#what are prompt fics for if not getting back into the swing of things

[spacedace]

Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.

This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha

---

Well.

Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.

Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.

Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.

She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.

She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.

Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.

It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.

So.

Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.

That was a thing.

A weird thing with some big implications.

D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.

But it was still something.

She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.

“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”

Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.

“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.

It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.

Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.

Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?

He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.

—

Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.

Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.

She was scared now.

Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.

Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.

“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.

“Silence.”

Jon felt cold.

Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.

“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”

Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.

Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”

Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.

“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.

It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.

Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.

“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”

Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.

Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.

Elle was crying now.

He felt sick.

“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”

The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.

Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.

Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.

It was all wrong.

It was all perfectly fine.

The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”

Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.

Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.

Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.

Everything was perfectly normal.

D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.

He couldn’t remember why he was there.

Everything was fine.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dani phantom #danielle phantom #jon kent #jon el kent #jonathan kent #damian wayne #penelope spectra #vlad plasmius #super serious chaos #eventual super serious chaos #but for now there's far too many mysterious going on #spectra is the absolute worse and i hate her and I made her powers even worse in this #poor elle #poor jon #poor spectra when damian gets his hands on her #curious what yall think is going on here #meddling kids au

[bratphilia]

Heyyyy so I was the person that requested more fics like the flip side (it’s 6 am and I can’t remember if that’s what it’s actually called atm) but I was thinking about possibly a situation where reader has a history with William possibly when they worked at Freddy’s before they shut down and were younger (still of age though; I’m thinking probably when they like reopened for a little bit in the early 90s). Now in the I guess present day they aren’t exactly going out with mike but maybe they are a babysitter and mike and reader are pining over each other?? But him working there brings up bad past memories of your time there but you don’t really want to tell mike.

Honestly looking for lots of tension, slow burn, pining, and angst but not too much angst yk and ofc nsfw

Sorry if this is like too specific or whatever but this has been on my mind for sure

note: i did some age calculating to fit with the timeline so reader is 18 in 1993 and 25 (the same age as mike) in 2000. creds to michy for convincing me this was actually post-worthy.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader x mike schmidt

tags: threesome, rough sex, dub/con, age difference

taglist: @dilfity

triangle (w. afton x reader x m. schmidt)

(in november, 1993, you're a fresh hire at freddy's and the youngest adult on the staff at eighteen years old. it's not an ideal workplace by any means, but it's decent compared to other jobs that you most definitely didn't qualify for. and the people at freddy's are nice! maybe a little too nice, but the motto for the employees was "remember to smile, you're the face of the company" after all.

you work mainly as a waitress. you would say you're pretty good at your job. you're nice to the customers and work surprisingly well with the kids. the uniform is admittedly cute, too. red vest and a black pencil skirt. your skirt, for some reason, came in a bit too small prompting a few lingering glances from employees and patrons, but besides that you don't really mind.

it's a cold, rainy day in autumn. you wish you were wearing pants, but for once you're thankful for the lack of air conditioning in the restaurant. it's closing time and you're heading back to the employees room to grab your jacket and umbrella. you sit on the red, metal bench waiting for your sister expectantly. you never bothered to get your own license because she's always been a reliable source for rides everywhere. tonight was not one of those days. it's been at least an hour. your leg bounces up and down.

you hear the doors shut and a jingle of keys, and the distant scent of cigarette smoke lingers. you turn to see your boss, mr. afton, locking up the restaurant. he turns to you too, clearly confused why you're still here. "shouldn't you be home by now?"

you swing your legs and sigh. "my ride never showed."

he clicks his tongue and looks out to the parking lot, then looks back at you. "why don't i take you home?" you realize in this moment you and mr. afton have never quite really spoke. he's one of the thirty-something-year old owners of freddy's. he wears the springbonnie suit sometimes and performs with the co-owner, mr. emily, for the kids on fridays and saturdays. he's very charismatic and sociable, but mainly with the older crowd of the employees at freddy's. you hear some of your colleagues whispering about him, how he's such a kind and handsome man, which, as you're getting a good look at him right now, the latter is definitely true.

"are you sure?" you ask. mr. afton smiles down at you.

"sure thing. follow me." it's a huge upgrade to what you were previously considering before his offer: walking home in the pouring rain and chancing ruining your uniform.

you follow close behind him. so close that your umbrellas slightly bump into each other. a deep purple-paint-detailed mercedes-benz comes into view. judging by mr. afton's clear affinity for the color purple, as he includes it in at least one part of his daily attire, you assume it's his. he opens the car door on the passenger's side for you.

"thanks," you say politely.

in december, 1993, mr afton — who you've come to know as william — has become a frequent presence in your life. it started when he actually asked you if you wanted another ride home. you had phoned your sister, letting her know there was a change of plans. this became an everyday thing until you no longer needed to call home.

you would be lying if you said you hadn't started to develop feelings for him somewhere along the way. how could you not? he was just such a nice man! so charismatic, not just with you, but with the customers. always asking everyone how their day is going and dropping whatever he's doing to help out. there's was something special about your connection with him. he made you feel special.

it was one rainy day, just like the day back in november, when he stopped you and leaned in and kissed you. it was the most unexpected thing that happened to you in awhile. you don't know what possessed him to do it, but you found yourself eagerly kissing him back. so much that he chuckled and commented on it before sending you off. you spent the rest of the night lying awake in bed, touching yourself to every possibility you could think of.

the next day he avoided you, much to your dismay. you couldn't stop thinking about it. it slowed down your performance, making you distracted. the time just dragged on.

it wasn't until he called you in his office after your shift that you felt any kind of relief. he asked you to lock the door behind you, just like how one of those fantasies you daydreamed of started. with a fast-beating heart, you did what he said and turned to face him. and then his mouth was on yours again. it was much more sensual and yet there was an anxious component to it that made your stomach tingle with excitement.

"why don't you sit on my lap?" he suggested once he pulled away from you.

you froze. you've never actually done this sort of thing before. something delicious curls inside of you. gingerly, you sit on the thigh he patted on and he bounces his leg slightly, the fabric of his pants hitting just the right spot. he laughs at the yelp you give.

"just relax, baby. 's just you and me."

in january, 1994, is when kids go missing. everyone is on edge and patrons are frequenting freddy's less and less. on top of that, the animatronics are malfunctioning more and more, so there are even less customers due to the amount of maintenance that needs to be done.

you and william continue your routine: you fuck and he drives you home afterwards. but lately, something's been weird with william. he's been more... erratic? is that the right word? or just elated. he seems so gleeful, but more violent during sex. he's never showed any masochism until now. he even put a knife to your throat as he pounded into you, threatening to "fucking kill you" if you scream. you took it as just one of those things he says during sex, like when he calls you "slut" and "whore" but it's starting to scare you as it becomes a frequent thing.

it gets worse. you're taking the trash out to the alley when you see the security puppet laying limp. you go and investigate only to find charlie emily, the other owner's daughter, dead and badly hurt. like she's been stabbed repeatedly. you scream in shock and run in to find william, but he's long gone. instead you went to your co-worker, who called the police.

you were asked to stay at the restaurant until you after you were questioned and you told them everything you saw. you looked but william was still nowhere in sight. you walked home that night.

catching the killer was never something you were interested in. in fact, you hoped to do the opposite of some of your vigilant co-workers, who openly investigated the restaurant. some of them ended up missing too. the police had been called at freddy's on multiple occasions.

on one particular occasion, the last one before freddy's closed, actually, you went to the backrooms to catch a breather. what you found? william pouring bleach to bloodied clothes, bloody knife laying on a nearby table. you drop your keys in shock, alerting him. Turning on your heel to break for it, he grabbed the knife and your arm.

"tell anyone and i'll fucking gut you right here, right now," he threatened in a low voice.

you jostle your arm, desperate to break free. "please!" you whisper-shout. "i won't tell anyone, please let me go!"

and for some reason, he trusted you.

freddy's closed after that, and you swore to yourself you would take what happened to the grave. maybe you were a coward, but you had no solid evidence it was him behind the murders. it would all just be hearsay. no one would believe you anyways. william had such a high reputation, not just at fredy's, but within the community.)

--

mike hangs up the phone with a sigh. "so...?" you say, leaning towards his direction in anticipation.

"i took the job," he grumbles. his head is in his hands, running through his hair anxiously.

you throw your hands up in the air in excitement. "yay! we get to keep abby!" mike immediately snaps out of his sulking to bust out laughing. as he shakes his hand, he mentally adds your twisted sense of humor to the endless list of things he loves about you. and your distantly maternal role in abby's life. we get to keep abby.

you snap him out of his thoughts with a question. "who's the lucky employer?"

he laughs again in disbelief. "freddy fazbear's pizza. working in security. they need someone to watch the place and make sure no one breaks in and stuff."

you frown and furrow your brow. freddy's. william. "something wrong?" he muses, noticing your change in demeanor. you shake your head.

"no, nothing. i'm happy for you. sounds.. just peachy." mike shoots you a half-smile.

it's nighttime when it's almost time for mike's shift. your head is in your hands as you sit on the couch. it's one of those times when abby's off in her room, scribbling away with a crayon. you feel sick to your stomach. why did it have to be freddy's? who even gave him this job? why is it still there?

you hear a slew of curses coming from mike's room and decide to investigate. he's struggling with the loop of his belt and you can't help but smile. "need some help?"

he looks at you, face turning red. "you don't have to—"

"oh, come on," you sigh, moving to help him. "it's okay to need help sometimes." mike doesn't say anything, but from the way he's looking at you, he wants to.

"what?" you ask, but mike just shakes his head. you wouldn't understand. you decide to just leave it alone — mike's always been a distant guy.

"you need to be careful," you tell him with a much more serious tone than intended.

"why?" he asks, confused.

you try to relax your face and give him a lighthearted smile. "you should always be careful, mike! you never know what kinds of people you can encounter."

he has no idea.

two days go by. mike comes back home, surprisingly well-rested, until before his third shift when he casually mentions to you that he mainly just sleeps on the job. you freeze at that, worry forming inside of you in the pit of your stomach. "wh-what do you mean you just sleep there?! are you fucking crazy?!"

mike looks bewildered at your outburst. "i told you about this. i'm doing that dream stuff still..."

"okay, but do you have to do it on the job? do you have any idea how dangerous that is, when you're supposed to be looking out for any suspicious behavior." you're poking a finger into his chest, scolding him like he's a child.

"jeez, what's the matter with you?" he sighs in frustration. "if it bothers you that much then why don't you come with me and make sure i stay awake? i'm tired all the fucking time, and you know that!"

you know you shouldn't, for your own safety, but you have to think about mike. besides, if there's two people there, one can call the police. you let your paranoia, and your overwhelming care for mike, get the better of you. "fine. i'll come with you. put on your vest, grab abby, and i'll be in the car."

mike looks at you with sad eyes. you really didn't mean to be so harsh but it doesn't matter; he's more important. the drive over is silent, not that mike is really a talker anyways, but there's a thick tension in the air. your jaw and your fists are clenched anxiously, and you try not to look at him. when he parks the car he sighs and says your name.

the three of you set up camp in mike's office. abby sets up her tent and shortly falls asleep. you pace around the room while mike stares at the cameras, head in his hands with his eyes barely open. you walk over and snap your fingers in front of his face with a huff.

then something goes wrong. mike calls you over. "uh, i think i just saw something move? towards the offices." if it's potential danger, you decide it should be you who goes. not in a heroine sort of way, more of a need for closure.

you make your way slowly towards the offices. the dead silent halls make room for the only sound being your quickened breathing. you can practically hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. something rustles and, of course, it comes from wiliam's old office. you pray it's a rat.

as you push the door open, you breath a sigh of relief when the room is empty. that is, when someone slaps a hand over your mouth. "how truly lucky i am that you were the one to find me, lovely."

you struggle instantly but he wraps his other arm around your neck and pushes you further into the office. you land on the ground, hitting your head on the chair. looking up at him in horror, you cling onto the chair for dear life and get a good look at him. he admittedly aged well. salt and pepper hair and beard and all, it looks ridiculously good on him. "don't be afraid. i only want to make amends. i saw you were here and—"

"fuck you!" you spit venomously. "i don't want anything to do with you!"

william looks dumbstruck, then he scowls. the look on his face scares you as it contorts horribly. "what is it? is that boy? you realize i'm the one that gave him this job, right?"

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but—"

suddenly, william lunges towards you and grasps you by your cheeks, holding your face tightly. "stop acting like such a fucking brat. remember when you were such an obedient little girl for me? let's go back to that, yeah?"

before you know it, you're being shoved against the desk facing forward. "i'm gonna teach you some fucking manners." you scramble in his grasp but his strength is unmatched. you know what's coming next and it makes you feel something burning in your stomach that you try to convince yourself desperately is sickness.

he pulls down your pants and you begin to sob. "please!"

"look at you, begging for me already," he laughs. he's undoing his belt and you already feel his dick prodding at your entrance. if this was back in the 90s, before all of this bullshit, he would've had the decency to engage in some foreplay, but there's a sense of urgency that makes it all the more—

god, what the hell is wrong with you. you're so fucked.

he undresses your bottom half, leaving you just in your sweatshirt. "gorgeous," he comments. "just as i remember."

you feel his dick prodding at your entrance, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes in. it still feels as good as it did back then. he fucks you nice and slow, emphasizing each thrust with a slap from his hips onto yours. how does he still fuck this well at his age?

instead of picking up his pace gradually, like he used to, he continues to fuck you slowly. you're moaning uncontrollably now, clawing behind you at his chest, hoping he'll get the message and pick up the pace. he doesn't and just laughs darkly. "he doesn't fuck you as good as i do, huh, baby? you needed my dick to satisfy you all those years ago, and still need it now the way you're gushing on my cock."

you want to tell him mike doesn't fuck you at all, and that you're just friends, and that you only belong to him—

someone calls your name from the doorway. you and william both snap your heads towards the direction, only to find a shocked mike with his mouth agape. "mr. raglan? what the fuck is going on?"

"michael schmidt!" william practically exclaims, excited. he stops fucking you, purposefully burying himself to the hilt inside of you so you groan and squirm at the loss of stimulation. "come! come join us! your girl and i were just getting re-acquainted."

"she's not my..." mike trails off, finding himself moving closer without thinking. he takes in your appearance: bottom naked and bent over the desk with a fucked out expression. god, you're so pretty. you're always so pretty, but this is just...

no, this is wrong, he tries to tell himself. it's almost like william reads his mind when he sing-songs, "join us, or i'll kill the both of you."

like there was a devil and angel on mike's shoulder, the devil was winning. he's always wanted to fuck you and he doesn't necessarily have a death wish, either. "what, uh, what do you want me to do?"

your face falls and your mouth goes dry. william speaks with a grin, "why don't we trade places?"

mike scrambles to undo his belt and you practically drool when he pulls his cock out. fuck, you've wanted mike for awhile now. all that pent up tension between you two is finally spilling over the edge. all those lingering glances and long-lasting touches leading up this

especially like this, with your former fling and the guy you babysit for, makes it — and fuck it, you'll say it — all the more hotter. he replaces william's spot behind you and thrusts in quicker than the latter. he's practically humping you, fucking you desperately like he's running after something. his hands grip onto your hips tightly. "yes," william hisses, pumping himself while sitting dowqn in his chair. when you glance at him, he has the audacity to fucking wink at you. "'attaboy, keep goin.'"

that only encourages mike as he moans your name. "fuck, your pussy feels so good — hah!"

"mmm, mike!" you moan back.

"look at you two," william says breathlessly, "what a lovely fuckin' sight." mike begins to plunge in and out, reaching your cervix with each thrust, and you're close already. he senses that, and you can tell he is too by the way his thrusts gradually become more unbalanced. william's grunts are getting louder.

you're the first one to come, then william, and mike is still desperately pushing out of you. for good measure, he lands an uncharacteristic smack on your ass and then buries himself to the hilt becoming coming inside. the feeling of him filling you up is absolutely delicious. when he pulls out he studies the way that his cum drips out of your pussy. he's enamored with you, by the way.

#fnaf #asks #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

[sunsetreid]

i'd find you every single day [ s. reid ]

pairing : spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

summary / prompt : it’s been six weeks since the BAU found her, but (Y/N) still has nightmares from the five weeks she was held captive by her ex-boyfriend … yet Spencer is right there to help her through it even though she doesn’t want him to see her like this

requested : no

genre : angst (w the tiniest bit of fluff)

warnings : mentions of kidnapping / assault / torture, flashbacks that include abuse and torture, talks of nightmares, just a generally heavy fic

【 heavy content below - read at your own risk ! 】

She thought it was over.

The moment Aaron Hotchner yelled “FBI” and she was back in the arms of the man that truly loved her, she thought it was all over.

The beatings, the torture, the countless nights of no sleep she suffered at the hands of the guy she once trusted and loved. She thought that those days and nights were done and over with.

Yet, she lies wide awake again for what seems like the sixth time in the past seven nights. Her entire body is shaking from the nightmare that woke her up. Tears wet her cheeks. Her eyes are on the phone that sits on her bedside table.

Spencer told her to call him if she needed him. She did need him, but she always felt so bad when she calls in the middle of the night.

2:39 stares (Y/N) in the face when she picks up the device. With shaky fingers, she pulls up Spencer’s contact information. She sighs and presses the ‘call’ button.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up the phone. She bites her lip, holding back tears.

“(Y/N)?” Spencer’s groggy voice asks. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She wants to tell him everything. She wants to tell him about the nightmares and the fact that most nights, she relives what he did to her.

She begged him to stop. Pleaded with him. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair with rope, the skin was raw where the ropes cut into it.

She was so tired from all the crying and screaming. She was so weak from all the torture and blood loss.

“Please,” she cried as soon as she saw the knife in his hand. “Please don’t hurt me. I can’t do it anymore. Please!”

“Too late.”

There was a sharp pain that dragged across her arm. She screamed until she couldn’t anymore, but it wasn’t enough. No one came for her. No one was coming for her because they didn’t know where she was.

“(Y/N).” Spencer sounded more awake when he said her name. “Do you need me?”

At the last second, she says, “No. I’m sorry for calling and waking you up. I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Before he can get in another word, (Y/N) hangs up the phone. She puts it back down on the table before she curls up around a pillow. She buries her face into the pillow and the fabric of the pillowcase soaks up her tears.

A choked sob comes from her throat, followed by another, and another. Frustration and anger begin to boil.

How could he do this to her? He claimed to love her yet he caused her so much physical pain and suffering those five weeks. He has ruined her life.

(Y/N) hasn’t passed the psychological exam she needs to pass before she could return to work at the BAU. All she has been doing the past six weeks is sitting around her apartment with nothing but her thoughts.

She hasn’t even been able to sleep because all she sees as soon as she closes her eyes is the knife he cut her with and his eyes while he did it.

His eyes. That’s the thing she really remembers.

His bright blue eyes darkened every time he put the knife to her skin. It was like causing her physical pain made him happy and turned him on.

A knock brings (Y/N) out of her head and back to reality. She waits and listens to see if it was something her mind had made up. A second knock causes her to get out of bed.

She is surprised to see Spencer standing outside her door when she looks through the peephole. She unlocks all four locks on her door and swings it open. A pajama-clad Spencer Reid stands on the other side in his plaid pants and Caltech hoodie.

“I said I was fine, Spencer,” she spits at him, her voice hoarse. "Go home. "I don't need you here. You have work in the morning so go back to sleep. Sorry for worrying you."

Spencer frowns and takes a step toward her. She backs up a step. "Don't lie to me, (Y/N)," he tells her when he realizes that he isn't going to be able to touch her. "I know you, and even if I didn't, I'd still know that you have been crying. You're not okay, so here I am."

"I'm fine," she tries again. This time her voice is shaky and her bottom lip wobbles. She doesn't want him to see her cry again. Not over this. "Seriously. I'm okay. I just couldn't shut my brain off long enough to get any sleep. I swear I'm okay."

His face softens and immediately she cracks. He didn't even say anything and she's crying.

"Hey," Spencer softly says. He steps forward and envelopes (Y/N) in his arms. He puts his hands in her hair and softly messages it because he knows it calms her. "You don't have to talk about it right now but if you need to talk about it, then I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I don't care if you tell me you're fine or that you're okay. I'm staying right here."

She nods into the crook of his neck. His hoodie soaks up the tears that are rolling down her cheeks. Spencer reaches behind him and shuts the door. She grips the fabric of his hoodie at his waist and pulls him against her.

This is the only place she has truly felt safe in the past six weeks. The arms of the man she loves have been the safest place for her. They're warm and inviting, and it feels like they're the only two people in the world. She can forget everything that happened a month and a half ago when she's in Spencer's arms.

She closes her eyes as Spencer rocks her side-to-side.

(Y/N)'s head hurt. She didn't know what he did to her. All she felt was blood dripping down her face and blinding her. She tried blinking it away, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"Look at you, gorgeous," he said, one of his fingers running through her blood-soaked hair. "So beautiful."

"Please," she gasped. Her voice was so weak. "Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I promise if you just let me go."

He knelt down beside the wooden chair that she had been in for three weeks. He smiled at her. "No can do, my love," he told her. "It's too late. You work for the FBI. They'll come for me. When I'm done with you, I'll have to kill you."

"He was going to kill me," (Y/N) cries to Spencer. "I didn't know how much longer I had left. I did everything he wanted me to do so you had enough time to find me."

Spencer pulls back a bit and cups her face in his hands. Blood was no longer blinding her. She could clearly see how sad he was. "We found you and you're safe now, baby," he tells her. His thumbs wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'd find you every single day and I'll make sure you're safe for the rest of our lives."

A pout forms on her face as tries tries to stop crying. "I don't deserve you," she mumbles. "I don't-"

"You deserve everything good in the world, (Y/N)," Spencer interrupts her. "I don't care what he told you while he had you. They were all lies. I'm telling you the truth. You deserve everything good, you deserve all the love you get from me and the team. I love you, and I'll keep proving that to you until you believe me."

"You deserve nothing for breaking my heart," he snarled at her. She felt his fist come across her cheek again. She cried out in pain.

"That pretty boy you got for a boyfriend, he doesn't love you. He would've found you by now if he did. He doesn't love you. Your team doesn't care for you. It's been a month. You mean nothing to them, you hear me?"

There was another fist that came down across her face ... and another ... and another until everything went black and she could no longer beg for him to let her go.

"Come on," Spencer says. "Let's go lay down. Maybe you'll get some sleep.

Doubtful, but she doesn't say it out loud.

He leads her down the hall to her bedroom. He helps her under the covers before he curls up around her, almost like he wants to keep her safe from everything.

(Y/N) meets Spencer's eyes as they intertwine their legs together under the blankets. She buries her face into his neck and sighs. He smells like his body wash so he must've taken a shower recently.

Spencer wraps his arms around her shoulders and just holds her. His fingers run through her hair.

"I love you too, by the way," she whispers after a few moments of silence. "Thank you for finding me."

"I'll always find you."

He had been gone for a while. Nearly two days without food and water. (Y/N) grew weaker. She could barely hold her head up. She didn't know how much longer she could stay awake.

She had to. She had to stay awake. Falling asleep wasn't an option.

There was a boom above her and what sounded like footsteps seconds later.

"Help," she croaked. No one would be able to hear her. Not with how weak her voice was. "Help me."

A door opened and light flooded the room. "FBI!" a very familiar voice called out. "Don't move."

"(Y/N), baby," another voice said, panic laced in his voice.

With the last of her strength, she was able to lift her head up. She let out a sob when she realized that it was Spencer Reid and the BAU who stood in front of her.

It wasn't her captor.

"Spencer." Her voice came out as a whisper.

"I got you. You're okay," he said, breathless. Her head fell and her eyes drooped. Spencer caught her head and lifted it so she could look at him. "Baby, stay awake for me, okay? There's an ambulance outside but you need to stay awake."

The last thing she heard before she fell unconscious was "I love you. I'm sorry it took us so long."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

MASTERLIST

REQUEST GUIDELINES

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #fluff #fluff fic #angst #angst fic

[neteyamsoare]

brat tamer / tonowari is now live. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

ಇ new message from: anonymous. since you asked for tono fics you shall receive bestie👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏿💃🏾mean brat tamer wari plz 😻

ಇ current game. tonowari decides to teach you a lesson.

ಇ game warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, fem! metkayina! reader, mean dom! wari, reader being a brat, spanking + fingering ( reader rec ). words. 662.

ಇ slang. tsahik ( healer of the clan ) + tewng ( loincloth ).

ಇ things to note. this is the first prompt that stopped below 1k. anon i hope you're still with me, sorry i took so long with it. also, it's times like this that i miss tiny text on my fics. : masterlist / kinktober masterlist / previous fic / taglist

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who thought you had outgrown your spoiled ways from when the two of you were younger, especially now that the two of you were promised to each other. You still were the annoying girl who got on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time. That one percent was his crush for you, he always liked you from afar, especially because whenever you were close, you would open your mouth and say something snarky to him.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would allow you to talk down on him to your friends as if he weren’t around and would keep calm and ignore you.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would be tasked to help you collect herbs for your tsahik training.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would once again try to ignore you after 15 minutes of collecting herbs, having to listen to you talk about yourself.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would bite down on his lip trying to keep the growl from escaping his throat once you start talking about Nemrey, another warrior who's second best to him. How he was better for you, how he was so handsome, and how he would do anything you wanted him to do. As you tell him about Nemrey, your tail starts to swing from side to side slowly as you notice you’re getting to him.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would finally snap, grabbing your wrist and making you drop the basket of herbs as you let out a gasp. “Tonowari! What is your problem?” you queried but he didn’t respond as he towers over you looking down with a sharp glare and a low growl making your ears flatten against your legs and your tail tucked between your legs. “It’s time I teach you some manners!” He growled.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would sit on a log and bend you over his lap, loosening the knot on your tewng and letting it drop to the ground as he rubs the swell of your ass before a hard smack was sent to your ass making you jolt as your hand flew back to cover the burning flesh. “Move your hand, this is your punishment for acting like a spoiled brat!” He demanded and when he saw you don’t move an inch, he used his other hand to take both of your wrists on your lower back to keep you from moving.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would have you count the smacks that landed on your precious ass. “T…Twenty,” you whine as you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel another smack land on your ass. Barely managing to speak the numbers out as you feel your pussy clenched around nothing, you couldn’t help but manage to get turned on by this. This was your plan all along to see him get mad and put you in your place.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would watch your pretty self squirm but he knows that you’re enjoying it just by the sweet scent of your arousal. “You’re such a slut.” He smirked as he swipes his fingers between your folds, rubbing your clit a little, earning soft moans to exit your mouth. “Only for me, you understand?” You would nod your head as you push back onto his fingers, imagining as if it was his huge cock.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would continue to circle your clit with his thumb while two of his long fingers prodded at your entrance, sliding in slowly as he lets out a low chuckle at how you gripped tight around his fingers. He wastes no time in rutting his fingers in and out hearing the wet sounds your pretty pussy makes.

Brat Tamer! Tonowari who would continue to make sure you knew what your place was, mending you to be his good girl and it worked. He tamed you real good, that had people do a double take once they saw how the new you acted, and of course, Tonowari stood right next to you admiring his good work.

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꒰ stream has ended. — all rights reserved © neteyamsoare 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#ಣ : sylaphone #lunaskinktober2023 #tonowari x reader #tonowari x female reader #tonowari x fem!reader #tonowari x metkayina!reader #tonowari x you #tonowari x y/n #tonowari x reader smut #tonowari x f!reader #atwow x reader #atwow x reader smut #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #avatar x reader #avatar x fem reader #avatar x reader smut #avatar x you #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar x y/n

[floralcyanide]

― 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: bale!bruce wayne / afab!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, nipple play, friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of fear toxin (dcu), no gender affirming language other than anatomy description ⌯ word count: 2.5k ⌯ summary: based on these prompts: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” and “How do you always end up under my blanket?” your best friend bruce wayne has been missing for a while. when he comes back, he has a confession to make. ⌯ author’s note: this took a little while to write because I wanted to write an actual fic for bale!bruce. I hope yall enjoy (:

divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.

You’re busying yourself by folding laundry, trying your best to get your mind off your best friend Bruce. While his job is very demanding, and he goes away for a while sometimes, he’s never been gone this long. You’re beginning to worry- so much so that you’ve lost sleep and the ability to eat properly. But you know Bruce, and you know he’s resilient. It’s just a matter of time. But, of course, he was presumed dead for years before now, and that will always haunt you. So it’s not entirely irrational of you to worry.

A knock at your apartment door startles you out of your sleepy stupor. You set down the towel you were folding before shuffling to the entrance. You peek through the peephole to see none other than Bruce standing there. You swing the door open, and Bruce immediately wraps his arms around you. You do the same to him, holding him tightly, fearing that this is some hallucination from lack of sleep. Your face is buried in Bruce’s chest, and his scent tells you that this is real and he’s really here with you. 

“Where were you?” you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

It had been quite a few days of radio silence from Bruce. You know he’s Batman, and he keeps you updated on his safety status. But he, of course, doesn’t tell you details of the villains and crimes for your safety. You’re his childhood best friend, so you knew he was Batman before he even told you. The day he told you, you just laughed. “I know, Bruce.” But you were still very concerned about his well-being after trying to approach one of his enemies. 

“One of the guys I was after had a toxin,” Bruce pulls away from you, looking around to ensure no one would hear, “It got to me.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “Come in.”

Bruce enters your apartment, waiting for you to close and lock the door. He shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure of whether or not he should explain the situation at all. But he knows he owes you an explanation. 

“A toxin, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.

“Fear toxin.” Bruce clarifies, “It makes you hear and see the things you fear the most, but they aren’t really there.”

You shudder, “That sounds horrifying. And you said you experienced it? How long did it last?”

“I was out for a few days while Alfred worked with someone to make an antidote. I saw things. Things I didn’t want to.”

You pull away from the door and slowly walk to Bruce, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bruce looks at you as you stand before him, “No, but I probably should anyway. Considering the things I was seeing.”

You pull the sides of Bruce’s jacket together, holding onto them as you search his eyes. They’re different, and you figure it’s from whatever he experienced from the fear toxin.

“What did you see, Bruce?”

Bruce grimaces with a nervous laugh, “Are you sure you want to know?”

You look at him and nod, still clutching his jacket. 

“I saw you,” Bruce sighs, shaking his head, “Something kept hurting you and killing you over and over. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You stare up at Bruce with a frown etched on your face at the thought of your best friend feeling helpless. 

“That sounds awful,” you say.

“It just made me think about a lot and realize things I didn’t see before.”

Bruce turns his thoughts over carefully, choosing what exactly to say next. He had always loved you, sure. But Bruce never thought of it as a romantic thing. Not until the fear toxin made him see things and feel things he had never felt or seen before. He wants to protect and care for you so you never have to go through what he saw you go through. Even though it isn’t plausible that you would, Bruce still wants what is best for you because he does love you. A little more now than he did before. You, on the other hand, have always loved Bruce. You've been enthralled with his presence since you were kids playing in the Wayne Manor backyard. Everything he did amazed you, especially now with him helping the people of Gotham. His intelligence, softness, even the cockiness he sometimes lets seep through. Even before, when he was a slightly bratty rich guy, you loved him. Bruce's absence for days has made your feelings for him more intense. With love comes worry and concern.

“And what would that be?” you ask.

Bruce pulls your hands from his jacket, enveloping them in his, “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I love you and will always do anything to protect you.”

“I love you too, Bruce,” you say back, not realizing the total weight of his words.

“No,” he says, “I really do. It’s taken me this long to see, but I do love you. And not like a best friend.”

Your face softens, “Bruce, you don’t mean that-”

“No, I do mean it,” he says, squeezing your hands.

There’s a pregnant pause before Bruce slowly leans down to capture your lips with his in a swift, gentle motion. The world seems to stop around the two of you, the sirens outside quieting and the sound of your washing machine fading away. Bruce lets go of you and cradles your head in his hands, deepening the passionate-turning kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Bruce slips his tongue past your lips, battling yours for dominance, which you gladly let him take. He guides you backward until the base of your spine is pressed against the kitchen counter. Bruce moves his grasp from your hair to your thighs, where he hikes them up around his waist. He smiles into the kiss, and you pick up on it.

“What?” you ask, pulling away briefly.

“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

You feel a warmth spread along your ears at that confession. Trailing your palms up Bruce’s neck and past his jaw to his cheeks, you stare into his eyes. A smile spreads across his face into slight laughter, to which you mirror. 

“What else have you dreamed of, Bruce?”

“Want me to show you?”

A nod of your head leads to Bruce walking you to your bedroom, still perched on his waist. He gently lies you down on the bed before climbing over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. He lowers himself onto you to kiss you again, his weight on his forearms by your ears. Bruce then moves to your jaw, teasing you with small kisses and nips. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his stubble on your skin, tickling it. Bruce travels down your neck and then down to your torso, where he lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach. You watch with content as he tugs your shirt over his head so he can reach higher to your breasts. You don’t wear a bra when at home, so Bruce has easy access to them. He softly kisses your skin, avoiding the areas you want him most. You open your mouth to joke about it, but before you can say a word, his fingers pinch one of your nipples as he lays his head by the other. Bruce shoves your shirt to your shoulders, resuming his previous position of pressing his cheek to your left breast and toying with the right one with his hand. With a slight movement of his head, Bruce is now suckling your unoccupied bud. Your hips buck into his stomach, and you feel his length growing hard against your leg. Bruce gazes up at you through his lashes, his eyes a little darker than before. Your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in it. 

Bruce tweaks your nipple with his teeth as he rolls the other with his fingers, making electricity jolt through you. A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, your grip on Bruce’s hair tightening briefly. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your breasts before moving down your sternum and stomach, toying with the hem of your sweatpants. Bruce glances up at you to ask for permission, and you nod.

“You can touch me.”

Bruce pulls your sweatpants down, and you kick them off the rest of the way. He bites and licks the skin of your thighs before cupping your clothed heat with his mouth. Bruce flattens his tongue against you, dragging it upward against the cotton material of your underwear. You whine at the contact, wanting something a little more direct. With your hands still in Bruce’s hair, you remove them, moving them to pull down the barrier between you and Bruce’s mouth. He helps you with a knowing smirk. He softly kisses your clit before letting his tongue delve into your wetness, a sharp inhale through your nose letting him know it feels good. You would be lying if you had said you hadn’t thought of this exact moment before. Bruce steadies your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. When the tip of his tongue comes in contact with your bundle of sensitive nerves, you attempt to buck your hips up to no avail. Bruce is incredibly strong, so you had no chance of moving. But he begins to guide your hips up and down, making you ride his tongue on his own accord. You move with what he’ll allow along with his guidance, and pleasure flowers through you. Bruce coaxes a finger into you, the feeling of him exploring you with it making you moan loudly. When he finds your spot, he adds another finger to circle it slowly. You gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud again.

“No,” Bruce shakes head, pulling away from you and stopping his movements, “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you exhale, hands clutching the bed sheets.

Bruce resumes pumping his fingers in and out of you while pressing his fingertips to your spot every now and then, eliciting noises from you that you’ve never let out with anyone else. He laps at your clit simultaneously, and he allows you to move your hips freely as he spreads your legs with his free hand. You feel yourself becoming lost in pleasure, your head cloudy and letting out noises without a second thought. Bruce feels you tightening around his fingers, signaling you’re close to release. So, he pulls away from you and sits up on his knees. You wriggle at the loss of his fingers, but he quickly replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. Bruce holds you still with one hand as he drags himself up and down your weeping cunt with the other. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off as Bruce slowly pushes himself inside you. Giving you a moment to adjust, he peels off his own shirt and tosses it before continuing to thrust slowly into you. 

When he’s entirely inside, he notices you taking deep breaths, “All good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It’s just been a while.”

That and Bruce is well endowed, so you have to relax fully to take him comfortably. When you finally feel comfortable enough to move, you give your hips an experimental roll. Both you and Bruce groan at the feeling, to which Bruce pulls out a little before pushing back in. 

“Don’t be shy, Bruce,” you joke, “You can go faster.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bruce smiles deviously down at you.

He picks your legs up and lays them on his shoulders before he begins to pound into you, leaving you gasping for air. You grip Bruce’s biceps, his rhythm is merciless as your bed frame squeaks underneath you. He moves you upward to the pillows so you can rest your head on them and so he can grip the headboard for leverage. Bruce’s hips snap forward rapidly, just as he assured, and he has to put a pillow above your head so it doesn’t slam into the bedframe. Your moans are incoherent at this point, and your eyes are wound shut.

“Look at me, babe,” Bruce says, moving a hand from your thigh to your cheek, bringing you out of your fog.

You open your eyes to gaze into his, Bruce pressing his chest to yours and fucking you at a new angle as he puts his forehead against yours. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouth before finally embracing in a heated kiss. Deciding to switch up the angle, Bruce removes your legs from his shoulders and spreads them apart as far as they go. You howl into the kiss as Bruce hits that spot inside you, driving you crazy. 

“Right there, Bruce,” you manage to stutter, “Right there!”

He hooks his arms under your knees, slamming you against him even harder than before. Bruce presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. You curse, no longer caring if your neighbors hear you or your bed slamming into the wall. Heat builds up in your belly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Bruce, stars flooding your vision. He hits that spot inside you harder than before, sending you over the edge in a snap. Your walls clench around Bruce, causing his orgasm to unfold shortly behind yours. The feeling of him emptying into you coaxes your release to last longer, and Bruce not letting up on your clit adds to the overstimulation. You cry out as another orgasm washes over you, and Bruce hisses from his own overstimulation. He curses under his breath as he pulls out of you, hurrying to your closet for a towel. Bruce cleans the two of you up as you work to bring yourself back to Earth. 

“That,” you say, Bruce hovering over you, “was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Bruce says, and you both laugh at his cheesiness.

Rolling over to lie next to you, Bruce pulls the blanket on his side of the bed over him, and you do the same. But the ownership of blankets doesn’t last long as you cuddle. You manage to pull Bruce’s blanket over to your side, much like you used to when you were both younger. You had sleepovers a lot, and you’d always somehow end up stealing Bruce’s blanket.

“How do you always end up under my blanket?” Bruce sighs.

You peek at him, opening your closed eyes momentarily before shrugging, stifling a laugh. Bruce pulls your head into his neck before kissing your hair, allowing you to doze off. Even if the things he saw during the toxin’s hold on him were disturbing, at least it allowed him to see things more clearly and find his way to you. 

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader #batman x reader smut #batman smut #batman begins #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christina bale smut #floralcyanide writes #pop up workshop

[lirational]

Staked Claim

Shalom x Reader

A/N: A quick fic inspired by @inou-ie’s fic, which can be found here. I am getting back into the swing of things! I’m sorry for the wait everyone!

Warnings: Possessive behavior, strap-ons, mentions of drinking, jealousy, overstimulation.

Smut under the cut. Minors DNI.

The haze of alcohol had made you forget just what problem prompted you to come here in the first place. With the haze, came the lack of restraint, and that was how you ended up here in the first place.

Blaring lights and all-too loud music became a relentless assault on your senses. It took all your focus just to talk, and energy for you to put on a smile when a beautiful woman joined you, her voice a melodious contrast to the loud music. Emboldened, you reciprocate her flirting, awkward as it could be, and her laughter became fuel for you to continue, even as a sense of wrongness stirred from the act.

It was all in good fun, you figured.

As if Fate itself has heard your claim, you hear a familiar voice.

“There you are,” a familiar voice spoke, soft without betraying any trace of emotions. A cold hand slid onto your waist, the other reaching up to trace a line from your chin to your neck, a gesture to anchor you back to reality.

“Can I take her for a bit? My dear (Name) here seems to be bothering you, let me apologize on her behalf,” Shalom continued, each word spoken in such a way that each word tickled against your ears. The softness of her dress was pressing against your back, Shalom seemingly uncaring about ruining it.

While the other woman was stunned, you were helped up and brought back to her place, ice injecting your veins as you realize how absolutely screwed you are. A soft click from the lock, right as you felt the familiar softness of her bedsheets sealed your fate.

Perhaps, the most unsettling of all, was the way she smiled. A practiced, perfect smile, beautiful, yet enough to convey a threatening message.

“I warned you, didn’t I?”

Her smile didn’t falter, and a shudder went down your spine. All the haze from your drinking had disappeared, replaced by a stark, sharp clarity.

“Ah, Shalom, I’m… sorry?”

She let out a chuckle at your answer. Her smile almost never faltered, which allowed you to pick up subtler cues to her feelings. Right now, you could sense jealousy was brewing underneath her skin, barely suppressed in an ever-present, statue-like charm too perfect to believe if you hadn’t seen it yourself. “Here I thought you were restlessly waiting for me, while I attend a business party, but it seems you’ve been having some fun, hm?”

You gulp, the sound almost echoing in the quiet, heavy atmosphere. Then, she continued.

“You know, I don’t like my things being touched by anyone else, including you. In fact, I hate it the most.”

Her soft voice was like a lure, a false illusion projected to give you a sense of security. Limbs locked by dread, you could only watch, as she made a tantalizing show of removing her dress layer by layer, shedding the cumbersome weight inch by inch, slow and careful to stretch the anticipation and fear to an eternity. Though you knew there was no use bargaining with her at this state, you opened your mouth, hoping to at least convince her.

However, as soon as you tried to, she was in front of you, index finger on your lips, the cold from her skin spreading and freezing your pleas.

“Strip.”

It was a soft-spoken order, yet you obeyed.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that she had taken out the biggest strap she could find, its color stark against her pale skin.

Using your distraction, she was in front of you, and then pushed you down, the toy aligned to your entrance.

“You’re not—“

Again, you were interrupted, as she kissed you before you could finish. It was a deep, searing kiss that did not allow you even a moment to breathe, tongues tangling in a claiming dance until black started to dot the corner of your sight. Only then did Shalom see it fit to give you respite, letting you catch your breath as she trailed bruising kisses down from your cheek, to the column of your neck, your shoulders, and the valley of your breasts. Her skillful tongue swirled around your nipple, stimulating them into stiffness while her hand played with your other breast.

Your pleas for her to slow down were overtaken, drowned by your own wanton moans. Even without her eyes branding your skin with sheer intensity, she seemed to have a telepathic connection to your thoughts, ramping up her stimulations when you start to say anything other than calling her name, scattering any coherent thoughts to the wind in the process. With a wet pop, she released your nipple, looking at you in the eyes for a moment before reaching down to give your folds a quick swipe, humming in satisfaction as she felt slick gather on her fingertips.

“Feel it, feel just how wet you are for me.”

She aligned the massive toy onto your entrance, hips slamming to meet yours as it slipped into your folds to the hilt, your eager walls swallowing and gripping on it. A sense of relief came first, then there was pain as the toy rammed so, so deeply her hips were connected to yours. She didn’t take her eyes off you, taking your right hand and planting a soft kiss on top of your digits while her hips moved in a slow, teasing manner to allow you to feel every inch as she entered you.

Through the pleasure, you realized, it was the same hand the woman you met at the bar touched.

“What are you thinking?” Shalom asked, putting your hand down and tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. “Look at me. Don’t look at anything else.”

With that, it was as if she had let go of her restraints.

Her stare pinned you down, fingers gripping your hips until it left crescent marks as she slammed the toy into you over and over, her intensity a wordless threat to split you apart, each moment your hips meet sending waves of pure bliss throughout your body. It was in moments like this you regretted forgetting about her strength, as weak as she may be from what you have heard, as a Sinner she was still much stronger than you were. She only allowed you, no, coaxed you to call and beg for her name and nothing else, each plea spilling from your lips to continue becoming her fuel to keep going, to ram her toy inside you until something broke apart within.

Your climax came as an explosion of sensations blurring into one, pain, pleasure, and exhaustion racking your entire form as you spilled and made a mess on the toy. Shalom eyed the forming puddle on the bedsheets with satisfaction, the gleam of her gaze telling you all you needed to know.

Then, she waited, until the glazed over look in your eyes subsided, a sign that you have regained awareness, before pulling out her toy from your folds, all smeared with your fluids from the tip to the hilt. A part of you have expected blood from the way she split you apart with abandon, yet there was nothing, nothing out of place other than evidence of your own unraveling beneath her. Exhaustion gripped your form, yet, her cold touch on your neck froze you into awareness.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” she purred, “I want you to feel, to see what I could do to you that no one else could.”

With that, she tightened her hold, restricting your breathing. Through that little control she exerted, her touches turn sharper, even the little movements of her fingers as her other hand stimulated your bud, slow, careful, and romantic, as strange as it sounded. Unlike before, when she moved as if she intended to split you into two at the seams, desire heated up your body slowly, a gentle rise that forced you to feel everything she did while you grapple with your restricted breathing, your legs shivered, your thighs closing, perhaps in an attempt to escape, or an attempt to force her to go faster.

You obtained neither.

She pulled out her hand as soon as your legs close, earning a low whine that you wished you would never be caught dead making. Alas.

“Patience, (Name), you will get your reward.”

Rather than distract you, the order just made you more keenly aware of her movements. A part of you supposed that it was just her form of punishment. Your legs quivered with need, hands gripping the sheets so hard it was a wonder you had not torn through them yet.

Relief came like a refreshing wave of water, as Shalom finally, finally released your neck, allowing you unrestricted access to fresh air. There was no mercy this time, no overwhelming sensations to allow you the dignity to forget what she had made you feel, etching how utterly and completely hers you were even into the deepest recesses of your thoughts. She seemed satisfied, and you finally let go, exhaustion claiming you, yet a soft pull on your hair sapped all the fatigue, Shalom’s smile still gracing her beautiful visage, a contrast to the mess you have made of yourself and the sheets.

“Tired already? I haven’t came even once. Come on, you won’t need to walk for the next three days, would you?”

#path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere headcanons #ptn shalom x reader

[ja3hwa]

64 with vampire!Mingi PLEASE!! also congrats on your milestone you seriously deserve it babe <<33333

"Mark Me As Yours"

Prompt : 64 "I didn't believe in soulmates until I met you."

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : You forgot to tell your vampire lover your heat started. Now, he gets to experience that you taste like in the midst of it.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  1.03k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive, Fluff, Supernatural.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Vampire!Mingi x CatHybrid!Reader (Female)

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Blood drinking. Mating. Marking. Mentions about nests and heat. Description of reader becoming "softer" and "plump." Scenting. Scent changing. Mention of Yunho and health issues. Whimper. Mentions scent glands. Heavy Omegaverse Themes. Begging. Sappy shit. Pet names like Darling and Kitty. Swearing.

Note: ♥︎♥︎ Thank you, baby. I hope you enjoy this fic.

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It was a normal evening in the manor, Most of its residents have soon left for the night or gone to sleep. But among the normal night sleepers, like witches, wolves or fae, was a lone vampire, Mingi. He chose to stay in for the night, unlike the other vampires of the manor. He wanted a quiet evening with his love, a hybrid… You.

You were currently in the shower, getting ready for the movie night he had planned. You were super excited, never really getting time alone with Mingi, given he was either out working on the vampiric counsel or sleeping during the day. You didn’t mind, though, sneaking in while he was trying to prepare a nest of pillows and blankets so you would be comfortable. You tiptoed until you were behind his bent form, but before you could pounce, he turned around, catching you in his arms. He fell back onto the bed, landing with a huff on top of him. 

“Well hello to you too, Darling.” He stares up at you in awe as your big fluffy ears twitch at his deep voice. Your long, luscious tale swings with joy, following a big smile painting your features. You suddenly attack his face with kisses, drawing them all the way down to his neck. He hummed in delight at the feeling, but then, as he slowly slipped into a comfortable spot, a smell invaded his nose.

It was like a salty twang with a hint of orange and poppy seeds, mixing into your natural sent. His hands grip your waist harshly, twisting you both around until you were nestled under his larger frame. You look at him with surprise, ears raised and tail no longer wagging. His nose connects with your neck suddenly smelling the most intoxicating thing. Your blood has gotten sweeter to the point he could smell it through your skin. Your body was plumper, more squishy, and hot to the touch. “Are you?”

“Maybe…” You whimpered, making Mingi let out a groan in desperation. He couldn’t believe you were having a heat right now, and he’s been away neglecting you. When he first met you, he made sure to find out everything about hybrids, specifically cat breeds. He’s never been with you through your heats as you usually take blockers or pills. But this heat felt different, and Yunho, a wolf, said it might be a good idea to see it out instead of holding it off like the past in fear of your health.

“Fuck kitty.” You purred at the nickname, “You are going to kill me.” He moved, pulling you up along the bed so your head could sit on a pillow. He starts to push blankets and pillows around you forming a functional nest of sorts. He knew you would most likely fix and make a new nest later, but for now, the comfort of the soft fabric that was riddled with Mingi’s scent satisfied you for the moment. His warm lips connect with your scent glands, and it brings out a low purr from your throat. The fluff on your tail frizzes up from his touch, and your large ears bow in contentment. But what caught you off guard was when his long, sharp fangs gliding against your hot flesh, drawing a loud gasp from your lips.

“M-Mingi, P-please…” You knew what you wanted, but your dizzy brain made it hard to speak, your tongue feeling like it had been twisted into a knot. 

“What is it, my precious baby? What do you want?” His velvet voice melted your tense muscle and ached your core. You rubbed your hips against him in a pathetic attempt to relieve the pain.

“Want…” That’s right, what do you want? Your heart felt nothing but love for your Undead lover, and your pussy craved to be filled by him. But most importantly, you wanted to be his. Be marked you as his. He may not be a hybrid and share the same mating techniques as your species, but He had ways to provide a mark. His mark. If you so asked. But would he want to do it, be bound to you forever?

“Breed… Mate, Bite…” Words spilled out of your mouth before you could control it. Tears swell at the corners of your eyes. You needed him so badly, and Mingi knew it. His heart ached just as much, if not more, than yours. He never thought in all his years on this planet that he would find someone as special as you. Someone he could call his. Call his…..

“You know, I didn’t believe in soulmates until I met you…” He whispered against the shell of your ear. Tears freely pour down your cheeks as your fingers scrunch into his baggy shirt. “I love you so much, Darling.” 

“I love you too, Min. Please,” you begged again, and this time, Mingi knew what you wanted. What you needed. Going back to your scent gland, he kissed your hot neck before his tongue flattened against the flesh. He licked a strip before his mouth latched, suckling slightly. Moans were flying from your mouth, cries and pleas following. And before you would begin to beg once again, you felt his fangs pierce the skin, sinking deep into your jugular. Blood pooled quickly into his mouth, and Mingi groaned at the taste. Never in his life has he ever tasted such a sweet yet irony flavour. He was addicted, and if he didn’t have self-control, he would have surely drunk you dry. 

But alas, he did, in fact, love you. So he pulled away, eyeing the way some trickles of blood dripped from the wound onto the sage green velvet sheets below. There was a smile on your face, following a small hiccup. Words couldn’t explain how happy you were. Mingi, your undead vampiric lover, sealed a mate mark on your neck. And it may not be a full mark like other hybrids would perform, but it was your mark. A staple to say he was your and you, his.

- ♥︎

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #kpop smut #kpop #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atzsource #atz mingi #ja3hwa #ja3hwa posts #mingi imagines #ateez mingi #mingi smut #song mingi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

"Is it berries?" Bucky asks as you cradle your head and the phone.

You shake your head, hunched over your knees, still sat on the cold tarmac. "There aren't any berries here," you sniffle, "just flowers."

"Oh, well, is it a flower?" He continues to guess.

His coolness, his light tone, it makes your own world seem less dire. You hear a car door, a noise that seems to echo speaker rustles. You sigh and tell him no again. He's been trying to guess this whole time and it's starting to get frustrating.

"Alright, game's over, doll. What was it?"

You look up as a shadow strides up the driveway. You get to your knees as Bucky comes closer. You lower the phone as you stare at him dumbly.

"How did you find me?" You blubber.

"You said you were with Naomi... I can track her phone. I bought it. Plus she always ends up with that kid," he shrugs as he offers his hand, "come on, let's get you off the ground."

"Why?" You stare at his thick fingers.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Doll, let's not get into those feelings right now," he sighs, "please, you can't stay here. I can't leave a sweet thing like you out in the dark all night. Not like she did."

"Alright," you croak and take his hand. He hauls you up easily and lets you lean on him,.

"So, what was it?" He asks.

"What was what?" You murmur.

"The red thing."

"Oh, uh," you swing around and point, nearly toppling as he catches you, "the gnome's hat."

"Huh, never would've guessed," he clucks as he clings to you, "come on, doll, we really should get you out of here."

You let him lead you down the driveway. You feel very week as you let more of your weight lean on him. Your head lolls as your eyes threaten to close on their own. You open them as you approach the car and he opens the door. He sits you down in the seat and bends to get you in straight. His rough palms graze your knees and thighs before he pulls back, putting a hand on the roof.

"You good? Get your belt done up."

You nod and do as he says. He watches, looming over you, moonlight limning his figure.

"Good girl," he growls and his timbre sends a shiver through you, "I want you to stay awake for me, can you do that?"

"Yes, Bucky," you lean your head back and focus through the windshield, vision glazing.

"I know you can, baby," he caresses your shoulder and closes the car door. He gets in the driver's side as you hug yourself and chatter. "Cold?"

You nod and he reaches into the back seat. He pulls forward a grey hoodie and offers it to you. You take it and spread it across your shoulders. It smells like him. It's almost comforting.

"Right," he hits the button and the engine rolls over, "some music will help."

He turns on the stereo and flips to a pop station. You doubt it's his kind of music. He shifts into gear, giving you a long look before he pulls out.

"Doll, why don't you tell me what happened?" Bucky prompts as he keeps a hand on the bottom of the steering wheel, his other on the corner of your seat.

"I..." you sniff and take a deep breath, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah," he hums and nods, "did Naomi do something?"

You shrug and look out the window. He exhales as he slows at the stop sign.

"Did she hurt you?" His voice is gravelly.

"Not exactly," you lean into the door and cover your face with your hands, "it's not just what happened at the party... it's-- it's-- my mom. And Steve. And everyone!"

Your babbling. You can feel it but you can't stop it. The alcohol has you under its spell and fuels your distress. You just want to explode.

"Oh, your mother?"

"Yeah," you whine and pulls your hands away from your face, "her and Steve– and I can’t even go home–”

"Your mom and Steve?" He asks.

You snap your mouth shut. You shouldn't have told him that.

"Oh, doll," he coos, "I'm sorry."

His fingers stray down to your shoulder and he rubs it through the fabric of the hoodie. It's soothing despite everything. Gentle. You're tired. So tired. You just want to sleep. You lean back and yawn.

He squeezes your shoulder, "doll, stay awake. Remember what I said," he retracts his hand, "I'll get us home and you can lay down there, alright?"

You nod and peel your eyes open, "okay... thank you, Bucky."

"Anything for you," he says so quietly you barely hear him, "I'm gonna keep you safe."

🏡

The world sways around you. You can hardly lift your head. You open your eyes and see Bucky above you, feel his arms around you. He carries you throughthe shadows of the house.

You shift in his arms and he peeks down. "It's alright, doll, you tried."

You kep your head on his shoulder. You can hear his heartbeat. He's warm, he smells like cedar. You blink, eyelids sticking. He takes you into the guestroom and places you on the foot of the bed.

He makes you sit up, hands on your arms as he holds onto you, bending to look you in the face. You notice the fresh sheets, no longer the crisp white but patterned with dainty pink flowers. He brings a hand under your chin and makes you meet his gaze.

"I'll get you something to wear, doll, and some water," he explains.

You murmur and nod. He lets you go and reluctantly turns away. He stalks off as you lean over your lap, elbows on your thighs as you struggle not to fold.

"Here," he surprises you as he comes in again, "there's a shirt for you."

He hands you a tidy white tee shirt, one of his. You thank him through your sticky mouth. He goes to the night table and puts down the glass of water in his other hand.

"Make sure you drink that before you lay down," he says.

"I will," you whisper.

He goes again as you tug at the dress. You slip free of the tight sheath, tits falling out as you stand in nothing but your panties. You swoop the shirt over you and struggle to poke your head through. You grab the water and gulp it down, feeling it swish into your belly.

You put the glass back and turn to the bed. You teeter and fall onto the mattress, sprawled on your stomach.

You hear a subtle creak. Bucky's footfalls lightly glance over the floor and he sets a bucket next to your bed.

"Just in case," he touches your shoulder, "try not to roll onto your back."

"Got it," you utter sleepily and close your eyes, another yawn escaping you.

He drags his hand away and you feel him tug on your tee shirt, pulling the hem to cover the edge of your panties. He then drapes the blanket over you before retreating with a soft 'good night'. The light turns off and you're left in the dark, quickly succumbing to a drunken stupour.

🏡

You feel like you’re drowning in sludge. The morning blares over you from the window as you emerge from the deep pit of alcohol-laced sleep. You groan and stiffly bend your arm, pressing a palm to your forehead as it pulses. This is why you don’t drink, it’s not worth it.

Confusion comes after the onslaught of agony. You stare at the ceiling, taking in the room little by little. Your mind pieces together how you got there. The party, Naomi grabbing you, kissing you, running out… fractured memories that lead to that very moment.

You push yourself up with aching arms. You didn’t expect to be back here. You don’t know how to do this. After all he’s done, you feel like you owe Bucky. You can at least hear him out. He can’t be as bad as Naomi claims if he’s the only one trying to take care of you.

You get up, stopping to lean on the night table. Your hand trails onto the empty glass and you pick it up. It’s as good an excuse as any.

You go out into the hall, peering up and down. You pad along towards the kitchen, an eeriness follows you knowing that it’s only you and Bucky. You’re not surprised to find him waiting in the kitchen. He always seems to be a step ahead of you.

The smell of coffee draws a rumble from your stomach. You look sheepishly at your host and show the glass, going to the sink to rinse it. As you place it in the rack, he takes down a mug and fills it, sliding it towards you. He’s the first to speak.

“Morning,” he waits, watching you as you hook your fingers through the handle of the cup.

“Morning,” you eke out, too nervous to try the coffee. You inhale and make yourself look at him, “I’m sorry–”

“I should be sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have let you go with Naomi. I should’ve told the truth. Way before that. I shouldn’t have gone along with any of it.”

You stare at him. His blue eyes flicker as his cheek dimples, anxiety needling in his forehead. He gestures towards your hand on the cup.

“Please, have your coffee.”

You drag the mug to the edge and lift it. You drink with a long hum. Oh, it feels good. You pull the brim away from your lips and swallow thickly. You clear your throat and peek up at him again.

“So it’s all true?” You ask, hoarsely.

“I don’t know what she told you but…” he hesitates, “I’m not her father.”

“Yeah,” you agree crisply.

“I can show you,” he turns and reaches for his phone, “everything. Right here. This is what she sent me the first time she brought you over.”

He shows you the screen, holding his thumb down to keep the chat from rolling back up. You see Naomi’s name at the top of the chat and the bubbles back and forth. You read the received message by his thumb.

‘Bringing a friend. Please say you’re my dad, don’t wanna freak her out.’

You chew your lip. It doesn't disprove anything she told you. You frown and he starts to flick through the conversation.

“Look, just tell me the truth,” you demand, though your tone is less than intimidating.

He sighs and lowers the phone, “we have an arrangement. I support her and she… supports me. In a way.” He looks down ashamed, “I’m not going to make excuses. I could say I was lonely, newly divorced, stupid. It was convenient–”

“She was vulnerable,” you suggest.

He nods, “that’s true. But I never intended… when she brought you…” He pokes his tongue out and closes his eyes, “I’m trying to just explain but there’s so much. Thing’s fizzled out.

"When she got back from college, she was just angry all the time so I gave her space. I told her that we could end things but I would help her find a place, keep paying her tuition and she could make it up to me later. When she got a job.”

He backs up and leans on the counter. He crosses his arms and raises his head. He looks tired, drawn.

“She brought you over and you’re so nice and it was– is refreshing. To have someone look at you without hate. My ex-wife, she had the same look as Naomi got. I don’t know what I did,” he sniffs, “but I’m sure I deserved it. I guess I’m needy.”

“Alright,” you mutter, unsure what else to say. Two sides of the same story. They line up, to a point.

“I know I can’t ask you to trust me. If I was you, I’d be… I’d be confused, creeped out, everything. I really don’t know what to say or do at this point. I called you over and over thinking I could explain myself out of it but there’s no excuse. And then you answered and you were drunk and crying and I came without thinking. Because I know Naomi, she’s destructive and I thought maybe she got you into trouble.

“And then you mentioned your mom and well, that broke my heart. I really can’t believe that she’d kick you out. Her own child. Even Mimi’s parents weren’t that cruel.”

You blanch and take another swig of coffee, trying to set yourself straight. 

“They didn’t? Her parents didn’t kick her out?”

“No,” a stitch forms in his forehead, “no, I guess she stormed out after some argument. They suggested maybe she stay and go to school here but she didn’t like that. She was on Steve’s couch for a while and then ended up here. Wanda got a bit crowded.”

You try to hide your surprise. You put the cup back on the counter and stare into the depths. Naomi lied. Maybe not about everything but she made it seem much more sinister.

“Doll,” Bucky rasps, “you okay? You gonna be sick or something?”

You bat your lashes, fighting back tears. You’re lost. You don’t know who to believe but your best bet is the one who isn’t groping you for her friends or cornering you when you’re alone. Your lip quivers as you search for a response.

“I… I believe you,” you breathe.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #all the good girls go to hell #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[ma1dita]

liar, liar

part two cn be found here-> truth be told

words: little under 2k

summary: sirius black is a good liar. spot how many times sirius lies in this fic.

warnings: slight nondescript smut!! errr cursing & another self-deprecating marauder, mostly unrequited love/being led on, sirius’s trauma response, fem!reader is too good for sirius, fem!reader has ‘i can fix him’ complex

a/n: guys… i thought of this prompt and the necklace Alex Russo wore in WoWP and suddenly, complex by katie gregson-macleod started playing so…sorry if this gets sadder.

(posted 9/8/23 & edited 11/6/23)

—

At the very core of him, Sirius Black is a liar. 

It’s not directly his fault, but a subliminal result of the loveless household he grew up in. Lies roll off his experienced tongue more naturally than when he’s ever tried to say I love you. So he’s convinced himself that it’s easier to live life this way, without love. If love ever fell into his hands, he’s not quite sure what he’d do with it. 

If Sirius Black could be defined, he thinks it would lack the word love and instead encompass a lot of his anger. Fiery, palpable anger, deep set in his core. That’s what he is. There are a lot of things to be angry about in this life, after all.

—

You’re 16 and this birthday party might’ve been your best idea yet. Your friends are dotted around your dorm room, along with some people you’ve invited from your classes. Among the forming crowd, you spot one Sirius Black. You don’t talk much outside of being Potions partners, and you get by with smiles in the halls and friendly touches. He’s looking at you from across the room like he knows you intimately, but that is far from the truth. Sirius Black is an enigma if anything, but what’s more unusual to you even after three shots of firewhiskey is the fact that he doesn't have any of his friends in tow. He meanders around the open space before circling back towards your direction as if that wasn’t his plan in the first place.

“Trouble in paradise?” you joke, gesturing to the space his posse would usually occupy behind him. He scoffs, avoiding the question, giving you a proper kiss on the cheek instead as he loops his arms around your waist. It piques your interest; you’ve always loved a challenge.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Sirius is handing you a small jewelry box, and you look at him dumbfounded. You’re barely even friends.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Black. I just called you over to get drunk with me and my mates.” You giggle, cheeks red from the alcohol.

It’s a necklace. A magical, really expensive one. Sirius is gauging your reaction, scratching the back of his neck. It’s easy to put a price to something rather than show you all of his cards.

“Well, aren't I special? This is too much, Black. I shouldn’t…” Your soft hands are pushing the box into his impenetrable wall of a chest as you shake your head in disbelief. No one’s ever gotten you something this nice or expensive before. You wonder if he does this to all the other girls that fawn over him.

“It’s nothing. I insist. You keep me distracted in Slughorn’s class and for that, you get a prize just as pretty as you.” He’s holding your wrists now, rubbing them casually like this isn’t the most intimate encounter you’ve had with him yet. Somehow you can sense that he needs this more than you do. To be needed. He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re the only one making him smile nowadays since his friends haven’t talked to him in weeks. You indulge in this behavior, because it’s new and exciting, and who would say no to Sirius Black?

The party ends much later after you tease him until his wit’s end, and then it’s your whispered approval that moves him to move his body over yours, the rest of your clothes quickly flying off in his pursuit to become a part of you. Physically and metaphorically, his being overtakes you quickly. Deep into the night, when he’s fucking you into your mattress, the necklace he gave you swings back and forth against your chest with every thrust of his hips, every bump of the headboard against the wall thumping the final nails into the coffin. You can’t help but feel special as he lays kisses on your spine. You know this isn’t intimacy in Sirius’ world though. This isn’t love, it’s bodies yearning for connection, to find something meaningful. To string the words to define how to pass the time. You hope he finds what he’s looking for between your sheets and as he breathes into your hair.

Sirius is angry at the world and he’s chosen you to be his target. What color on your necklace can define the fact you wanted him to fuck you brainless anyways? What can accurately portray the shaking of his hands as he slaps the fat of your thighs? Both of you don’t remember, but all he knows is your naked bosom is glowing amber as you pant, and it looks and feels like you’re on fire. Lust has a way of consuming the body, both of you moving until you cannot anymore, anatomy animated by the need for touch.

He needed this, a distraction. And you just wanted a crazy story to tell. You keep note of the fact that Sirius likes it when you moan his name, and he makes it his mission for you to scream the name he grew up hating because it sounds pretty coming from your mouth. Because here in this room, it means something other than disappointment.

“Oh my god, baby, right there!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.” he pants, pulling your hair roughly as he jackhammers into you. No pet names or endearments are allowed. Just Sirius, and he’ll correct you if you get it wrong. By the end of it, you’re slurring your words and screaming nonsense anyway. You think nothing of it.

He wants you as much as you’ll have him, which, when you’re 16, you think can be made a priority just to keep his eyes on you. Everyone wants a piece of Sirius Orion Black. And your hands are stretched out in hopes of partaking in this transaction of physicality and sin. Weeks later, after you seemingly fall asleep in the boys’ dorm, James asks Sirius if you’re his girlfriend. “She’s…alright,” he mumbles into the air. They’ve finally forgiven him for The Prank after your urges to get Sirius to swallow his ego. He never got to thank you for it. Gratitudes and endearments were a rarity at Grimmauld Place. 

Peter whispers in the dark of their dorm and asks Sirius if he could ever fall in love with you. With your eyes closed and your head lying against his chest, you feel him shrug as he traces a hickey he left on your collarbone. What is love to Sirius Black? He’s looking at your chest glow red, and his hand clutches the pendant in his fist, trying to dim its light. You go to sleep instead. The incandescent glow of the pendant seeps beneath your eyelids.

—

You’re 19 and sometimes you wonder if it’d be easier to be dead. Good days are a relief for all to have, presenting themselves as scarce and far apart in your new normal. There’s a war going on and you think it’s criminal to consider yourself adult enough to fight in it, but you and your friends–and your boyfriend do. You sleep in Sirius’ apartment more than your own now, but he never calls you his girlfriend, he just calls you his, and you convince yourself to not worry so much about it because death itself is coming for everyone you know. You’re together, and that’s what matters, right? There are bigger problems at hand.

Between Auror missions, Sirius has a bad habit of picking fights with you in front of your friends, which now include his friends. A lot of you comes from him, which you don’t resent. They’re lovely, but they see through the struggle. They know him too well, and you go to every gathering with an inkling that they know how mean Sirius can truly be. Old habits die hard. Tonight he yells at you because you won’t let him get a fifth beer. 

“Always thinking you know better than me, (Y/N). You’re not my fucking wife, so I don’t need to listen to you! No one wants to hang around a killjoy.”

He wrenches his grip from your thigh, nearly toppling your chair over to stomp over to the bar himself. Everyone stares at you, waiting for you to react before they judge. Before they defend their friend. His behavior has been erratic lately with his world crumbling as he knows it. But then again, Sirius has never known life without chaos.

“I know it’s not… ideal. But he’s a good guy. We’re all just going through shit right now. His brother’s missing, so I’m there when he needs me.”  Which is always, you omit from your response. You don’t mind being needed though. Helping him fight his demons is a part of being in a relationship with someone so damaged. You bring him light when his mind darkens. That is not transactional. It’s something deeper, though the words dissipate before either of you can utter it at night.

Lily reaches over the table to hold your hand, with Remus pulling his arm around the back of your chair, and rubbing your shoulder. Your chest is still glowing red, your love for him triumphing over any embarrassment he’s caused you. How you feel has always been clear, evident on your chest. What a weakness to have, to lay yourself bare to him and you wonder if Sirius did it on purpose.

He gets piss drunk as you expected and you have to side-apparate him home while you insist to everyone else that they should stay and have fun. They’re not as easily convinced, but you bid them farewell anyway. You get to the apartment and Sirius mumbles a ‘thank you’ as you help him take his clothes off and you gently tuck him under the covers, kissing him goodnight. Small moments like these are tender. They say more than anything you could put into words.

Moments later, you pretend to not hear Sirius cry, but his chest is heaving and the sound coming from his throat is so gut-wrenching that you lift yourself out from under him where he was weeping into your shoulder. In the dark, your eyes adjust to find his face in the moonlight.

“Sirius?” you breathe, fingers ghosting over the tears on his face. 

“He’s dead.” he whimpers. You’ve never seen Sirius Black let himself be vulnerable like this. Not to the Marauders, and especially not to you. There’s no carnal aspect in sorrow, though it leaves one gutted, worn down to the bone.

“My baby brother is dead, and no one knows. I don’t even have a body to mourn over.” 

He chokes back a sob, and you let his arms shroud your body, leaving the red glow of your pendant trapped between both of your ribs. You hope some of the light and some of your love seeps into him. You have plenty to give, and it’s all his for the taking, if only he’d let you.

Sirius falls asleep hours later, and you’re pinned to the bed underneath him. There’s a crick in your trapezius that you try to ignore as you stroke his hair. Maybe in his dreamless state he can find peace. You close your eyes and wonder if Regulus has found solace in death. Maybe it would feel something like this.

—

You’re 21 and most of your good friends are dead or in hiding. It’s the night before Halloween, but there’s not a lot to celebrate if real life is much scarier now.

Over the years, Sirius and you have come to an understanding. He’s flawed, with a viciously large ego and oftentimes he’s mean when he doesn’t know how to react. But he’s human. He tries now, more than ever to quell the anger born in the Black name. He tries to be gentle, though the instinct to hurt is in his blood. You’re patient, and resilient enough to take the blows, knowing what you feel is deeper than his anger, often revealing itself as his darkest fears. You like him ‘because’ and love him ‘despite’. Your cue to comfort him is usually right before he gets the look on his face that tells you he’ll say something knowing it’ll make you cry. You’ve always loved him, but now you know why. Sirius wonders every day how you’re still with him. He’s a runner, but since the day you’ve met him, you haven’t quite let go of his hand.

Usually instead of an apology, he’ll usually fuck you to oblivion, making sure your legs shake and your brain is jumbled enough to not talk about the hurt he causes you. He strokes the fire in you, and the feeling of anger that continually wracks his being can only be satiated by your touch. His skin on yours is the best place to be, but maybe there’s a part of you that likes the hurt, his anger. It's almost passionate, the only emotion he knows how to express well. You love him in a way that only you can, despite all of that. But it all blurs when he kisses you, consumes you. You especially like it when he pulls your hair.

You shriek as you come down from a release, hands rubbing the expanse of his chest. His thrusts slow as he grapples with reality, pawing at your breasts. Your hips milk him for his worth, and he groans lowly.

“You’re too good to me, wife. You’re all mine.” 

Your ministrations come to a stop as you look down at him, pendant hanging between your faces. Nicknames were a growing commodity lately.

“Wife, huh…”

The air is heavy between you two, still connected as one while you wait for his response. Let him take the lead, as it’s the role he’s more accustomed to.

“If that’s okay.” he breathes, not knowing what to do with his hands. Love has fallen into his hands, and her physical form is sitting in his lap. His grip eases as he accepts you wholly.

“Maybe someday soon.” 

A slow smile stretches across your face. 

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider.” But the glow of your necklace is more vibrant now, and you two both know your answer as he grabs your waist and pulls you down for another round.

Sirius tries to sneak out of bed in the early morning as you doze off. You wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, bare feet padding across your shared apartment in search of him until you see him dressed in the kitchen and holding a letter. 

“I have to go… deal with some business,” he mutters, not stepping away from the window nor sparing you a glance. Lying to someone he loves is harder than he thought it would be.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You’re standing in the doorway wearing his shirt and his boxers. He likes it when you say his name. You could call him anything you want and he’d come running.

“James and Lily, they’re in trouble. I’ll be back by morning.”

You turn to grab your wand, planning to go with him, but he’s suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you into a kiss, stopping your advances. He has something to lose now. You’re his, and he’ll be damned to let you follow him blindly into danger.

“You have to stay here. Everything will be okay,” he says, holding your chin. The lie sits heavy on his tongue. Maybe if he focuses he’ll see the rose-tinted hue of your irises every time he shuts his eyes.

“You’re scaring me...” You look at him in apprehension, his movements erratic and you wonder if he’s cracked and needs an exorcism. Then your heart is thundering in your chest and the red glow turns ice blue. A new feeling has taken a larger form than your love, and its fear. Briefly, you wonder how Sirius lives on edge like this. Something is dangerously wrong. He looks into your eyes, and then the cold glow on your chest. He takes a slow step back away from you, looking almost apologetic.

“Sirius Black, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I love you.”

He’s apparated and long gone before you register what he said. It sounded unfamiliar coming from his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. It was something you’ve always known. You just didn’t think that hearing it would hurt this badly.

—

The doors of the dreary prison cell screech shut in Azkaban. Visiting hours are over, and Sirius hadn’t left his space the whole two hours you waited outside in hopes of seeing him.

Tossing the lunch you packed into the bin as you push through the exit door for the last time, you think that killing him would’ve been easier than this, but he is not the victim in this story. You at least hope he got your package, as you think that maybe you could find a different adventure now, one that doesn’t involve having your feelings splayed across your chest for a murderer to come in and kill you dead. What a fool, to know someone so intimately, so innately, and for him to be a killer.

The envelope is slid under his cell door, and he opens it slowly. The necklace. Sirius sighs, and he wonders if you’ll finally let him go. It’s what you deserve anyway, now that he’ll rot in here for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s hurt you enough that even if he did tell you everything, there’s a chance you wouldn’t believe him. No one does, after all. The cool silver of the chain makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as he slips it on. Red. 

With all the time in the world to think, he realizes that he can easily be defined by the sound of your voice calling his name. He’s called many things now besides a liar; a murderer, a deranged madman, a traitor. The only definition of himself he prefers now is one where he is described to be loving you. There are a lot of things to love about you, after all. He spends days, weeks, months, years, keeping track. He finds new ones every time he closes his eyes.

But Sirius Black is first and foremost a liar, and if there’s anything he’s sure of, is that he’s damn good at it.

—

“You say you love rain

but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun

but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love wind

but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid

when you say you love me.”

William Shakespeare

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: complex by katie gregson-macleod

taglist: @jsjcue

#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader angst #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #marauders era #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #Spotify

[catholicdaredevil]

disarming || tormund giantsbane x gn! reader

hello all! i haven't posted anything i've written in a while (over a year) but when prompted by my daughter grack i searched back through my google docs and found this fic that i don't think i ever posted so here we go! (also this hasn't been edited lol)

summary: gn! reader kills a thenn and tormund is bricked over it

words: 2k

warnings: violence!!!!!! use of knives, punching, kicking, stabbing, and killing!!!! to be fair it's all canon typical violence for game of thrones but still there's your warning! also short references to nsfw but no detailed action

ao3 link

Warm callused hands framed your face and he leaned in to kiss you. 

Except Tormund didn’t kiss you, kiss was too gentle a word for it, he consumed you. Every time he pressed his mouth to yours it was like he was trying to drink you down, overwhelming sensations of nothing but him causing your brain to go haywire. He didn’t give pecks, no small chaste kisses, that was your thing. When you’d walk past him and pause just to creep up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek then carry on with whatever you were previously doing. Sometimes he let you, he knew you liked those gentle kisses, wanted to give you whatever you wanted when he could. 

However most times he’d slip his hands into your hair, or around your waist and pull you into him with strength you couldn’t get out of if you tried, tip your head back and deepen the kiss. And if when you finally pulled away you looked dizzy, hair a mess and breathing ragged, then that was just a bonus. 

“I swear on–on– on all of the southern gods, every single one of them, that if you ever come near me again I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” your finger jabbed into the Thenn’s chest, loud voice carrying throughout the camp. You can hear the mutters of people gathering around, the syncopated overlapped voices of the other free folk watching, waiting. 

“If you didn’t have Tormund to back you up I bet you’d be so much quieter. Maybe you need someone to teach you to be quiet, little one.” He leaned in, voice low and predatory with a grin stretching out the scars that covered his face. Those white lines marking a Thenn that always made a chill run down your spine. 

“I need no one to back me up, I don't want Tormund’s help and he couldn’t stop me if he wanted to. You think I would be Tormund’s if I couldn’t handle my own?” 

As if he could sense his name spoken from across the way, you hear Tormund walk up, his loud voice familiar enough to pick out of the crowd circled around you and the Thenn. 

“What’s going on?” Tormund’s words end in a growl as he finally breaks through the masses to see you. 

Your mouth twisted down into an angry frown and the hand not currently inches from the other man’s chest is clenched into a fist and trembling just slightly at your side. He takes the final few steps to get to your side, a glare pinning the man in front of you in place. He had joked before but only a fool didn’t hesitate going up against Tormund Giantsbane. There was a reason he was Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower and Breaker of Ice. Tormund was less a man and more a force, a storm that roved over lands destroying anything stupid enough to get in his way. 

Tormund’s hand rests on your shoulder, his body tense in anticipation, always seconds away from swinging a blade at anyone who so much as dares to glare at you and this is no different. You speak one last time before turning to walk off, “I won’t warn you again.” 

“And how do you plan to kill me little one? By whinging? Yelling? You couldn’t kill me if Tormund trained you for years.” 

His cocky words are enough to break your last shred of patience left and you spin before Tormund can react, stomping across the frozen dirt, fist clenched and ready to throw a punch. Luckily Tormund recovers fast enough to grab your elbow mid-swing and you round on him, ready to yell that you’d had enough of that shit eating grin and he could try to eat his next kill with less teeth. 

“You’ll break your sweet little hand on that ugly fucker, here.” Tormund lifts your hand to kiss across your knuckles and pushes a knife into it and nods approvingly, twisting you around to face the Thenn again. You get to watch the smirk melt off the man’s face. This is no longer a game, not even an argument. He has two options now; let you kill him or fight you and have Tormund kill him. There’s no scenario where he lays a hand on you and lives to talk about it. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You disarm me fair and square and you win, Tormund’ll let you live. If not, I carve that smirk from your face.” Your head tilts expectantly and the Thenn’s eyes shift from you to Tormund, watching the small nod Tormund gives in agreement before looking back to you. 

He grins. “Deal.”

He moves faster than you expected, quick for such a large man, but it doesn’t matter. He swings his hand out to hit you and you duck, adrenaline surging through you as your instincts take over. He’s a fool and a cocky one at that and you’re going to show him. You drop your breathing to slow and controlled, crouching slightly to study him, eyes scanning over his tall form to pick out the best places to strike. 

His leg shoots out and slams into your side. Pain blossoms across your stomach and you bite your cheek to muffle your cry, wrapping your arm around his ankle to keep him on one foot. He’s stronger than you and you know you won’t be able to hold him there for long, but you don’t need long. Your blade sinks into his leg right above his knee, twisting before you yank it back out and he tugs his leg from you with a scream. He expects you to attempt to hold onto it, so when you drop it the force of his pull twists him off balance and he has to stumble to catch himself, grunting through the shooting pain the steps cause. 

“You’re a fool. You’re a fool and I warned you.” You spit blood at his feet. He looks up to meet your eyes again and there’s a split second where you’re concerned about the rage so clearly shown on his every feature. Taking a deep breath, you force your body to relax, shaking out the tension in your joints and twisting your head until your neck cracks loudly. 

The sounds of the crowd have risen, voices overlapping and in the back of your mind you register a familiar voice shushing them all. The man in front of you is too focused on kicks, anything to keep you as far from him as possible thinking his strength lies in his reach spanning farther than your own. He swings a hand and his fist connects with your temple, your entire head rings, vision going blurry and black around the edges and you gasp. 

It takes you a moment to catch your bearings, a few stumbled steps and ragged intakes of breath, and that’s all it takes. The bottom of his foot lands solidly on your chest and he pushes with a force that likely cracked several ribs, knocking you to the ground. His own chest heaves with exertion, walking forward to stand over you and you can see the way he struggles with restraint, unused to leaving an enemy alive after a fight. 

He opens his mouth to speak and hesitates at the last second. Blood trails down your chin, shadowing a grin that gives him pause in his victory, but not long enough to stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “Fair and square.” 

“I said disarm me,” 

He puts the pieces together too late. 

The knife still clutched tightly in your hand that wrapped around where he stood slices through the back of his ankles on both feet and he drops with a scream. Crumpling to the ground, the Thenn grabs at his bleeding feet, attempting to staunch the blood that flows around his fingers and pours onto the ground below him. You’ve risen to your feet in his panic, swaying slightly as your head gets caught up in the dizzy waves of a concussion. Luckily your adrenaline still pumping through your veins is enough to keep you standing long enough for him to look up at you and lock eyes one last time. 

Your knife finds its home in the small space between the side of his collarbone and neck, right where it’s still soft and relatively easy to drive it as far in as it will go. You push until the heel of the knife clinks into bone and he finally collapses below you, ripping the hilt from your hand in his fall. He lets out one final choked off gurgle, eyes rolling back and lids closing and he’s dead. His and your blood stains your hands and clothes, a messy watercolor of death.

Now that the fight is over your body threatens to collapse, hands on your locked-up knees to keep from hitting the ground. Eyes slammed shut in an attempt to limit the way the world spins on his axis like a top and warm large arms wrap around your middle to vault you into the air. 

The earth shakes below you, but maybe that’s just Tormund in his raucous laughter and shouted words. “I told you all! Mine doesn’t need anyone for anything! Only needs me around to fuck them ‘til they cry!” 

Heat blooms in your face at his exclamation to the surrounding crowd, your hand smacking into his shoulder feebly. You doubt that even with all your strength you could do much to the man beyond a bee sting, but he grunts in fake pain at your strike just to indulge you. “I don’t think I need you for even that, I did a pretty good job at doing it myself before you came along.”

“But I do it better.” 

His almost crystal blue eyes meet yours and he’s wearing that shit-eating, Tormund Giantsbane, wolfish grin. The one that probably earned him the name Tall Talker if you had to guess. The look is more familiar than even your family and you can’t help but mirror it back at him in your own way, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“Aye, you uncivilized great behemoth of a man. You do it better.” 

Tormund connects his lips with yours, quickly licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, drinking you down. He gets the satisfaction of the taste of you and the bitter clash of your blood that only spurs him on until his hands are fisted in your shirt and you’re whining into his mouth, almost grinding onto him from your place in his arms. 

His hold on you only tightens until he pushes on your cracked ribs and you jerk away from his touch with a broken gasp. You drop your head to his shoulder, breathing slowly through the sharp pain until it passes, slipping back into the gentle throb it sits at as a baseline. Tormund presses a kiss to your forehead, one hand softly running up the line of your spine in comfort, already walking towards your shared home. 

“Let’s get those clothes off and I can see just how hurt you are.” He says, pushing aside the door and kicking it shut behind the two of you. He sets you down on the bed delicately, not wanting to cause you anymore pain and you smile up at him standing above you. 

“I’m fine really. Well– I might have a concussion.” 

“I’ll get you taken care of my pretty little crow. Then I’ll make you cum on my tongue so many times you cry. Seeing you kill a Thenn has me harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life.” Tormund speaks the words like they’re normal, a casual conversation and mention of murder being sexy. Of course you’re sure a big part of the whole sexy-murder thing has to do with his hatred for Thenn’s and the specificity of your victim. Not that you’ll complain, or turn down the offer. 

#game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #game of thrones x reader #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund x reader #tormund giantsbane fic #tormund giantsbane fanfic #game of thrones fic #ezra writes

[blissfullyapillow]

┃If I can’t have you.. (everything means nothing)

₊˚⊹♡ Xiao x fem reader

₊˚⊹♡ wc: 9k~

₊˚⊹♡ Prompt: Xiao finds himself falling for a human despite his better judgment, while said human is hesitant to give their heart to the sweet yaksha who saved them, in fear of becoming a burden. 

₊˚⊹♡ warnings: slowburn, fluff, you’re visionless (gasp), tons of mutual pining, Zhongli acts like a parent figure to Xiao here (istg it’s so cute)

₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: GUYS I AM SO PROUD OF THIS DFHUQI, I’ve been slowly writing the the last couple of weeks and I love how it turned out! I, once again, randomly got inspired when listening to a song. This time it was Shawn Mendes’ song, ‘If I Can’t Have You,’ hence the title of this work. I came to the sudden realization that the song would totally fit Xiao, and I realized it’s been a long time since I wrote something for him. I tried to make this as canon compliant as possible, as in Xiao would actually do & feel these things; I hope I did him justice! With much love, please enjoy this fic! Xoxo ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭

₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist

It’s an average night for the Vigilant Yaksha; Adeptus Alatus. Said adeptus is currently carrying out his duty as he watches over Liyue, defeating any man-eating monsters he happens upon.

Tonight there appears to be more of these monsters than usual, but it’s all the same to the mighty illuminated adepti. 

He wastes no time in slaying said monsters, and within a moment's time they are all subdued. 

At least that’s what he thought.

A sudden cry from afar immediately grabs his attention, and he wastes no time getting to the source. What he finds does not surprise him. A lone girl hesitantly backs away from a group of monsters, creating what distance she can as she inevitably becomes surrounded.

Xiao’s hand grips his spear as he readies himself to eliminate the threat in front of him. He falters when the lone girl emits a battle cry of sorts. He watches as she bends down to grab a..

A stick.

Xiao can’t help but snort at the comical sight.

This girl, all alone and surrounded by monsters, chooses a stick as her last means of survival. Almost as if the monsters can sense her foolishness as well, they emit sounds akin to laughter.

Xiao moves to help the girl, ready to save her, and yet…

He finds his feet glued to the floor when his eyes catch sight of her burning orbs. 

Most people he’s happened across in these situations are full of fear as they shout for someone, anyone, to save them.

Not this girl. She straightens herself with her measly yet sturdy stick in hand before she starts to swing.  

Xiao guffaws when she accurately lands a hit on one of the monsters. He’s flabbergasted when the small monster actually falls to the ground. He knows her stick won’t amount to much as a means of protection; it already looks like it’s on the verge of breaking. Despite this, she wastes no time in attacking another monster with her stick.

Xiao is rooted to the spot as he watches this girl miraculously handle herself pretty well in this situation. His sharp gaze flicks to the monster that creeps up behind her. He moves now, and in a moment’s breath he appears right behind said monster.

The girl has yet to notice the monster behind her as she swings her stick at another monster in front of her; the monster behind closes in on her from behind.  

He’s relieved he’s close enough to stop the monster before it reaches her since she seems all too unaware of her surroundings. 

So, imagine his surprise when the girl spins around, kicking the monster to the ground before his spear can deliver a devastating blow. 

Their eyes meet, and although all she can see is his mask her expression morphs into one full of wonder and awe. That is, before she swings her stick at him. 

Xiao easily catches hold of the stick, and in no time it snaps in two in his firm grasp. He ignores her attempt to hit him once more as he now focuses his attention on the remaining monsters around her.

He makes quick work in slaughtering them all. Once the task is complete he faces her. He expects her to retaliate once more. maybe attempt to hit him again.

His eyes widen in slight surprise when he’s presented with a formal bow. Her head hangs low, and her hands are pressed together as if in prayer.

“Thank you almighty adeptus!” He scoffs at her grateful exclamation. This mortal is quite the handful. He opens his mouth to speak, his face still hidden beneath his mask, when she straightens herself once more and her eyes meet his. 

Any response he would’ve had dies in his throat. His mind goes blank as her wide orbs bore into his. How does she even know where his eyes are? Aren’t they hidden behind his mask?

A touch of his fingers against his cheek, not his mask, answers his own question. He must’ve been so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t notice his mask disappear.

Speaking of said human, she now tentatively takes a step in his direction.

“Stop. Do not come any closer.” His words are harsh and prickly. He crosses his arms across his chest, and he stands firm. 

The human takes the hint, but her eyes still stay on his. For some reason this flusters him, and he finally averts his gaze. The human seems to take this as an opportunity to come closer, and a noise of surprise escapes him when a warm pair of arms wrap around him.

Does this mortal have no sense of danger!?

His hands quickly grip your arms to pull you off of him, but he stops himself when he sees your expression. 

Your eyelashes house unshed tears and your lips are quivering. He quickly comes to the realization that your tough exterior was just a front. Now, you’re clinging to him as loud sniffles leave you.

He’s as stiff as a board as you cling to him, but he can’t bring himself to pull you off of him. A few moments of awkward silence, save for your sniffles, pass by. Eventually he awkwardly raises his hand to pat your back.

You two stay together in this awkward embrace until you pull away. He wants to scold you and tell you to return to your residence at once, but…

He remains silent.

“Thank you. I did my best to defend myself and remain calm, but I knew there was only so much I could do. I don’t have a vision, so I was feeling pretty desperate haha.” Xiao’s taken aback by your words. How come he didn't notice that before?

He looks over your person. Sure enough, there isn’t a vision in sight. He’s.. a bit impressed by your mental fortitude. You stood your ground and put up a fight despite having no external means of help. 

Honestly, he finds that very admirable of you.

“Whatever. Go home. It’s late. There are still monsters around.” The words leave him quickly, and he ushers you away. 

You don’t budge despite his pushing, and you turn your head to look at him. 

Archons, why do you keep gazing so deeply into his eyes?

He awkwardly coughs as he looks anywhere but in your direction. His hands on your person feel like they’re being lit aflame, so he quickly pulls them away. You turn to face him fully now, only to place a gentle hand on his arm.

He visibly jumps before his hand firmly grips your wrist. “What are you doing?” He grunts. “Can you escort me home? I’m still a bit shaken up...” You murmur the words under breath. You’re so quiet; Xiao wouldn’t have heard you if he weren’t paying such rapt attention to you. 

Xiao has no inclination to help you, let alone entertain you any further. He should just disappear from sight like he usually does. You’ll surely be fine. He may have fibbed a bit earlier, there are no more monsters nearby.

His eyes reluctantly meet your orbs once more. Something about the sincerity in your gaze compels him. He finds himself heeding your request despite his better judgment, and soon he falls into stride beside you as he accompanies you home.

“This is foolish.” He mutters under his breath. “It may be to you, but I greatly appreciate your time and generosity.” He didn’t think you heard him, so he’s more than a bit startled by your sincere reply.

He remains silent for the rest of the journey. He doesn’t comment on your close proximity as you walk side by side. 

He pays no mind to the occasional brush of your shoulder against his. 

He doesn’t notice the way your eyes are curiously drawn to him as you two walk, or the way they rove over his form.

After what feels like a millenia you two arrive at your residence. He should leave now. He’s indulged you more than he needed to. “This is goodby-” You cut him off when you throw your arms around him in a tight, warm hug. 

This is the second time you’ve done that tonight. 

He hates the way his heart lurches as a result of the unexpected proximity from you.

“Thank you, really. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” Your voice is soft, mesmerizing, and your words are whispered by the shell of his ear and you continue to embrace him.

Honestly he wants you to stop hugging him so his heart can stop pounding in his chest. “You can stop hugging me… and also… stay out of harm's way.” At his request you quickly pry yourself off of him.

He abhors the disappointment he feels now that you aren’t close to him anymore. “I can do that. Thank you…” You trail off, hoping he’ll fill in the blank for you with his name.

This has gone on long enough.

He turns now so his back faces you. He remains silent as he disappears. 

You feel a bit disappointed that he didn’t reply, but you’re grateful to him nevertheless.

Little did the both of you know, this encounter was only the beginning of something more.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I thought I told you to stay out of harm's way?” His gruff tone makes you giddy as he holds you in his arms, out of reach from the swarm of monsters. 

You truly didn’t expect to see the adeptus that saved you that fateful night ever again, yet here he is. 

“I did my best to follow your advice! I just.. Have a bit of a knack for finding myself in crazy situations.” You sound sheepish as you laugh it off, but the yaksha holding you sounds anything but amused.

“You mortals are always such a handful..” He quickly sets you down in a safe area before he gets to work defeating the monsters in front of you. 

You cheer him on as if you were his personal cheerleader, and you swear you see the tips of his ears redden.

In no time at all the threat before you vanishes, and the adeptus stands tall in the midst of the aftermath. 

Well, as tall as he possibly can. He is quite short after all.

The thought brings a cheeky smile to your lips. The adeptus notices your expression, and a familiar frown presents itself on his pretty features.

“Are you sure you aren’t actively putting yourself in these situations?” He interrogates you. “No! I promise. I really could do without the added stress to my already busy life.” You smile as you make your way over to him.

He doesn’t stop you. He’s clearly contemplating your words.

You don’t blame him. This is your fourth encounter after all. The previous two encounters consisted of him saving you from monsters as well. 

Unfortunately he hasn’t walked you home since your last encounter, or told you his name, but you’re determined to learn that information tonight.

“So, mighty adeptus, will you please do me the honor of-” “You can find your own way home. I know you don’t live far from here.” He turns away from you, his telltale sign that he’s about to disappear. 

“No, please wait!” You grimace at the desperation in your voice. You notice him flinch slightly at your words. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t leave. 

You close the distance between the two of you, and you wrap your arms around him from behind in a hug. 

He sighs, a sound you’ve grown quite used to hearing from him. “You are one troublesome human…” He grumbles under his breath. Despite his harsh words he makes no attempt to move away from you. You enjoy this moment as you close your eyes and hold him. 

You smile to yourself since he lets you.

“Please escort me home tonight? I’m still figuring out the best way to repay you for saving me so many times; It’s only right that I do something in return.” You fear your words won’t be enough to convince him.

Your fears are promptly quelled. He regretfully moves away from you, but he begins to walk in the direction of your home.

The smile that lights up your face is radiant.

You easily fall into step beside him. 

The night air is chilly. You rub your arms with your hands to generate a bit of warmth as you rack your brain for a suitable topic of conversation. From your few encounters with the adeptus you can tell he isn’t the most social individual. 

Even so, nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say.

“Is there really no way I can repay you?” You decide to be blunt and cut to the chase. You’re rewarded by a startled snort. The sound is strangely cute coming from him. 

Your head whips in his direction, but his face remains stoic as if he made no sound at all. “If I say there is something you can do, will you stop pestering me?” He grumbles. Your eyes shine with delight at the prospect of doing something for the kind individual beside you.

“Yes, please!” You encourage him.  He hums in contemplation before he goes silent once more. You pout as the comforting sight of your abode enters your line of vision.

Once you’re standing in front of your door you turn around to wish the adeptus a monsterless rest of his night. Just as your lips part to say your farewells, he speaks. “You can make a dish of almond tofu. Bring it here tomorrow. After that, your debt will have been repaid. Now go to sleep. It’s late.” With those brisk words, he turns and leaves.

He doesn’t completely disappear on you this time, and the delusional part of you believes it’s progress. Unfortunately you still didn’t catch his name, but you’ve made progress in a different sense!

Too bad you don’t have the slightest idea how to make almond tofu…

𓆩♡𓆪

“I’ve been up since early this morning, scouring multiple sources, and said sources have all referred me to you! So please, pleasseee teach me how you make almond tofu!” You’re on your knees in front of the chef of Wangshu Inn, pathetically begging him to teach you his wonderful ways.

Not too far behind you stands Verr Goldet, hunched over and clutching her sides in laughter. The chef takes one look at the sight of you in front of him before a deep, heavy sigh leaves his lips.

“I just can’t catch a break here, huh..?” Those are the only words you hear from him before you're hoisted on your feet and put to work.

Hours full of failed dishes and disgruntled sighs pass by. At one point the chef looked ready to cry, but hey, everything worked out!

Of course by the time you finally manage to make a successful dish of Almond Tofu it’s late into the night. You bestow your thanks upon the chef, but all he does is shake his head as he shoos you away. He may be far off in his assumptions, but he has an idea of who the intended recipient of that dish is. 

You carefully wrap the dish in a pretty carry on before you begin to set off in the direction of your home.

Before you’re able to get far a familiar voice stops you. “Wait! Y/n, was it? Head up to the highest floor of the Inn before you go. It’ll save you a lot of time.” Verr’s words confuse you, but you’d be a fool to deny her request. She was the one who told you to seek out the chef after all. So with a firm nod you quickly make your way to the place she insisted you visit before your departure. 

Once you get up there, the ephemeral sight of the full moon greets you. The little balcony is empty. It’s quite a beautiful sight, but you’re still a bit lost. Why did the boss want you to come up here?

You turn to leave since you’re eager to get home and present to the adeptus your hard work. You manage to take only a single step before a hand on your arm stops you. “Where do you think you’re going so late into the night?” You shriek and jump a mile into the air.

Wait, that voice. It can’t be…

Yet sure enough when you turn around the adeptus is there, glowering at you. “Did you make the almond tofu?” You want to scold him for his blunt question. Instead you hold your tongue as you shove the food into his hands.

He’s startled as he scrambles to hold the food properly. “You fool! What if I dropped all your hard work onto the floor?” He scowls deeply, but his words make your heart pound. “How do you know that I worked hard to make this?” You breathe.

His cheeks warm considerably; a light pink hue makes itself visible on his cheeks. The moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his person.

“It’s obvious.. with.. how well it’s presented.” His soft words are surprisingly sweet. You find yourself swooning as he unwraps the food you delicately packed for him. He moves closer to the edge of the balcony before he plops himself down with your dish of Almond Tofu.

You slowly make your way over to him before you sit down comfortably beside him. 

A stupid smile stretches your cheeks when your knee bumps against his. 

You watch attentively as he slowly takes his first bite. He closes his eyes as he savors the taste. He remains eerily still which causes your heart to drop to your stomach. Did you mess up the recipe again? But the chef sampled it and he said it was the best patch of Almond Tofu you’ve managed to make all day! You tried it too, and it tasted pretty good! You hope the adeptus doesn’t take this as an insult. 

Wait- were you supposed to properly make an offering of the Almond Tofu to the adeptus, like, in a traditional sense?

Your spiraling, anxious thoughts are stopped in their tracks when he eagerly takes another bite. Two bites turn into three, and soon the plate is wiped clean.

You’re stunned. You watch in awe as he gracefully sets the plate down at his side before turning to you. “It was okay.” You blink. Glance over at the empty plate again. Look at his deadpan expression.

It takes a moment for the giggles to build, but soon you’re full on laughing as you clutch your stomach, similar to Verr Goldet earlier in the day.

The adeptus huffs in faux annoyance as you laugh. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile is on his lips. 

“You don’t need to meet me anymore now. Go home earlier, okay?” His words make your laughter come to an abrupt halt. “Huh?” You splutter out in a confused daze. He says nothing as he moves to stand up.

You clutch his arm. 

He takes one look at the expression on your face before he sits down. “Please don’t do that. I mean, I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m sure I’m just another ‘silly mortal’ to you, and I know you have your own burdens and duties to attend to…” His breath hitches at your words. You wish you could delve deeper into that, but unfortunately you don’t know him well enough. Hell, you don’t even know his name.

“I understand, truly.. But..” You turn to face him. Your knee bumps against his once more, but you pay the electrifying tingles no mind as you gently grasp his hands. He sucks in a breath. You expect him to wrench his hands away, but he doesn’t. Whatever the reason is, you won’t waste this chance.

“I want to get to know you better. Maybe it’s simple curiosity.. Maybe it’s something more..” You subtly imply, “But I want to keep seeing you. On your time, of course. Please…” You’d say his name, but you don’t know it.

You squeeze his hands before your eyes seal themselves shut in anticipation of his rejection. He has no reason to accept. You feel like the fool that you surely are, for even suggesting that he’d want to spend more time with- “Xiao. Adeptus Xiao.” 

Your eyes shoot open, and your mouth parts in shock. “Stay at the Inn tonight. I’ll speak to Verr Goldet for you. Get some sleep.” His eyes move down to your hands, still gently gripping his, and the faint color on his cheeks deepen its shade.

He averts his eyes, looking down at his shoes before they trail over to the moon, back down to his shoes.

You find his embarrassment to be absolutely adorable.

You thank the archons for their generosity as you finally let go of his hands. You swear you see a smile on his lips before it disappears just as fast as it appeared.

He stands, offering you his hand to take. You gleefully take it and he hoists you up on your feet. “Have a goodnight…” He trails off expectantly. 

Huh? Why is he looking at you like that?

“Your name.” He prompts. 

Oh.

Wait.

Your cheeks warm to a dangerous degree as your hand flies to your mouth. You’ve wanted to know his name so badly, you focused so much on it. So much so that you forgot you never told him your own name!

“Y/n.” You whisper, your feelings of embarrassment blatant in your voice.

Xiao smirks at your reaction. “I see. Goodnight, Y/n.” 

Then he’s gone. 

You take a few minutes to cool down and quell your embarrassment before you go down to talk to Verr. Somehow, she has a room available. You gratefully take the room she offers. She tells you it’s on the house, and no matter how much you insist on paying she refuses to take payment. 

Aw well, you’ll leave a generous tip in the room before you leave.

A yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fall shut. As you drift off to sleep, images of the short adeptus- Xiao- occupy your every thought.

Meanwhile, in another location, said adeptus continues to whisper your name into the wind. 

Y/n. 

Y/n.

Y/n…

....

Huh. 

He likes the way your name sounds on his tongue.

𓆩♡𓆪

His heart throbs, and his throat feels dry. 

His eyes roam over your figure before he quickly turns around, staring off into the distance. Why does he feel so.. Embarrassed? No, that’s not the right word. It’s more like..

You move to stand a bit closer to him, to make space for the person passing the two of you. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; he’s acutely aware of your presence.

Ah, self conscious. That’s the word he was looking for. 

He can not wrap his head around these newfound feelings he’s having around you. He only told you his name last night, nothing more. Why is he acting like it’s such a big deal to him?

When you move away to create a bit of distance between the two of you he feels oddly disappointed. 

Maybe he’s feeling this way because to him, telling you his name and giving you his time is a big deal, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not.

He’s not particularly fond of spending his time with humans. Well, he wouldn’t mind learning more about human culture if it weren’t for his karmic debt. 

Speaking of, you seem none the wiser as you two embark on a leisurely stroll. The sun is high in the sky, a stark contrast to the full moon that witnessed the fateful exchange of your names.

Ah, there he goes again. 

He scolds himself for thinking of that encounter again. He spent all night thinking of you, enjoying the way your name rolled off his tongue with ease. Even as he fought a few monsters, his thoughts kept drifting to you.

He starts to break out in a cold sweat as he continues to think of you, even as you’re standing right beside him.

Will he be able to perform his duties appropriately? How will he, when’s he’s thinking about you constantly like a lovesick-

Woah. 

Where did that word come from? He doesn’t even know you like that.

Xiao’s cheeks redden from his thoughts. He pushes the thought out of his head, refusing to entertain the silly idea any further. 

“Thanks for walking me back… even though it’s broad daylight.” You tease. Xiao jerks a bit at your teasing. Why does that lit in your voice sound so alluring to him?

Xiao. Stop.

“It’s nothing. The threat of monsters linger, no matter the hour of the day.” He mentally pats himself on the back for that smooth explanation. He sees the way you nod your head in agreement, but more importantly his eyes zero in on the small upturn of the corner of your lips. 

When he catches himself his eyes quickly tear away from you. He awkwardly coughs into his fist before he looks down at the ground.

Is he.. Sick? Why is his heart beating so fast when all he’s doing is walking beside you? Maybe he should ask Zhongli if-

“Earth to Xiao?” You’re in front of him now, your face dangerously close to his as you wave a hand in front of his face.

Oh, Archons.

He abruptly stops walking, and it takes everything in him to avoid leaning further into you. 

“Uh, ye- AHEM… yes?” Oh dear. His face burns at the slight crack in his voice. He silently hopes you didn’t catch it.

You most definitely did, but you won’t tell him that.

“Are you alright? It seems like you’ve been zoning out..” Your kind eyes look over him. His palms sweat as he racks his brain for a quick, sensible justification for his wandering thoughts. 

“I was.. Just thinking about..” His eyes move every which way as he tries to come up with a new topic of conversation to distract you. He catches sight of a group of fishermen a few feet away, chatting happily amongst themselves as they wait for their lines to lure in their catch.

Ah, perfect.

“What are your hobbies?” You blink owlishly at him before you take a step back. 

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“My hobbies? Hm… let’s see..” You resume your position beside Xiao as you begin to delve into your pastimes. You unintentionally talk his ear off, but he’s grateful for it. This way, you forget about his rare moment of absent mindedness and he gets to learn more about you.

He doesn’t delve further into why he wants to learn more about you.

“So there you have it. What about you? I’m sure you’re busy, but I find it hard to believe even the adepti don’t have ways to unwind.” Your question is thought provoking, and honestly a bit insightful. 

“This may disappoint you, but not all the adepti have the leisure to indulge in moments of frivolity.” He leaves it at that. In another instance, he may have commended you for your bold question and challenged you to a duel of sorts, but you don’t have a vision and you’re not a renowned traveler. 

“Ah, I see. Well then, care to indulge me?” Xiao looks at you with a questioning stare, but you don’t elaborate. At this point in your journey the both of you are close to your abode, as well as Liyue Harbor.

You suddenly grasp his hand as you take off in a jog towards what he assumes is Liyue Harbor. Xiao splutters as he effortlessly keeps pace with you.

“Mortal- I- Y/n- What are you…” The rest of the question leaves his lips in a gasp when you turn to face him, an ethereal smile on your lips.

He’s quiet the rest of the way as he allows you to drag him to Liyue Harbor.

Oh, Zhongli.

This human is nothing but trouble.

𓆩♡𓆪

Xiao finds himself being dragged around Liyue Harbor all day, engaging in various activities with you.

Xiao knows the entirety of Liyue like the back of his hand. He doesn’t need a map; he’ll know any location in Liyue based on a vague description alone.

Yet here you are, bringing him around Liyue Harbor as you force him to encourage him to participate in activities with you and the other citizens of Liyue Harbor. 

“Hey, Xiao. Do you like kites?” Your delighted voice drifts through the wind until it reaches his ears. “Hmph. I have no need for such a thing.” Is his stern reply. You seem to anticipate said response since all you do is playfully roll your eyes.

“Mhm. Well lucky for you, I got you one! Ta-da!” You swivel around with a newly purchased kite in hand. Xiao audibly sighs. You wish farewell to the kind old lady selling kites before you two head off once more. 

Xiao foresees the way you gleefully fall into step beside him as you walk side by side. Xiao even anticipates the way you subtly sneak the kite into his open hand. What Xiao doesn’t expect is to see Iron Tongue Tian narrating a story to Zhongli.

He freezes.

His feet stop moving forward as he’s rooted to the spot. His thoughts spiral as his mind scrambles for what to do. Should he approach him? It’d be rude not to, but then he’ll know about you. Well, not like it matters. You’re just another human to him and-

“Oh, I love Iron Tongue Tian. He tells the best stories. Come, let’s listen!” Before Xiao’s mind can catch up with his actions, he’s being gently pulled along to sit at the same table as Zhongli.

Oh boy.

Zhongli immediately catches his eye. Xiao almost hates the subtle recognition in his eyes, accompanied by what Xiao discerns to be bewilderment. 

He knows Zhongli won’t let him talk his way out of this.

Xiao chooses to sit down between the two of you, as a mediator of sorts. Iron Tongue Tian is currently telling a story, so surely- 

“That concludes my story. Fret not, I have come prepared with another story to tell. Please give me a moment of respite as I prepare the scene for my next narration.” 

Archons, Why?

Xiao is nonplussed to see the subtle upturn of Zhongli’s lips. 

“Ah, Xiao. It’s rare to see you in this setting. Who is this young lady accompanying you? Please, spare no details.” Xiao swears he can feel the lone drop of sweat that travels down his face.

“Mo-.. Zhongli… this is.. Y/n.” Xiao internally berates himself for the breathless way your name leaves his lips. If Zhongli wasn’t curious already, he certainly is now.

“Ah, Y/n is it? A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I go by the name of Zhongli.” Zhongli smiles in your direction as he introduces himself. Xiao turns to gauge your reaction; He doesn’t expect the familiar smile on your lips, or the knowing twinkle in your eye.

Why are you smiling at Zhongli like that?

He feels conflicted.

“I know who you are, Mr. Zhongli. I’ve seen you sitting here, listening to Iron Tongue Tian’s stories many times. It’s nice to meet you.” You reach over, extending your hand for something. 

Before Xiao can ask what you need assistance with, Zhongli’s hand grasps yours. You both exchange a gentle shake between the two of you before you retract your hand.

Oh, you were shaking Zhongli’s hand.

He wishes you would shake his, too.

“What a delightful young lady. Tell me, what brings you here? How did you manage to accompany Xiao here, of all individuals?” Xiao hears the underlying tease in Zhongli’s words. He turns his head to face Zhongli once more. A small pout forms on Xiao’s lips, and a small shake of his head signals Xiao’s displeasure of Zhongli’s teasing.

You, none the wiser, happily sit beside Xiao as you hum a tune to yourself. Zhongli leans down to whisper to Xiao, “It’s rare to see you interacting with the citizens of Liyue, yet alone to be accompanied by another party. Especially a human. The last individual I saw you spend your time with was the traveler. What is the occasion for this meeting? Did you orchestrate this? Do you feel comfortable?” Zhongli’s incessant questions only give Xiao a headache.

“I’m fine. There’s no need to concern yourself.” Is his gruff, short answer. Zhongli has become an expert at reading between the lines when it comes to Xiao. Based on Xiao’s body language and tone of voice, Zhongli deduced that nothing of immediate concern was occurring. If anything, Zhongli suspected something else to be at play. 

Something he would wholeheartedly support, depending on the type of person he determines you to be.

“So, Y/n. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?” Zhongli elegantly picks up the tea resting on the table in front of him. As he softly blows against the cup, Xiao’s attention is brought back to you.

He watches the way your facial muscles twitch as you open and close your mouth. It’s clear you’re not exactly sure how to respond. Xiao’s patient as he waits for your response, enjoying the telltale sign of nerves you express, as your leg bounces up and down under the table.

“Sure, what would you like to know? My hobbies? My favorite food?” You fill the comfortable silence with a tentative question. “All of that and more, if you will.” Xiao’s a bit taken aback by Zhongli’s forward statement, but you don’t miss a beat. “Okay, sure.” 

Many hours pass as you soon fall into easy conversation with Zhongli. Xiao occasionally contributes with your insistence, but overall you and Zhongli engage in pleasant conversation between Iron Tongue Tian’s stories. 

Xiao would never admit this, but he’s pleased by this turn of events.

Zhongli is evidently intrigued by you as you two converse, and you’re eager to listen to his wisdom. By the time you two wrap up your long winded conversation, the sun is setting. The sky is a beautiful blend of purples, pinks, and orange hues.

“It seems to have gotten quite late. I’ve immensely enjoyed our conversation Y/n, but I must head off. I hope to see you again soon, friend. Also, it was a pleasure to see you again, Xiao. ” With that Zhongli slowly stands to take his leave.

Wait, friend?

Zhongli referred to you as a friend!

Xiao feels an odd sense of elation. If Zhongli has referred to you in that way, that means Zhongli approves of you as an individual. 

Xiao abruptly stands up after Zhongli as he sends a pointed look his way. He hopes Zhongli takes the hint.

“Ah, I see. My apologies Y/n, but I must speak to Xiao privately about a certain matter. Please wait here for his return.” You happily nod as you shoo Xiao off to go talk to Zhongli in private.

Xiao’s cheeks burn for a reason unknown.

He follows Zhongli to a quiet corner. Before Zhongli can speak Xiao’s words burst out of him like a waterfall, unable to be held back. “Zhongli, what do you think of that human? Did they annoy you? Do you approve of them? I recently got to know them after saving them from a group of monsters. Through my many encounters with them, my physical symptoms seem to worsen. My heart pounds, my palms feel sweaty, and I find myself compelled to seek their eyes whenever they speak. Is there something wrong with me Zhongli? Do I need medicine?” Xiao’s words leave him so quickly, so fast, he’s sure Zhongli thinks of him as a nutcase.

Xiao would typically refrain from expressing such concerns to Zhongli. He’d rather shoulder his own burdens and have Zhongli remain none the wiser, but this is something new, Xiao’s never felt these things before. He’s a bit worried, to be quite frank. He knows this isn’t normal since he doesn’t feel this way when he’s around the Traveler or Paimon. Is it something you’re doing? Is-

“Hahah!” Xiao’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt. 

Xiao’s eyes widen a fraction as he watches Zhongli’s eyes crinkle with mirth.

It takes a few moments before Zhongli is able to collect himself, but once he does he places a firm, reassuring hand on Xiao’s shoulder. 

“Young adeptus, please keep the former word in mind. You are young, and there are many�� thoughts, experiences, and feelings this world has to offer that you have yet to experience. What you’re feeling right now is normal. It does not matter whether I approve of them or not, as what ultimately concerns me is whether you feel happy around them. If you must know, I find them pleasant to be around, albeit from this brief interaction. None can speak for future events yet to unfold, but I believe you should exercise patience as you navigate this new experience. Don’t fret, my young adeptus. You are doing just fine.” 

Xiao releases a deep breath. It feels as if an invisible weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Oh, maybe it was Zhongli’s hand. 

Xiao notices Zhongli has retracted his hand, and now he stands before Xiao tall and proud.

“It pleases me to see you engaging with others more. Take care. I shall see you again.” Zhongli’s words feel like a warm hug from a loving, doting parent.

All Xiao can do is watch as Zhongli walks away, looking as refined as he does composed.

Xiao takes this opportunity to close his eyes and center himself. He recalls Zhongli’s words as he takes them to heart. 

Xiao takes a deep inhale through his nostrils, and out once more. Zhongli’s right. He’s doing just fine. Despite his better judgment, he’s savored each and every interaction between the two of you. He really should keep his distance, as per his karmic debt, but..

For some reason, the thought of being away from you makes his chest feel tight.

How odd.

Xiao decides you’ve waited long enough. He turns, opening his eyes to return to your side. As he slowly approaches you, waiting patiently at the table, you happen to turn around.

Your eyes lock with his, and a slow smile spreads across your face. Your hand is propped to allow your head to rest upon it, and your eyes twinkle and shine with delight.

His chest feels tight once again, but this time it feels good.

𓆩♡𓆪

Xiao has noticed an obvious change in your behavior; it began after you met Zhongli. 

It’s not a bad change per se, but he doesn’t know the meaning behind your actions and sweet words.

It makes him a bit flustered in all honesty.

This scenario is just one of many that he’s had to endure this week alone.

"Stay with me tonight. Please." Goosebumps rise along Xiao’s arm as your whispered words caress the shell of his ear. 

“You know I can’t do that.” He retorts. His words are firm and strict, as he moves to put some distance between the two of you.

This is the first time he’s been in your abode, the one he often accompanies you to, and now you want him to stay. He stifles a groan when your arm wraps around his, effectively keeping him where you want him.

He made the mistake of accepting your offer to come inside. He’s not someone who typically indulges such requests from others, but with you, he’s found himself doing things he would never do for another.

You successfully lured him to your room, claiming you need his help with something that only he could assist you with, and now you’re trying to fall asleep with him by your side.

Xiao swears it’s not happening.

"I'll keep you warm."

…

Okay, maybe a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine, but I’ll only stay until you fall asleep.” Your eyes widen in shock at his acceptance of your proposal. Your soft lips part as your hands squeeze his arm-

Get a hold of yourself.

Xiao scolds himself at his inappropriate, wandering thoughts. Why is he focusing on how soft your lips are? Or the way they curl up into a cheeky grin as you pull him down beside you? Or-

He awkwardly coughs into his fist as he averts his gaze.

You act all too familiar with him as you snuggle up beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

Archons, his heart is pounding. 

“Did I say you could do that?” He grumbles. You only giggle in reply, pressing yourself further into him.

His Adam's apple bops as he swallows any further complaints.

Xiao peers intently at your face, and he notices the faint bags under your eyes.

Ah, no wonder you’re acting so familiar with him.

Xiao picked up on a cute habit of yours, whenever you’re sleepy you act more familiar with him. You also tend to voice things he believes you hold back in fear of making him uncomfortable.

"You feel like home."

Ah, except he secretly wishes you’d say things like this to him all the time,

His cheeks warm at your whispered confession. “D-Don’t be ridiculous…” He spits the words out, false contempt within them, but you only release a blissful sigh as you relax against him.

He finds himself at a loss for words as you slowly drift off to sleep.

He hesitantly raises his hand to place it upon your head, fingers mere centimeters from your hair, before he stops himself.

Honestly, what is he doing?

As an adeptus, he shouldn’t indulge in these things. He has a duty to carry out, and his karmic debt could cause you harm at a moment’s notice.

With such sobering thoughts in mind, he quickly retracts his hand.

He sighs, slowly removing yourself from his person. For some reason the thought of leaving you causes his chest to constrict. He clutches his chest where his heart lay beneath.

Why does he feel this way?

With a huff he turns to leave, before he spots sheets of paper on a desk in your room.

Curiosity piqued his interest, but he refuses to invade your privacy. A blank sheet of paper catches his attention, so he makes his way over.

Deftly, he grabs a writing utensil before scribbling a message to you in neat script.

He leaves the note on your pillow where his head previously lay, before he vanishes in thin air. 

His thoughts wander back to your sleeping figure for the rest of the night, and an unfamiliar warmth blossoms in his chest.

 

𓆩♡𓆪

You awake the next morning, content after finally getting a good night’s rest. You stretch, and something crinkles by your ear. 

You look for the source, and a small piece of paper catches your eye.

When you gently lift the paper to read it’s contents, the words bring back a rush of memories from the night before.

When you were being overly clingy with Xiao.

Your entire body burns as you force yourself to read his note. You hope he doesn’t hate you! Gosh, you hope you didn’t make him uncomfortable…

Your worries are quelled when you read his words.

When you are in mortal danger, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will always be here when you call.

Your lips form a goofy smile as you re-read his words over and over again. “Adeptus Xiao…” You murmur his name under your breath, only to cry with a shout when he suddenly appears before you.

“You called?”

“Uhhh..” Your cheeky smile is enough to clue Xiao in; you had accidentally called his name. 

He expresses his annoyance with a cross of his arms and a twitch of his eyebrow, yet the corner of his lips twitch upwards as well. You don’t focus on the implications of that since he’s already scolding you, “I’m certain that I wrote, ‘When you are in mortal danger,’ did I not?” A nervous giggle escapes your lips, and once again the corner of his mouth twitches.

“I.. I’m sorry Xiao. Your name just kinda slipped out when I was thinking about you…” Your face flushes with warmth as you glance every which way to avoid looking at his face.

You hear footsteps approach you, and it only heightens your nerves. “Relax. I’m not upset.” His fingers gently lift your chin, forcing you to look at him. His bright amber eyes peer deeply into your orbs. 

It takes every ounce of strength in you not to lean into his touch.

“Y/n…” Your eyes flutter close when your whispered name escapes his lips, flowing into your ears like a whispered confession of love. 

“Xiao…” Your eyes open once more when his fingers are suddenly gone. 

He’s standing on the opposite end of the room, looking a bit uncomfortable now. You’re a bit confused, but you figure it’s nothing personal.

“Xiao, can you meet me at Wangshu Inn tonight? The same place we met when you tried the Almond Tofu I made you?” Your abrupt suggestion catches Xiao off guard. You’re surprised by your own outburst, quite frankly.

You just want to see him again.

“I.. okay. Same time. Don’t be late.” He forces the words out before he vanishes before your eyes.

Yet a smile remains on your lips as you stare at the space he once occupied.

𓆩♡𓆪

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking before you left for Wangshu Inn. Why did you ask to meet up with him today? Why have you gone out of your way to be close to him?

Well, it didn’t take an Archon to figure out the reason behind your actions.

So, with a firm resolve, you’ve decided you won’t tell Xiao how you feel. You highly doubt an adeptus has time for a relationship, yet alone can harbor romantic feelings for a mere mortal like yourself. You think you’re a pretty cool person, but you also don’t want to be a burden to him. 

The last thing you’d want to do is make Xiao uncomfortable and destroy this wonderful relationship you’ve developed with him. You’re wise enough to know Xiao doesn’t form friendships easily, let alone dedicating time to people like has with you. 

So, with your renowned resolve you make your way to Wangshu Inn, intending to spend quality time with Xiao.

As you make your way up the steps, your eyes light up when you see Xiao already waiting for you. He’s standing with his back to you, his face tilted towards the sky. Your heart squeezes in your chest, you want nothing more than to tell him how you really feel, but you’d hate it if it ruined everything…

Almost as if Xiao can hear your racing thoughts, he turns around. “Why are you just standing there?” You jump slightly, quickly making your way over to stand beside him. “Sorry…” You murmur.

Xiao says nothing, turning back to look up at the sky. “Y/n… this isn’t easy for me to do but… I need to be honest with you.” Your heart races when his words reach your ears. You turn, staring intently at his face. He doesn’t turn to look at you, opting to continue staring at the night sky littered with stars.

Said stars twinkle in anticipation as your conversation unfolds. 

“I think it’d be best if I… wasn’t around you so often. My karmic debt isn’t something to be taken lightly, and…” The rest of his words are muffled as your face flushes with intense heat; your ears ring and your world temporarily spins on it’s axis. 

You don’t even notice when Xiao gently shakes your shoulders, before he’s shouting your name in panic. 

“Y/n!” His voice snaps you out of whatever daze you were in. Your vision clears and suddenly his amber eyes are oh so close to your face.

Your breath hitches.

Is he trying to leave you? …

Honestly, you wanted to keep your feelings buried deep inside, but you won’t let him leave you behind without a fight. With no hesitation you firmly place both of your hands on his cheeks, holding his face in place.

A radiant blush presents itself on his face, but you refuse to acknowledge it if only to tell him the words you desperately need him to hear. 

“Xiao, I didn’t plan on telling you this because I’d hate to be a burden to you. You’re an adeptus and I’m a human. You have a longer lifespan than I do, and I honestly would hate to drag you down or give you more problems than you already have, but…” You take a deep breath to slow the rapid beat of your heart. 

Emotion swirls in Xiao’s eyes, but you refuse to let go of him as you continue on.

“Even so, I don’t want you to distance yourself from me! These past few weeks have been so much fun, and I’ve been so happy. You know why? Because you were there with me, Xiao.” You hear his sharp intake of breath at your words, but he looks down at your shoes. 

His hands place themselves over yours, trying to remove your hands from his face. “I’ve heard enough Y/n, you don’t understand-” “No, you don’t understand!” Your loud exclamation startles the both of you. 

Xiao freezes, but he stops trying to pry your hands away from his face. Instead, he closes his eyes, nodding his head to prompt you to continue. 

You cough awkwardly, a habit you seemed to pick up from Xiao.

“S-Sorry..” The words quietly leave your lips, but Xiao’s quick to dispel your worries. “Nonsense. Continue speaking.” So, you do.

“I know you’re worried about your.. Karmic debt will result in me being hurt, but.. Honestly Xiao, you may not see it yourself but you have such a kind soul. You continue to fight monsters, watching over Liyue no matter how hard you have to push yourself. I remember the other night, when it seemed the wave of monsters were endless, you still kept fighting not only to protect me, but to protect everyone in Liyue. If by chance something does occur, I promise you we can figure it out when that happens. Xiao, you deserve happiness too. I don’t want to assume being with me makes you happy, but if those little twitches your mouth did earlier are any indication, then you shouldn’t distance yourself from me and cut off our connection before any relationship can even begin.” At your words, his eyebrows furrow and he visibly starts breathing faster.

His eyes slowly pry themselves open, and the pain you see swirling in the depths of his irises makes your heart lurch in empathy. 

His lip trembles, and with a steady hand your thumb slowly swipes across his lower lip.

He exhales at your touch, visibly shivering. He’s silent, his brain clearly trying to think of something to say. 

You patiently wait for him to collect his thoughts. In the meantime, you admire the teal undertones of his dark hair, tugging lightly on his hair.

You hesitate to do more, but he seems to appreciate your gentle touch. His eyes close once more, so you lean in, pressing soft kisses along his jaw. 

He trembles, eyes snapping open, and he moves back to remove himself from your touch.

“These hands have slayed many, you’d be wise to stay away.” The words almost sound foreign coming out of his mouth, and he appears unsure of himself. You get the feeling he’s giving you every opportunity to back out, if only for your protection.

You huff, a soft laugh leaving your lips; it appears the both of you were suppressing your own feelings in hopes of preserving the others’. 

“Hm? These hands?” You allow him to remove his face from your touch, but you slowly reach down to grasp his hands. 

Some irresponsible, foolhardy part of himself allows you to.

You unhurriedly lift his hands to your lips. Said lips brush along his knuckles, placing well meaning kisses against each one. 

He remains silent, but makes no move to pull away.

You smile to yourself, moving to stand closer to him.

He stands in front of you, stiff as a board.

“Do you mind if I touch you, Xiao?” His eyes are teeming with emotion. He gazes deeply into your own, before he slowly nods his consent. “I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Dark cheeks accompany his hurried, “Go ahead.” You press your body to his, placing a tender kiss to the place between his neck and shoulder. 

You continue to press kisses along his body in hopes that your actions get your feelings across to him.

Your eyes trail along his body, fingers applying slight pressure below his stomach as they outline his waist. He swallows thickly, mentally telling himself to remove himself from your addicting touch. 

Despite his intentions to move away, he’s enraptured; rooted to the spot as your loving touches bring life to his dormant heart. 

You suddenly lower yourself, and Xiao swears his heart jumps in his throat when you press a kiss to his hip bone, over the fabric of his clothes. “That’s enough!” His words are harsh, and he roughly lifts you up by your arm, only to pull you in by the waist. 

Now your body is pressed firmly against his.

You can feel just how fast his heart is beating, and you’re sure he can feel your speedy heart pace too. 

No words are exchanged as you raptly stare into each other’s eyes. Neither of you comment on the lack of distance between the two of you, and you surely don’t object when your lips are soon mere millimeters apart. 

Soon, they aren’t apart any more.

The two of you simultaneously groan when your lips press against each other. It’s an innocent kiss, full of emotion. Your arms wrap around his neck as his hands on your waist pull you impossibly closer to him. 

It feels like an eternity passes before you pull apart.

As you stare at each other in silence once more, you feel a lopsided smile on your face. Xiao’s cheeks are painted a beautiful shade of pink as his amber eyes zero in on your lips.

Surprisingly, Xiao is the first to break the silence.

"Sorry, that was my first kiss." 

You giggle.

"I could tell." 

"...." 

"I'm kidding!"

He rolls his eyes as you burst into a fit of giggles. He figures the only way to shut you up is to kiss you again.

…

So he does; eagerly.

 

𓆩♡𓆪

“Zhongli, do you remember Y/n?” Xiao now sits across from Zhongli, as Iron Tongue Tian prepares to share a scene from his new narration. 

“Of course I do. It’d be hard to forget a human who has formed such a strong connection with you, Xiao.” Zhongli’s words hint at an underlying meaning, and it makes Xiao bristle. 

Zhongli only laughs; he’s fond of teasing Xiao. 

“What about them, Xiao? Have you found answers to your previous questions?” Zhongli leans forward, giving Xiao all of his attention as he patiently waits for his response.

Xiao hesitates before giving a slow, deliberate nod of his head. Zhongli’s eyes crease with glee as Xiao’s mouth forms a sweet smile. 

“Yes. I have.” Xiao’s simple response earns a hum from Zhongli. “And what is your final answer?” Zhongli leans back as he studies Xiao.

He notices the way Xiao shifts his weight in his seat, and how he fails to hide his shaky hands underneath the table. “My final answer is that I..” Xiao glances up at Zhongli, but all he finds is patience within those amber eyes.

Xiao takes a deep breath before he willingly admits, “I have grown quite fond of this human, and it appears they share similar feelings for me.” Xiao waits with bated breath for Zhongli’s response.

Zhongli closes his eyes as he digests Xiao’s words, yet he can’t contain his smile.

“I see. Do you feel happy when you’re with them?” Zhongli’s question confuses Xiao, and a tilt of his head displays that. “Of course I do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t spend so much time with them.” It appears Xiao doesn’t recall Zhongli’s previous words from their earlier conversation, but that is quite alright with him.

“Then that is all that matters. I am happy for you, Xiao.” Zhongli opens his eyes, leaning across the table to gently grasp Xiao’s hands in his. He gives it a squeeze, before he pulls away. The action visibly flusters Xiao, clearly embarrassed.

“Zhongli…” Xiao groans. Zhongli beams, blithely expressing his delight as he laughs without constraint. 

“Ah, there you are.” Xiao immediately turns around at the sound of your voice, and a twinkle Zhongli has never seen before presents itself within his eyes.

That’s all the confirmation he needed. 

With a small smile, Zhongli stands. He shares a brief greeting with you before he looks at Xiao once more. Xiao stares at him with a neutral expression, before it slowly morphs into a shy grin.

Zhongli turns to leave without another word, whistling a tune under his breath.

Ah. 

He almost forgot how beautiful love can be. 

…

Xiao watches Zhongli leave before he turns to you, gently taking your hand in his. You lean your head on his shoulder as you close your eyes, listening to Iron Tongue Tian’s story. 

Xiao’s hand squeezes yours as he plays with your fingers.

He fails to suppress his smile when you squeeze back. 

#xiao x female reader #xiao x fem reader #Xiao x reader #Xiao x female reader #Xiao x fem reader #Xiao x reader genshin impact #Xiao x you #xiao x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem reader #genshin reader insert #xiao x you #xiao x reader

[blingblong55]

The tiny problems- 141

Based on a request:

I've had this brain worm for the last 2 weeks and I cant get it out. Do you think you could write something with Cod G/t? I'm thinking like a fic with a tiny!y/n, ghost, soap and gaz and giant!price. Maybe something like Price finding little borrowers in his office taking things off his desk? Thank you sm! I love your writing so much!! P.s. I might be sending this same cod g/t kind of prompt to other authors as well. I WILL BE CHANGING THE PROMPT! I just want to see everyone's take on cod g/t. So if you're uncomfortable with multiple authors also writing something maybe similar to this, I understand and you can just ignore this. Thank you🩷🩷 ---- GN!Reader, tiny/giant au, tiny!RN, tiny!Soap, tiny!Gaz, tiny!Ghost, gentle giant!Price, fluff, platonic!relationship ----

A/N: I Fell in love with this idea so…here I am

It is unique, to be Price and live in a comfortable home and have his kind of problems. He lived alone, far from society, and in the woods, it was cosy. Cosy cabin, with delicious food, and a nice fireplace. What more could a man his height need?

Every day, he would sit on his desk, and read the local newspaper and some books. He would laugh or shake his head when he would read some paragraph. Little did he know, he had some of the cutest and tiniest infestations in his home. Ghost, Gaz, Soap and R/N, tiny humans that live in the woods and who have found a home in the Giant Man's home, Price. As the day went on for John, he noticed a few things move around his home. His coffee mug, reading glasses and bonnie hat, all moved around his home.

At night, he heard something move and he rushed to look around his home for any intruder. And then he saw it, his hat moved across his desk and a little foot could still be seen. He sighs, a baseball bat in hand, he lifts the hat and the four tiny humans scream. Price is about to swing the bat when he puts it down, "What the hell-?" he kneels and looks at the tiny humans on his desk. Soap has R/N hidden behind him, Ghost guarding Gaz. "What are you doing here?" Price asks softly. "We needed shelter for the winter." Ghost responds.

"Shelter?"

"Yes, the winter is coming and our home was ruined." Soap says.

"hm, and you have been without a home so…you came to mine?"

"Yes and we are sorry for not saying a word but we didn't expect a.. well-" Ghost replies.

"Giant?"

"Yes, a giant like yourself to live here," Gaz says

"Who is the other little one?" Price asks about you.

"Oh this is R/N, they are a little shy."

From behind Soap, you wave at Price. "Look, you all look old enough to be adults, so we'll make a deal, I let you live here as long as you don't go moving my stuff around or disturbing my peace."

"You got a deal," Ghost took his hand out, Price confused gave his index finger to shake hands with Ghost. "So, what are all of your names?" "I'm Ghost, this is Gaz, Soap and R/N." "Right, well, good night." Price walks back out, probably thinking this was just some weird dream after eating that soup for dinner.

By morning, he woke up to the smell of wood burning and after a rush to the fireplace, he found the four tiny humans all cuddled together near a small fire. He sighs and goes to his room for something to cover them all up with. After looking through clean laundry, he finds an old scarf, which he then places on you all and sighs. He cooked breakfast, went out of his way served a small plate for the four humans to share and then whistled. Soap being the first to get startled wakes the others up. "Oi, I made breakfast, you either come or I give it to the dog." And just like that, he found himself helping the four tiny humans to the table.

Days turned to weeks and months. Price eventually stopped rolling his eyes at Soap's jokes or Gaz's questions and soon found himself making little chairs, spoons, plates, beds, and ladders. He dedicated a room all to the four humans who brought purpose to his life once more. As the harsh January winter arrives, he finds that his little companions begin to sleep in his bed. When asked, R/N responded, "You bring us some comfort and…your bed is the cosiest and warmest of all."

These little friends he created became his lifeline, if he was sick, if he was tired, sad, happy, or emotional, they were there for him and him for them. Soon enough, when Spring arrives, Price lets them know it is okay to stay, that they have become a part of his daily life and he would enjoy their company all year round and when he says it, Ghost appears with an offering.

A handmade scarf, made from the tiny hands of his tiny and funny friends. Now, as he finds new things he is passionate about, he also finds new things to love about the world around him. For example, he loves that now, he doesn't have an empty home, there are people he can finally talk to and even though his problems seem different to theirs, the problems all seem to be equal in some ways.

Tiny problems, now becoming his reason to smile and laugh and even the very reason why he finds himself learning how to cook and wrap birthday or Christmas gifts. In this world, there are many problems and sometimes, if John knows he is looking too deep into them, he can take a step back and look at his four favourite tiny problems.

Tags:

@warenai @liyanahelena @avaleigh16 @the-royal-bee @enarien @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06

#cod #mwii #cod 141 #ghost cod #mw2 141 #cod x reader #cod mw2 #141 x reader #task force 141 #141 #141 au #141 task force #tf 141 #call of duty #cod mw3 #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod price #gaz cod #cod soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #mw2 #cod mwii #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod x gn!reader #gn reader

[emberfrostlovesloki]

The Cat's Out of the Bag [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@flowersforfrancis) Center (@hotchs-big-hands) Right (@grapeperfume)

Prompt: Aaron accidentally lets slip that he and the reader are together when the reader takes him home from the office while he has a cold. The team has a range of emotions about the news and Aaron and the reader go back to the office to face the music together. 

Pairing: [established relationship] Aaron x BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns. 

Category: fluff/comfort 

Word Count: 9.7K

Content Warnings: Sickness [cold/fever], headache, mention of abuse and beatings [in the past (Hotch)], minor mention of intimacy. Relationship reveal. If I missed any, please let me know. 

A/N: Hi loves! If you are headed into Spring Break this week have fun and please be safe. If you don’t have a break this week, please don’t let the Sunday scaries get to you. Be kind to yourself today. This fic is based on my March CM Prompt List (linked) The prompt is, “A character manages to catch a cold in the middle of Spring.” I hope you like this little fluffy fic. It was really fun to write. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_y/f/r/a_ = your favorite relaxing activity 

_y/c/h_ = your color hair 

Aaron liked to have control over most things. Even in things he couldn’t or perhaps shouldn’t control, he still tried to. This could include running on an injured ankle, or going out even though he knew it was too hot for his liking in an outfit that didn’t suit the heat. Half of this had to do with the fact that he could be stubborn, and the other half was a bit darker. The times that he went over these limits had often to do with his ability to endure. He knew a good deal about endurance from his work as a prosecutor, the leader of the BAU, and most impactful to him, from his childhood. His father had often reminded him that he wasn’t strong or a man with his fists, or a belt, or bottle, or anything Mr. Hotchner senior could get a hold on, and Aaron had endured it. He’d lived beyond it. Even with that being the case, and him trying to work through his questions about inadequacy, he still pushed himself too hard sometimes. It was a sort of naturally ingrained response unless he caught it early on. 

y/n had noticed this trait in him and had brought it up a few times when they were more stable in their relationship. It hadn’t exactly been an easy topic, as y/n wasn’t sure why Aaron, who cared about his health and ability to perform in the field would seem to hurt himself by doing something reckless by his standards. One afternoon, when he’d limped toward her, y/n tilted her head and said, “Hey, how was your run?” y/n had stayed behind to play with Jack on the swings and playground while Aaron got in his long Saturday run. He and y/n would normally go early, but they had both slept through their alarm due to a long case earlier that week, a swamp of paperwork when they got back and some mandatory training on Friday. All in all, it had been too long a week for anyone to like, and they needed the rest. Thus, the plans for the day had been postponed. 

Aaron wiped a hand over his face and then over his shirt. y/n looked at Jack who was now on the slide and then back to Hotch. y/n noticed how he was favoring one foot. She knew his gait better than anyone and it was easy to tell that something was up. Aaron could see it in y/n’s face -- the concern. He tried to brush it off by saying, “It was fine. My time was slower than normal, but I’d say that it was because I was so tired.” What Aaron had said was a lie. His ankle had started to hurt about halfway through his run, but he’d ignored it and pressed on anyway. By the time he’d gotten to the last mile, his right ankle was throbbing in pain. He’d fixed his expression to the best of his ability when he rounded the bend where he’d see y/n. He didn’t want her to be concerned.  His faking a normal expression and lying didn’t stop y/n from seeing that something was wrong. y/n was about to ask him to clarify because she didn’t have to tell him that he was lying to see that something was wrong. However, Jack came and hugged the back of her legs, looked up at his dad, and said, “Hi Daddy!” Aaron smiled and replied, “Hey Buddy. Did you have fun on the playground?” Jack nodded his head enthusiastically and said, “Mh hm, I made new friends.” This fact warmed Hotch’s heart. Jack could struggle sometimes in meeting new people. Aaron said, “That’s great, Jack. Now I hear that it’s going to get hot in a few minutes, so how about we head home?” Jack and y/n nodded, and y/n watched as Jack scrambled into his dad’s arms. Again she noticed the brief flash of pain on his face as they moved to the car. 

y/n waited until they got to Aaron’s apartment and Jack was tucked in for a nap that y/n moved to Hotch’s bedroom to ask him what was up. She didn’t hope this ended in an argument, but it seemed like this was something he was keeping from her and Aaron could be so closed off about his personal life sometimes. But if he was hurting, y/n wanted to know about it. She moved into Hotch’s bedroom where he was taking off his shirt and getting ready for a shower. y/n stood in front of him as he was sitting on the bed and leaning down to take off his socks as y/n said, “Aaron, what’s going on? You looked like you were hurting back there in the park. Also when you picked up Jack.” 

Aaron tried one last attempt to avoid this conversation as he said, “Well, my ankle is acting up a bit, but I’m sure it will be fine.” y/n blocked him from standing and took both of his large hands in hers. His fingers were calloused in the same places as hers from holding a gun or a pen in a grip that was probably too tight from stress. It was comforting to feel the thickness of his skin mirrored in her palm. y/n looked down at him and said, “Aaron please be honest with me?” Hotch looked down at their entwined hands and then back up at y/n. He didn’t like lying. So much of their relationship had been built on trust. They’d gotten together a few months after Haley had called their marriage quits. If Aaron was being honest, he’d loved y/n for a while before his union with Haley dissolved. But Hotch was a man who believed in his commitment to his wife and he’d never done or said anything to y/n, his newest agent, until long after he had his wife split. He loved Haley dearly and he’d never hurt her by cheating. And y/n loved Aaron and his commitment too, so they were willing to give up any hope with a man she had slowly come to admire more than just a boss, fellow agent, or friend. y/n fully holding herself back had been one of the reasons Hotch had liked her so much. He’d seen women fling themselves at him while he was fully with Haley. Before their relationship got rocky. Even when Haley was pregnant with Jack women had tried to woo him. But never y/n. Even when she knew that he and Haley were struggling she never made a move. She had distanced herself more from him. Had supported him and let things play out to their natural conclusion. 

As Aaron thought about the kinds of sacrifice y/n had made for him, he squeezed her hand and said, “My right ankle is hurting me pretty badly actually. It started in the middle of the run. I think it’s from when I had to dodge that bullet in the last case. I tweaked it a bit then, but it didn’t hurt much so I ignored it. But today on my run it really started acting up.” As soon as y/n heard this, she dropped to her knees next to the bed and gently pulled off his right sock. She didn’t care about how the sock or his feet smelled. If Aaron was in pain, y/n needed to make sure he was okay. By the look of his swollen and slightly bruised ankle, it didn’t look great. y/n gently caressed the spot on his foot and Aaron flinched instinctually even though y/n hadn’t hurt him. She looked up at his dark brown eyes and asked, “Sweetheart why did you keep running on this? It must have hurt you. You could have called me and I would have brought Jack and helped you?” y/n had never seen Aaron hurt or allow himself to be hurt like this. Sure, she’d seen him overwork himself, but this was different, this was physical more than mental.” Aaron bit the inside of his cheek before putting his arm under y/n’s arm and guiding her to sit beside him. 

Once she was seated next to him and looking at him with the same concern, he heaved a small sigh before saying, “I felt like I had to I guess. Sometimes I get that way.” y/n tried to understand why he’d feel that way and said, “Why, you’re hurting yourself. I wouldn’t see you as weak if you needed a break. You’re the strongest man I know. You don’t have to prove that to anyone.” Hotch closed his eyes and leaned his head into the crook of her shoulder smelling the slightly floral scent of her perfume. He didn’t want to be seen as he replied, “It’s not about proving it to anyone else, it’s about proving it to me. My… my father always said I was weak. He tried to break me and he never did, but sometimes I can’t push those thoughts out of my head. I know it’s juvenile to explain it like that, it was so long ago, but it still happens sometimes.” y/n turned to him, wrapped him in a tight hug, and stayed there for a minute to let the words sit around them. To give them the time they deserved. y/n pulled away and looked at Aaron saying, “It’s not dumb and it makes sense. Your father treated you horribly, so it makes sense that that would stick with you. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. I want you to know that you are good enough. I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.” Aaron nodded slightly and gave y/n a soft smile. He should have known that y/n would understand him. It wasn’t easy for him to have these conversations. To open up. He knew he was lucky to have y/n in his life who knew him so well and could tell that he needed some help sometimes in dealing with his thought process. 

y/n stood up and said, “Now, we can talk more about this later, but I want you to stay right there, No moving around and no shower. Just hang tight.” Aaron smiled and said, “Yes ma’am.” y/n chuckled at his tone but got up and moved first to the hallway where they kept a basin to clean Jack’s shoes in when they got muddy at school. y/n then got a glass of water and added ice before turning the tap to hot. Once the temperature was warm, but not scalding, she filled the basin. y/n then grabbed some Epsom salt from under the sink and added a fourth of a cup to the warm water; she stirred it with her hand until the salt began to dissolve. When y/n was happy with the mix, she carried the basin with two hands into the bedroom and carefully set it down on the carpet without spilling any of the liquid inside. She moved Aaron’s injured foot into the water and as soon as his ankle was submerged, he sighed with how good it felt. The sound made a rush of warmth rush through y/n, but she ignored it. Instead, she moved back to the kitchen and grabbed the cup of water and then some pain meds from the bathroom. She handed both items to Hotch and he took them with a smile and said, “Thank you sweetheart. How do you always know what I need?” y/n smiled and moved behind him on the bed gently messaging his neck and shoulders. He leaned back into her touch with another little groan and y/n felt that same rush again. At this point, she wondered if he was messing with her. For now, she just kept relaxing his stiff muscles and said, “I think I learned from the best because you take such good care of me. I think today I get to return the favor.” 

Aaron and y/n didn’t speak much more about what he had said, but they both knew it was going to be a conversation they would have again soon. Instead, y/n just made him relax and stay off his feet for the rest of the day. She took care of Jack and dropped him off at Haley’s while Aaron slept. Even though y/n and Hotch had been dating for a good while, and they were very committed, two things hadn’t yet changed in their relationship. The first was that y/n and Aaron still hadn’t moved in together yet. They both found comfort in having their own space for themselves. It was good that after a case they had a place to relax and unwind alone if they needed it. There was a comfort for them in space, though y/n mostly spent her time at Aaron’s

apartment. The second constant, which was harder to maintain, was that the team didn’t know they were seeing each other. There had been multiple times that members of the team had almost caught them, but shockingly it hadn’t happened yet. Aaron assumed that Dave knew and Hotch had spoken to y/n about it, and she said it was fine. If Rossi brought it up, then Aaron could tell him. There wasn’t a reason to directly lie to the team, they just hadn’t explicitly made it a point to tell them either. At the start, they had kept it a secret to protect themselves. It might not have been strictly against the rules of the FBI employee handbook, but at the same time, it was easier to just keep it to themselves. By the time that y/n and Aaron had become fully committed, they had just gotten used to having it be between themselves. It felt like something they could have outside of work, even though work did come into it often. Keeping it a secret worked for both of their personalities. For Aaron who was a rule follower, it just made sense, and for y/n, who was a bit shy about her personal life, it allowed her to not have to have ten thousand conversations that could be intimate with the team. However, that would all change a month or so later. 

It was early spring and the weather had changed to the warmer side instead of the cold Virginia often saw into late February or March. When Aaron woke at his normal 5:00 a.m. He felt a bit colder than normal as he got out from under the duvet. He assumed that it was because it was one of the rare nights when y/n was over at her apartment and not in bed with him. He also felt a bit foggy as he got up, brushed his teeth, and shaved. He didn’t think much of this either as he made his coffee and then headed to the office like he usually did when a case didn’t take the team away from Quantico. Aaron and y/n usually ended up getting to the office an hour early so they could have some time to themselves in the morning. They used to spend that time in the evenings after five, but as they continued to attempt it early in their relationship, it turned out that the team was much more likely to stay late in the office to finish up work than come in early. The only people who sometimes saw Aaron and y/n come in together or even enter Aaron’s office together were the janitors and now and then, Dave. They didn’t do anything inappropriate in the office, just work or talk on his couch. Hotch didn’t allow for hardly any outward signs of their relationship at work. However, he was looking forward to seeing y/n. It always seemed to set them up for a good day. 

When Aaron arrived at the office, he felt that same chill run through him and his head started to ache a bit. He felt hot under the collar and as he got up the stairs and to his office, he just now considered that he might be sick. He hadn’t been sick yet that year but it happened to him at least once annually. He hadn’t expected it to be in March. And because he hadn’t expected it, he chose to believe it must be something else like his allergies kicking in. He’d arrived early even for his standards, and he sat down and pulled out his briefcase and laptop. After he did this, he realized that he wasn’t feeling that good and he moved to his couch to just close his eyes for a minute to try and collect himself for the day ahead. Aaron was startled awake at the sound of tapping on his door. He sat up and the room spun in front of his eyes. The lamp by his desk particularly blurred his vision as he stumbled to the door. He felt hot all over and as he stood, a few beads of sweat moved down his back making him shiver. He hadn’t realized that he’d fallen asleep and was surprised to see y/n outside his door. He felt disoriented and said, “y/n? What are you doing here?” 

y/n looked at him concerned and said, “I’m here to hang out before work like we always do. Sorry I’m late, something came up at the apartment and I had to deal with it. Are you okay sweetheart?” y/n observed Aaron with a careful eye. He looked flushed and his eyes seemed slightly glazed over. He was also perspiring even though he must have had his office thermostat down to its lowest setting. Hotch nodded and said, “Yeah just a little tired I guess.” He stepped farther back and couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the fact that y/n was coming early. y/n slipped past him into the dim office. She was only a few inches away from his body when she noticed just how warm he felt, even from a distance. Once Aaron had closed the door with a soft click, y/n turned to face Hotch and placed a hand on his forehead. She could feel him burning up and was sure he was running a fever. She led him back to his couch and he sat down with a little grunt as y/n took his hand and said, “Aaron, you’re so warm. You can’t be feeling good right  now.” Hotch tipped his head back and half closed his eyes and in his normal, stubborn fashion replied, “I’ll be fine y/n. It’s just allergies or something. If I drink some cool water and just sit for a minute I can make it through the day.” y/n frowned at him and his antics before saying, “Aaron, you run warm, but you don’t run that warm. Also, your shirt is sticking to your chest because you’re sweating from the heat, so unless you’re planning on staying cooped up in your office all day, everyone else is going to know how you feel too.” 

Hotch groaned as he realized that his body was giving away with how bad he was currently feeling. His headache was back and he was longing for y/n to put her cool hand on his head again. y/n could see the look of defeat on his face. Ever since they’d had the conversation about his ankle and subsequent discussion about Aaron’s need for care just like everyone else, he’d started asking her for more help when he needed it. Today was another reminder that he could still feel the need to perform, even when he was sick, but that it was okay that he treated himself well too. That he wasn’t letting anyone down by needing some rest. y/n moved over to his desk and started neatly packing his things back into his briefcase and bag. By the time y/n was working on gathering his belongings, he was back on the cool couch and his heavy eyes were closed again. y/n pulled his suit jacket and tie up from the floor, it was the last thing she needed of his. y/n was grateful that she had brought all of her things up to his office. That meant that they could go straight to the car. When y/n had all of their things by the door, she moved back to the couch, gently touched Aaron’s shoulder, and said, “Aaron, can you get up? I’m gonna drive you home.” Hotch grumbled something that sounded like, “Just five more minutes,” and y/n huffed at how this sickness was making him feel. With a firm voice, y/n said, “Not five more minutes. If we play that game we’ll be here all day and then you’ll try and do work again or something. Now stand up for me.” 

Hotch gave a slight groan but slid his feet to the floor and pushed his body off of the couch. y/n could see a sweat stain where his back had been and hustled him out the door before he could see it and made a fuss about germs or something else to keep him in the office. y/n was sure she looked funny with her bag and purse, plus Hotch’s suitcase along with her boss leaning into her slightly as she wrapped an arm around his back to take him down the short flight of stairs and toward the elevator. Again y/n was grateful that Aaron was slightly out of it as Rossi exited the elevator bank on his and Aaron’s floor. The older man looked over at y/n and mouthed, “What’s wrong with him?” y/n mouthed back, “He’s sick and throwing a fit. He wants to stay.” Dave nodded, rolled his eyes, and pulled out his phone, indicating that she should check it when she was free. y/n nodded and kept moving Aaron toward the exit. 

The pair just missed the entrance of Emily, Derek, and Spencer which was a stroke of luck. y/n helped Hotch into the passenger seat of her car and dropped all of their things in the back then y/n slid into the driver's side and started the engine. Aaron had perked up once he was outside and he looked over to y/n and said, “Listen, sweetheart, I can drive myself. Really, I’ll be okay if I just get an hour or two of sleep.” y/n threw him a warm smile while looking up from her phone and said, “Aaron. Somehow I feel like if I’m not there watching you, you’re going to be working or trying to be productive. Now, to avoid that and you being sick for longer, which I know you hate, I’m going to take you home and watch after you. You’re running quite the temp and I want to take care of you, remember.” Aaron turned to y/n and smiled at her. He remembered in a hazy kind of way how much y/n cared for him in times when he could be stubborn and try and push himself. He’d ended up being much kinder to himself in the last month thanks to y/n’s care. That didn’t mean he didn’t still fall into his old habits, like today, but he had y/n to look out for his best interests, even if he didn’t always want to admit that in the moment. y/n heard her phone ping and she pulled it out of her exterior purse pocket. It was a message from Rossi that simply stated, “Take care of him. I’ll let an admin know that Aaron’s out with a cold - Dave.” y/n chuckled at how old school Rossi could be by signing his texts with his name like his contact wasn’t in her phone already. He was being helpful,  however, by telling Patricia in admin about Hotch’s absence for the day. That ensured that she didn’t have to go into his computer and file a report for him explaining why he’d be out of the office today. From the way Hotch was lightly snoring in the seat next to her, y/n highly doubted he’d have the energy to request time off when he got home, and even if y/n had picked up on Aaron’s password for his state-sanctioned computer, it would be a high-level breach of protocol on her part to go anywhere near the device. y/n could only imagine the intel on the computer in Hotch’s briefcase behind her, and in some ways was happy not to have such a burden of knowledge on her shoulders. 

The pair made it to Hotch’s apartment in good time despite the morning rush into town. y/n grabbed all of their things first and moved them inside Aaron’s first-floor apartment. If he was in his full faculties she knew he’d throw her a stern look and go back for their work things first and give some comment about the safety of sensitive information if she tried to get him inside first. He would be correct of course, but it was always funny that Aaron’s mannerisms had started to rub off on her with time. y/n wasn’t complaining. It made her a better and safer agent. She was surprised that the team hadn’t picked up on it yet though. After y/n dropped their things off inside the door, then turned to go back to Aaron. Hotch had woken from his light sleep when y/n gently closed her door. He had gotten out of the car and was walking down the sidewalk. His muscles were slightly achy as they always did when he got sick. He lifted his arms above his head and y/n flushed as his shirt revealed a small stripe of his tummy. The trail of hair that led from his belly button down to his nether regions was on clear display. It looked pressed down from his shirt and the sweat on his body and the sight had y/n sigh. She wished more than anything to just have it be the weekend and be laying next to Aaron with her hand under his sleeping shirt trailing her fingers through that strip of hair from his belly button and lower. Aaron noticed y/n freeze and he lowered his arms. He still wasn’t feeling good at all but couldn’t help but say as he stepped next to her, “Now looks who looks like they’re warm?” Hotch watched as the blush only worsened on y/n’s face and she said, “Ha ha. Now let’s get you inside and in bed, Sir.” That comment had Aaron’s eye widen and he sighed, putting his warm hand on y/n’s back leading them to the door. 

Once inside, y/n took the lead and took Aaron’s hand in hers, a classic gesture that they had become accustomed to in either of their homes. At the beginning of the relationship, Aaron was so used to not touching in the office or on the plane that he would take his hand away out of instinct. But over time he got used to the feeling of their hands conjoined. After a long case or a hard or boring day in the office which was most of them. Aaron could hardly wait to feel the comfort and grounding presence of y/n’s hand in his. They would hold hands whenever possible at home, even if it was impractical. y/n took him into his room and Hotch sat on the cool bed. y/n moved her hand to his shirt and started to unbutton it for him as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of the loops of his pants. This was the kind of soft intimacy that Aaron loved with y/n. She stripped his shirt from his body which was sticking to his skin slightly. When this was done, Aaron stood and slipped out of his pants. Now that he was home and he was in his room, the bed called him and he pulled the covers aside and dipped down to the cool mattress letting out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes just as y/n leaned down, picked up his clothes, and moved to the laundry hamper to put them there. She then moved into the bathroom and grabbed a few towels. Two she dampened with cool water and wrung out and the last she kept dry. y/n moved back to the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed. Aaron was shivering slightly and y/n assumed it was because of his sweat cooling him off. He usually kept it pretty cold in his apartment. y/n gently pulled the covers off of him and used the dry towel to wipe off his sweat. Hotch didn’t open his eyes as y/n did this. He was so comfortable around her. He used to feel like he needed to look a certain way and act a certain way even outside of the office like with holding hands, but now he could do or act anyway around her, and she could do the same. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open when y/n placed the cool towels on his forehead and chest. y/n smiled at his half-lidded gaze and brushed his hair back with her hands and he murmured, “Thanks sweetheart.” y/ns smiled and said, “Of course love, now just rest.” 

Once Aaron fell back to sleep, y/n got up and went back into the main room. She pulled out her laptop and sent in a request for a day off citing personal reasons as the cause. This wasn’t wholly a lie as taking care of Hotch was a personal reason to stay home for the day. y/n didn’t think about texting the team as she noticed some dishes in the sink and as she passed Jack’s room it seemed like it could use some picking up. y/n worked on the dishes first and then moved to the toys over the floor and bed of Jack’s bedroom. y/n knew that doing these small tasks would take a load off of Aaron’s shoulders later. These chores took about an hour and as y/n was walking out of Jack’s room, she got a call from Emily. y/n answered her phone and said, “Hey Em. How’s everything at the office?” Emily replied, “Well quiet for starters. You and Aaron are both out today. Apparently Hotch has a cold or something? Did you catch it too?” y/n thought quickly and pretended to not know that Aaron was sick and said, “Aaron is sick? Has that ever happened before? I swear he’s always in the office.” y/n heard Emily chuckle on the other end of the line and said, “Tell me about it. But anyway, what’s you’re excuse?” y/n through of a lie and said, “House problems. That drip in my ceiling from the workman redoing the unit upstairs turned into a river. I’ve been on the phone with maintenance and insurance for the last two hours.” There was a brief pause and Prentiss said, “Damn. Listen y/n, you’ve gotta get out of that place.” y/n laughed. She was happy to hear Emily and didn’t notice as Aaron moved out of his room. He’d taken Asperin which y/n had left on the table for him if he felt like he needed them. He was still very tired as he moved behind y/n with an empty glass and asked loudly enough for Em to hear Hotch ask, “Who’s on the phone, sweetheart?” 

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line before Emily said, “y/n, are you with Aaron. Did… did he just call you…” y/n quickly said, “Hey, gotta go Em. I’ll talk to you later” before quickly hanging up the phone. y/n turned to look at Aaron and his face took on a sheepish look as he asked, “I take it that was a member of the team?” y/n silently nodded before bursting out into a laugh and saying, “Aaron, how have we kept this a secret for so long and you’re the one who goes and says something about it? On the phone nonetheless?” Hotch couldn’t help but chuckle too as he placed his head in the crook of y/n’s neck. He inhaled her scent and said, “Can you blame me? I’m sick after all.” y/n scoffed; she could still feel the heat radiating off of him, and if he wasn’t so warm to the touch, she might have thought that he was doing this all to get them alone and out of the office. But Aaron would never do that. He was a great partner but also a workhorse and a dedicated employee. Aaron simply did not miss work, which was why y/n had to pressure and make sure he got home and rested. He’d be itching to get back to the office by tomorrow but he’d be out for longer if he overdid it now.  y/n would have to think about his response about the team finding about them. She’d also need to think about her reaction, though y/n was sure most of that would depend on how the team responded. For now, y/n turned to Hotch and asked, “What are you doing up out of bed? You’re supposed to be resting.” Aaron stood back and replied, “Just getting some ice and another glass of water.” y/n smiled at him and said, “Okay, I’ll grab it for you. Now, you go lie down. I’ll be right there with some cold water.” Hotch nodded and walked back to his room. y/n moved toward the kitchen with a smile on her face. She wasn’t happy that Aaron was sick, just that he was so willing to let her help him. He was used to the notion that he needed to take care of everything himself, so letting her help him in these small ways was a big deal to y/n. 

While y/n and Aaron were talking after y/n had hung up on Emily abruptly, Emily was standing in the center of the bullpen near her desk with her mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide with shock. Prentiss wasn’t even sure how to process what she had just heard on the phone. Em didn’t stay that way for long as Morgan came back from grabbing a cup of coffee and noticed her stunned state. Derek moved forward and said jokingly, “Well this is a rare sight. What’s got you all tongue-tied?” Emily gained her composure and said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?” Now Morgan’s interest was piqued and he raised an eyebrow stating, “Alright, try me, girlfriend.” Emily rolled her eyes at his nickname and said, “Well you know how Hotch is out sick today?” Derek nodded and Em continued, “Well I was just on the phone with y/n who is also missing…” Derek’s eyes widened as his brain connected the dots and he froze also. All the strong agent could say was, “No way,” Em nodded and said, “Well unless I have Hotch’s voice very wrong he just said ‘who’s on the phone sweetheart,’ to y/n.” Emily watched as Morgan’s eyes danced around for a second before he shook his head. Derek finally said, “Are you sure? What did y/n say?” At this point, Prentiss was smiling with the idea that y/n was seeing Aaron, just for the scandal of it all. She responded, “Not much. She said something came up, and she’d call me later, and then she hung up. If that’s not her trying to hide something then I don’t know what is.” Morgan let out a whistle and said, “Do you think she’s at his place or is he at hers?” That had Emily roll her eyes and say, “Well I’m not going to speculate about that right now. What I am going to do is go tell JJ about this. She will freak out.” Morgan agreed and said, “Do you think Rossi knows.” Prentiss replied, “Well we might just be freaking out. It could be something else you know. I might be reading into this.” Derek leveled a glare at her and Emily laughed, “Alright, you’re right. Listen, we can ask them tomorrow. Now, let me get to JJ and Garcia.” Derek let Emily past him. 

Once Prentiss was gone, he crossed his arms over his chest. He considered that Aaron was dating y/n and took the concept a bit more seriously than Emily. He wanted to make sure everything was okay with that. Not only for Hotch and y/n but for the team. He knew from his time as a beat cop that interdepartmental relationships could get messy if and when things ended. The team had worked well in taking y/n into the fold and he didn’t want to see that ruined for a romance that was technically against the rules. Apart from the team dynamic, Derek was scared for Aaron who had been under some heat from the director. But his concern was more for y/n who was new. If she got caught up in something she could easily be transferred to a small department in West Texas somewhere where prostitution, cattle, and oil are the only things there. Morgan closed his eyes and took a breath and tried to put things in perspective. When he opened his eyes Rossi was looking down at him with a knowing look. The older profiler had heard Emily and JJ’s excited conversation in the next room over. Morgan just rolled his eyes. There was nothing for him to do now, so he went back to his desk and got back to work. 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for the team and y/n and Aaron. At 3:30 y/n went and picked up Jack and they had dinner in the kitchen while Hotch stayed as far away from them as he could while still keeping up some conversation. Jack was excited about the school play of Peter Pan that was coming up and y/n encouraged him in all things. Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he watched y/n and his son talk animately about what the play would entail. y/n opted to spend the night at Aaron’s the evening just in case he needed anything or his fever got way worse. That would also ensure that she could drop Jack off at school before heading to the office. That evening after Jack was in bed y/n attempted to climb in with Aaron but he sat up and said, “y/n if I’m sick and you sleep with me, then I’m going to get you sick sweetheart, and I promise you don’t want to feel like this.” y/n gave him a small pouty face. Although he looked much better than this morning he was still flushed and warm and he did look tired. y/n didn’t want him to worry about her, so she kissed his forehead, got him another towel for him to place on his face, and moved to the couch in the living room. She pulled a pillow and blanket from the closest and settled in for the night. y/n quickly fell asleep not aware of what was coming tomorrow at the office. The fact that Emily had heard what she heard had slipped out of her head as she had spent the rest of the day taking care of Aaron and Jack along with filling out some forms at Hotch’s desk in his home office. 

The next morning came with soft daylight drifting into the living room where y/n was lying. She was woken by Aaron who ran his hand down her face and gently shook her shoulder. y/n smiled at him and noticed he was in his slacks and another white shirt. She stretched out her arms and legs and asked, “What time is it?” Hotch placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned down kissing her before saying, “6:25.” y/n hummed in response. She could feel that he was no longer warm. She could also smell his shaving cream which meant he’d gotten up early and got ready so she’d have time to use the shower and bathroom. y/n sat up and could also smell coffee. y/n leaned into Aaron and kissed him a bit more fervently, winding her hands into his short hair. When they pulled away he was flushed again and she ran a hand down his strong jaw as she moved to his bathroom. As y/n took a cool shower to wake herself up for the day, she considered just how kind Aaron was to her. The kindness she showed him he showered back on her in equal measure, if not more. Not on the field or in the office of course. There was never any favoritism, but outside of work they were there for each other and it felt so nice to have someone to fall back on on the hard days and someone to celebrate the good ones with. 

y/n realized that her plan to drop Jack off was infeasible as Hotch had left his car in the Quantico lot yesterday as she drove him home. That meant that they both dropped Jack off and went to work together. This was a fact that wasn’t missed by Spencer or JJ who arrived at the office at the same time as them. Aaron moved up to his office like normal to see all that he’d missed while he was gone yesterday. y/n had asked him if it was a good idea for him to go back to work if he was possibly still sick, but he really felt like what he had yesterday was a twenty-four-hour bug, so y/n didn’t try and stop him. He mostly likely had a say in the sick day policy and y/n knew that she’d come in feeling lousy before, so to not be a hypocrite, she didn’t say much, just that she’d be looking out for him in case he started looking bad again. While Aaron went up to his office, y/n moved to her desk and she could feel a strange atmosphere in the air. There was a kind of excitement that she hadn’t expected coming back to the bullpen. Emily and Spencer seemed to look at her differently as she waved at them and said, “Good morning! I missed y’all yesterday. Did I miss anything good?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Oh yeah, you did. I’m sure Em will tell you about it later.” y/n smiled, she loved drama, but she didn’t realize that she was at the center of this one. She moved to her desk and wrapped up the last file she had been working on at Aaron’s yesterday. When she was finished with that, she moved to the staff room to refresh her coffee. y/n heard Emily and JJ come in behind her laughing and y/n turned around and said, “Hey, JJ, Em. Spence said that I missed some drama yesterday. Who was it? Is it Janet and Brandon again?” y/n sounded so excited and the two other agents in the room looked at each other and burst out laughing. y/n tilted her head and said, “Wait. What’s so funny? What’s going on you two?” The slight exasperation in y/n’s voice had Emily laugh even more and then the brunette replied, “Well does, ‘who’s on the phone sweetheart’ sound familiar?” 

Once the words were out of Prentiss’s mouth y/n flushed deeply. y/n stammered a bit and that had JJ laugh and say, “I knew it! How long have you and Hotch been together?” Emily leaned against the counter and said, “Please, y/n. Spill the beans.” y/n had to let out a nervous chuckle and couldn’t believe that she had forgotten this was coming. y/n looked at her hands for a second and then back at her friends softly saying, “Almost a year now. We started considering ourselves official last April.” y/n’s statement had her two friends fall silent. Emily looked at y/n with surprise. Prentiss had expected it to be a few months, maybe four or five, but nearly a year was not what she’d assumed. JJ echoed the surprise and said, “That long? Where you planning on telling us?” y/n looked at their disappointed faces that had shifted from mirth to confusion and potentially hurt so quickly. y/n gave a small sigh and said honestly, “I never meant to keep it secret for so long. I don’t want to hide things from you guys.” Emily responded, “Well this was going on for a pretty long while y/n,” y/n nodded and replied, “I know. I know it has. When we started dating it was pretty soon after Haley. Aaron and I were good with it. But we didn’t want drama or blowback from everyone else. Not the team but the other departments. So we decided to just keep it between us for a while. And then I guess we just kind of fell into that pattern. It was nice. It was nice to have something just for us. I love you both. I love the whole team, but we know each other so well and so intimately. This gave us a place to just be us. But you and the whole team have supported me and Aaron so well. Always. And if you’re willing to support us in this too we’d be so happy. I can’t believe it took me so long to say something. I have so much to tell you both about us.” 

Once y/n used Hotch’s first name in that tone, with such care and softness, JJ and Emily softened immediately. They hadn’t seen her look or sound that way before. As y/n spoke her words resonated and Emily stepped forward and asked, “Does he make you happy? That’s what’s most important to me. Because I’m sure you make him happy. He’s a lucky guy that he could get you. But are you happy with him?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and replied, “I’m happier with Aaron than I’ve ever been before. You have no idea how good he makes me feel.” Hearing this, Prentiss and JJ smiled and moved forward to give y/n a hug. JJ said, “Well then I’m happy for you. But you better be ready for a lot of questions from us and Penelope over a few bottles of wine, y/n.” y/n smiled and replied, “You got it!” 

While the ladies were chatting, Aaron got to his office and sat down. He, unlike y/n, was aware that he would have to explain things to the team. Or more like a certain member of the team who had shot him a disappointed look once he’d gotten into the office. When Aaron had his laptop out and had answered two of the most pressing emails the knock on the door shifted his attention. Hotch didn’t even say, come in, Derek just entered and stood at the door for a second before he closed it behind himself. Hotch looked up at his agent who stepped forward and placed his hands on his hips. Hotch pressed his lips together in a firm line as he extended the greeting, “Morgan.” Derek nodded and said, “Hotch.” Derek spent a moment testing out what he wanted to say, but finally just came out with, “What are you doing Hotch? What were all those trainings and mandatory workshops on professionalism about if you’re going to get into a relationship with not only the newest agent in the department but the youngest agent in the BAU? Explain the logic of that to me because it feels pretty hypocritical.” Hotch did his best to hold back the sigh he wanted to let out. This type of reaction was the exact reason why Aaron had been hesitant to let the team know in the first place. He understood that he was going against all of the things he had said and tried to demonstrate. 

However, Aaron truly hadn’t meant to fall in love with y/n like he had. He’d tried to stop the feels at every turn. Hell, when y/n had joined the team he hardly believed in the concept of love anymore with how it had ended with Haley. But slowly, over time, the way Aaron had left about y/n shifted. There was a love there unlike any he’d ever seen before. It wasn’t anything dramatic. Not a damsel in distress or that a lust had come over him. It was in the little things y/n did for him and the team. y/n not only looked out for people in small ways but understood that she needed to take care of herself too. She personified not trying to pour from a cup half empty. It was rare to see someone be so aware of what they needed and when they needed to step away. Aaron thought it was very attractive that y/n knew herself so well. At the end of the day when the team asked each other in the elevator what they were doing that night, y/n would always confidently say, “Oh you know, _y/f/r/a_. How about y’all?” When y/n quickly realized that Aaron didn’t even seem to have any coping strategies apart from staying late in the office, she slowly started inviting him to join her for things she liked that helped her unwind. She never pressured him into anything. She never analyzed his patterns or made comments, and slowly Hotch had started to agree and had relaxed a bit. That was when he first realized his feelings for y/n might be deeper than just a simple affection. 

Of course, explaining this all to Morgan didn’t feel appropriate or practical. It was he and y/n’s relationship and he didn’t feel like he had to justify it, although he could see where Derek was coming from. The best Aaron could answer Morgan’s question with was, “I didn’t intend it to be like this. And you see us in the office. We don’t flirt or act any differently than normal. And if what y/n and I have together started to affect how we act on the field then I would end it immediately. You can’t judge us on that. And it’s my private affair, Morgan.” The word came out hotter than Hotch intended, but he stood by them. Derek let out a huff and said, “Well it’s not your private affair anymore. You’re setting up rules that you get to break and we don’t? Well, y/n gets to break them too I guess. You might be our superior, but not in this Hotch. If those rules exist then they apply to you as well. And have you thought about y/n? Her role in all of this? You’re her boss whether you’re in a relationship or not.” Aaron flushed, suddenly angry that Morgan wouldn’t think that y/n was in the forefront of his mind at every moment. In every choice, he made going forward. Hotch was about to stand when the door opened again. 

While Aaron and Morgan were having their argument upstairs, back in the breakroom y/n had honestly asked what she’d missed, and JJ and Emily had filled her in. Much to y/n’s joy there had been gossip about Janet and Brandon and she listened with rapt attention. While they were laughing about the antics in the department, JJ’s phone pinged and she pulled it from her pocket. JJ’s face dropped immediately when she read the text and y/n and Emily shifted their demeanor as well. y/n asked, “What is it, JJ?” The liaison looked up from her phone and said, “New case. This one seems urgent. It’s directly from the DA. A senator's daughter is missing and he’s running for re-election this year. The DA thinks there might be some connection. I’d better run up and print these files. Em, could you get the rest of the team, and y/n can you tell Hotch?” The two agents nodded and the trio left the break room with determination in their stride. It was fun to talk and chat, but when work needed to get done, they all switched to a serious mood. 

Derek didn’t even need to turn around when someone else stepped into the office. From y/n’s distinct tread, he knew it was her. The exasperation that Morgan had been feeling seemed to slip away as he noticed the way Aaron looked at y/n. y/n stayed quiet. She could sense the tension in the air, and that it might be surrounding her. The silence lingered and Derek realized how Aaron looked at y/n. The look on Hotch’s face was one he hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked, happy. Not in a childish “I have a new toy kind of way,” but in a deeply contented and loving way. Morgan dropped his arms and stepped aside, that look on Aaron was enough for him to move aside. y/n stepped forward. She gave Derek a small smile and then looked at Hotch seriously as she said, “We have a case. An important one it seems. JJ is printing the files and we need you in the briefing room.” Aaron nodded and replied, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” y/n nodded and Derek followed her out of the office, but not before giving Hotch a small nod. Not that he was fully onboard, but he could understand better now how much y/n meant to Aaron. Perhaps not only that, but how y/n had helped change Hotch for the better like she had helped the whole team with that. As the pair moved out of the office and toward the briefing room, Derek looked at y/n and asked, “So, how have you been?” y/n tucked a strand of her _y/c/h_ behind her ear and said, “I’m okay. It’s been an interesting day and it’s not even 11:00 yet.” Morgan chuckled and said, “Well, I think it will be okay. You’re a good person, y/n.” y/n smiled and replied, “Thanks, Morgan. You’re a good friend to me.” 

Upstairs, Aaron secured his computer and grabbed a legal pad and pen. He and Rossi moved down the hallway together. Dave, whose suspicion had very much been proven correct jokingly said, “So, do you get her home by midnight every night?” Hearing Dave’s joke, Hotch froze. He knew Rossi was just being silly. It was part of his charm. Hotch scoffed and replied, “Maybe, maybe not. What about it?” Rossi moved forward, placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder with a pat, and replied, “Well just let me know if you need a chaperone for your next date.” Aaron could only roll his eyes and say, “You’re as bad as Morgan, just in the opposite way.” Dave removed his hand and said, “Don’t worry about Derek. He’ll come around. I think we’re all just happy for you. Even if we won’t say it yet. Now, let’s get in there.” When Aaron walked in the room he felt like he was in high school for a moment as all eyes turned to him. He stopped in the doorway and flushed for a second. Emily and Penelope threw him grins but when his eyes landed on y/n he came to himself. y/n was giving him that soft smile that said, “Everything’s going to be alright.” Hotch took a breath knowing that it would be. If not what had they been working toward over the past few months of building a life together? Hotch moved forward, cleared his throat, and said, “This doesn’t seem to be our normal case. So let’s over over the information we have so far together then we can look at the information more closely before having another debrief. 

The beginning look over the case information and lead so far was full of ideas and notes and the team did what it did best. After a few minutes, everything settled into its routine like always, and only when Hotch looked over at y/n did he feel himself flush a small bit, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The case so far, was. It dealt with children and a prominent political figure, so the pressure was on the team to solve this quickly. That on top of the mixed reception for the team to his and y/n’s relationship had Aaron feeling a bit antsy. When it came to looking at the files for a few minutes, Aaron moved to the table. It wasn’t a coincidence that the only open chair was next to y/n. Hotch sat down and pulled his chair into the table. He opened his file. y/n, as always, could tell that he was on edge. She took his hand under the table and gave it a soft squeeze. She kept her hand in his, and after a moment, Aaron took both of their hands and set them on the table. Now that the cat was out of the bag it just felt more comfortable that way. y/n took a second to smile at his actions and give his palm another squeeze as her eyes moved back to her file. The cat was out of the bag and Aaron didn’t mind or fear it now that it had happened. The BAU was like a family. They supported each other through life and changes including relationships. And with y/n beside him, he knew that they could make it through anything together.

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#aaron x y/n #aaron x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #fanfiction #cm #reader insert #fluff #comfort #hotch fluff #hotch comfort #aaron is so sweet #criminal minds x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #levi writes #female reader #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #sick!aaron #the cats out of the bag #relationship reveal #domestic hotch

[elsweetheart]

hey lovey! i absolutely ADORE your writing and i just wanted to share the idea of a strong and intimidating reader getting positively TOPPED by abby and her pulling the kind of condescending tone and being like “aww not so big and scary when you’re all fucked dumb on my cock huh baby?”

GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET RN

my reader is usually a big cry baby wuss so i thought i’d spice things up and give this a go …..also i changed the prompt very slightly hope thts ok !!

and i shouldn’t cry, but i love it.

🎀 mentions of injury, blood, reader gets attacked by clicker (and briefly by a raider at the start), brat!reader? kind of? another ldr song title fic name… no one is shocked

you had to have your guard up. you didn’t know any other way. having your guard up meant no one could take advantage of you — so damn being friendly. there was no way in hell that would happen again.

you’d been on your own for a long time now, and you’d learnt to adapt. maybe you weren’t the best with fighting, but no one would ever get close enough to pull a swing on you — because you were ruthless with a pistol. until you weren’t of course, some random raider skimming your thigh with his bullet just enough to make you bleed like crazy before you put a hole in his skull.

fuck, you would have died. at the time you’d rather die than what really happened. abby and her league of idiots as you liked to call them came to your rescue. you were bleeding out when they found you, barely coherent from the dangerous cocktail of adrenaline and blood loss and you had somehow lost it enough to let abby carry you back to camp. big, strong, abby. you were humiliated.

so you had to prove yourself. they’d convinced you to stay with them, safety in numbers and all — and you must have received a concussion somehow from your injury because you agreed. this wasn’t like you, but they’d come to learn that. you were taking every patrol shift, gunning down the infected whenever you go the chance to show your impeccable aim— and most importantly, being pretty much a raging bitch to anyone who tried to get close. it wasn’t charming, to say the least— and everyone gave up trying to befriend you as you quickly outcasted yourself and gained a reputation of being intimidating. everyone, but abby.

when you’d first seen abby, under your blood loss, dazed, near-death-experience haze— you had seen her as a beacon of hope through your bleary eyes. not because she was saving you, no. because seeing someone so toned and buff was living proof that there was enough food out there, and working facilities that she built her body with. they were living somewhere that had food, a gym— it seemed like a safe haven where you could kick back for a while. as soon as you came to, you of course had come to your senses and remembered that she carried you all the way ‘home’ like you were some damsel in distress.

abby was the only person who wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at your quick and irritable remarks. you’d only ever get so much as a chuckle, or a playful eyeroll followed by a ridiculous comment such as “ooh, this one bites.” she was undermining you, laughing at you. the anger within you, from having an attractive yet incredibly infuriating girl laugh at you was constantly bubbling to the surface. you felt you were constantly proving yourself to the only person who wasn’t intimidated, and it was growing increasingly difficult.

so you agreed to a patrol with her, infact — you became patrol partners. abby still towered over you, so you had to try extra hard to big yourself up enough to feel like her equal. she was effortlessly good at killing the infected, and she never seemed to struggle to hoist herself up on top of walls and hit her targets with her gun. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed, but you’d never admit that.

you had proven yourself a fool twice now, when you’d wound up with a clicker on top of you — snapping it’s jaws at you, it’s foul breath so close to your face that if you weren’t fighting for your life you’d be gagging. they were usually a sack of bones, why was this clicker so heavy? holding it off with one arm, you struggled for your knife— but your hands were clammy and it was really wedged into your holster. it’s warm breath closed around your arm, and just as it was about to bite down — a shot rang out, the clickers fungus attachment exploding across you as it slumped to the side.

abby stood over you, wielding her pistol with a concerned look on your face.

“are you bit?” she practically exclaimed, analysing the shocked expression on your face. your eyes were glazed, having just looked death in the eye as you sat up. you checked yourself over, patting down your legs for any bites you may have missed. and then your midriff, and then your arms, and did you check your legs already? you pat them down again, staring into space— the sound of the bullet tearing through the clickers skull still ringing in your ear. that was by far the closest encounter you’d ever had, and you couldn’t believe your relief was owed to abby.

“are you bit?” she repeat after you met her with silence and you were quick this time to snap back.

“no i’m not bit!” you were sucking in jagged breaths, recovering as you stood back up, looking around in paranoia for more infected. then, your eyes fell on her and a surge of energy vibrated through you. “you wasted a bullet. i had my knife in my hand, you probably just attracted more fucking infected.” you barked, throwing your arm out angrily. abby stared at you for a moment before, and you couldn’t believe it, a smile crept onto her face. a smile that turned into a chuckle. she was laughing at you.

“your welcome.” she shook her head. “now let’s get the fuck out of here.” she nodded towards the exit, taking a few steps in that direction. she didn’t hear you following, so she turned around — probably to poke fun at you again. but you were stood, arms hugging yourself slightly as you looked around, eyes watery and wide like your brain was catching up to what had just happened. if abby wasn’t there, you would have died. again. that’s when she saw, for the first time — you looked frightened. the harshness was gone from your eyes as you stared ahead, in your own mind. abby knew she was on thin ice, but she stepped forward anyway and braved the plummet of cold water. “hey. you’re okay. you’re alive.” she spoke softly, the tone so gentle in fact that it brought you out your trance— eyes snapping to her. you looked sweet and dependent in that moment, but she’d wouldn’t dare ever tell you that. you were small but mighty, and even she believes that you could possibly stand a chance against her given enough anger.

you came out of it, clearing your throat and brushing the debris off your jeans. “let’s just go.” your guard was back up, just like that. the two of you walked back, with a quick lecture from you of course. “you don’t tell people what happened back there. do i make myself clear? if you do, i will know. and i won’t not fuck you the fuck up. okay?” you stared up at her, leaning on your hip. you know when a bunny rabbit gets angry, and they start thumping their back feet on the ground, button nose wriggling and claws digging stubbornly into grass? that’s exactly what abby saw when she stared down at you. she really didn’t want to smirk, she wanted to let you have this to make you feel better — but the upwards curve of her lip couldn’t help itself, and thankfully you ignored it.

“yes ma’am.”

abby couldn’t get that expression of yours out of her mind when she hit the showers. the one where you looked vulnerable, eyes wide and searching for her. you looked so… submissive. as she cleaned the dirt, grime and blood off her body that evening it became clear to her what you needed. she needed to force that bad attitude out of you, pronto — and she had just the tool.

don’t ask how she convinced you to even step foot in her room, she couldn’t tell you, maybe you’d made it easier than she thought you would have. maybe that’s how you got into the position you were in, legs pinned open by her own— a giant vibrating wand clutched in her hand as she sat pressed up behind you, holding the bulb straight to your clit. you didn’t even know your name anymore, all you knew was abby.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d wondered how she’d even acquired it. you’d heard rumours of a sex shop a couple of miles east, and a few days prior abby had asked you for the batteries from your reading lamp. you said no, so she must’ve found them elsewhere to power this beast of a sex toy. those thoughts melted away, with abby’s voice in your ear. you had no thoughts anymore, you were totally at her mercy once more.

embarrassment was a far away concept now, pants and underwear completely discarded from your bottom half — mewling against abby’s strong shoulder as she ground the vibrator into you. you were two orgasms down, drool pooled beneath your pouty bottom lip as she grasped your jaw with her free hand, keeping her hand squeezed there — reminding you who was in charge.

“aww. not so big n’scary now, are you? where’d all that attitude go, baby?” she mocked you, her voice gentle and sympathetic in the most condescending manner. you whined, hips jumping against the toy as she removed it from your clit to swirl around your inner thighs, spreading your embarrassing amount of slick everywhere. “this is just what you needed huh? to get fucked dumb. poor girl had such a stressful day didn’t she? needed that pretty pussy taken care of.” she was enjoying this, and you hated to say it but so were you. everything she was saying, was inherently correct. you had no fight left in you, and abby had let you drop your guard enough to be taken care of and it felt good. it was undeniable that you needed her.

“can’t — g—g’nna cum ‘gain. please.” you begged, hot tears on your cheeks which she rubbed into your warm cheeks once they reached your jaw where her hand was. she was rubbing the vibrating head up and down, nudging up beneath your clit at the perfect pressure and pace. you squeezed and gushed around nothing, awaiting her to grant you an orgasm.

“say thank you first. i made you my good girl, so maybe you should express some gratitude for once.” she sarked, voice caressing the shell of your ear making your spine tingle and toes curl.

“thank you abby. thank you! for everything! please!” you were crying now, and she had shushed you, placing kisses to your temple soothingly.

“take what you need baby, i’m right here.”

#abby anderson smut #abby tlou2 smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson prompt #abby anderson drabble

[tackytigerfic]

Fledgling

Some scrap words I won't be using for another fic, repurposed for the @drarrymicrofic prompt Hatch. Anyway, this is another dads Drarry piece (i know i know). Newborn Albus and newborn Scorpius, tired fathers, both recently separated. Harry struggling a bit with life as a parent. No major warnings that I can think of but do please let me know if there's anything. Unbetaed

ETA: actually re CW there is mention of an unwanted/unexpected pregnancy. Pls do proceed with caution if that's a tricky topic as I don't delve into it with the nuance it deserves. As to my stance, i am firmly pro-choice and it's not the sort of topic i usually take lightly.

Harry hadn’t thought the sling thing through before he left the house, and now his whole back is aching and he keeps whacking people with the unwieldy changing bag that won’t stop slipping off his shoulder. Albus is weeping noisily, one side of his tiny face pressed against Harry’s t-shirt, his new-blue eyes shutting and opening in bewildered exhaustion. Looking down into the sling, Harry can only see the fluffy top of his head, the fuzz of eyelashes, the slack weight of his plump cheek, but he can feel the tear-wettened patch of fabric spreading. They're both exhausted, the heat of summer making Harry's back prickle with sweat under the straps of the sling.

Harry's at the farmers market off Diagon, trying to buy vegetables. He doesn’t actually want to eat a vegetable, or indeed anything that involves chopping or cooking or making any sort of effort at all. In fact, what Harry wants is to go home and lie alone, in total silence, on the sofa in the back parlour, where the air is always cooler, and drink a very cold beer, and eat nothing but Monster Munch and Dairy Milk for dinner.

However Harry has to buy, cook, and eat vegetables, not just because he has to set a good example for his children, but also because if he dies of scurvy then he’ll be no better than his parents were, having a kid they were too young for, then going off and getting themselves killed. Though at least Harry's boys would have the Weasleys, which means they’d be loved at least, which is more than Harry was, and now his eyes are prickling with self-pity and guilt, and Albus is crying so hard he’s hiccuping, and god, Harry needs some sleep. But he won’t get any, because Molly can only keep James for another twenty minutes, and Harry has to get his grocery shopping done, and then it’ll be bathtime and bedtime and another broken night, and so the cycle continues, a relentless loop that might feel like a time-turner is involved except that Harry somehow manages to find brand new things to feel absolutely grim about every single day.

He sighs, pokes at a flabby-looking aubergine, then remembers how much work he’d have to do to make it taste good and just grabs some carrots instead. His hands are already full, the changing bag swinging and banging against his hip. Albus’s little legs are squirming in rage now, his whole body in muscular rolling motion against Harry’s chest.

“Please, baby,” he whispers, kissing the damp little head. “Please just calm down.”

He reaches for a butternut squash, and the bag swings forward and drops into the crook of his elbow, hitting the vegetable stall. Somewhere below him, a point he can’t actually see over the lump of screaming baby, he hears the hollow thumping noise of something falling and hitting the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a cabbage trundling onto the footpath, then another and another. The man who works at the vegetable stall gets his wand out and starts Accio-ing the fallen cabbages, giving Harry an unimpressed look which he extends to the baby in the sling. Harry feels suddenly enraged, and he drops the carrots so he can bring his hand up in front of them, a protective shield against the horrible man’s disapproval, and now the other shoppers are staring too, a woman with a bored-looking teenager giving Harry’s strewn carrots a pointed look as she bends to pick them up off the ground.

Harry can’t bear it anymore, hating himself, hating the people shopping like their worlds haven’t come to a standstill like his has, hating the great fucking changing bag and the carrots and even, for one awful shameful moment, the crying baby, and he moves further down the street to where there’s a break in the stalls, a mercifully unoccupied bench, and a busker playing some sort of multi-horned instrument that is making enough noise to drown out Albus’s wailing. He sits, carefully, so Albus is higher on his chest with one plump cheek against Harry’s fast-beating heart, and closes his eyes.

“Here,” a voice says, and Harry opens his eyes to see a plume of green feathery leaves, a hand clutching… is it the bunch of carrots? And then he looks up, beyond weary now, and it’s Malfoy there, because of course it is. “I saw you dropped these.”

Malfoy sits down uninvited, just sags down onto the bench next to Harry and lets the bunch of carrots fall on the seat between them. Harry hasn’t seen much of him since school, though he knew Malfoy had got married, and he’d definitely seen something in the papers when the baby was born. He looks awful, Harry thinks, too pale even for him, with sickly blueish shadows under his eyes. His hair is long, curling round his ears, slightly damp at the temples from the heat. He’s wearing a shirt that has some sort of greyish white stain all down the front, and the points of his collar are soft and floppy in the heat, like a puppy’s ears.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Harry says.

“I just want some rest,” Malfoy says, and he stretches his legs out in front of him and tips his face up towards the sun, closing his eyes. His throat is one long bared line, and in the crisp afternoon light Harry can see the fine glint of stubble all along his jaw where he clearly hasn’t shaved in a while. 

“This doesn’t quite seem like the right place for resting,” Harry says. “This one won’t shut up, for one.” He looks down at Albus, his throat tight, then back at Malfoy. “Sorry. For the noise, I mean. I’ve tried everything and he just won’t stop.”

“Oh.” Malfoy waves his hand vaguely in Harry’s direction, eyes still closed. “I can’t even hear him, really. It’s practically a holiday for me, hearing a baby crying that isn’t my own. Not my problem, for once. No, this one here is the reason I need a rest.” He opens his eyes as though it costs him effort, and jerks his head to the side. There’s a pram parked there, the old-fashioned silver chassis winking in the sun, gleaming hood drawn up to shade the baby inside. Harry can barely see through a haze of brightly coloured sun protection charms, anti-hex shields, and elaborate cushioning charms. The pram looks like something Harry had seen in old photos Petunia had, like a relic of some half-forgotten time, but Malfoy puts a hand out almost proudly and rests it on the handle, rocking the pram back and forth slightly. 

“He’ll only sleep if the pram is moving,” he says, sounding grim. “And I’ve only just got him to doze off. If he wakes up now, I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it.” He looks at Harry, eyes wide, and places a hand to his mouth as though he wants to snatch the words back.

“Give us a proper look, then,” Harry says, and Malfoy gently lifts the shielding charms for a moment as Harry leans over a little to peer over the edge of the pram to see the baby. He's small and pink and not at all pointy, just a soft squidgy-looking bundle under a light summer muslin, with an almost invisible sheen of hair the same silver as Malfoy’s on his little head. 

“That’s Scorpius,” Malfoy says, and he’s grinning a little, gazing distractedly into the pram as though he can’t quite help himself. Harry feels abruptly and surprisingly fond towards him. He’s seen that expression on his own face in countless photos of him with the boys.

“He’s cute. Interesting name.”

Malfoy goes pink, which makes him look a bit more like his old self, Harry thinks.

“It’s a family tradition,” Malfoy says stiffly. “And I happen to like it. And anyway, you can’t exactly talk, naming your child Albus.” 

“Hey, no,” Harry says. “I wasn’t being— I mean, sorry if I sounded sarcastic or something. I really do like it. There were three Harrys in my form, at my old school before Hogwarts. I would have loved something different. I always wanted a cool name like Rocket or… Trent or… McGuyver, or something. I’d have loved to be called Scorpius.”

“You’re making it worse,” Malfoy says, though his lips are twitching. “Trent? Honestly, Potter.”

Then, as if compelled by curiosity, he leans over towards Harry and gently eases down the side of the sling so that he can look in at Albus from the side. Harry wonders what the baby must look like, in this heat, having been crying for so long, but Malfoy’s eyes soften and he smiles into the sling like he’s forgotten Harry’s even there, and Harry feels that irrational glow of pride he gets whenever anyone admires his babies. He’s mine, he wants to say. I made him. 

Albus, as though sensing he’s being looked at, takes in a huge gulp of air with a sweet little wheezing sound and then, miracle of miracle, falls silent. 

Harry and Malfoy look at each other over the baby’s head.

“Oh my god,” Harry mouths, and Malfoy mouths back at him, pointing into the sling, “He’s asleep!”

Harry isn’t sure how long they sit there. He thinks he might doze off for a while, though he can’t be sure. When he opens his eyes, Malfoy is still there beside him, resting his head on the back of the bench, pushing the pram wheel idly with one foot so that the whole thing rocks gently back and forward. He must sense Harry moving, because he yawns hugely and then blinks at Harry, or maybe into the sun, which is now setting behind Harry. At some point, the street musician must have moved on, because everything has the quiet, winding-down hum of early evening.

“This idea might be utterly mad,” Malfoy observes in a whisper, since both babies are, miraculously, still asleep. “I don’t know, since I’m so sleep-deprived I think my sense of reason has been affected. But would you possibly like to do this again sometime?”

“What, present each other with root vegetables and then fall asleep next to each other on a public bench?” Harry asks, amused. “No one could ever say we don’t know how to have a good time, I suppose.”

“Are you lonely?” Malfoy asks abruptly. “You seem lonely. Is that okay to say? I was watching you, you know, trying to buy your vegetables, and you looked about as miserable as I feel, and guess what? I was glad. That’s why I came to talk to you. I don’t think I’d have got the courage up if you’d been just standing there in the sunshine all golden and dewy and— and healthy looking—” He waves a hand dismissively in Harry’s general direction, the gesture somehow taking in every exhausted cell of Harry’s body. "Which, by the way, you do. Which is bloody unfair. But you also looked absolutely bloody livid and like you were about to cry.”

“I was,” Harry admits, because if Malfoy is oversharing, he might as well too.

“And I was glad,” Malfoy finishes, with a vicious satisfaction, and sits back. “I would have assumed you’d be really good at this, like you are at everything. No, no, I don’t mean you’re not a good father, Potter, anyone can see you’re hopelessly devoted to your offspring. I just meant, you looked like you were struggling. That you weren’t enjoying yourself. It was… refreshing. Reassuring, in a way. Like I’m not the only one who’s not a natural at this.”

“Albus was an accident,” Harry blurts out, covering the baby's ears carefully with his hands, though he's so deep in sleep he doesn't even stir. “Ginny and I were already separated. She had taken the job in Wales. She didn’t even realise she was pregnant for months, because she was training so hard she thought that’s why she felt tired all the time. And when she told me, I was so happy. She was crying and crying, she hates crying, I don’t know if you know that about her, probably not. But she just couldn’t stop, these big tears sliding down her cheeks. She was completely in shock, and I didn’t care at all. I wanted him, so badly, straight away. I could barely believe I got to have him. It felt like everything I had ever wanted, and that was all that mattered to me at that moment. And now he’s here and it’s like I’m being punished for it. It’s so hard, Malfoy. I’m on my own most of the time. Ginny was meant to have them at weekends, but she’s so busy and I don’t really want them going all the way to Wales without me just yet. And Ginny can’t fly after a week of broken nights, it would be too dangerous. So it’s just me, most of the time, and I’m so bloody lonely. Some nights when I’m up with one of the boys I just stand at the window and look out, just to see if I can find another house with a light on, so I feel like I’m not the only person in the world.”

“Wow,” Malfoy says. “That is a lot to be carrying around with you. Emotionally speaking, I mean, though it looks as though you’re overburdened physically too.” He eyes the changing bag with distaste. “Honestly Potter, are you a wizard or not?” He swings a hand over the bag, and Harry sees the tip of his wand sliding into his hand before Malfoy does a complicated little shivery wand movement over the bag. Then he sets his wand tip to the shoulder strap of Harry’s sling and performs a mild sticking charm, giving the sleeping lump of Albus a little pat before he sits back again. “There, that should hold until you get home.”

“Home…” Harry feels a familiar lurch in his stomach, the knowledge that he has forgotten something crucial but can’t quite put a finger on it. “Oh my god, Malfoy. I was meant to be at the Burrow to collect James at five o’ clock. What time is it? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. If I’ve made Molly miss her Witches’ Institute meeting she will hex me sideways.”

Harry stands, Albus wriggling and grumbling at the sudden movement and then subsiding back into sleep. The sling feels secure, more comfortable around the tired muscles of Harry’s shoulders. He grabs for the changing bag, which he lifts easily with one hand, the dead weight of it now lightened. 

“Wow, Malfoy. What was that charm you used on the bag? It’s actually manageable now.” 

“It’s a variation on the Feather-Light charm. Same principle and same incantation but a slightly different wand movement. Makes the results a bit more stable.”

“Nice.” Harry slides the strap of the bag onto his arm. “You’ll have to show me. Next time?”

“Next time,” Malfoy said, then grins, a sudden and charming smile that shows his nice teeth and makes him look younger and somehow softer. He has a dimple, Harry notices, tucked right into the dip next to his lip, easy to miss unless you’re really looking.

“Great, I’ll owl you. And Malfoy— Thanks. For the bag, and listening to me, and… well, everything.”

“And for the carrots.” Malfoy picks up the bunch with a flourish, the delicate green fronds quivering at the movement as he hands them to Harry. “You mustn’t forget those.”

“Well, I think I’m going to get a takeaway,” Harry confesses. “But I shall make sure to put these carefully into the salad drawer of the fridge so that they can moulder away gently there for a few weeks.”

“As is right and proper,” Malfoy replies, very seriously, then the slight quiver of his lips turns to a grimace as a squawk arises from the pram.

“Once more unto the breach,” he says, already moving towards the pram, reaching in to where the blanket is rippling from tiny kicking legs. “I’ll see you soon, Potter.”

“Good luck,” Harry says, tempted to pat him on the back or shake his hand, but catching himself at the last minute and realising how odd it would be to just start touching Malfoy all of a sudden. 

He sets off for the Leaky, hoping that that queue for the Floo won’t be too long. At his chest, Albus sleeps on, and Harry feels the tension leave his shoulders, somehow unburdened.

#Not to start going on and on about craft #but it's incredible how much i've learned about writing in the few years since I started creating fics #i feel much more in control of my process #and also find it easier to work and rework a piece #it's been so useful since i started writing original work #good for patches of writer's block too #as i can go back to older pieces and see how I can tweak and mould them into something closer to what i want them to be. #i mean it's a constant learning process right? #but it does feel like i *am* learning #which is very fun #anyway #drarry #drarry microfic #rowing and writing

[stedefxckingbonnet]

I've been loving all the Izzy/reader fics, thank you so much for them! If you're doing requests, I'd love one where Izzy accidentally hurts the reader. It's 100% by accident (he turns around holding his sword and mildly slices reader, a playful shove accidentally makes reader lose balance and fall down steps type thing etc.). The crew, especially Stede, are furious and won't let Izzy anywhere near reader and he's absolutely wrecked with guilt. Would love a very fluffy ending!

Thank you so much for all of the love and for reading my fics at all!! <3 It truly means everything to me. Thank you so much for this request also—I know some of you have been wanting some more angst from me (with still happy/fluffy endings of course hehe, at least this time...maybe one day I'll try my hand at pure angst but I'm not sure today is that day), so I figured this would be a great prompt to start with on this sort of an endeavor! Plus, I just love it so much anyways, ever since it first came into my inbox I've been thinking about it. Thank you so much again for your request, and I hope you enjoy! Though like I said, please bear in mind I don't have the most experience with emphasis on angst so I apologize if this is not very adherent to that! Anyways, as always, requests are wide open!

Love,

Lavinia

Star-Crossed | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: angst (with a happy ending but it takes a bit to get there), mentions of blood, some strong language, kissing, sort of already established unspoken relationship but also not 100% established right away

Word Count: 3912

Finally, the sun shone once again and not a single cloud was etched into the sky any longer. The crew of The Revenge almost forgot that sunlight even existed and were becoming accustomed to such foggy, grey skies forever—but, finally! Everyone was filled with such jubilee upon the sight and were quick to show it by chasing each other around on the main deck, swinging from ropes, dancing, plotting to convince the captains to grant them all a day on land to bask in the sun's rays—everyone except the first mate. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Izzy Hands leaning against the mast pole—no, slumped against it. You excused yourself from the gathering and rushed right over to Izzy, who stood up a bit straighter upon your arrival.

"I'm not going over there."

"You always have to have the first word, don't you?" you teased. "Do you want to, perhaps...get away from all this for a moment?"

"That wouldn't be so bad," Izzy shrugged, following your lead as you scurried off the main deck and into the hallway below that led to the quarters. "What are we doing here?"

You drew your sword from its sheath, smiling playfully. "I've practiced since we last dueled."

Izzy couldn't help but return a grin, fetching his own blade. "Is that so?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" you inquired as you slashed the air. Izzy bowed impishly, to which you accepted with a curtsy, giggling. Your duels often were much like dances—precise footwork, synchronized, graceful movements across the floor, eye contact—lots of eye contact. The clash of the swords was like music to your ears, but Izzy's exasperated laughter was a much more magnificent melody, though followed next by your own ear piercing scream.

Izzy's worst nightmare had come true—there you were, bent over in anguish, clutching your stomach. Blood was all over your hands as you tried to stop it from gushing out of you. It was a deep cut and you had not actually been stabbed all the way through, though you still were going to need to be patched up sooner rather than later. Izzy's sword slipped out of his hands as he rushed over to you without any hesitation, scooping you up in his arms and placing his hand upon your left side to try and stop the bleeding. He rushed you back up to the main deck, guilt taking over him with such ease. His eyes were glossy, tears threatening to slip out of them.

"Some help over here!" Izzy demanded, and the crew all simultaneously turned their heads. Everyone sprinted to your side the second they heard his call, and saw your state.

"What happened?" Stede asked, his voice wavering.

"I'm okay, Stede," you managed to laugh, followed by a groan of pain.

"Clearly, you are not," Stede sighed. He turned to Izzy, a hand on his hip. "Izzy, what happened?"

"We—we were just dueling, and—"

"You hurt them?!" Jim spat. "Roach, will you—"

"Already on it," he assured them, carefully slinging your arm around him as he dragged you off into the distance.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Not another word, Izzy," Stede shushed him.

"Stay away from them," Lucius hissed as he walked off with Pete. Jim practically shot daggers out of their eyes, and Olu just sort of frowned. Izzy had never felt so defeated in his entire life. He immediately holed himself up in his quarters, draping across his bed almost lifelessly, hoping he would never have to emerge once again, not with the knowledge that he had hurt you so terribly and that the crew thought of him as some sort of monster. He was almost okay with them just being frustrated or annoyed by his presence, but being perceived like this created a deep wound in his heart he never expected to experience. If this is what he gets for truly trusting someone again, showing them a tenderness he had never felt for anyone, he did not want it.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Roach got you all patched up in no time and he anticipated your healing time would not last longer than a week, two at the most. You were never too worried in the first place, and as much as you appreciated the crew's care toward you, it felt as though they had blown the situation out of proportion. The first thing you yearned to do as soon as you were free to roam the ship once again was to find Izzy, as you knew he would be worried and probably swimming in his guilt. You nearly ran over to his quarters, though Stede popped out from out of nowhere, startling you.

"Stede! Fuck," you laughed. "You're quite...stealthy."

"I suppose so," he laughed with you. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, much better. I never really felt too bad in the first place," you beamed.

"Well, that is a relief!"

"Yes," you nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to see Izzy now—"

"I actually don't think that's very wise."

"What? Why not? He didn't mean to hurt me, Stede—"

"—But he did hurt you—"

"—Hardly, and it was an accident—"

"I will not allow Izzy to see you."

"But—"

Out of nowhere, Jim and Lucius appeared, gently clinging onto your arms but with enough force to drag you away. You kept yelling for them to let you go but it was no use. They would gently assure you it would be for the best—at least, Lucius tried to be more gentle about it.

"You're better off being far away from that fucker," Jim muttered as they brought you back onto the deck. The entire time you squirmed, trying to escape their and Lucius' grasp. "We're going to Spanish Jackie's today."

"Fuck, you're serious? Might I remind you, she almost killed you last time!" Olu sighed out of a deep concern for Jim.

But this was perfect for you—the perfect opportunity to stay on the ship and talk to Izzy. You wouldn't let anyone stop you. Before you knew it, The Revenge had docked, and you had it all planned out. You followed everyone off of the ship, but stopped in your tracks just as you were about to walk off, which caused Buttons to bump into you, though obviously he was unfazed.

"Is everything alri—" Stede started to ask.

"I forgot my book," you feigned a gasp. "I was going to sit on that rock over there and just get lost in it for a bit."

"Well, who am I to stop you from grabbing it?" he smiled pleasantly.

You nodded gratefully and hurried down to the cabins. You knocked on Izzy's doors, knowing he was still in there.

"What is it," he spat.

"Izzy, can we talk?"

The prolonged silence was beginning to cause you to believe that he wanted nothing to do with you, until finally, he swung open the door. "You shouldn't be here."

"Yes, you should not," Stede almost chided, his voice suddenly heard from behind you.

"This is ridiculous!" you cried out as Stede practically forced Izzy back into his quarters and slammed the door shut.

"Let's have a nice day on shore, shall we?" Stede sighed happily. "It's such a beautiful d—"

Before he could finish his sentence, you had already stormed off the ship, and you were having the opposite of a beautiful day. Your heart only ached for the rest of it, yearning for the first mate and to reassure him and to rekindle things, to let him know that all was well on your end. You craved to stop the incessant self loathing and blaming you knew he was putting himself through. Yet all you could fucking do was feign a smile while everyone drank their own sorrows away, some almost even drinking themselves to death.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Weeks had passed you by, each day dragging painfully slowly and wasted wondering if they would just end any sooner, wondering if the day where you even got to think of breathing a word to Izzy again would exist and come. The crew still fixated eyes on the both of you, doing everything in their power to keep you away from one another. Jim didn't hesitate to physically drag you away if you even tried to go near him, and Pete would even try to threaten Izzy (to which, Lucius would step in and take over, saying things such as: "You're cute, babe, but I've got this. Not worth your time.")

If you couldn't talk to Izzy, you didn't want to talk to anyone. You were perfectly content sitting by the window of your room curled up with a good book, away from everyone until you absolutely had to be amongst them.

Why couldn't they just listen to you? Why did everything have to be so black and white? Why did it have to be handled this way? Why did it have to be this difficult? Sure, Stede would discourage Jim's literal dragging you away ("Surely there are better ways of handling this...") but he never stopped it. He still stopped you from seeing Izzy.

Finally, you couldn't ignore the fact that you were parched and so you slipped out of your quarters. As you did, you noticed the first mate also exiting his. The two of you stood there for a moment, flabbergasted, taking in one another's presences. You opened your mouth to speak, but Izzy was already shoving right past you. Without thinking, you latched onto his wrist. "Izzy, wait—"

Izzy escaped your grasp instantly, looking vacantly upon you. You prepared something to say once again, but Izzy wouldn't hear any of it. He didn't need to hear from you of all people that he had caused you harm. Or, almost worse—that you didn't hold it against him. He would understand more if you did share the feelings of the crew, but not if you forgave him. The thought made his head spin—fuck, he wanted you to forgive him, he wanted you to know he never meant to cause you any pain. But he knew it wasn't worth it. He knew that as long as you were around, you would be beloved either way and better off without his love and care, and he would be hidden away in the dark from everyone, left to rot and be forgotten about, and when remembered, ridiculed. He almost wished that someone would just berate him directly instead of having to see you every single day and how everyone's attitudes shift when you are within close proximity of each other. How the environment grows more tense. How no one is stating the obvious of not wanting him there. He wasn't stupid, he knew. He knew for a long time before any of this even happened, and it only had gotten worse now.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

There came a point where you and Izzy were allowed to speak, but only in supervised circumstances. He immediately deemed this not worth it, so, it elt as though you were still forced to succumb to the previous, awful arrangement. It had been almost two months since the initial incident and with every accidental brush of the hands and every almost smile and every stolen glance, your heart only hurt more, you only pined after him even more. You missed the warmth he brought you even on the coldest days. You needed the confirmation of your feeling safe that he was able to provide. The two of you were finally growing almost attached at the hip but now you were torn apart, pieces of yourself still stuck on him and you needed those parts of you back. No, you needed them to exist still, but only if you could properly share them with Izzy.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Every day, you saw the expression that Izzy displayed on his face for all to see—pure misery, regret, and even this sort of grief. This loss for something still there, though, not at all tangible anymore. You became a ghost that didn't even haunt him, but only lingered at the expense of unfinished business with him. He could never comprehend that you longed to speak with him just for the sake of it, for your own enjoyment. That wasn't possible to him, it simply didn't seem in the cards.

You really couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't endure him avoiding you like the plague, even if he was acting on behalf of the crew's wrongful wishes. You couldn't take the way he looked at you with such a hope and desire, yet such a soul-crushing defeat that he gave into ages ago.

"You got a minute, Captain?" you asked Stede as calmly as you could the second you finally forced yourself out of bed for the day.

"Why, of course!" Stede beamed, excited that you were about to confide in him about something.

"We need to talk about Izzy and I."

Stede only sighed, leading you to his own cabin and not saying a word until he was certain the door properly shut. "I am only doing what is best for your safety—"

"Izzy makes me feel safer than anyone on this ship," you confessed. "He is always looking out for me, no matter what. He would never let anything bad happen to me. I was so happy the sun had finally come out and I just wanted to have a bit of fun so I asked Izzy to duel, it's just something we do sometimes for fun. He didn't mean to injure me, but I'm sure he already feels bad enough as it is with you all treating him like he needs to be locked away forever—"

"I appreciate you trying to look out for him. You have always seen the best in people—"

"Stede, is that Romeo and Juliet on your shelf?"

"Why, yes!" Stede nodded, forgetting the true subject of the matter for a moment. "It's such a tragic story."

"Isn't it?" your lips curled into a determined smile. "So sad that the two families kept the young star-crossed lovers away from one another. All because of some sort of unnecessary family feud...Well, they were naïve anyway to think their children wouldn't still find ways to meet and fall even further in love. Maybe if they had been accepting of their love, they wouldn't have died so young and so devastatingly..."

Stede wasn't quite catching on yet. His hand flew to his chest, clearly touched by your sentiments still "It is sad."

"Stede, you are quite literally pulling a Romeo and Juliet on Izzy and I...do you not realize that?"

Suddenly, it all clicked. Stede's mouth practically unhinged from his jaw. "You...you love Izzy?"

"We have...we have a bond and it goes beyond him just trying to do his job. He really does look out for me, and I've really grown to care about him and I worry about him whenever he's off on the side or seems really distressed. Even on my worst days, being around him is enough to almost make me forget about my troubles. I feel so...so at peace when I'm with him. I really don't worry about anything when we're together. And keeping me away from him is really doing a number on me—"

"It was wrong of me to try and keep you two apart," Stede sighed. "I thought I was doing what was best for you, but only you know what is best for yourself. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, Stede," you smiled slightly. "If I ever really need something, I promise I'll tell you. I don't take "talking it through as a crew" lightly."

Stede returned your smile. "I don't understand this at all...but, this is your own endeavor. We just want you to be happy."

You quickly pat Stede on the back as you bursted out of his room and made haste towards Izzy's. You knocked on his door with utmost urgency. No response. You continued to knock until finally, Izzy had enough and swung open the door, almost causing you to stumble upon entering.

"Izzy, are you alright?"

"Are you?"

"You barely nicked me," you assured him, shutting the door behind the two of you. "Izzy, I am okay. Please, don't feel bad."

"I don't think you should be here right now—"

"But Captain Bonnet said—"

"—Just go...Please."

Your heart was beginning to sink into the depths of the ocean in your chest. You could only manage to look at him—he who had such a glossy look in his eye, accompanied only with an expression of nonchalance. But you could see that he was hurting—you knew by the way he was hunched over and fiddling with his glove. Izzy could hardly look at you without wishing he could disappear. He had hurt you, and everyone went flocking over to you instantly, not even bothering to hear his side of things, nor even yours, where he knew you would have defended him, though you still were acknowledged more than he had been. But worst of all, he had hurt you—and he would never be able to recover from that. Never be able to forgive himself for it. And, he knew no one else would, either. He wouldn't blame you if you didn't, either. You made your way over to him slowly, sitting beside him.

"Look at me," you pleaded.

Finally, Izzy's eyes met with yours. All he could see when he gazed at you was the pure concern, the pure care in your pupils. How could you still care for him after what he had done, and after the crew painted him to be some sort of a villain even more than before?

"I'm okay," you reassured him. "You didn't hurt me. You didn't mean to. I'm the one who started the duel, and—"

"Don't fucking blame yourself. It was me. All me."

"Izzy, please—"

"I think you should leave."

Such a statement felt like a knife through the heart.

But all Izzy truly wanted was for you to engulf him in your arms as he allowed himself to cry against your shoulders. He wanted to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. But it just hurt too much. He felt as though he didn't deserve that. You were the only person who is able to see him for who he is, and even still, he felt as if he didn't deserve you, nor your understanding, nor your fondness.

Part of you somehow knew that Izzy didn't mean what he just commanded you to do—it felt like even further of a plea to stay. You hovered your hand above his arm, and he ever so subtly nodded—yes, please. You began to gently rub his arm, even trying to massage some of the smaller knots out. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Never. You will never scare me away. It's because of you that I feel so safe—but it's not only that you are an exceptional first mate. You are so much more than that to me."

"But I hurt you."

"You have never hurt me. Ever. Hell, you're the one that picks up the pieces when I do get hurt."

Izzy turned away from you, unable to control the droplets flying out of his eyes now. You could tell he was crying, but you knew not to overdo it with making sure he was alright. You carefully moved in a bit closer to him, resting your head upon his shoulder.

"I never meant to—"

"I know, Iz, I kn—"

"Let me finish," he requested gently. "If not for your conscience, but for mine. I become so afraid of hurting you and of messing up with you that I did. I didn't mean to, but I still did. I'm sorry, is all."

"Izzy, are we talking about the same thing anymore?"

"I don't want you to think I'm a monster, too," Izzy whimpered. "I know...I know I've done some things I'm not proud of. Things I wish you never had to know about."

"But I still love those parts of you. They are parts of you. But, they don't have to define you, either."

"You...what?"

"What?" To say you were confused was an understatement.

"You...love those parts of me?"

"I love you. Dammit, Iz. It's always been you," you sighed, happiness washing over you just as much as woe and a slight worry he wouldn't reciprocate your sentiments had.

"You...what?"

"Is that the only thing you say now?" you laughed nervously.

"I have this instinct I can't fight off and it's to look after you in ways I wouldn't normally look after anyone else. If anything ever happened to you, I'd blame myself, and I have."

"What are you saying?"

"I...think you know."

"I think I do, but maybe I don't—"

"Oh, fuck off!"

"Izzy, I really don't know what you're trying to say—"

"I love you."

You laughed, relief overcoming you. You gently took his hand in yours, stroking his thumb with yours. "This isn't a bad thing, you know. I don't want anyone else. I'm glad it's you, Izzy."

"The crew isn't going to be happy about this—"

"I talked to Stede, and fuck whatever the rest of them think," you shrugged. "What do they know?"

Izzy chuckled, gently pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand. "Fuck them."

"Fuck them so much," you laughed as you leaned in, unable to stand the distance between the two of you anymore, and nor could Izzy. The anticipation not only from the abundance of time that passed the both of you by and all you had were glances which you could only hope communicated something, but also since the moment you met and especially since your connection began to blossom, shone through in the kiss shared between the two of you. This moment felt long overdue and you now wanted not to waste anymore precious time—you couldn't afford to. Your heart began to do pirouettes as your lips danced in sync. You had never been so certain about what love could mean for you until Izzy Hands waltzed into your life.

And your touch, your kiss made Izzy feel the most beautiful and understood that he ever had. As he melted into the warmth your affection and his excitement emitted, he no longer felt like a monster but rather a person, someone, worthy of such love and tender care. This wonderful phenomena was only centimeters away from him the entire time he spent withering away and conforming to all other beliefs of his character, believing the slander and the accusations, almost becoming them. With you, he was able to let go of these perils, to escape the shackles restricting him from seeing the person he truly is and could be. To leave the past behind in such a way not reminiscent of denial, but the refusal of allowing it to define him and hold him down. He could care less what the crew thought. For once in his life, he was happy, and no one, nor nothing should even dare to try and take that from him. You surely wouldn't allow anyone to. You were prepared to protect him just as he continued to do for you. And as long as you were around, happiness wouldn't escape him. Not anymore.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #izzy hands x reader #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #fanfic #ofmd s2 #ofmd izzy hands #requests are open #please request #angst #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #fluff #i think this is the best thing i've written on here so far wow #our flag means death season 2 #might i remind you all i'm not the best with angst but i did my best #israel hands #israel hands x reader