reluctant to step aside to let the CMO attend to her patient. His heart racing, startled by your less than reassuring outburst. More than once he has to move out of Dr. Crusher's way as she checks you and the monitors over.

Dr. Crusher starts slow with her questions, asking you all manner of things. The news that you don't remember what happened is not a surprise to her at all, but not un-concerning. She does her best to fill you in, keeping to the facts of your case as not to overwhelm you. Once satisfied with her examination, Dr. Crusher orders you to simply rest for now and takes her leave.

Riker is back with you before the CMO has even passed the threshold, but he doesn't seem to know what to do or say now that you are awake. Standing once again at your bedside, moisture pooling at the bottom of his eyes as his pained gaze find yours. He breaths your name in a question as his hand slowly finds yours once more.

You need not be an empath to clearly read the flurry of emotions that surround the first officer. Worry and the last traces of grief cloud his normal bright gaze; relief in the way he holds tighter to your hand when you return the gesture.

Other than the vague stuffiness in your head from the medication, you feel fairly alright and begin to offer an apology. Not for saving the Captain - you would never apologize for that - but for having worried him.

Riker is quick to stop you. The whole ordeal had been nothing short of the nightmare for him, and the fact you would be well was still very fresh - but he won't let you blame yourself for it. It had been an accident of no one's doing. Had he been there, he would have done the same.

With Riker finally settling back into the chair, you try to offer more light-hearted conversation and he is eager to engage. Anything to pass the time until you can leave with him.

The pair of you are not alone the whole stay. Friends, both yours, his, and mutual come by now that you were conscious. At some point even the Captain stopped in, there to see about the recovery of the one who saved his life the day before.

Your condition had improved even more in that time. The medication having worn off, the pain is hardly there. You've already been encouraged to test your strenght while standing, which while not comfortable, its not outside the expectations given what had landed you in Medbay.

Shortly before the end of the day, after having seen to it that both you and Riker had at least eaten, Dr. Crusher is satisfied and releases you from Medbay. Dr. Crusher is strict with her orders, knowing you far too well.

She details what you should expect over the next few days and weeks. You would be off-duty for a short while, placed on medical leave to allow your body time to recuperate; but you should be fine to return to desk work within a few days. There would be need for some physical therapy, a break in your right leg had been tricky to mend.

It is Riker who cuts in to mention that Away Missions are off the table for the foreseeable future.  And Dr. Crusher is just as quick to mention that it is on her order - not his. As Chief Medical Officer, it is on her word alone as to when you are well enough to return to full duty.  

-

The trip from Medbay to Riker's quarters was indeed longer this time, but a lot less lonely. Riker--Will is a strong, steady presence at your side as he helps you along the best he can. Stubborn as always, you had refused the half-joke of an offer to be carried.

Only you would crack a joke about not want to throw out his back while barely being able to hobble your way to the Turbolift.

You don't pay much attention when Will calls for the Turbolift to take the pair of you to his deck. It doesn't really matter to you who's quarters you made it to; if Will wanted you at his then that was more than fine with you.

Will's warm hand ever present against the small of your back as he leads you through the threshold of his quarters as the door slides open.

Will is reluctant to part with you now that he has you out of Medbay, yet he does so anyway; carefully helping you into his bed. He lingers for a moment, both unwilling to leave you to attend to himself and relieved at having you here with him once more. It is only after you ask him to hurry up does he move, make off to prepare himself for bed.

Suddenly, it is like every other night you've joined him. Your voice once more filled his quarters as you lamented being away from the lab for so long. Just thankful that space is no longer coldly silent - He lets you complain, playful in his reminder that you can at least start desk work in a day or two, and you return back that writing reports is hardly any fun.

Coming back to you, Will asks once how you are feeling; wanting to know if you are in any pain before he joins you. Seeing that his worry has returned, you are quick to insist that you are just fine - only tired. Tired is to be expected. He nods once. Accepting your answer, trusting you to be truthful.

You move off your back and onto your side to be more comfortable, taking some of the pressure off of your back. Climbing into bed with you, Will settles so his large frame curls around yours; the warmth of his chest against your back a comfort to you both. Carefully he brings one arm to rest around your waist, on alert for any sign of your discomfort. Finding none, Will settles for burying his face against the back of you neck - effectively touching you as much as he could.

-

The quarters are quiet again, but not nearly as deafeningly so as the night before. It is a welcoming quiet, and is soon broken by a shuddering breath. You try to turn over, to look at the man who finally gave into the depth of what he felt now that he felt safe enough to do so with only you in his quarters. You  try to, but find yourself unable as Will's hold tightened for a second before lessening so as to not hurt you; begging you to stay and let him have this.

You feel the coolness of tears against the back of your neck and finally you can not take it. Moving perhaps a little too quickly for your newly-mended body to comfortably handle, you turn to face Will. Your hands find his face and guide him to rest his forehead against your own. Thumbs working gently to wipe away his tears, you encourage him to speak - to talk through this with you.

And he does. He finds his words easily enough, but his delivery is hampered by each tight inhale and choked sob. He'd never felt more useless and afraid; there had been nothing ge could gave done to prevented the accident, or even help you once you were back aboard the Enterprise. Hadn't known what he would have done had he lost you. You make his days easier, and his nights intolerable without you.

You do your best to listen, give him his time to speak, all the while trying to reassure him with your touch and biting back tears of your own. He's always had a way with words, always able to leave you speechless. Perhaps you had underestimated the depths of the love this man had for you.

There isn't really to much for you to say, nothing will change that has been done. You can only tell him that you are there with him still - that there is not place you would rather be. That he doesn't have to worry about it anymore, the worst didn't happen. Things would be okay.

Riker believes you - he has to.

Because he doesn't want to be without you again.

#william riker x reader #will riker x reader #riker x reader #star trek x reader

[thefloatingwriter]

Day 23 - Alone | Emmeline/Mary | @sapphicmicrofics

Also on ao3 <3

The first words Mary ever said one-on-one to Emmeline were, “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

It wasn’t meant for Emmeline, and Mary had apologized profusely for it, but sometimes Em still brought it up. On the days her wife decided to tease her, she would say it to every question Mary asked until she kissed the answer off her lips.

Then, Mary had enjoyed it, even if it did get a bit annoying at times.

Now, she would do anything to have her wife do that for the rest of eternity.

It was hard for her to focus on anything except Kingsley’s words. Her wife was gone. She was dead, like everyone else in Mary’s life.

She could feel his once comforting arms on her, now devoid of any warmth as Mary thinks that Em will never be able to hug her ever again. 

The rest of the Order would be arriving soon. The members close to her and Em would express sympathy and encouragement. 

Mary didn’t want any of it. She knew that Remus would be the only one to properly understand, after loosing Sirius only a few weeks before. 

Watching the doors of St. Mungo’s, Mary and Kingsley watch as members of the Order came filtering in. Alastor, Dedalus, Elphias, a girl she didn’t know that reminded her a little of Ted, Hestia… names and faces started blurring together. 

Remus came in last, his eyes rimmed with red and his face void of all emotion. He looked at Mary and they shared a look with enough emotion to fill his entire body.

Emmeline being taken to St. Mungo was simply a precaution to make sure Mary’s wife was actually dead. What Mary would give for her wife to just pop up and ask what the big deal was about.

But she couldn’t have that. She knew it as a fact.

Mary looks over to Kingsley as if people wash over her with sympathy. She’s surprised to see that he’s crying, fresh tears streaming down his face. She isn’t sure if she’s ever even seen Kingsley cry before. Not even when he was sixteen and he got one of the official letters from the Ministry telling him his father was killed in combat during breakfast in the Great Hall. 

Mary wasn’t permitted to see that. The original friends of his—Emmeline, Marlene, Pandora, and Frank—were with him and comforted when he broke down. She wasn’t included in that list.

Now she watched the tears stream down his face as he tried to stop his the wave of tears until he seemed to give up.

Mary looked back at the Order members and whispered, “Remus?” to the man.

He jumped exactly like he did when he was at Hogwarts and got caught doing something with the rest of his friend group. Mary’s heart ached when he thought of the stupid name they came up with for themselves. The Marauders. She smiles through her own tears. Idiots.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so caught up in my own thoughts I can’t even focus—“

Mary didn’t let him finish. She fell into his arms, crying loudly into his chest because she wasn’t tall enough to sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.

Remus stood motionless for a moment and then returned the hug, albeit a little hesitantly. 

Soon though, he squeezed harder onto her waist and let his head fall onto her head because he was too tall to rest his head on her shoulder.

“Sirius would be making a joke about how I’m stealing his ex-girlfriend,” Remus said into her ear, a little shakily and Mary realized he was crying.

She gave a little chuckle in response and then, because her brain hated her, Mary reminded herself that Emmeline would never be able to laugh again.

So she stuffed her head deeper into her fellow Gryffindor’s chest and sobbed as he cried into her hair, the other Order members falling away.

#dayne writes #emmary #mary macdonald #emmeline vance #i’m in my emmary angst era

[asajohnson]

                                          If I die young, bury me in satin                                           Lay me down on a bed of roses                                             Sink me in the river at dawn                                Send me away with the words of a love song                                             The sharp knife of a short life                                             Well, I've had just enough time

Asa had been having a great time at Mike’s party. He had been drinking, but not too much, he was speaking with friends he hadn’t spoke to in a long time and he’d managed to steal a kiss from Sasha who he had been crushing on since they met at the diner. The party was getting hectic and fights were breaking out constantly which he was putting down to the fact there was a killer on the loose. Emotions were heightened and he kind of understood why everything was happening all at once. He was ready to finish up his drink and head home soon when he was outside getting so much needed fresh air to sober himself up a little, a cigarette in hand whilst he was finishing it off.

The man heard some footsteps close by, assuming it was once of his friends he didn’t react much to it considering the party was heaving and he was pretty sure most if not all the residents of Hidehill were here. The party was a success as far as his opinions went, how could it not be? “I’m almost finished and then we can head back” he inhaled the final part of his cigarette, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. Once he exhaled the smoke he’d held in his mouth he began to turn around, it was cut short by a sudden thump to his head.

Asa doesn’t recall who hit him, when he hit the ground, when he was dragged to wherever or how he ended up in the situation he was in. His vision was blurred, he was seeing at least two of everything as he tried to figure out where he was. He felt cold, uneasy and as though he wasn’t somewhere stable. He felt as though his world was suddenly crashing down as he realised the gravity of the situation he was suddenly in as he came round a little more.

He felt blood trickling at the back of his head, his hands tied behind his back, he could see he was high up on ledge that wasn’t stable at all. Was that a noose around his neck? Oh fuck. His head pounding from being hit out of nowhere, he couldn’t think straight and the more he panicked the more he had no idea what the fuck to do in the situation. All the possibilities he could think of did not have an ending that he made it out of this alive. His eyes scattered the location he was in. Where the fuck was he? He shuffled on the spot trying to figure out what the fuck kind of contraption he was in.

He squinted his eyes a little to try and focus, the knock on his head not helping as he was pretty certain he was concussed right now. He could see some sort of wires leading to a door, the noose around his neck making it obvious what would seal his fate, the ledge he was on? He could only presume the wired door had something to do with that. He was fucked. Tears began rolling down his face because he knew exactly what was about to happen. 

The moment the letter ‘A’ was revealed he just had this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, he just knew it would be him. What the fuck did he ever do to anyone to deserve this? He thought about everything he had done over his thirty years on this earth. He’d spent most of his teen years nursing his mother through her cancer, he gave up his childhood to make sure his mother was comfortable in her final years on this earth, he packed his bags and moved across the world to learn his uncles business so that he could retire. He’d spent ten years in this town providing fish to the business’ and hadn’t made one single enemy. He had been nothing but kind to everyone so what the fuck had he done to deserve this? Nothing. Thirty years was no age.

He stood on the ledge with nothing else to think about other than the fact he was waiting to fucking die. Who would look after the business? Who would look after his dad now that he would be gone? Who would even find him? Where was he? How long would it be until he was found? Who was going to kill him? Would it be the killer? Would it be some poor fucker who stumbles across him? Is this shit on some sort of timer? Who the fuck was going to look after his dad when he was gone? He just had so many questions and no way of getting the answers anymore.

He stood there thinking of all the possible things when suddenly it hit him. He remembered something, he furrowed his brows at the memory. What the fuck? Surely not. It couldn’t be them.. could it? No.. they wouldn’t do that to him, he had never done anything to them? They were friends? This had to be a coincidence because he’d literally only ever been nice to them. His mind was spiralling over the thought when he suddenly heard footsteps close by, his thought process interrupted as the panic set in immediately.

“No! No, no, no! Don’t! Please!” He called out, he pleaded to the footsteps that sounded as though they were getting closer. The tears flowing out of his eyes as he called out to beg for his life. He had no idea who it was, was it the killer? Was it his fucking friend? Was it someone coming to help him? He had no idea he just knew the moment that door was pushed open then his life was over. His eyes flicking around the room from the door, to the ledge he was on, to the noose and the wires around connecting everything. His heart pounding in his chest as he felt helpless, he was waiting to die in this moment and all he could do was plead for his life.

The sounds of the ledge falling to the ground with a thud, the sound of the rope moving against something behind him as it moved to tighten up with the door opening, the room fell silent for a moment as the noose tightened around his neck leaving him to hang there, the rope swinging slightly with small creaks.

Everything was in slow motion from the moment he heard the handle on the door move, the creaks as it was pushed open, the moment something seemed to block it temporarily as they struggled to fully open it and the moment the ledge slipped from underneath him. Everything was slow for him.

#hidehillevent002 #tw death #tw murder