#woah those are words I wrote

[thebadchoicemachine]

Scout Goes To The Dentist and everyone suffers

Ao3 Link

(recommend reading there bc tumblr screws up the format)

Summery: Scout needs to get his wisdom teeth out. Scout does not want to have any dentist stuff happen at all ever. Medic and Spy decide to fix this, and the rest of the mercs react without context.

100% Crack. a bit of fluff. 

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The mercs were driving back to base after another (relatively) successful mission. Sniper drove with Engie in Shotgun and the rest of the crew resting in the back. 

  Scout tentatively checked his teeth with his tongue, brow pressed in worry. He’d been feeling an ache in his mouth for weeks but it was growing sharp. It was starting to interfere with work. He’d screwed up way more than usual on this contract and everyone knew it. He just couldn’t concentrate with this freakin’ pain!

  More importantly, however, his pain was also affecting Spy’s ability to concentrate. The constant smacking and gashing and groaning was driving him insane. 

  “Pour l'amour de Dieu. Scout, will you shut ze hell up?”

  “Why don’t you shut the hell—AHHH! ” He screamed as a bump caused his teeth to bash together, sending a horrific jolt of pain through his jaw. 

  Everyone in the van shot up, weapons drawn. At least, everyone but Demo and Pyro, both of whom were thankfully still passed out in the corner. The mercenaries probably wouldn’t have survived if either of them panic-pressed any buttons. 

  “Y’all alright back there?” Engie asked.

  “What in the great flag’s name what that?” Soldier demanded at the same time. 

  “Yeah, I just got uh… bit of a bruise,” Scout shrugged casually, failing to hide his nervous shame. 

  Sniper chuckled from the front, “Wuss.”

  “Hmm.” Medic leaned over to stare at Scout. His freaky beady eyes glinted behind his glasses, but he didn’t do anything else.

  Scout awkwardly turned back around and kept his tongue between his teeth the rest of the ride.  

  ——

  The next morning:

  Scout was awoken by a quick rapping at his door. He groaned, falling out of bed face first. The polite knocking continued at the same pace. 

  “OKAY, I’M COMING!” He growled. He pulled himself to his feet and blindly smacked his nightstand until he felt his bottle of Ibuprofen. He popped open the lid and downed four with a half-empty can of bonk he’d left out. Energized and assured the pain in his mouth would subside, he shuffled toward the door and creaked it open. 

  Medic’s imposing figure peered down at him, grinning. 

  “JESUS!” Scout jumped back. 

  Unfazed, Medic stepped into his room. “Hello, kleiner Freund,” he said in his usual chipper tone, circling Scout. “How are ve today?

  “Uh, fine.” Scout turned alongside the circling doctor, trying to keep eye contact as Medic observed every angle of him. “So, what’s up, exactly? Why are you here?”

  “Oh, apologies! I am here to take care of that ache you were complaining about yesterday.”

  Scout froze. “Ah… that. Nope! No, no need. Thanks, pal, but I really feel—EEP!”

  Medic’s hand shot out and grabbed Scout by the jaw. He pressed Scout’s mouth open and peered inside at his teeth. “Just as I suspected.”

  “Uhat?”

  “You have been expiring pain in your mouth for a while now, ja?”

  “Uoah!” Scout shoved himself away, getting the gloves out of his mouth. “I mean: no! Why—haha—what makes you even think that?”

  Medic placed a hand on his chin, looking pensively upwards. “Vell, I thought it was strange. I healed everyone with my medigun before we left. That ought to have cured any remaining wounds, bruises, or strains you had from ze fight, so it must be a reassuring issue that started again afterward. Also, Spy has been complaining about your mouth sounds.”

  “That smelly French rat,” Scout cursed. “But, he’s wrong. And you’re wrong! Sorry, doc, but I don’t have any cavities or nothin’. My teeth are my best feature. I care for them perfectly.”

  “You do!” Medic beamed. “Even just from this quick examination, I can tell that your teeth are pristine. No, you don’t have any cavities.”

  “Phew.” Scout relaxed in euphoric relief.

  “I would have cured it with my medigun if it were an infection like that,” Medic continued. “Your wisdom teeth are just overgrowing their stay! Worry not, I can remove them—”

  “Oh, fuck no!” Scout yelped. He jumped past the medic and took off as fast as he could. 

  “Huh. Interesting reaction,” Medic shrugged to himself, watching the boy disappear over the horizon.

  —

  “Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, NOPE!” Scout repeated as he tore through the base, dying to get as far away from that Freaky Von Frankenstein as fast as possible. 

  In his panic, he ducked into the place he figured he was least likely to be caught: Spy’s room. He slammed the heavy door behind him and slunk against it, his chest puffing in and out like crazy as he tried to catch his breath. Not from running—he could run much further than that and still have enough wind to heckle—but rather from his fear. 

  “Scout, what are you doing... uh…” The cold blade of Spy’s knife spurred such intense joy that Scout shot forward and wrapped his arms around the man before he was even visible. Spy decloaked and stood there, absolutely unsure of what to do next. He waited for a moment, looking around, and then carefully tapped Scout on the back. “Scout?”

  “Ah, sorry, man.” Scout detached himself, trying to play it off as him brushing something off Spy’s suit. 

  Spy caught his hand before it touched his precious threads again. “Explain yourself.” 

  “Right, haha, so…” Scout clapped his hands together. “I am. Hiding from Medic.”

  “Why?” 

  “Why not? The dude’s nuts!”

  Spy had to give him that, but he could tell there was something else going on.

  A polite knock at the door interrupted the two of them. “Hellooo? Scout?”

  “Aw crap, he found me!” Scout darted behind Spy. “You gotta protect me, hide me, please!”

  Spy ignored scout and opened the door. 

  Medic smiled pleasantly at the two of them, a dove now perched on his shoulder. “Archimedes, look at zat! You vere right, he IS here! I never would’ve guessed.”

  “A fucking BIRD sold me out?”

  “Quiet,” Spy scolded. “Medic, do you mind explaining to me what zis iz about?”

  “Scout is in need of a simple medical procedure. His wisdom teeth have betrayed him and must be removed. That vay his pain vill cease and he’ll stop having to make those annoying sounds all the time!”

  “NO,” Scout shouted from behind Spy. “Ain’t no way I’m letting you put your creepy tools inside my beautiful mouth.”

  “Strange,” Spy raised an eyebrow, “You’ve never had much issue with Medic’s healing methods before.”

  “Ja! And you left before I could finish telling you the best part! I can remove them almost entirely painlessly.”

  Scout glared at him suspiciously. Spy didn’t really buy it either, but he didn’t make a show of it. 

  “Vhat? I mean it! And I’d be more than happy to!”

  “Why?” Spy squinted. 

  Medic tapped his fingers together. “I mean, I am getting a very nice set of teeth out of this whole situation…”

  “Of course,” Spy rolled his eyes. “Scout, why don’t you just get this over with?”

  Medic agreed, “Surely even you aren’t that self-conscious about your mouth. This pain vill go away and your teeth vill look even better!”

  Scout couldn’t take it anymore. He burst out, “I lied, alright? I lied! My teeth aren’t my best feature (that’s obviously my amazing physique). The real reason I take such good care of my mouth is ‘cause… because…” The waiting faces of his colleagues assured him there was no way out of this. He hung his head and sucked in. “Because I’m scared of dentists.”

  There was a beat of silence, then Spy burst out laughing. 

  Scout was not amused. “No, you don’t get it. Scared doesn’t even begin to cover this. I am straight-up phobic, you got it? Do you know how many dentists’ faces I’ve beaten in just because I freaked out and lost it? A lot. A LOT.”

  “Vell, I assure you that vill not happen to me.” Medic cheerily clapped him on the back.

  “Okay…” Scout gulped, looking shakily from Spy to Medic. “Okay,” He stood up taller. “I’ll do it.” 

  ——

  About twenty minutes later:

  Demo and Soldier sat playing cards on an overturned barrel. In the distance, a faint buzzing sound grew. They both ignored it, happily focused on their game, but it continued getting sharper. 

  Pyro, who was sitting a few feet away helping Engineer with fuel, looked up and asked a muffled question. 

  “I don’t know,” Engie answered. “Sounds like a speaker is busted. I’ll check it out after this.”

  “aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Suddenly, Scout burst past. He jumped the barrel Soldier and Demo were playing on, scattering their game everywhere, and tripped straight into Pyro. 

  “Mmphh?” They asked with a tilted head, pulling Scout to his feet.

  “HE’S GONnA TAKE MY FUckIN TEEth!” Scout sobbed. 

  Engie took Scout by the shoulder. “Hold on now, son. Who’s gonna take what?”

  Right then, Medic came running up. His glasses were cracked and there was a shoe print on his face. “Vait! I haven’t even started yet!”

  Scout shrieked. He stumbled over Engie’s toolbox and rolled, taking off again as soon as he was on his feet. 

  “Sorry!” Medic called as he raced after his patient. “He’s evidently VERY dentophobic!” 

  Soldier, Engie, Pyro, and Demo were left to stare as though that cleared up anything. 

  Scout was, in all honesty, tripping absolute balls. He’d gotten as far as Medic’s lab before he decided to nope out again, but not in time to dodge the syringe Medic was sneakily placing in his back. Unfortunately, because of his fleeing, he only got enough of a dose to put him out of it and numb his physical senses, not his fear. 

  ——

  Heavy was enjoying a quiet break. Music was playing from his radio, Sasha was sitting by his side, and he had a sandwich he savored while watching the sky. Then, instead of a sandwich, he was holding Scout. Scout had crashed into him at full force—barely moving the giant of a man but shattering his momentum—and knocked the meal out of his hands.

  Heavy held Scout up by the arm so they were face to face. “Vhat’s wrong, little man?” 

  “The med… the medic…” Scout wheezed, unable to speak anymore with the effects of the anesthesia reaching his tongue. 

  “Something’s wrong with doctor?” Heavy stood up, dragging poor Scout along with him. Alarm and determination were hot on his face. 

  “HE—“ 

  *Fwwit*

  Scout slumped over onto Heavy, a dart stuck in his back. 

  [  Several meters away, Sniper and Spy breathed a sigh of relief from a tower. 

“Many thanks,” Spy said. Sniper nodded. 

After Scout had fled again, Spy went to find Sniper with another dose of the anesthesia (this time with more of a tranquilizing effect).  ]

  “Ah, zer you are!” Medic called, finally catching up with Scout. “Hi, Heavy!”

  “Doctor?” Heavy quizzically looked from the sleeping Scout, who he’d taken to holding in his arms, to the slightly ruffled Medic.

  “It’s a long story,” Medic laughed, frazzled. “Come on, I’ll explain it while I finish this surgery.”

  ——

  One week later: 

  Scout smacked his lips, fluttering open his eyes. He stretched out and ungraciously yawned while scratching the back of his head. He was so thirsty, as he always was when waking up, but hunger pains also jabbed at his stomach. Instinctively, he began to feel for the ache in his teeth, but it wasn’t there. More alarmingly, his wisdom teeth weren’t there either. 

  The previous events spurred his mind. He let it sink in, just glad he couldn’t remember any of the actual dentist parts. He shuddered just thinking about it. 

  Intent on wiping all of this from his mind, he hopped out of bed. Oddly, he was in his own room, not the chair in Medic’s lab. He grabbed some mouthwash and swished It around, amazed at how he couldn’t feel a single ounce of pain in his jaw. Weren’t these surgeries supposed to hurt like hell after?

  “Huh, guess the doc wasn’t kidding,” he said to himself. 

  His stomach grumbled. God, he was starving. He grabbed a can of bonk to quench his thirst while he searched for breakfast and tried to open his door. It didn’t budge. He frowned, jiggling the knob more to no avail. 

  “Stupid door,” he murmured. “Let me out, I wanna eat!” 

  The door didn’t listen. 

  “Alright, buddy. You asked for this.” Scout walked back to his bed and pulled out his bat. With one well-placed swing, he knocked the handle off entirely. The dumb plank of wood still wouldn’t open, so he took a few more swings at its hinges. He’d get someone to fix it later. For now, he just wanted out. 

  After a while, he finally managed to push the door out of its frame. He rolled his shoulders and stepped happily outside… only to be greeted by two sentries aimed right at him. 

  “AUGH!” He fell back inside, hiding behind his wall. “Yo, what the fuck?”

  “Mey! Mees Mawake!” Pyro’s muffled voice called out. 

  Scout heard some hushed shouting and shuffling footsteps. He peeked his head outside to see the whole team surrounding his doorstep. Weapons were drawn and hesitance/caution was drawn on everyone’s faces in thick lines.

  “Uh… guys?” Scout called. “This is hilarious and all, but I just want some breakfast, okay?” He took a careful step outside with his hands raised. The sentries followed his movement but didn’t shoot. 

  Everyone visibly relaxed. Some audible sighs of relief were even heard from Spy and Medic. 

  “Hurray! He’s really awake!” Medic grinned, giving a thumbs up to a very tired-looking everyone else. 

  “What?” Scout was stiff and hungry, but he needed answers to this weird show first and foremost.

  Everyone turned to Medic, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Vell, I may have underestimated your fear. Just a bit.”

  “What happened?”

  “You sort of turned into a zombie…? A very powerful, frantic, mindless thing that destroyed everything it touched.  I mean, every time you woke up you went absolutely berserk! It was a fascinating reaction, really, but—“

  “Ehem,” Spy cleared his throat, glaring at Medic. 

  “Right, so, after like the twelfth time this happened and we managed to subdue you I just put you in a coma until we could be sure the effects wore fully off.”

  “Oh.” Scout blinked, not sure how to react to that. “So, I beat all you guys up?”

  “Several times, ja! You also destroyed several structures.”

  Scout grinned. His now-truly perfect teeth glinted. “Awesome. Let’s never do this again.”

  “Agreed,” Medic said. 

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #crack fic #fanfiction #scout tf2 #medic tf2 #spy tf2 #fanfic #woah those are words i wrote #medical tw #my intestines are always trying to kill me #tf2 red team #i like heavy in this #banged this out lin like an hour it's 1 am

[ghostroachtruther]

ghostroach idiots to lovers fluff comedy slowburn 700k words except ghost and roach drag soap and gaz into it kicking and screaming

soap has to hear EVERYDAY about how impressive roach's skills are, how calming he is to be around, how trustworthy he is as a soldier — which doesnt seem like much, but coming from ghost? thats basically him getting on his knees and kissing the ground roach walks on

meanwhile gaz gets notes passed to him hourly about how the lieutenant complimented the way roach shoots earlier that day, how him and ghost shared a really meaningful little glance during their latest mission, how he noticed that ghost's posture relaxes ever-so-slightly whenever he walks in the room. gaz always has ATLEAST 3 new sticky notes on his table whenever he walks away from it for a prolonged period of time

soap and gaz complain to each other about it CONSTANTLY, they're both so sick and tired of the painfully obvious pining the two have for each other, to the point where they've asked price to step in because it was genuinely starting to bother them (price didnt step in, saying he had "better things to worry about" when in reality he just wants to see how long it would take for roach and ghost to get together on their own)

they keep trying to push them to go on a date but it never works out because ghost will say "i dont see gary that way, johnny" (yes, he does.) meanwhile roach will say "i'm probably just fooling myself, simon could never view me romantically" (yes, he can.)

at this point gaz and soap have completely given up and just listen to their assigned in-love idiot talk about the other in-love idiot with a scowl on their face

#im ngl i just wrote this bcuz i wanna spread my “roach and gaz would be best friends” propaganda #also because ghostroach is so full of angst which i love but at the same time we need cute stuff guys let our boys be happy fr #side note im lowkey scared of tagging soap in this bcuz i dont wanna attract any toxic ghostsoap ppl but fuck it we ball #ghostroach #ghost x roach #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #gary roach sanderson #cod roach #not including all the normal cod tags bcuz i dont think this is important enuff for that stuff #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #just those three #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #wont include price bcuz he has like 3 words of mention here #the shooty mcshoot game #the skeleton's bug #woah he can write sometimes #large loud leo

[gessshoku]

No one ever told me how nice it was.

How nice it was to feel the cold breeze of fall blow on your face.

How nice it was to watch a movie you couldn’t see in theaters, finally it’s released on a streaming service!

How nice it is to give yourself a slice of chocolate chip banana bread just.. Because!!

This is a reminder to treat yourself, go outside today or tomorrow- whenever you get the chance. Draw something you yourself didn’t expect to imagine, let the pencil flow. Loose yourself a bit to find yourself.

Those are honestly my favorite moments of being alive.

#sometimes I grow really sad and I’m not sure why #sometimes I do know but I don’t tell anyone because they’d grow concerned. #so I draw. I don’t know what to draw. I don’t want to draw ocs or sonas or fanart of anything #I just want to draw whatever I want to tell myself. #and it’s those moments where I created pieces that even I couldn’t have imagined.. like woah.. where did I go to be able to draw that? #it’s not about the skill. it’s about the image and the creativity. the words I wrote along the paper too.. I know what they mean #and I know where they came from. it’s just wow #anyways I love fall. I love spending time alone with things I like to do. I lOVE LOVE LOOOOOVE chocolate chip banana bread

[indecisivemuch]

Cupids in Converses

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Valentine's was rolling up. You and Luke played Cupid on Percy and Annabeth. But what if playing matchmakers gave both you guys and your unspoken feelings the nudge that you guys have always needed? (Fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Warning: sort of cliché, but it's Valentines so.

Note: Valentines got me in the mood of writing something rom-com-ish. Let's just assume Luke wears red converses that looks like Maia in the show. Also, I've been incredibly busy so I kinda rushed through this one to post it on time for Valentines.

Word count: 4.1k (whoops)

February has always filled the air with some sort of sugary chemical. Everything seemed sweeter like a pink filter had been put over the world. Some may dislike the upcoming February holiday, but it was perhaps one of your favorite times of the year. 

Why? You were somehow blessed with the skills of getting people together and nudging them just enough to cross the line they needed to. So far, you have managed to help six couples get together. With Valentine’s right around the corner, the urge to play cupid grew to the point it was itching your hands.

“Well, compared to the Chimera on Monday, Medusa on Sunday, could have been a lot worse,” Percy was quickly interrupted by Annabeth. 

“Medusa was Saturday.”

“I thought Sunday?”

“No monsters on Sunday. Monday, you died in a river.” You squint your eyes at the conversation that Percy and Annabeth were having. The familiar bells rang in your head; you could practically hear them roaring at you.

“Right, so Medusa on Saturday…” 

“Woah, guys, what’s this?” Luke interrupted. “When did you turn into an old married couple?” Percy and Annabeth both grew slightly flustered at the Hermes counselor’s words. Muttering a few things here and there, the two kids quickly excused themselves and walked off from you and Luke just to avoid the topic in general. You slowly turned towards Luke and peered up at him.

“Surely…” you spoke cryptically.

“Surely what?”

“Them!” you gestured to the direction that Percy and Annabeth had headed off to. You kicked a small rock with your Converse and watched it tumble away. “Surely we can give a little nudge?” you trailed off, bumping into Luke’s shoulder.

“You’re not seriously gonna play Cupid on them, right?”

“No, I’m not…because we are,” Luke let out a loud breath, hands on his hips as he peered down at you. However, you could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 

“Sweet girl, I adore you, but why not let things run their course?” you hope he did not see the physical reaction over that nickname because, internally, your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh? And you’re telling me those six couples from before would have gotten together without me? You know I’m right about this kind of stuff. I can usually sense it. Besides, it’ll be fun, I promise.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Uhm…you get to spend time with me?” you decided to answer, grinning up at Luke when he gave you a feigned unimpressed look. “Please, besides, you and Percy are close, so it would help a lot. I already have a plan and I need your help for it.”

One look into your eyes, and Luke knew he was doomed. For some reason, you just can make him do anything you ask. Luke could feel the hands on his hips slowly slipping as he looked into your eyes.

“Fine.”

Stage 1: Get Percy to realize his feelings cause he’s blind as hell

It was midnight and everybody else was asleep except for you and Luke. The two of you were in the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The two of you were making some fortune cookies for your plan. However, there was a tiny twist to the treat you two were making. You had personally printed out a couple of prompts that you wrote yourself in hopes they would nudge Percy into realizing his feelings. 

“Really?’“Romance is in the air. What you’re looking for is right in front of you’?” Luke read out the small piece of paper that you printed. You pulled the cookies out of the oven when they were ready.

“It’s cliche and sort of obvious, but hey! It’ll work because it’s Percy I’m working with,” you quickly pulled the paper out of his hand to put it in the fortune cookie before folding it into shape and letting it cool down.

“Mhm. He’s gonna realize you’re trying to play cupid.”

“Are we talking about the same person? I doubt Percy would realize. Annabeth would, hence why I’m not trying this on her.”

Luke helped you out with a couple of other spare fortune cookies that you two intended to keep for yourselves.

“Alright, finally done,” you muttered, washing your hands. However, you were caught off guard when Luke dipped his hand in the bag of flour on the counter and smeared some on your cheek. Your mouth hung slightly at this, and you looked up at him challengingly. You wiped your hands with a hand towel, “Oh? Is that how we’re playing it?”

“...No…” Luke sheepishly replied, a grin growing on his face when he saw the look of mischief creeping on your face.

“Game on, Castellan,” with that, you dipped both of your hands in flour and chased after the tall boy, who was sprinting around the counter. You caught up with Luke and compromised by smearing flour onto the back of his shirt first. At your attack, he turned around and smeared some more across your face from your other cheek to the top of your nose. You immediately did it back to him.

“Ok, ok, I surrender,” he coughed in between quiet waves of laughter after you smeared some from his cheek down his neck, marking your last attack.

For a moment, Luke and you stood in silence, but when you two let the state of one another sink in, laughs echoed throughout the room again. Luke was able to stop his laughter first, though he was still wearing a wide grin. He washed the flour off his face and dried it with kitchen tissues as you muttered: “Oh, I wish I had a camera. I could practically blackmail you with that photo.”

“I have no doubt you would have never let me live that down,” while replying, Luke also approached you and started wiping the flour off your nose before moving to your cheeks. Your laughter slowly faded as your cheeks heated at the feeling of his hand on your skin. He was looking at you so tentatively. Callous hands - a reflection of his remarkable title as best swordsman - delicately holding your face as if you were the rarest diamond to exist.

Something about this moment felt so domestic. Luke allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that this is how it would feel like to be with you and share cute moments like these together. Luke unbeknownstly let out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in as he made eye contact with you. 

However, the moment was interrupted by another camper who yelped upon seeing you two in the kitchen. The presence of another person caused you two to spring apart. “I’m so sorry, I’ll leave,” the camper muttered, clearly abandoning their plan of stealing food and sweets in the middle of the night. Luke coughed to break the silence.

“So what’s the plan after giving it to Percy?” Luke asked, looking down at the fortune cookies before picking one up and munching on it.

“Hopefully, he’ll finally realize his feelings, and when he does…Percy will come to you, for sure.”

Stage 2: Romantic gesture

You were right, Percy came to Luke for dating advice. As you planned, Luke suggested that Percy make a flower crown for Annabeth. Hence, here the Hermes counselor was - with Percy as he picked out flowers for Annabeth.

"I'm gonna need you to guide me on this 'cause I've never made flower crowns before," Percy muttered as he picked out California Poppins, Annabeth's favorite. Luke grinned at this. He found it interesting how the young boy already knew. "Maybe you could make one for someone special too?" Percy said, his voice somewhat unsure. 

At the young boy's words, Luke froze. The first person that seemed to pop into his mind when Percy said that was you.

"I mean, might as well, right? It's for Valentine's. Maybe you could give it to someone who means a lot to you and makes you happy?" Percy spoke, though there was something instigative about his tone.

Happy. The word bounced in between the walls of Luke's mind. Once again, the first thing that flashed in his head was you. Then, a surge of images came running from memories of you two. He almost could not remember happiness before you. A warm feeling embedded in his chest as he pictured your smile. Just seeing you happy seemed to do it for him, like you could spread happiness to him by just looking at him. You were like the first glimmer of daylight after a cold night. He subconsciously smiled at that thought.

You have always made him feel loved, even though he knew you were probably doing it platonically. However, he would gladly take any form of love that he could receive from you. Every day, waking up and knowing he had you in his life was good enough for him. Maybe he should try giving you more hints. Maybe you'll finally see it. Perhaps Percy was right with the flower crown idea. 

“Uhm, sure,” with that, Luke decided to take some of your favorite flowers into his hand and went to a nearby table, where he started guiding Percy on how to make a flower crown. However, ever so often, his mind would trail to its own thoughts whenever he focused on making this flower crown for you.

Percy watched Luke as the older boy started intensely working on his own flower crown, crafting it with so much care as if it was an artwork intended for a national museum. If Percy didn’t know better, he would think Luke was a perfectionist.

Meanwhile, you were sitting with Annabeth near the ocean where she had previously pushed Percy into the waters, leading to Poseidon claiming him. You asked, “Any plans for Valentine’s Day?” 

“No, you?”

“Nope.”

“Oh?” she replied, though you tilted your head at the tone of her voice. “I’m just surprised,” Annabeth explained as she looked out at the ocean instead of at you. “I mean…I thought you and Luke…”

“Huh?—”

“Well, I mean, you two are together all the time, and there seems to be something going on —”

“What do you mea—”

“It always seems like you two would gravitate to one another. I just assumed you two were together already—”

“We’re…just friends,” you settled on saying, though you could hear your heart beating loudly, seemingly echoing near your chest and neck. Of course, you knew you had feelings for Luke. However, you have always ruled it as a silly little crush.

“...You sure? You sound really unsure,” Annabeth challenged, making you sigh. 

“I mean, he’s really sweet, and nice…”

“Uh-huh”

“And he makes me laugh all the time…”

“That’s good,” Annabeth’s words echoed as you sunk into silence and started reflecting on who Luke was to you. He has always made you feel cared for. Out of everybody at camp, perhaps he was the one you were most comfortable with, never having to be afraid of being yourself. Almost all of your favorite memories at camp included him in them. 

You remember the night you told him about your minor fear of the darkness and how he promised to always protect you in it. In a way, since then, he has become your light. You always felt lit up when he made his way to you. Your eyes are always drawn to him like a moth to its flame. Then, it finally dawned on you how serious your feelings were. You realized how most of the time you seemed to be mindless about the existence of your heart until Luke was around because it was only then that your heart would tug or race to run you breathless. You gulped as your eyes darted around slightly. 

“I mean…maybe…” you started but snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Luke’s voice. And there it was again, the silly familiar tug your heart was doing just from his voice. “Hey…” you greeted Luke and Percy before noticing Percy with a flower crown in his hand. 

“Annabeth, can I speak to you privately?” Annabeth stood up and gestured for Percy to lead the way, presumably somewhere, so the young boy could give her the flower crown and ask her out on Valentine’s Day. You remained seated, still pondering at your feelings and wondering when they had exponentially grown that much. 

“I actually have something for you as well,” you finally looked up at Luke when he said this. You noticed he had his hands behind his back. Something about the way he looked now seemed so shy and timid, which was unlike the outgoing and confident boy you always knew.

Your mouth fell agape when he pulled out a flower crown made of your favorite flower. “Luke…” you said his name and stood up when you saw the item.

However, because your eyes were on his gift, you didn’t notice the way Luke’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice calling out his name. He never thought it was anything special until November two years ago when you said his name while laughing at one of his jokes by the campfire. It was probably a moment you did not remember, but ever since then, he felt so sure that he was named so because the name sounded like it was born just for the sole purpose of being sounded from your lips. 

“I made this for you,” he muttered, though it sounded almost like a whisper. His eyes shifted to both of your Converses instead of at you. Something about this made him so nervous as if he was handing you his heart instead of a simple gift. He almost scowled at himself for acting like a boy in kindergarten, confessing to his crush.

If only Luke was looking at you because you were looking at him and the item in awe. Your cheeks flushed from his gesture. Though, you were somewhat glad he was not looking at you because you were sure one look at you right now would tell Luke exactly everything about your feelings. You were a blushing mess. “Luke, thank you so much. This is beautiful. I can’t believe you made one for me.”

You touched Luke’s hand that was holding the crown, and he almost grew an even deeper shade of red. “Put it on my head,” you instructed, and he obliged just like everything else you would ask. He was sure he must have caught a sickness or something for wanting to follow you this blindly. But you were perhaps the only one with the power to get him to do absolutely anything. Just as the crown touched your hair, you peered up at him, and the sight alone made Luke swallow nervously. 

You looked breathtaking.

And he meant this literally because Luke felt like he stopped breathing for a second. He could not look away. That was until you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him. His arms wrapped around your neck almost immediately to return the hug as if they existed to only hold you. 

However, unlike the hundreds of hugs before, this one felt different. It was as if something had shifted and was bound to unfold.

Final Stage: Valentine’s Day

Annabeth had said yes.

You were ecstatic to learn that the young girl had agreed to go on a Valentine’s date with Percy. Even though you didn’t want to intrude, you and Luke decided to just have a peep to see what Percy had planned. You were not planning to stay long. It was just a sort of reward or a way to see your plan grow into fruition. You smiled when you spot the cute picnic date near the shore.

“See, I told you the plan was going to work,” you muttered as you tiptoed up in your converses to peer at the kids through the tall bushes nearby. You almost lost balance and step onto Luke's shoes that were similar to yours, except his was red.

The boy quickly steadied you with his hand on your waist. You muttered a quick thank you before turning back to the kids, trying to ignore the blush that was slowly decorating your cheeks. But you were quickly caught off guard at the sight of Percy and Annabeth pushing a small boat off the shore and hopping on it.

“Uhm…that is not what I expected. Where are they going?” Luke looked over your shoulder when you said that. Your eyes fluttered at his warm breath hitting your neck. 

However, you noticed the two kids looking like they were in trouble and panicking as they quickly started rowing away. You turned your head towards Luke, forgetting he was very close to you. Your voice faltered as you were about to utter your next sentence. Noticing this, Luke turned to you, only causing the two of you to come face to face with little distance in between. You gulped and forced yourself not to glance down at his lips, “Do you think they’re okay? Should we follow them? I mean…what if they’re in trouble?”

Seeing the worried look on your face, Luke frowned. He deeply disliked anything that caused that kind of expression on your face. Hence, he decided to go over to the second boat there and started pushing it towards the water. “Come on,” you hopped onto the small boat with him and started rowing after Percy and Annabeth, hoping to help them from whatever trouble they were seeming to have.

After a few minutes of rowing behind them, you saw Percy and Annabeth rowing into a small tunnel. Luke and you quickly followed in, rowing your boat, only to be engulfed by darkness upon entering the tunnel.

The wind blew much harder in there, causing goosebumps on your arm as your hand gripped your oar tightly. To make matters worse, it was your most hated type of darkness - utter pitch black. Even with your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could see nothing, not even Luke. 

You were fine with darkness in familiar places like your cabin, where you knew at least there were other campers around and you were safe. You were also mostly fine with darkness where you could see as your eyes adjusted to it. But here, you were in a tunnel you’ve never been in, where there were possibly monsters that could attack you at any moment. 

You were slightly startled by the hand that softly touched yours that, unbeknownst to you, was crushing the wooden oar. You immediately recognize it was Luke’s hand from the warmth and familiar touch. He soothingly ran his thumb across your hand. His actions were proven effective at calming you down when you could feel your grip loosen around the tool.

“Breathe, sweet girl,” his words somehow made you release the breath you were subconsciously holding.

A few seconds later, the lights were turned on. You were met with one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. Lights were decorating the path throughout the tunnel. There were also plants and trees with extended branches and leaves that softly brushed past the boat Luke and you were on. 

Suddenly, you both heard a tune start playing quietly in the background, almost quiet enough to make you two think you were imagining it:

“There you see her, sitting there across the way.

She don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about her”

His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing over your knuckles even though the darkness was no longer casting over the both of you. His eyes were absorbing how you looked at that moment, embracing it. You were absolutely stunning and he was hopelessly infatuated with you. 

“And you don’t know why, but you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl.”

The lyrics made Luke subconsciously lick his lips as he pictured himself kissing you. Gods, he wondered if his heart would even survive doing so and whether anything would ever surpass getting to kiss you. Your eyes flickered to Luke's lips, and he noticed it. He also noticed how your cheeks flushed as you gulped at his actions.

“Luke.”

“Y/N,” you almost melted at the way Luke was saying your name as if it was an honor or privilege to do so. The tone he used was sweeter than any dessert you have ever had. Gods, it was as if your name was a sacred passage he lived by.

“Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do”

Indeed he was looking at you, and it felt almost like he was spellbound because he could not take his eyes off you. Right then, you could see it all - he was utterly smitten. He was giving you a soft smile. The lights decorating the tunnel shimmered in his eyes, illuminating just enough to display his pupils and how they almost completely overtook the usual dark brown color that you love. Before you knew it, he was leaning closer to you on the small boat and you mirrored his action.

“Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her…”

Just when Luke was inches from your face, he stopped. His eyes longingly stare at your lips like a long-awaited dream that was within his grasp but not quite within his grip yet. You noticed how he took a deep breath as if mustering all the drops of courage he had. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before he opened them again. 

“Can I?” he uttered only two words, but somehow, his voice conveyed enough the yearning coursing through every inch of his body. Luke gulped as he restrained himself from closing the distance and waited for your consent. 

You nodded wordlessly.

“It don’t take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl.”

Almost instantly, he caressed both sides of your face and sealed the deal.

All the glory Luke has gained throughout the years seemed trivial compared to kissing you. It almost convinced him that everything he had gone through to get here today was worth it. He hummed against your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Kissing you felt like the best gift he had ever gotten in his entire life. Luke knew he was forever screwed from the way it felt. He could not fathom the idea of his lips ever touching anyone else’s. Maybe they were made for you, but his heart and mind do not seem to oppose that idea.

You slowly slid your arms down, allowing your hands to caress his jawline and the sides of his face. However, your hands slightly jolted at the pace of his heartbeat along the side of his neck. It was as if his heart was trying to break out of his body. Your own heart started replicating the same rhythm. It had you flustered that you had such an effect on him. 

Luke broke away from the kiss breathlessly. For a second, he hated the idea of needing air to live because if he could, he would not have stopped showing you how much his lips belonged to you. His forehead leaned against yours while his hands rested on your hips. He looked at you endearingly as if he could not fathom that he just got to kiss you. You smiled at the sight of him.

“I know I’m a tad bit late, but will you be my Valentine?” he sweetly asked. 

“Of course, Luke.” Luke grinned at your answer. He drew you in for another kiss as giggles escaped your lips and echoed through the tunnel that now marked an important memory for the two of you.

You truly must be Cupid because your plan not only worked for Percy and Annabeth, but somehow also indirectly gave Luke and you the nudge you both needed.

14th February marked the day when two Cupids wearing Converses got their happy ending. 

Bonus:

“I told you that would work,” Annabeth whispered to Percy as the two hopped back onto their boat with a speaker in hand, rowing away hastily to be out of sight from the older couple.

Little did you know, Annabeth had orchestrated the whole thing, including the conversation between her and Percy about their mission in front of Luke and you. Annabeth’s plan of getting Luke and you together through playing cupid together had seemingly worked just like she had planned.

Who said you were the only cupid at Camp Half-Blood?

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

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[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

[peterparkersnose]

A Tale of Two Eyes

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: trauma, mentions of suicide, mentions of Helaemond, toxic marriage, reader has established relationship with Aemond and they have children, reader is pregnant, marriage of convenience, political marriage, arguing, undertones of an abusive relationship, selfish Aemond, hate on the Blacks (love Rhaenyra tho, just for the story themes)

a/n woah I wrote?!?! Happy birthday Ewan ily mwah

summary Aemond's son and heir just met the same fate as he did all those years ago with Lucerys.

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read time: 10 mins 11 seconds

That afternoon was a blur. Everything for Y/N has moved so quickly, yet so slowly at the same time. She had asked Ser Criston to fetch her sons, ten-year-old Daeron and six-year-old Aerion, for dinner. They had been playing out in the courtyard for a few hours. She had her three-year-old daughter, Visenya, sat and prepared to feast for the evening meal. Visenya wiggled in her seat, anxious for her brothers to join her to feast. The morning was rough on Y/N, as she was currently seven months pregnant with her fourth child with Aemond. Visenya had been a terror as well, as she has now taken to escaping her caretakers and seeking out Y/N specifically. Y/N was speaking to Visenya, trying to distract her from her hungry stomach and practicing her vowels when her mother-in-law, Alicent, came rushing into the dining room. The Dowager Queen looked frantic as she quickly came to Y/N’s side. 

“It’s Daeron,” she spoke, out of breath. “Daeron?” Y/N asked. Alicent motioned for her to follow her, as she did not want to alarm Visenya. Y/N immediately left Visenya with their nanny and followed her mother-in-law quickly down the castle halls.

“What has happened?” Y/N asked, holding her stomach with one hand and walking as fast as she possibly could. “Aegon and Viserys…” Alicent paused. The names of Rhaenyra’s last two surviving sons. They have always quarreled with her and Aemond’s sons, and now she truly feared the worst. 

“They have taken Daeron’s eye just as Lucerys did to Aemond years ago.”

Y/N abruptly stopped in the hallway, grabbing the wall for guidance.

“Excuse me?” she blinked a few times, angered at her mother-in-law for just dropping this knowledge on her. For the sake of her unborn child, she tried not to let her emotions run rampant.

For her first child, her first son, heir to the Iron Throne, and the beginning of the new Targaryen age has just been permanently maimed or killed. 

Aemond never attended dinners anymore. The man Y/N knew when they were first betrothed was long gone after the results of the dance. Aemond could barely deal with the grief of his siblings, niece, and nephews. Y/N had always speculated a secret love affair with her husband and his now-deceased sister, Helaena, but she never approached the subject. He was never the same after Helaena’s suicide. Aemond had been a broken man since, even though he was living out his dreams. He was now the King. The Blacks were defeated, only leaving Rhaenyra’s two legitimate sons with Daemon, as they were too young to understand the effects of what they were born into. Alicent took them in against her better judgment. 

So now, he sat in his office alone like he did most nights. The candlelight was dim and his wine glass was almost emptied. He sat hunched over letters, writing them to various Lords around Westeros. Aemond often filled his time with work so he could escape the horrors of his true life. It was pitch black outside and pouring now, as it had been hours since dinner was supposed to have happened. He heard a knock on his office door.

“Enter.”

He didn’t expect his wife. He straightened his posture and took off his reading magnifier from the bridge of his nose. He took in her essence. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Their marriage wasn’t ideal, but she had been essential for the success of the Greens in the dance, as their marriage brought House Targaryen together with one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. Aemond took a deep breath.

“My lady wife–”

His words got caught in his throat when he saw the blood on her hands. “Is the child all right?” 

Y/N nodded eagerly to assure him that this wasn’t a complication in her pregnancy. “What has happened? Is someone hurt?” Aemond eagerly asked, standing up from his desk and striding over to her. “I-It’s Daeron…”

“Daeron?” Aemond replied, relief running over him that the issue wasn’t the child. Yet he worried for his heir. Y/N was shaking, Aemond grabbed her hands. “You mustn't freak.” she asked of Aemond. His brows furrowed. “Calm yourself, woman. Explain what happened.” 

“Him and Aerion… got in a scuffle with Aegon and Viserys.”

Aemond’s grip tightened on Y/N’s hands. If it weren’t for the grace of her and Alicent, Aemond would have had those two children’s heads on spikes before they were old enough to realize their parents' crimes. “What prompted the fight?” he asked angrily. Y/N shrugged. “That–that is to be determined. I don’t want you to freak–”

“Do not tell me what to do. What is of Daeron?” he raised his voice to his wife. “He–”

Y/N took a deep breath and paused. She didn’t know how to approach this with her husband correctly and not trigger him from his past. Her hand moved to her husband's cheek, her fingers moving over the strap of his eyepatch slowly. “Do you remember?”

Aemond scoffed.

“Of course, I remember. You don’t need to remind me.” his lips pursed as he closed his remaining eye momentarily and sighed. “Why is this relevant?”

Y/N had no clue how to tell her husband this. She was expecting him to have the same reaction she and Queen Alicent were having. 

“Our son just met the same fate.”

Aemond pondered for a moment, then turned around and brushed Y/N’s hand off his cheek. He returned to his desk. He felt sick, he had to sit down. Aemond didn’t fully understand the situation yet but feared the worst. He was silent for a great moment, hearing a small sniffle coming from his wife brought him back to reality. “What happened to Daeron? Do you mean to tell me he’s lost his eye? Don’t tell me he’s dead…”

“He isn’t. But Viserys scraped it out like Lucerys did to yours.”

Aemond slammed his fist on the desk, making Y/N jump. Aemond seethed in anger, thoughts running rampant in his head. After a long pause, he spoke. “And did you tell my mother yet?”

“She is with him as we speak.” Y/N replied, anxiously waiting to see where her husband's emotions ran at that moment. “Where is Aerion? Is he harmed?” he asked of his spare, who could likely become his heir at any moment. “Aerion is fine just… traumatized. He tried to go after Viserys but Criston pulled him away when he got to the scene.”

Aemond seethed, then suddenly threw his wine goblet to the wall. It smashed and scared Y/N. “Aemond–”

“Send Daeron to my mother’s chambers. Tell her I’ll be along shortly, I have letters to write.”

He didn’t even look up at his wife as he put his spectacle back on. 

“What?” Y/N held her stomach with one hand, the other on her hip. She was confused. “You’re returning to your work?” She didn’t even get another word in before Aemond snapped. “Send Daeron to my mother's room at once!”

She was utterly shocked. How could he? Work? His son needed his father. The only person who could relate and help Daeron through this terrible time in his life… and Aemond chose to work? “Your son needs you!” 

Aemond growled. “I’ll tend to him later. He’s going to survive, and I have work to do.”

Y/N was flabbergasted. 

“You’re the only one who can help him understand. The boy is ten and just lost his eye! That is your son!”

Y/N knew she was fighting in a losing battle. But she had to plead for her son. He had been requesting his father for some time now. Aemond abruptly stood, walking to his door. He didn’t look at her once. “If you think talking to him will do him any good, I’ll do it. I’ll write my letters and come when I can,” he mumbled. When Y/N realized this was the best she was going to get, she decided to leave. As she was exiting the door, the child kicked in her womb roughly. She groaned and Aemond looked up to her, seeing her clutching her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said coldly. He watched her exit. She wasn’t expecting another word from him. 

She could hear him before she saw him. Y/N entered Alicent’s chamber to see her son sobbing, clinging to his grandmother. Alicent brushed his hair softly with her fingers, her stare distant. Y/N could tell that Alicent had seen this story before, and she didn’t like the ending. The look of vengeance plagued the middle-aged woman's face. As Daeron heard someone enter the room, he spoke.

“Father?” Y/N’s heart simply broke then. Daeron was truly in a state of shock, he barely paid attention to anything but the throbbing sensation of the worst pain he had ever felt in his life on his face. “No, sweet boy. Your father…” Y/N caught herself. She couldn’t tell her son that his father refused to see him. No. It would simply break his heart and his spirit more than they already were broken. “I could not find him. The guards will notify him shortly when they find him.” Y/N moved to the bed, and Alicent moved so Y/N could comfort her son Daeron. Alicent gave her an honest nod and stepped into the hallway. Y/N embraced her ten-year-old in her arms, and he rested his head on the fleshy part of her arm. He was still holding a rag over his wound, so Y/N took the rag from his hand and switched it with hers so the boy’s arm wouldn’t grow tired. 

“What happened to me, mother?” Daeron spoke softly. He tried to look up at her but failed to do so. Y/N held back tears. “It wasn’t fair, my love. Viserys will pay. I will make sure of it.”

Daeron shook in her arms. “I-I’m scared.” he admitted to her. A sob finally came from the boy again, and he stopped crying when she entered the room. He was trying to stay strong for his mother. He was already showing such promising signs of a good King, even at such a young age.  “What will I do without my eye, mother? Do I still have a future, will the girls still like me? They’ll think I’m gross for sure, I just know of it–”

“My son.” Y/N cut off his rambles. “Of course not. We shall not worry about this now. You are a handsome boy, and already a great warrior.”

“But–” Daeron began again. Y/N shushed him. “No. Shh. You must remember your father has the same wound as you. And is he a great warrior?” 

Daeron nodded. “And is he married?”

Daeron nodded again. “My sweet son, my heir. Do not worry. You will be the greatest Targaryen that ever lived.” Y/N spoke. She moved closer to her son. “Don’t tell your father or siblings I said that,” Y/N whispered, managing a small smile trying to bring some humor to the boy. He desperately needed it. But it quickly faded, as the child inside of her kicked again. 

“Mother?” Daeron asked. Even in his pained state, he cared for his mother. What a good boy she had raised. “Do not worry. The babe is just wild during this time of night.” 

Y/N ran a hand over her son's bloodied hair which had now dried. She held him close until he fell asleep. Aemond never came. 

During the very early hours of that morning, Y/N had failed to find sleep. She paced her shared chambers with Aemond. He had yet to return. She grew angrier and more frustrated by the minute. And finally, as she was re-lighting the candles that should have been blown out hours ago, she heard the door of her chambers click open and then shut. She turned to her husband, who looked cowardly now, with an angered glare. “Where have you been?”

Aemond shrugged. Y/N scoffed. “Do not play this game with me right now.” Y/N approached him, he smelt of dragon sweat and the salty sea. “Did you just take Vhagar for a ride?” 

Aemond sighed. “Yes.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the angered laugh. “You’re kidding me right now.” Aemond threw his boots from his feet against the wall. “I have my own ways of managing my–”

“Your son has lost an eye. Have you no heart?!” Y/N interrupted him. Aemond seethed silently, pausing. He then threw his jacket on the back of the couch. “I will see him in the morning.” Aemond answered tiredly. Y/N stared at him in shock. “I have no words for you.” 

Aemond ignored his wife, moving to the closet. He changed into his nightly gown and his robe. He tried to get into bed, but Y/N was already sitting on the bed when he returned. “No. Not tonight.” she said sternly. Aemond scowled. “And why not?” Aemond asked with a sharp tongue. He was almost at his breaking point with her. Couldn’t she not understand his duties? His trauma from his past? How selfish of her… 

“Why not?!” Y/N yelled “Your son has just been maimed for life and you refuse to see him! What kind of father are you?” This statement set Aemond off. All the anger, hurt, and hatred boiled over within him. He tried to keep it in for the sake that he did truly love his wife, but she failed to understand him over the years like this. Aemond took a deep breath. “Don’t you get it? I have been struggling for fucking years! Do you think I want to see my son, bloodied and broken as I once was at his age? No, you daft woman! I wish to be alone. You are incessantly bothering me and I am sick and tired of it!” he lashed out at his wife. Y/N sat in bed, tensed at his words. She didn’t know how to reply. The realization that the reason Aemond didn’t visit their son sank in; he simply did not know how to. “I cannot look at the mirror of my old self in him! For Gods sakes, he already is a copy of me! Now with this…” 

Y/N took in his words. She saw him tearing up. “Aemond–” she attempted to speak. He cut her off. “I will have that child sent to the wall along with his blasted brother,” he spoke angrily. “Do not try to talk me out of it either. I am King and I have made my final choice. I have spared their lives when they should join their bastard brother Lucerys in Vhagar’s belly.” 

“But your son–” “He will live. You cannot coddle the boy. He must grow strong.”

“How could you say that?” Y/N answered. Aemond shrugged. “My father did the same, and I will follow.”

Y/N couldn’t believe her ears. Viserys was a terrible father to Aemond and his siblings, favoring Rhaenyra. “You know damn well that if Viserys still lived, he would pardon Rhaenyra’s son and blame Daeron somehow–”

“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!” Aemond snapped at her. He knew how terrible Viserys was. He knew how damaged his father had made him. But he was the man he was now because of Viserys, and he would never be the same happy little boy he was before the loss of his eye. And now that the same had just happened to his son, his heir, he couldn’t deal. Y/N watched him in horror as he turned to violence, smashing one of the vases in the room. She held her stomach, fearing her husband in his rage. After Aemond realized what he had done and how he had scared his wife, he stopped. Aemond’s yelling turned into sobs. He collapsed on his bed. Y/N warmly opened her arms to embrace him, despite being terrified of him seconds ago. Aemond clung to her and her baby bump for dear life. 

“I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…” he whimpered, burying his face in the crook of her stomach under her breast. He was shaking. Y/N was too stunned to speak, but she spoke softly. “I know.”

She was furious at her husband. But the effects of the dance had ruined him. This wouldn’t have happened twelve years ago when they wed. They both had to re-learn each other–him with his trauma, her with her dedication to being a mother and a Queen. They struggled too often. But at solemn moments like this, when Aemond calmed down, they just held each other. The truth was, they were just two scared kids in this world. Thrown into the grasp of something neither of them wanted or intended. And that is how they stayed the rest of the night–trembling in each other’s arms, afraid of what the future held for them. 

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[asonofpeter]

It's My Party

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Plus-Sized!Best Friend!Fem!Reader

Summary: It's Rafe's birthday, so he could do whatever he wants, right?

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NON-C0N/DUB-C0N, substance use, alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

A/N: Woah! Where'd this come from? I honestly have no idea, I wrote this in like three days and I love it. My first full Rafe fic? YAY! I've been kinda down so I'm glad I was able to write this! Also pictures in moodboard are my personal perceptions of how Reader looks, doesn't translate into the story besides her being a plus-size queen! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

PLEASE HEED WARNINGS BEFORE READING! I DON'T CONSENT TO THIS WORK BEING REPOSTED, COPIED OR TRANSLATED!

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s my birthday,” Rafe chuckled, leaning back on his arms on your bed. “I wanna make sure the hottest girl at the party is wearing a pretty outfit,” he said, his striking blue eyes running over your frame. 

Your mouth fell open at his comment. You stared back at yourself in the mirror, studying the outfit Rafe had gotten for you. 

It was a dainty light pink sun dress with cherries on it paired with a matching ruffled tie-up cover. It was cute, feminine, soft. 

Just like you. 

“It’s not your birthday yet, Rafe,” you shook your head with a smile, glancing at your best friend before running your hands over the cotton.

“But it will be,” he replied. “So what do you think?” He referred back to the outfit. He had stood up by then, stalking over to you so that his front brushed with your back. The heat of him radiating onto your skin. 

The heat between your legs grew, but you forced it away. Shaking your head clear of any possibilities, you glanced in the mirror to look your best friend in the eyes. 

His intense stare was already on you.

“I love the outfit, but I don’t know about it making me the hottest girl at the party,” you snorted before walking away from the mirror to grab your clothes to change back into. You felt him roll his eyes at your statement but you ignored it as you turned back around to face him.

“You’re already the hottest girl, so that won’t be a problem,” he said, eyes darkening. 

This time you rolled your eyes.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You’re aware that the blonde skinny chicks are going to be throwing themselves at you, right? You won’t even notice I’m there,” you blew out a breath.

While you were comfortable in your own skin, loving your stomach rolls, stretch marks, and flabby skin—you also knew that you weren’t society's beauty standard. So it always confused you when Rafe flirted with you.

He would call you hot one minute and the next you’re seeing a blonde skinny girl walk out of his room with her clothes disheveled.

Still, he was just your best friend and you’re sure he only meant it for a fun laugh. He was never serious. 

As you were about to go into your bathroom, leaving the conversation, you felt a firm hand wrap around your arm.

“Why would I pay attention to those girls when I have you?” He questioned, face hard as he stared at you. “It’s my party and if I say you’re gonna be the hottest girl there, then you’re going to be the hottest girl there,” he squeezed you slightly. 

You exhaled sharply, dropping your gaze as you felt your cheeks flush once more. Sometimes you wondered if Rafe was truly attracted to you or if it was all a big lie just to get in your pants. “Okay, didn’t know it was a big deal,” you ripped your arm away from his grip. 

You also wondered if that curiosity was the reason you knew you’d never want to explore a relationship with him. Curiosity killed the cat and what you have with Rafe now is more than perfect for you to be wandering on a side of regret.

“Just wanted to make it known,” he shrugged, stepping back. “So do you like the outfit?” He asked.

Your face softened as you smiled. “Of course, I love it,” you emphasized, earning a smile from him. You closed the bathroom door behind you leaving him in your room.

Rafe had come over just like any other day. You expected you’d be driving to the club like always but today he had a bag from your favorite store in his hand. His smile brightened at the way your face lit up at the sight of it. 

You assumed it was another piece of jewelry or a handbag he made a habit of buying you. But no, it was an outfit this time around. And it was actually your size. Part of you wondered how he guessed so accurately but then you realized you weren’t giving him enough credit. 

He had bought you a cute outfit for a special occasion, and you were happy. 

“Are we still going to the country club? I’ve been craving their strawberry-mango smoothie,” you stated as you walked out of the bathroom, knowing the fruity drink had been on your mind since you had it well over two weeks ago. 

“We could do whatever you want,” he grinned.

~

There were few things in life Rafe enjoyed. And his birthday was one of them.

It was the one day out of the year that was about him. The one day out of the year when Sarah wasn’t the favorite. The one day out of the year that his dad didn’t look at him with disappointment or disapproval. It was the one day out of the year that he was celebrated just for existing. 

Most importantly, you would go all out. Planning him the perfect day to make him feel extra special. He doesn’t think he’d have any other person do that for him.

The thought brought a smile to his face and it only grew when you opened the door, greeting him immediately.

“Happy birthday!” You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face in the crook of his neck. 

He wrapped his arms around you, enjoying the smell of your perfume.

“Mr. 21,” you smirked, pulling away. “You feel old?” You joked.

“Not yet,” he reached up to push a piece of hair out of your face. “You look beautiful as always,” he complimented, loving the way you grew flustered. He raked his gaze over your body, taking in each curve, craving to touch the softness of your body, but he noticed a big thing was missing. “Where’s the outfit?” He questioned. 

“It’s in here,” you held up the bag in your hand. “That’s my party outfit, but we’re going golfing and I don’t want to sweat in it,” you explained. 

“I was gonna say,” he smirked before nodding towards his truck, implying it was time to go.

“Have some faith in me, Rafe,” you gazed at him, your eyes sending him a look he couldn’t decipher but his mind told him what he wanted to believe. 

He chuckled in response as he opened the door for you. 

“I have all my faith in you”.

Rafe knew it was the right thing to put all his faith in you. No one ever cared for him more than you, loved him more than you, treated him with respect more than you. You were safe, warm, and reliable. 

He glanced over as you watched the scenery pass by. You had your hands folded neatly in your lap, your skirt stretching over your thick thighs he craved to have wrapped around his waist or his head. 

You were goddamn gorgeous and the thought of you created an unquenchable thirst. Hell, he’s been thirsty since he realized he was attracted to you back in high school. But you were so fucking oblivious to his flirtatious remarks that you’ve never been more than best friends.

Curling his fingers around the steering wheel, he pushed the thought to the back of his head. Focusing on the road.

You arrived at the club shortly later, your water bottle in hand as you made it to the golf carts. You had one job today—sit pretty and cheer Rafe on.

Turning in your seat to face the course, you waved at the two men waiting on Rafe. They waved back before greeting the man of honor. Soon they started their game, Rafe’s name leaving your lips every time he hit the ball.

You didn’t understand the sport, found it rather boring. But it was his birthday so you faked your way through it with the biggest smile on your face. It wasn’t until you were done reapplying your sunscreen that he called your name.

Lifting your head to find him at the bottom of the short hill, he waved you over. You met him and the boys there, a puzzled look on your face.

“It’s the last hole, why don’t you give it a shot?” He grinned, eyes shielded from his sunglasses but you could still feel his intense gaze. 

Sticking your sunglasses in your hair, you squinted to where the flag was. “I don’t know how to play,” you stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, you guys are having fun, I’m just the cheerleader,” you puffed out a small laugh.

“It’s my birthday, c’mon,” Rafe tipped his head. “It’ll be fun,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you”.

You let out a soft breath, caving in. “Just this once,” you pointed. You stepped in front of Rafe’s welcoming stance, allowing him to envelope his arms around you. 

He showed you where to place your hands and position your fingers, his hands on top of yours. Almost every inch of him was pressed against you—his hands rested on your forearms, his chest against your back, and his front pressing against your ass. 

You gulped as the feeling made you hot before you attempted to ignore the proximity but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. And when he swung the club, following through, you smelled the masculine scent of his cologne, your knees buckling.

“Atta girl,” he grinned, stepping away to watch as the ball landed close to the hole.

“Damn, Y/N,” Kelce chuckled. 

“You should join us for the full game next time,” Topper smirked.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, guys, but I’m sitting out any future games,” you smiled. 

“You just need a little more convincing,” Rafe slid his arm around your shoulders. 

The four of you began heading back to the carts. Top and Kelce were in front while you and Rafe stayed behind.

“How’s your birthday so far?” 

“It’s more than perfect”.

~

“Wow,” Rafe smirked, watching as you walked out of his bathroom, now changed into the outfit he had specifically picked out for you. He reached for your hand, raising it in the air so you could spin. “You’re incredible,” he breathed out, in a complete daze.

“Rafe,” you dragged, avoiding his gaze as the heat grew on your face. “Thanks for the outfit, it’s really nice,” you played with the sleeves of the cropped cardigan. “But it was really expensive, I-,” you began, but he raised a hand.

“You’ll find a way to repay me,” he finished your thought, his blue eyes darkening. “But right now, we’re gonna celebrate my birthday,” he pointed over his shoulder towards the door where the party was starting.

With your hand in his, you nodded, letting him pull you along. 

You met up with Kelce and Top in the kitchen, everyone wishing Rafe a happy birthday as you passed. You thanked Kelce as he handed you a cup of water. The night was still young so you had enough time to catch up with the rest of the partygoers.

Leaning against the counter, you listened to the guys' conversation, droning in and out of it when parts became boring. It wasn’t until you spotted a few girls making their way toward the group, that a smile appeared on your face when you figured they came for Rafe.

While you held some feelings for Rafe, all you wanted was for him to settle down with a nice girl. One you could maybe be friends with too. It was a little fantasy you had.

“I love your dress, Y/N,” one of the girls complimented, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

The three Kook girls were standing in front of you and Rafe. You were a bit shocked that they acknowledged you first, but you welcomed their kindness.

“Thanks,” you rolled your lips together in a smile. “Your earrings are so cute,” you gestured to the gold hoops she had. 

She hummed before her attention turned to Rafe. “Happy birthday, Rafe,” she brushed her hand along his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Me and a few of my friends are gonna head into the pool if you wanna join,” she batted her lashes.

“Maybe later,” he pressed his lips together in a smile. “I’m with my friend right now,” he slid his arm over your shoulders.

You furrowed your brows, glancing at him like he was insane for turning down her offer. “He’s kidding,” you butted in. “You guys have fun,” you pressed a hand on his back, urging him closer to the girl.

“Awesome!” She beamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the patio.

Rafe glanced back at you with a look you couldn’t decipher but as he noticed the smile on your lips he only turned back around, shaking his head and chuckling. 

You knew he’d thank you later just as Kelce and Topper did when the other two girls dragged them along to the pool as well. You grabbed your water from the counter before weaving through the house. Just as you were about to go outside for some fresh air, you bumped into someone.

“Shit, my bad,” they apologized, placing a hand on your arm. “You okay?”

You gazed up to see a very handsome guy—tall, with dark eyes, dark hair, and dimples that were so kissable. 

“Yeah,” you shook your head, a little dazed by his beauty. “I’m fine,” you reassured. Many guys on the island were attractive enough to catch your eye, but this guy was something else.

“Can I get you a drink? Since I spilled yours,” he offered and that's when you noticed your cup was on the floor.

“Sure,” you beamed. “It was just water though,” you added with a shrug.

“A water for the lady then,” he grinned. 

You followed him back into the kitchen where he got you a new cup. He had asked if you were heading outside so you nodded as he grabbed your hand, leading you past the pool where you saw Rafe hanging out with the girl from before. 

A smile fell on your face, glad to see him have fun before you stopped at a bench under a tree in the yard. 

“I’ve never seen you around the island,” you told the guy, smoothing out the skirt of your dress before sitting down. 

“I’m visiting my cousin, he brought me along,” he answered. “What about you? You live here?” He gestured to the house.

“Oh, no” you snickered. “My best friend lives here, it’s his party,” you explained. You glanced back at those brown eyes, chewing on your lip as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. There was a new feeling in your stomach tonight, far from basic attraction—there was more. 

But you couldn’t pinpoint it. Still, the longer you talked to this guy, the more you felt it.

“I was struggling to stand up on that board, that wave was huge!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands. 

You hid your laugh with your hand, doubling over as he told his story. “You’re kidding?! How did you make it?” 

“Pure luck and ambition,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “But I also learned maybe there’s a reason you shouldn’t surf during a thunderstorm,” he joked.

You agreed. “I’m glad you lived to tell the tale,” you reached over to touch his arm, gazing at him through your lashes.

His eyes flicked over your frame before he hummed out in agreement. “Me too”. 

Silence engulfed you for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped and only you and him were in existence. Letting the feeling in your tummy guide you, you leaned in. 

He followed, reaching over to place a hand on your waist and soon his lips were on yours. Your hand reached up to thread through his hair, deepening the kiss. 

You kissed for what felt like hours but in reality, it was only minutes. It was a soft and innocent kiss, but it felt so intense, so hot. You were fully making out with a stranger at a party and all you could worry about was the heating sensation igniting in your heart.

Unsure of it, you still didn’t want it to stop, unfortunately, it did.

“Watch out!” You heard Rafe scream as a ball flew over your head and bounced off the tree trunk. You yelped, heart racing at the thought that it could’ve hit you square in the face. Immediately, you saw Rafe jog over towards you. 

He was in his swim trunks, chest bare, and water dripping down his abs. 

You licked your lips unconsciously, the familiar feeling burning between your legs but you pushed it aside when you focused your attention back on the guy, making sure he was okay and he placed a hand on your knee in response.

“You okay, Y/N?” Rafe caught up to you. “Didn’t see you until the ball slipped from my hands,” he chuckled, running a hand over his head.

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you reassured.

“Didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” he cleared his throat, sending a glance to the guy.

“This is,” you placed your hand on top of his that was resting on your knee. You paused, realizing you didn’t know his name.

“Eric,” he answered with a smile. 

“Eric,” you repeated, unable to control your growing smile. You liked his name. Turning back to Rafe, you chose to ignore the frown on his face.

“Happy birthday, man,” Eric turned to Rafe. “Sick party,” he smiled and you grinned between him and Rafe. 

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N threw it for me,” Rafe said, his eyes flicking to yours before they rested back on the hand that was on your knee.

“No way, you have a talent,” he squeezed your knee and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You shrugged bashfully and you narrowly missed the snort that left Rafe. 

“I was about to head back inside,” Rafe pointed towards the house. “We were gonna get a few drinks,” he trailed.

“Okay, have fun,” you said. “I’m gonna chill out here with Eric,” you added, leaning into his side. You also chose to ignore the way his jaw clenched.

“Okay, sounds good,” he pressed his lips together in a smile before he made his way back.

Once he was out of your eyesight, you turned back to Eric, threading your fingers through his hair and resuming what you were doing before.

~

Rafe didn’t want to leave you tonight, especially on his birthday. But you had practically pushed him into the girl’s awaiting hands. He didn’t understand why you were so happy to do that, didn’t you see how more perfect you’d be in her place? 

Was he not obvious?

As he stared back at you, the smile adorning your lips, he knew the answer. Which is why he turned back around, allowing the girl to lead him to the pool. 

He tried to have a fun time, jumping in the pool with her. He could admit that she was attractive but nothing compared to you.

As he, the girl, Kelce, and her friend had a chicken fight, his mind continued to wander to where you might be. 

Kelce and Top were in the pool with him, meaning you were alone. You could’ve sat in one of the lounge chairs, enjoying the game, but when he glanced over, you weren’t there. The thought of you alone in the house irked him, what if someone spikes your drink or makes you uncomfortable?

Your laugh answered his prayers but another question came to mind, who was making you laugh?

He was about to jump out of the pool when the girl stopped him, handing him a shot of something while she pressed her boobs against him. He chuckled, taking the shot from her. He was distracted for a moment but then he heard your laugh again. 

This time he exited the pool, leaving the girl dumbfounded. It didn’t take long to find you but he wasn’t expecting you to be so far from the party, alone, with a guy.

He inhaled sharply. 

There was no way, right? He’s been drinking all night, his mind was painting a picture he didn’t want to see. But then the sight of you leaning in to kiss the guy, his hand sliding over your waist and yours fingering through his hair made that anger grow. 

To his side a few guys were kicking a ball around, without another thought, he grabbed it, throwing it in your direction. He knew it’d miss you but he still shouted out your name before he went running in your direction.

You pulled away from the guy, your eyes going wide as the ball hit the tree over your head. 

He checked on you, hoping the incident would make you open your eyes and realize you shouldn’t be spending the night with a stranger on your best friend’s birthday. But that’s not what you had done at all.

Instead, you snuggled up to the guy “Eric”, letting him keep his hand on your knee, and telling Rafe to have fun.

He swallowed down the jealousy, forcing a smile before making his way back to the house. The thought of you outside with him made his blood boil. Even more so when he snorted up a line in the kitchen a few moments later.

The white powder was the second thing that could calm him besides you. Still, he preferred you.

“Eric,” Kelce said the name in thought. “I don’t know an Eric,” he shrugged. 

“I mean look at her man, she seems to like him well enough,” Topper said, glancing at the way you were staring at the dude.

Wiping his nose, Rafe sent him a look. 

There you were, busting out in laughter again at something. “I don’t trust him,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes locked on you as you giggled behind your hand. 

When had you ever laughed like that towards him before? When had you ever been so focused on a guy other than him? 

“That’s for her to decide,” Kelce laughed. “And by the looks of it, she seems to trust him well enough,” he snickered behind his cup. 

Rafe grimaced, running his tongue over his teeth as Eric rubbed his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh. If he had known the short skirt he explicitly picked out for you would lead to that, he might’ve rethought the outfit entirely.

“Well I don’t, it’s my party, I can decide who’s attending and who’s not,” his gaze darkened and his friends sent him a look.

“Hey, man, Y/N’s having a great time. Are you sure you want to do that?” Topper asked, aware of what Rafe was implying.

“I know what I said,” he stated before he began walking towards you. He heard Topper mutter under his breath but he paid no attention to it.

“Oh, hi,” you turned to face your best friend who appeared in front of you. “Back so sudden?” You asked, gazing behind him where the house was still active. 

“Yeah, I was thinking it was time to head back inside,” he said. “It’s getting kinda cold,” he added.

“I’m fine,” you dismissed. “Do you need me for something or-” You were cut off by him.

“Nah, I just think it’s time for us to head back inside, it’s late,” he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I said I was fine here, Rafe,” you said his name but he didn’t like the way you said it. 

He narrowed his gaze, running a hand over his mouth as he contemplated. “Get inside, Y/N,” he opted to say. The look on your face told him what you were thinking. “I mean it”.

“She said she’s fine,” Eric stood up, blocking Rafe from you. 

Rafe placed his hands on his hips, dropping his head down as he let out a chuckle. “I don’t remember asking you,” he jutted a finger into Eric’s chest. “Actually, I don’t remember inviting you to my party,” he grinned.

You stood behind Eric, frowning as you stared at your best friend. Even under the moonlight, you could see how blown out his eyes were. The knowledge didn’t settle with you. So you stepped around Eric, grabbing hold of Rafe’s arm to prevent anything from escalating.

“C’mon, Rafe, I’ll go,” you sighed.

He relaxed, smiling down at the hand that was intertwined with his and the other on his forearm. He glanced back up at Eric, sending him a look of victory. 

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Eric directed to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you blew out a breath. “It’s best if you go, Eric,” you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes and Rafe couldn’t help but grow angry at that. You shouldn’t be crying over a boy you met a couple of hours ago. With your statement though, Eric left. 

Rafe led you back into the house and he couldn’t help the feeling of pride swell as you clung to his arm.

You, on the other hand, tried to keep a smile on your face but you couldn’t feel the pang in your heart at what you missed out on. Why did Rafe need you back in the house? You wondered.

“C’mon, drink up, it’ll take your mind off of him,” Rafe handed you a cup with some type of liquor in it.

You sent him a look and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s my birthday,” he encouraged. “I want my best friend to be having fun too,” he grinned, pushing the cup into your hand.

You pressed your lips together. “Alright,” you sighed, giving in for the third time today. The bitter taste landed on your tongue and you cringed as it burned down your throat.

Rafe chuckled beside you, quickly pouring you another. “See, you’re having fun already”.

The longer the party went on, the more drinks you had. You weren’t drunk but you could feel the buzz. Reaching for a few of the snacks on the counter, you hoped you’d be able to sober up but Rafe had another idea.

“Let’s head up, yeah?”

You nodded, reaching for his hand as you began making your way up the stairs. You were still down about Eric, but you knew it was better than dealing with Rafe punching the life out of him. You didn’t enjoy his violent tendencies, especially when the white substance made it worse, but you tried to push past it, noting the good qualities he had.

He was loyal, smart, and confident.

Sometimes you wish that was enough for you.

You brushed past him as he opened his bedroom door for you. You found your bag on his bed, searching for his gift deciding now would be a good time to give it to him. Even though you were slightly pissed at him, he was still your best friend and it was his birthday.

He smiled at you when you sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you so he could sit. 

“Happy birthday,” you grinned, passing him the small box, and your shoulders pressed together. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he raised a brow but he took it from you nonetheless.

“Shh, just open it,” you laughed, watching as he did.

His gaze softened at the gold Rolex. He hummed out in delight, thanking you in the process.

“There’s an inscription,” you pointed at the expensive watch. 

He turned the watch over to find that there was. His thumb traced over the words you picked out.

Rafe, you’re worthy of everything. Love, Y/N.

His heart swelled at the sentence. He wasn’t often told he was worthy of anything so for you to say he was meant it all. “Thank you, Y/N,” he swallowed.

You could tell he appreciated the sentiment so you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Anytime for you, Rafe,” you smiled, gazing into his eyes. “What does the birthday boy want to do now? I’m sure the girls are waiting for you to rejoin them in the pool,” you smirked, standing up and walking over to the window. 

Part of you wished that Eric was still outside, but he was long gone. The other part of you already accepted the loss, knowing something worse could've come from it if Rafe had escalated things.

Which in the past, he’s done many times.

You turned back around to face your best friend.

“Nah,” he said after a pause. “I kinda wanna stay up here with you,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s much fun when the party is downstairs,” you pointed towards the window.

“Who says we can’t have a party of our own?” He smirked, holding a small bag in his hand.

“By all means, enjoy yourself, Rafe,” you chuckled. 

“It won’t be fun if you’re not doing it”.

“Rafe,” you warned. 

“C’mon, it’s my birthday,” he said.

“Just this once,” you rolled your eyes, deciding you could indulge for one night.

He smirked, standing up and guiding you to his desk. He lined one up for you, instructing you how to do it. 

You cringed at the feeling, moving from the seat and walking back to the bed as you rubbed your nose.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he found his spot next to you, laying back on his bed. He folded his arms behind his head and you couldn’t help but peek at his lower abdomen that became exposed from his shirt riding up. “This is probably the best birthday I’ve had,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, why’s that?” You decided to humor him.

He sat up, leaning in close so his chest pressed against your shoulder. “I got the hottest girl in my room, wearing the most beautiful dress,” he sucked in a breath, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. 

Your face grew hot and you gulped. “You could have a hotter girl in here if you didn’t chase Eric away,” you bit, unsure why you said it.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re still sad about that?” 

“I’m just confused,” you breathed out. “I was having a good time with a cute guy, is that so wrong?” You asked.

“Yes,” he stated and your jaw went slack. 

“You’re kidding,” you laughed, shaking your head. 

“It’s your best friend’s birthday and instead of hanging out with him you’re kissing a dude you don’t even know?” He spoke with his hands, his movements becoming erratic and that had you worried. 

“Rafe, I spent the whole day with you, you were hanging out with that girl earlier, what happened to her? She was cute!” You exclaimed.

He stood up, walked over to the window and he ran a hand over his face. He was pacing back and forth in front of you as you shifted on the bed.

“You think I care about her?” He stopped in front of you. “I didn’t want to go in the fucking pool with her but I did because of you!” He shouted. 

You flinched. 

“I don’t give a fuck about any other person besides you!” He yelled. “And it fucking sucks when that feeling isn’t reciprocated by my own fucking best friend,” he huffed, chest rising.

Your heart dropped and felt a sting in the back of your eyes. You didn’t realize you were crying until a sob broke through you. 

Rafe stilled and he let out a sigh. “I-,” he inhaled, pressing his fist to his head. He dropped to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “You don’t get it, okay? You’re the only one on my side, the only one who makes me feel like I’m not crazy,” he dropped his head to your thigh, his hands squeezing your sides like he was afraid you’d leave. 

“I care so fucking much about you,” you cried. “Everything I do is with you in mind,” you closed your eyes, your hands settling on his head as you began to run your nails along his buzzed hair. “This entire party, the entire day, I chose not to go to college so we could be close, I-,” you sucked in a breath, trying to decide what the point was. “I gave up on what I could have with Eric so you didn’t get upset,” you wiped your eye.

“What you could have?” He lifted his head to stare up at you. “What do you mean by that?” He leaned back. 

“Love, Rafe,” you answered.

“What about us?” He furrowed his brows. 

“Romantic love,” you elaborated. “Why do you think I’m always trying to hook you up with a nice girl?” You tipped your head to the side. 

You both stared at each other in disbelief before Rafe stood up, running his hand over his head. 

“I already told you I don’t want another girl,” he shook his head. “I want you,” he faced you again. 

You were left dumbfounded. 

“Are you honestly that blind?” He narrowed his gaze. 

This time, you stood up. “We’re friends, Rafe, nothing more!” 

He quickly stepped towards you, gripping your face in his hand firmly so you were forced to look at him. “You really think that’s all we’re meant to be?” He scoffed, flicking his gaze over you.

Your eyes were wide and you tried to push him off of you but he instead wrapped his other arm around you to keep you in place.

“Look at us, sweetheart,” he said. “If you really think all we’ll ever be is just friends, then you’re adorable,” he chuckled. “I think it’s about time you realize it was always meant to be us,” he licked his lips, eyes boring into yours. “Tonight was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned,” he began. “Tonight was the night we were supposed to make things official,” he breathed out.

“Rafe,” you clutched his wrist, trying to pry his hand off of your face. “We’re just friends,” you restated, fear spreading over your eyes.

“We’re just friends,” he mocked you and you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes. “Stop playing dumb, for once, will you?” He taunted. “Did you think we’d go our entire lives without ending up with each other? Why do you think I’ve never dated anyone seriously, or you?” He tipped his head to the side.

Your stomach dropped. Is that why all the boys who were interested in you never lasted or never got the chance to properly ask you out? 

“We get each other, no one else will. We’re from good families and you’re the only girl my father will ever approve of,” he gulped. “So let me ask you again,” he inhaled. “Did you really think we’d never be more than just friends?” 

Your heart dropped. “Is that the only reason you want us to be together? Because of money and status?” You asked, voice shaky. “Am I just some silly pawn to get your father’s approval?” You felt a tear slip down your cheek but Rafe was quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Stop asking stupid questions,” he pressed his forehead against yours. 

You shakingly let out a breath, closing your eyes as more tears slipped. The proximity and his grip had you uneased. You were confused. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N,” he rubbed his nose against yours. 

Your breath hitched as you stilled, unsure how to respond. But it seemed like he already knew the answer to his own question. His silence is what caused the sobs to rack through your body.

“Hey,” he cooed, stepping back and letting go of you. “Don’t cry,” he used his thumbs to gently wipe under your eyes. “C’mere,” he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to cry into his chest. 

It felt strange to be consoled by the man who brought tears to your eyes, yet, here you were. Still, there was nothing more comforting than Rafe, you thought.

He led you to sit back on the bed, bringing a tissue to wipe your face once you calmed down. “Cheer up, okay?” His lips curved into a smile. “It’s still my birthday, we should be celebrating”.

You nodded. “You’re right,” you inhaled, hoping this conversation would be left in the past.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple before he pinched your chin, guiding you to look up at him and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away but the angle you were in made you fear he could break your neck at the grip he had on your chin. Still, as his lips continued to move against yours, you couldn’t help but melt at his touch. 

This feeling was something you’ve been curious about for so long. The fire, desire, and passion that was enveloped in the kiss lit you up. It was intense. He loosened his grip on your chin, cradling the back of your neck as you moved your lips against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned, but that was the wake-up call you needed. 

You quickly shoved him away, getting off the bed and creating some distance between the two of you. “You can’t do that!” You pressed your fingers to your lips and you still felt him there.

He stood up, stalking closer to you. With each step, you took one back. “What am I gonna have to do to get you to understand that I can?” He reached for you and he was fast, pulling you against him once more.

He was strong, you’ll give him credit for that and it was scary how you didn’t realize it before.

“Rafe,” you exhaled, turning your head away, feeling the intense presence of his stare.

“Am I gonna have to fuck you?” He hummed. 

Your eyes widened and you struggled to remove yourself from him again.

“I think I’m gonna have to fuck you to get it into your pretty head,” he chuckled, squeezing you tight so you’d stop moving. 

“No,” you shook your head, hands pressing against his biceps. “Rafe, please,” you pleaded.

“Oh, I love it when you beg,” he smirked. “But fine,” he loosened his grip on you. “Give me one night,” he proposed. “One night to show you it’s always meant to be this way, us,” he elaborated.

You dropped your gaze, blanking out as you contemplated. But he took your silence for an answer, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. You gasped, pulling away from him but instead, he pushed you back against the bed.

Crawling further up the bed to get away from him, you didn’t miss the way he looked at you like you were some prey he was getting ready to devour. He chuckled as he forced himself between your thighs, his hands slipping underneath your skirt and hooking around your panties.

It felt like such an out-of-body experience, your legs moving as he slid them off them, your thighs pressed against his shoulders as he laid before your cunt.

“We’d be so good together, sweetheart,” he said, hands kneading the soft flesh of your wonderfully thick thighs. “And I can make you feel just as good,” he said before he dipped his head down and licked a long stripe against your folds.

Your back arched at the feeling. You scratched your nails along his buzzed hair, a moan erupting from you as his tongue flicked around your sensitive bud. The feeling of his chuckle against you made you shudder and you felt embarrassed that he was finding your reaction amusing. 

“Just relax, don’t think too much about it,” he stared up at you before he licked another long stripe. 

You whined, squeezing your thighs around his head in hopes of getting him to stop but it was fruitless. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his focus on your clit as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking until you were a moaning mess beneath him.

Your imagination only took you so far when you thought about this. What it would be like when it would happen if it would ever happen–which you already decided it wouldn’t. But you were wrong about it all. It felt amazing, it was happening on his birthday, and it would happen.

But was it right? Did you want this? Your body was telling you yes but your brain was saying no. Rafe wasn’t the man you wanted to end up with, the man you wanted to have children with. But it seems like he made those choices for you and he was proving so with his tongue.

Staring up at the ceiling, you allowed your hands to rest at your sides, your chest heaving with each breath as you felt the pressure between your legs build. As your mind begged for release, it pushed all your confusing thoughts aside, allowing you to fall over the edge.

You gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came down from your high. 

Rafe licked up your wetness before kissing around your sensitive skin, nipping at your thigh. He pushed the skirt of your dress up, exposing more of your flesh, granting him the desire to kiss every inch as he made his way up your body.

Trying to process what had happened, you felt him unbutton the one button that held your cardigan in place. It took all your strength to swat his hand away.

“Rafe,” you tried to push him away but he didn’t budge. 

“What is it? What’s so wrong about this?” He asked, stopping his movements and holding himself up above you. “Are you going to tell me you never thought about us?” He dipped his head down, whispering against your ear. “Is it me?” He pulled his shirt over his head, a smile appearing on his face. “Because I see the way you look at me and I don’t think it’s me,” he smirked, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. 

The way you rubbed your thighs together and trailed your hand down his abs told him what you were thinking. Of course, you found him attractive, he was a Cameron and the Kook Prince, and he was athletic, muscular, and tall. 

What wasn’t there to like?

“It’s definitely not me,” he chuckled. 

“I can’t,” you forced yourself to say.

“Why not?” 

You didn’t answer so he kissed you. 

“You know how you said you want to repay me for this pretty dress?” He said in between kisses. 

Your breath hitched in response, knowing when you said that. 

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You glanced up at him before he urged you to slide off the bed to kneel in front of him. You knew it’d just be one night, he did say that after all, so you figured you’d get this one night over.

He stood in front of you, ridding himself of his clothes. He was naked in front of you and you felt your face heat up at the sight of his aching cock.

“Open,” he directed.

You bit on your lip, hesitantly holding your hands against your chest before you did as you were told and he rested the tip on your tongue, you instinctively wrapped your lips around him, one of your hands reaching up to wrap around the base of his dick.

Glancing up at him, you decided to move, the feel of his length pushing past your lips was interesting. It was strange that he was your best friend but at the same time, you pressed your thighs together for some friction.

You tried to take things slow but he wasn’t patient, instead, he pressed a hand to the back of your head, forcing the rest of himself down your throat. You gagged, feeling his balls press against your chin and he chuckled above you.

“You’re so adorable,” he smirked as he pulled back slightly before he pushed himself in again.

You reacted the same way, this time tears formed in your eyes. Your saliva pooled out of your mouth and you tried to swallow which earned a moan from him. His hands gripped your head, holding you in place as he began to fuck your mouth, the sound of your gagging filling the room mixed with his groans shouldn’t be making you wet but it was.

Pressing your hands against his thighs, you tried to push away, hoping to breathe through your mouth but he kept you there.

“Just relax,” he encouraged, moaning when you swallowed again, pressing your tongue against him. “You’re doing so good,” he groaned.

Digging your nails into his skin, he hissed and with one more thrust, you felt as he came down your throat, your face scrunching as you attempted to swallow it. He finally pulled away, leaving you to gasp for air followed by a fit of coughs. Your hands were pressed against your chest as you heaved.

He grabbed your face with his hand, pressing his lips against yours. The force of his hand on your jaw urged you to stand, his other hand framing the other side of your face as he deepened the kiss. You placed your hands on his arms, feeling weak and he was your only support.

His tongue slipped past your lips and he groaned at your taste. You felt lightheaded but thankfully he sat back on the bed, pulling you into his lap. He moved away from your lips, allowing you to glance up at the ceiling, your hands on his broad shoulders as you caught your breath.

Your eyes closed when he sucked on the skin behind your ear, one of your hands running up the back of his neck, your fingers curling over the soft buzz of his hair.

He undid the button of your cardigan, slipping it off your body and throwing it on the floor somewhere. Then he reached to the side where the zipper sat and undid it as well. He slid the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, pushing the fabric down to release your breasts.

The cold air hit your nipples, causing them to harden. He moaned at the sight, his hands cupping each in one, squeezing them, and rolling your hardened buds between his fingers.

You arched your back, pressing your chest further into his touch. You felt him lean down, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking gently. You felt hot to the touch, your nails running along his body wherever you wanted. 

Shifting in his lap, you felt him poke at you, his tip brushing with your clit and you shivered.

He switched to the other, doing the same and earning another trail of moans from you. He let it go with a pop, kissing back up your neck and along your jaw. “See how good we are together? Most friends aren’t even compatible, but we are,” he breathed against you. 

You stayed quiet but at this point, he wasn’t looking for an answer, this is how it was always supposed to go.

He guided the dress over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room before he moved you to lay on the bed, your head resting against the pillows. You allowed him to pry your legs open, your hands at your sides as you watched him settle between your thighs.

Realizing he didn’t have a condom on, you opened your mouth. “I’m not on birth control,” you stopped him.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow,” he grinned.

You hesitantly let go before you rested back on the bed, nodding slightly.

He lined himself up at your entrance, his hands on your thighs as he pushed your knees to your chest. Slowly, he pressed himself into you and you scratched down his forearms at the feeling. 

“Shh, relax,” he encouraged. 

You took a deep breath in, it’d been so long since you had sex, the familiar pressure building between your legs as he pushed further in. Soon, his hips were pressed against yours and you felt his balls resting against you. It was a new feeling, being connected to somebody completely bare–raw. 

It was odd. But that didn’t stop you from clenching around him to urge him to move.

“See how perfect we fit?” He asked, reeling his hips back before he snapped forward, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure flourished around you.

You whined, tracing your hand around his neck, pulling him down so his forehead was resting against yours. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he inhaled, continuing to fuck you. It was pure bliss, your thighs resting on his hips, spreading wider with each thrust, just like he always wanted. The noise of your wetness was heard in the room, the feel of your walls pulling him back in. It was so pleasurable, that he dropped his head down, running his nose along your neck. “Always been, always will,” he smiled. 

“Rafe,” you moaned, locking your legs together around his waist, your hands running down his back, your hips beginning to match each of his thrusts.

He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. “Do you see now?” He rested his forearms on either side of your head, framing your beautiful face. 

You gulped, hands resting on the curve of his back, your eyelids heavy as he fucked you deeply. 

He chuckled, knowing you were too dazed to answer. “All the times I’ve called you pretty, hot, they all went over your head, didn’t they?” He tipped his head to the side, a hiss escaping him when you squeezed around him. “Even now as I’m fucking you and your creaming around my cock, it still hasn’t stuck, has it?” His eyes shone brightly under his bedroom light, so blue they had you entranced.

That’s all you focused on as you came again, throwing your head back, your toes curling and, your nails leaving scratch marks on his back. 

Your orgasm fueled his, his body stilling against you as he came, releasing into your slick walls. You knew you’d have to worry about it tomorrow, part of you was scared for what was to come, but your body was so relaxed in the pleasure it experienced.

“This is how it was always meant to be,” he whispered, slowly pulling out of you and watching his release slip out of your cunt. “And I’m gonna fuck you until you understand,” he said and you were half-asleep that you didn’t even feel as he pushed it back in. “Thanks for the best birthday”.

~

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[me-and-your-husband]

if you lie down with me || e.w.

summary: there's one thing you and ellie don't have in common: immunity.

warnings: not beta read, swearing, blood, canon typical violence, death by suicide, ellie has concerning ideations, smut, oral, scissoring, multiple orgasms, angst!, crying during sex, arguing, probably more

word count: 6k

a/n: i know, i'm sorry for using this photo 😭 actually i'm sorry i wrote this entire thing

The end never feels like the end, does it? When you wake in the morning, the air is as fresh as the day before and the sun streams through the window at the same angle. You smile fondly at the incessant banging on your door, and at her urging tone when she tells you to get out of bed. “We have patrol,” she says, like she's said a thousand times before. What makes today any different? 

The gravel road feels the same as it crunches under your boots as she leads you to the gate. Her auburn hair shines the same in the light, the same way you've admired since you were fourteen and she had just settled in Jackson. 

You were helping out in the library, arms full of books stacked above your head. You struggled trying to keep them up with one hand and shelve them with the other. She noticed you from the corner, where she sat with a pile of beaten comics and a Walkman. “Need some help?” she asked, standing up from her spot on the ground. She took half the books from your pile and put them wherever you told her. After, when you asked her about the comics she was reading, her face lit up and she knew that you'd be a part of her life until death. Finally, someone was interested in knowing her. 

The friendly faces of the watchmen at the gate were the same as they were yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year. They waved at you and wished you good luck as you mounted your horse and rode alongside Ellie onto the trail. The way she shoved her pistol in her back pocket and slung her bow over her shoulders was always the same. The way your horse galloped evenly alongside Shimmer did not deviate from the norm. 

When she spoke up, her words were usual. 

“Look, babe. A hummingbird,” she said with glee, pointing to the frosty trees.

You smiled at her excitement. “Poor thing, it's so cold out.”

“Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember, El,” you laughed. “How could I forget?”

How could you forget? It was a humid summer afternoon, shortly after Ellie had turned sixteen. You had snuck out of Jackson to explore a creek you had found the day prior on group patrol. You so badly wanted to show Ellie, to share every part of you with her. You didn't know what to call it, but you assumed it was just because you were really good friends. 

The soft rush of the water and the gentle breeze across your skin contrasted to the beating sun plastering your hair to your skin. You and Ellie sat with your backs against a wide oak, watching minnows skip through the water. 

“Do you think animals have feelings? Like us?” Ellie thought out loud. 

You hummed, “I do, but not as complicated as ours.” 

She nodded in agreement before her eyes drifted to the source of a new sound, a gentle humming. She saw the gentle bird sucking nectar from a flower, tapping your shoulder gently and pointing. 

“Look, a hummingbird,” she whispered.

“Woah!” You beamed, “I’ve only seen them in those nature books in the library. That's so cool. Did you know the sound actually comes from its wings?” 

As you watched the hummingbird, she watched you. “It’s really pretty.”

You agreed. She said your name, but looked away from you. 

“Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

You let the words settle in the air. 

“I think I do too.”

It was the first indication that something else could happen between you and her, something less platonic than you would've thought. After that, neither of you said anything about it, confident in the fact that something more could exist in the spaces between. 

It was the same confidence you had today as you followed her through the Wyoming woods, putting your trust in her. You took the same path almost every time you went out on patrol, knowing your way around, knowing the landmarks of the area. You knew you were getting close to the danger zone when you saw your favourite tree, the one you and Ellie would lean against by the creek, telling each other secrets into the night, crossing your heart to never tell another soul. Each of you knew that the other’s soul was the only one that mattered, anyways. 

It was just over a year ago that you’d both carved your initials into that tree, reminders of that early morning on patrol bringing a smile to your face. 

You had stopped for a moment to take a short break against the tree, letting your horses get some rest. Ellie leaned up against the tree as you pet Shimmer. The sun shone despite the snow and the brisk weather, illuminating your features gently. She admired the curve of your lips and the shape of your eyes, imagining her fingers tracing your skin under lamplight late at night. You looked up at her when your name tumbled from her lips. 

“Yeah?” You said, continuing to pet Shimmer.

“I like you.”

The air stilled and your hand faltered, breath hitching. But what if she didn’t mean it like that? 

You forced a laugh. “Well, I’d hope so. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“No, I…” she struggled for the right words. “I want to be more than friends. I like you. Like…romantically. And stuff.”

She played with her fingers, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow, not meeting your gaze. 

“Ellie, look at me. Please,” you whispered. She raised her eyes to yours, but still kept her head low, not bringing it up until your hand cupped her jaw. She moved her hand on top of yours, trapping it there, wondering if it was just a dream. 

She closed her eyes tight when she saw you leaning in, praying that you weren't messing with her. When she finally felt your lips ghosting across hers, she leaned into you. Your touch was fire on her skin, leaving a red blush in its wake. She pressed your mouth to hers hungrily, never wanting this to end. 

“I like you too,” you mumbled against her lips. 

When you finally broke for air, chests heaving, you were both beaming. Ellie nervously reached into her pocket for her pocket knife, flicking it open. She held the blade against the bark of the tree, grabbing our hand and putting it on the hilt, sliding hers over top of it. 

She guided your hand as you carved your initials into the tree, trapping them inside of a heart. It was cliche, but it meant everything to you. 

It was the same tree that, a year later, you and Ellie passed on almost every patrol. The same tree that symbolized your everlasting love for each other. The same tree that stood since the dawn of your and Ellie’s time. 

You rode casually in comfortable silence until you got to the watchtower, negative memories plaguing both you and Ellie. The floorboards still held the echoes of your voices yelling, still soaked in your tears. 

Four months ago, when the rabbits were still brown and the path was clear of snow, you'd come through this watchtower to find two clickers. It caught you both off guard, as Jesse and Dina had just cleared it as safe the day before. 

Ellie, always being the hero, snuck up behind one, taking it out easily, and lunged at the other. The second one, however, pinned her to the ground, and she held it by the neck, its arms clawing hers. 

The sound of your pistol rang out as the body slumped on top of Ellie. She rolled it off and got up from the ground, chest heaving. 

“Well,” she said, brushing dirt from her jeans, “that was pretty close. Thanks.”

When you didn't respond, she turned to see you standing with your pistol still in both hands, brows furrowed as you watched the dead body of the clicker intently. She called your name. 

“What is it?”

You shook your head. 

“Come on, tell me-”

“Every fucking time, Ellie,” you said, shoving your pistol back in your pocket and turning away from her. “Why do you have to run head-first into danger like that every time?”

She didn't say anything, gaze on your back as she watched you turn back around. 

“What would I have done if you had gotten bit?” You said, voice a little watery. “Say something.”

She stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. “I don't try to, you know, it’s just…” she sighed.

“You know, Ellie, sometimes I think that I value your life more than you do.”

The words hung in the air between you two, both of you knowing that you were right. Knowing that she could've been more, done so much more, saved so many people. But she was stripped of that. So what kind of meaning could she give to her life? What did she really have to live for? Before Joel, she never really had someone she knew would care if she died. Now she had you, and she didn't know how her recklessness would affect you. Now she did. 

“Okay, you're right. I’m too reckless. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start thinking before I react,” she said, voice softening. 

You huffed, “I just worry about you, El. I don't know what I’d do without you.”

She hugged you tight, letting you nuzzle into her chest. She knew how you felt. Before you, she was hopeless. She didn't see a point in doing anything if her life couldn't be used by someone. What was it all for? Everything she'd struggled through? All she'd suffered? 

Now she knew that she was forced to experience it all so that she could end up with you. And she’d do it a million times over. 

She breathed your name. “I need to tell you something.”

You pulled away from her, “Well that's one way to start a conversation.”

She laughed nervously. “No, it's nothing bad. It's just…it might be hard to swallow.”

She gestured at an old, ratty chair. You sat and watched her intently. 

She took a deep breath, drawing it into her lungs and releasing it. “Do you remember why I got my tattoo?”

“Yeah, to cover up that chemical burn.”

“I lied,” she said. “That's not why I got the tattoo.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, silently begging her to go on. 

“When I was fourteen, I was bitten. On my arm.”

You sat back in your chair. 

“I waited and waited for my mind to go, for my body to go, for anything to happen, but it never did. So…I’m immune, or whatever,” she said, searching for a reaction. 

Seconds of silence passed. It was shattered with a laugh.

“That's a good one, Ellie. Real funny.”

“It’s true! Ask Joel. Tommy. Maria. They're the only ones who know…”

“And you expect me to believe this?”

“Just trust me. Please. It's all I ask, is for you to trust my word. Why would I lie to you about this?” She pleaded. 

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because Joel thinks it's dangerous for people to know. That's how we met, you know. He was hired to get me to the fireflies…they were going to make a cure,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end. 

“It didn't work, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Joel says they didn't need me.” Joel says. 

“Okay,” you said, making her look up at you. “I believe you. But that doesn't mean I’m fine with you running head-first into infected like that again. Just because you're…immune, doesn't mean you can't be torn apart. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, crouching in front of you and putting her hands on your thighs. “God, I love you.”

You cleared out the watchtower and made your way back to the path. This part was one of your favourites, winding through the mountains. Your horses trotted casually beside each other. 

“Okay, okay, here's one: What do you say when a chef dies?” 

“Oh god, I don't know?”

“He pasta-way!” She said, giggling before she could even say the answer. 

Her laughter was contagious, sending it bubbling through your chest. “That's so bad that it's good.”

“Come on, just admit that I’m a top-notch comedian. If the world wouldn't have ended, I’d’ve been up there with Dave Chapelle.”

“Who’s Dave Chapelle?”

“I don't actually know. Some old ass comedian Joel told me about.”

You both laughed, smiles painted across your faces. However, the giggles subsided as you felt your horse start to shake slightly. 

“Woah, Shimmer, you okay girl?” Ellie said, patting her side. 

“Beau’s shaking too.”

“Maybe they’ve got…I don't know, a cold or something? Can horses even get colds?” You shrugged. “Maybe we should let them rest for a bit.”

You agreed, dismounting your horse and planting your feet on the ground. The shaking underneath you didn’t stop. You looked at Ellie, who looked at the mountain behind you. She yelled your name as you looked behind you.

A loud, grating noise sounded as you watched the earth of the mountain loosen from its side, rocks and boulders tumbling from it, falling in your direction. 

You hurriedly mounted your horses again, kicking their ribs to get them to go. You rode as fast as you could, attempting to beat the oncoming landslide. You'd never seen one before, only heard stories and read of them in books. You were about three quarters of the way through the mountain range when the land detached from the mountain and began to slide. 

“Go, go, go!” You yelled, Ellie a few feet ahead of you as her horse was younger than Beau. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure you were still there. 

The rocks falling created a settlement of dust around you, making it increasingly harder to breathe. You finally saw the green clearing outside of the mountain range. Almost there. 

The grating noise died, and you peered behind you to see the path completely covered in rubble. A few boulders still tumbled from the mountain, or whatever was left of it. 

“Watch out!” Ellie yelled. You looked to your right, seeing a massive boulder rolling down the mountain, coming right for you. 

You acted before you could think, much like Ellie, and propelled yourself forward off your horse as the boulder hit Beau and rolled atop of his body. You landed on the ground near Ellie, propping yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the sight. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, running to Beau. His body was mangled, bones sticking out of the skin and blood painting the grass. You felt like vomiting. 

Ellie dismounted her horse, still shaking from the adrenaline, and put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to get you standing. 

“Wait,” you said, leaning back down, planting a teary kiss on Beau's muzzle. 

You stood, holding her tight. “Let's never come through here again.”

“Don't think we can, sweetheart,” she said, looking back at the obstruction. “Come on, we've gotta find a new way back home.”

She was about to help you mount Shimmer when you both froze in your tracks. A low, husky groan rung out through the air, scaring Shimmer. She ran into the clearing out of fright. 

“Shit,” Ellie breathed. 

“We’ll find her later. Come on, we have to go. It's either a bloater or a shambler, and I don't really want to stick around to find out.” 

You turned to leave when the ground shook again. You turned around, looking back at the mountain. It wasn't the mountain shaking this time. Spewing through the hole the landslide left like spiders were hundreds—if not thousands—of infected. Clickers, runners, stalkers, bloaters, shamblers. Everything. 

There was no way you were making it out of this unless you legged it now. 

In unison, you and Ellie started sprinting to your last checkpoint— the old cabin. You ran faster than you ever had before, the sounds of hungry infected hot on your heels. You couldn't feel your legs, the burning in your flesh too intense. When the cabin finally came into view, you couldn't even allow yourself a breath of relief. You and Ellie had your guns out, shooting behind you as you ran, picking off as many infected as you could. When you were close enough to the cabin, the idea hit you. You knew that the creaky boards of the cabin wouldn't hold that many infected off. You knew what you had to do. 

“Ellie, cover me!” You yelled as you slung your backpack off your shoulder and grabbed what you'd need. You grabbed an old bottle of whiskey you and Ellie had found at the watchtower and a rag. Stuffing the rag in the bottle, you lit it with your lighter. 

In the ten seconds it took you to do this, the infected crept closer and closer to you. Ellie tried picking off as many as she could, keeping them away from you. Until her magazine ran out. 

You threw the molotov in front of the hoard of infected. It exploded, creating a wall of fire between you and your death. 

Until a single clicker went at you from the side. The light of the fire flickered in your irises and cast an orange glow across your face, and you didn't even hear it creeping up amidst the roar of the flames. You didn't even hear Ellie yell your name. 

It tackled you to the ground before you could even turn your head all the way, talons scratching your arms and legs, sinking into your stomach. Its jaw was inches away from your neck, begging to gnaw on your jugular. In the struggle for your life, you couldn't even tell where you were and weren't hurt, what was bleeding and what wasn't. 

Blood gushed into your hair and eyes as you watched Ellie slice its head clean off with her pocketknife. The same one you'd carved your initials into that old oak with. 

Something inside of you rattled knowing that something could be used so innocently and yet so dangerously. 

Ellie picked you up from the ground and helped you limp into the cabin, reeds of grass tickling your wounds. When you entered, you stood in the centre of the room as she barricaded the entrances. 

“There,” she said, returning to you. You were both coming off adrenaline, suddenly feeling the ache in your bones to an indescribable extent. 

You put your hands on your knees and leaned on them, heaving a little. “Ellie. We were so close.”

She just nodded in understanding. Her eyes survey you from top to bottom. You had a scratch across your cheek, a few minor lacerations across your arms and chest, and a few on your legs. She couldn't see any bites. 

You brought your right arm up to run it shakily through your hair. That's when she saw it, brutal and bloody, painted into your skin like a brand. One that would decide your fate. Except that it had already been decided. 

The sight of the bite on your forearm turned her stomach. She blinked over and over again, hoping that she was seeing wrong. Maybe she was still coming off of adrenaline. “Your arm…” she breathed. 

“What?” You asked, confused. You looked over your left, then your right, and…oh. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. It wasn't like you'd been badly injured, still with a sliver of possibility for recovery. No, this bite sealed your fate. 

In the next day, you were going to become something Ellie had to detest. Something she had to kill. 

You felt the bile rise in your throat just in time to grab a decayed flower pot. You choked out everything in your stomach and more.

Ellie grabbed her stomach as she felt her body start to shake, that feeling creeping up her spine again. Her breath felt like it was being siphoned out of her. She needed air, but her lungs would not take any in. She hyperventilated as she threw herself back against the wall, legs giving out. 

A sweat broke out across her body, knowing that she's losing you tonight. 

Her mind shoved memories into her vision that she swore to never bring up again. 

“There're a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight…for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes…or two days. We don't give that up.”

She remembers the small, impossible slice of hope in Riley’s eyes, one that she knew was futile. Riley was her first love. She thought they were both going to die. She felt…horrible. You would be her last love, though she knew only you were fated to die. She knew she would die too. 

Your voice calling her name broke her out of her fit. One look at you wiping your face and shaking was enough to make her want to break something, anything. 

“Ellie,” you called. She stood and began pacing, running her hands over her face. “Ellie, stop it.”

“There's gotta be…there has to…we need…” she babbled, still pacing. An idea clicked, “give me your arm.”

You held out your shaking arm to your lover, expecting her to inspect the area. Instead, she took out her pocket knife and pressed the blade into her hand without any hesitation. 

“Ellie! What the fuck?!” You said, trying to stop her hand from bleeding. 

“Give me your arm,” she said firmly, a major contrast from before. When you hesitated, her hard gaze met yours. Her eyes softened when she saw the fear in your eyes. “Please,” she whispered. 

You gave her your arm and let her rub her blood into the bite. 

She took your arm and rubbed the blood into the bite knowing it wouldn’t work. 

It wouldn't work on you. 

She knew that. 

She tried anyway.

As she massaged the blood as deep into the wound as she could get, all she could think about was that she would've been able to save you if they made the cure. Her life would've had meaning, so much meaning. She would've been able to cure you from this. But she was helpless, cursed to watch you suffer. 

“Ellie,” you said, putting your hand atop hers to get her to stop and look at you. She could see in your eyes that you just needed to be close to her in that moment. She needed it too, needed to be impossibly closer as to grip into you forever. 

She buried her head into your neck and you did the same, holding your breath. For if you breathed, time would pass. If time passed, you'd be gone. 

You don't know how long you held each other like that, but it was long enough that your legs nearly collapsed with exhaustion. You were the first to speak. 

“I need you to promise me something,” you whispered. 

Ellie knew what you were going to say before the words left your mouth. 

“No-” she began pulling away from you, but you squeezed her tighter. 

“When it starts to happen…when I can feel it, I’m going to take my gun-”

“Stop it-”

“-and I’m going to go outside. You’ll know it's over-”

“-Stop-”

“-when you hear it. Just promise me you won't look.”

“Stop, please,” she begs, tears brimming in her eyes again. She takes a step back from you and turns around. 

“Promise me.”

The words get caught in her throat. Her lip trembles. “Okay.”

Outside, rain starts to fall softly, tapping against the rotting wood of the cabin. 

She breaks the new silence. “I should've been there. I should've taken my rifle out, anything-”

“El, it's not your fault. Look at me,” you say. She looks at you over her shoulder. You nearly crumble at her red eyes and wet cheeks. “Never blame yourself. You hear me?”

She just squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to all go away. 

You walk to her, putting your hands on her shoulders and leaning your forehead against her back. You tried not to look at the bite. 

“Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you give me one last good night?”

The soft pattering of the rain against the wood, trickling off the roof and into the ground. 

“Please?”

She says nothing, instead turning around and gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bloodied hands find her wet cheeks, noting that the tears haven't stopped. 

Ellie wanted to give you everything you wanted and more, and she had sworn she would from the moment she met you. If this was the last thing you ever asked from her, she would give it to you. 

But it was so unbelievably hard knowing that this time would be your last. 

She pushed you back against the wall, nearly devouring you. The salty mix of your tears and hers slipped into the kiss, but you didn't care. She moved her hand down to cup you where you wanted her.

You bucked your hips into the friction, already needing her. You began to undo your belt, but Ellie’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She said, voice gravelly. 

“Yes, El,” you said. “I don't know where I’ll be tomorrow, or…what I’ll be,” she let out a shaky breath, “but I know I want to be with you right now.”

She sniffled and nodded, getting on her knees to take your belt off. She threw it to the side, unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down along with your panties. You opened your legs wider for her.

She ran two fingers through your slit before sinking one into your hole, tongue giving kitten licks to your folds. 

You could tell that she wasn't going to be as vocal as usual. 

You couldn't really blame her. 

You whimpered as she added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, filling the air with obscene sounds. She lapped at your cunt, trying her hardest to give you what you want. 

“Ellie, don't stop,” you moaned, whimpering when she used her other arm to hold your hips down against the wall. “Almost there.”

You could feel the coil tightening inside if you quickly, your climax coming in record time. You thought for a moment that it was because of how sensitive you were in this moment. 

You moaned wantonly and grabbed her hair as you came, her tongue working on your clit and her fingers scissoring you open. 

You expected her to stop, but she kept going. In fact, she added a third finger. 

You heard her moan into your pussy, looking down to find her grinding into the floor, a wet spot forming on her jeans. She was so messy, your juices coating her face, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, rutting into nothing and moaning into your cunt. 

When the fabric of her jeans caught her clit just right, she took her mouth of your pussy, replacing it with her thumb instead, and leaned her forehead against your stomach. You came with her from the sensitivity, both of your moans filling the air, pleading for more. 

When she laid you down on a thin blanket from her backpack and undressed both of you, you noted the scared look in her eyes. The way she looked at you, drinking you in, knowing this would be your last time together. Some part of you wished that neither of you knew about the bite, that you didn't have to treat this so differently. That you could enjoy it. Enjoy your last moments together.

She threw her leg over yours, kissing you messily, yet softly, as she ground into you, folds slotting against each other. You both moaned each time your clits touched. 

As she grew closer to her climax, she buried her face into your neck. You tried to ignore the feeling of her tears trickling down and pooling at your nape. 

You came together. You moaned, but she cried out, more guttural than you'd ever heard from her. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you—!” she cried into your neck as she came. 

When you slowed down, she held you like that without words. 

“I love you too, Ellie,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the rain. 

You held each other as the sun set, through the night, and through the rain. 

The golden rays of the sun shone through the cracks in the walls and shudders, dancing across her bare body pressed into your side. Hours ago, her body had stopped shaking and her tears stopped spilling onto your chest, your hands running patterns across her skin lulling her into an exhausted sleep. 

Your eyes had never closed, however. You knew you wanted to be awake to feel it happening, to know when you were losing control over your body. For Ellie’s sake. 

The rain had stopped and the clouds were cleared. Birds sang outside and all the animals went about their day. You thought it strange that the world would continue on without you, that people will age and new ones will be born, that people will die and people will forget about you in time. Your impermanence had never struck you as hard as it did now. 

You felt the twitching in your feet first, unnoticeable at first, but is it crawled up your limbs, you knew it was happening. It happened over three or four hours, and once you felt your neck jerk the first time, you knew. 

Your blood didn't feel like your own anymore, like someone exsanguinated it and replaced it with jelly, slowing you down. Your vision wasn't gone, but you couldn't focus it on anything. It constantly sounded like you were underwater, drowning, gasping for air to no avail. 

Your eyes hardly left the woman in your arms, clinging to you even in sleep. You know she'd curse herself for falling asleep, but you were thankful for it. You were thankful that you could press a tearful kiss to her forehead before gently escaping her grasp, muffling your sobs behind your hand. You threw your shirt and jeans on quietly, dizzy, slipping your shoes on. Your world spun, your lungs burned, your head throbbed. 

You picked up your pistol, watching Ellie stir slightly in her sleep, creamy skin illuminated in the sun, her freckled face creased slightly with worry, even in sleep. You put the gun in your pocket. 

You tried, as silently as you could, to move the barricade from the door. You were thankful that she was a heavy sleeper. 

You were thankful that you didn't have to see the despair in her eyes when you said a forceful goodbye, thankful that you didn't have to convince her to let you go, thankful that your last memory of her was this, thankful that her last memory of you was bliss. 

Through your sobs, you squeezed through the door and shut it behind you, leaning your head against it, willing for this all to be a nightmare. It wasn't, because you started to feel something else take over your will. 

Before you could lose it completely, you forced yourself into a dense brush of greenery, somewhere you hoped she wouldn't look. 

You panted, sweating, trembling, as you took the pistol out of your pocket. It shook with your hand as you held it to your temple, bright eyes taking in all of the world that you could before it was gone. 

You squeezed them tightly, willing yourself to stop shaking. You conjured the image of your lover in your mind, her auburn hair, milky skin, pretty green eyes, and those familiar freckles. How could you ever forget her?

You took a breath in, and breathed out: “I love you.”

Ellie sat up in terror when she heard the sound of a single gunshot ring through the air, seeping in through the cracks of the window and underneath the door. It took her a moment to process what it was, reaching for her pistol next to her discarded clothes. When her fingertips brushed the gun, it settled in. She craned her head to look beside her, half expecting you to still be asleep. 

When she remembered what the sound of the gunshot meant, what you had made her promise, her lungs collapsed and she couldn't take any air in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heaved, clawing at her chest for any relief. It didn't come. 

She knew it never would.

When Joel got word that you and Ellie still hadn't returned from patrol, he worried that you'd gotten stuck in the landslide. He pleaded with Tommy and Jesse to go out with him to search, knowing he wouldn't be at peace without knowing what happened. 

When the two agreed, they set off on horses to clear all of the checkpoints. It took an extra day to get around the mountain range that was blocked off by rubble. 

When they only had one more checkpoint to clear, Joel got increasingly worried. If you weren't here, where were you?

When the three men got to the cabin, they held their breath as they dismounted their horses. Joel tried pushing the door open, but the barricade stopped him. It took the three of them to open the door, pushing the barricade out of the way. 

The open door shed light on the figure against the back wall covered in a thin blanket, trembling. Joel let out the breath he was holding in when he saw Ellie. She was clutching your backpack to her chest, trying to keep any remaining part of you alive, hers. 

She had hardly noticed Joel pick her up and carry her to his horse, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see the world without you in it. 

“Ellie,” Joel’s gruff voice intruded her thoughts, “where is she?”

Ellie’s words failed her. All she could do was point to her forearm, to the bite that only Joel and Tommy knew hid underneath the tattoo. 

She doesn't remember what happened after that. 

It was warmer now, the flowers blossoming and the green coming back to Jackson’s landscape. Ellie sat facing your headstone, wishing you could've seen it. Wishing she could've shown it to you. 

“It’s summer now,” she began. “We started planting these new flowers in your garden…Joel thinks you would've liked them. I think so too. They're really colourful…you know.”

She hesitated.

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or if I’m just talking to myself like a crazy person. Joel says it's good for me. I don't know if I believe him.”

She played with her hands, tracing her tattoo. 

“I wish you were still here,” she whispered. Her eyes drifted over all the flowers left by your grave from all the people who loved you. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched a pretty red hummingbird land on your grave, searching for pollen in the flowers.

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#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader angst #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #lesbian

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

#vamphrrr ask #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo oneshot #x reader #clarisse x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x female reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse x you #clarisse x reader #clarisse pjo #pjo series #pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjoverse

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 3

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I wrote this on my lunch break to squeeze another chapter out for y’all! Enjoy :)

Content Warnings - panic attacks/breakdowns

When the parade is about to start, the peacekeepers march you over to your chariot. They go to lift you onto it but you shriek, causing them to back up and aim their guns at you.

“Woah there,” Finnick states, slowly stepping between you and them. “What have I told you guys about touching her?”

“The tribute needs to be in the chariot,” one of the peacekeepers says.

“Can you uncuff her so she can pull herself up?” Finnick asks.

“No,” the peacekeeper grunts. By this point you are curled into a ball, doing your best to take deep breaths. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin your makeup.

“Hey hey hey,” Finnick says in a calm voice, crouching down to you. “I need to lift you into the chariot. It will be quick.”

You give him a slight nod as you stand up. He gets into the chariot, ensuring you can clearly see his hands the entire time. He’s probably flashed his prep team with all his moving but there’s not much he can do about it with the lack of clothes he’s wearing.

Tensing up, you let him gently lift you into the chariot. He’s careful not to touch you more than necessary. Despite basically living at your place, he always gives you plenty of personal space. However, sometimes you find yourself wishing he would stand the tiniest bit closer to you. He is your safe person, until your brain convinces you that he isn’t.

You nearly fall off the chariot as the horses lurch forward. Finnick grabs your arm to keep you upright and you go to punch him with your cuffed hands, only to remember that it’s just Finnick. You don’t want to hurt him.

“I’m sorry but you’re too pretty to be falling out of a chariot,” he whispers. You nod and do your best to wipe your tears with your hands.

The crowd booms as you enter their view with Finnick. Declarations of love for him are screamed while people shout vile words at you. Roses are thrown his direction, while you get hit with some small rocks and other hard objects. Finnick does his best to shield you but it’s no use.

You can feel him tense as the urge to protect you flairs up, but he can’t; not in front of sponsors. It’s bad enough that he’ll lose most of the sponsors once he allies with you in the arena. You both talked prior and reluctantly agreed that the best move was for him not to be overprotective in front of sponsors.

Another rock is thrown your way, this time hitting your cheek near your scar. That’s your breaking point. You can feel the heat rush to your head as your nails dig into the chariot. Finnick is panicking at this point. There’s no calming you down and you aren’t even halfway through the parade. If you make it back to the stables, he’ll have to sedate you.

You don’t remember the rest of the parade, or nearly attacking Linessa, or Finnick sedating you. What you do remember is the conversation you overhear between Gloss and Katniss as Finnick carries you to the elevator.

“So girl on fire,” Gloss says. “Though of any allies yet? Or are you and lover boy going to try to kill us alone?”

Katniss doesn’t reply but something must have tipped Gloss off to her potential allies.

“Those two?” he laughs. “Fishy and Feral? You’re dumber than I thought. Those two are sadists. They love killing people slowly, and watching the life drain from them. You’d be dead within two hours. Who knows, she might even eat you if she’s hungry. There wouldn’t even be a body left to bring back to your family.”

Finnick tenses up, having overheard their conversation as well. He carries you to the elevator and you fully pass out.

He’s sitting in your room when you wake up. His arms are covered in scratches and he looks exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to.”

He shakes his head and walks over towards your bed.

“It’s ok,” he sighs. “Everyone is fine.”

“Is Mags fine?” you ask in a panic. “He, he said…”

“What did he say?” Finnick tenses.

“If I do anything crazy he’ll kill her, and you,” you sob. “I’m sorry. I can’t control myself.”

Finnick let’s out a long sigh and rubs his temples.

“Everyone is fine,” he states. “You didn’t break down until we were back in the stables. Barely anyone saw.”

“I don’t think I should go to training,” you state. “I’m not in control.”

“The peacekeepers informed me earlier that you aren’t allowed out of your room, for training or for the interviews. They’ve allowed me in here on the condition that I carry sedative on me in case you need it,” he explains.

“Mags?” you ask and he shakes his head. She isn’t allowed to visit. Finnick goes to get more ice for your bruises and you do your best to enjoy the remaining bit of sanity you have left.

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair angst #finnick fluff #the feral one

[thebadchoicemachine]

Pauling In Blunderland 2

TF2 Alice in Wonderland AU

All Chapters • Ao3

Chapter 2/14 - That Talking Plank Of Wood Is From Texas, Apparently

“WOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!” Pauling cried in absolute delight as she rushed downward.

She had no idea how long she’d been sliding but the wind was rushing, she was heading into someplace that was probably exciting , and she was having the time of her life. 

TUNK. 

“ OW.” 

Her fun was cut short by a red and blue checkered floor and/or ceiling. Specifically, it was cut short because she slammed into the surface head-first.

She flopped onto her back, life flashing before her eyes. Amazingly, she wasn’t dead or paralyzed. Aside from the initial shock of the impact, plus some minor residual pain, she was completely fine. 

 She looked up, squinting, following the rope into the darkness. She’d been going down feet first, how did she end up on her head? 

  Pauling stumbled upright, taking in her new surroundings.

She was in a bizarre, workshop-like place. Strange machines of every shape and size cluttered the area. The only place that wasn’t lined with some kind of tool, mechanism, or contraption was the spot where she’d landed. She couldn’t tell how big the room was because there didn’t appear to be any walls, just shadows that circled the eye-straining floor. It gave off a liminal effect. 

The space was a distinctly average temperature despite all the purring motors and, though she couldn’t see anything being worked on, the sound of saws, fireballs, hammers, and various other tools rang into the air. 

The construction ambiance took an unbalanced pattern, almost like a percussion performance—almost. The whirring and banging blended into an uncanny rhythm. It wasn’t musical, but if she didn’t pay attention she’d mistake it for one. The not-quite-a-song was low and quiet, relaxing even. A little country. It gave Pauling the image of casually lounging around a campfire or breakroom. 

“Whoah there, Miss. That was quite a tumble,” a deep, clement voice echoed around her, cutting through the not-music.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She swiveled her head, trying to find the source of the voice. “So, stranger living in a weird factory under a bomb hatch, have you by any chance seen an anthropomorphic rabbit run by here? Not a furry,” she quickly clarified. “Like an actual animal person.”

“You mean Scout? Sure have. Everyone gets a load of that kid, whether they want to or not.”

“Oh, well, that’s great because I do want to. Find him, that is. I’m sorry, I can’t focus when I can’t see you. Where are you?

“Over here, missy,” the voice called again.

Pauling spun around, still unable to locate any person. 

“No, over here. Ma’am. Over HERE.”

Even with his raised voice giving her a sense of his general direction, she couldn't find him. “I don’t see anything but your machines. Can you come to me?” 

“You’re a bit touched, ain’tcha? Course I can’t! Ah, here, just head where the sentries are pointing.”

Suddenly, every machine in the room spun. Pauling jumped back as several turrets aimed themselves right at her. 

She turned around slowly, carefully tracing the direction of the pointers with her finger. They led to a solid gate-shaped piece of wood that blended into the clutter. It was also smaller than the average machine in the room, only about as high as her ribcage. 

The pattern of the wood gave it the vague outline of a simplistic face. Two oddly round knots for the eyes, a bump in the center that could be interpreted as a nose, and cracks that impersonated a mouth. 

The pane of wood was different—it wasn’t mechanical like everything else—but she still could not see the person she was talking to.

Maybe I’m meant to do something with this first? Pauling questioned, reaching down to touch one of the knots.

“Owch!” The block yelled as her finger tapped against it.  

Pauling shrieked, falling backward into a jagged pile of open toolboxes. She fumbled to straighten her glasses but her clear vision only confirmed the scene in front of her. 

The face on the wood was not a coincidental pattern of the plank. The face on the wood was a face. A moving, speaking face. The “eyes” looked more like goggles, but they moved and blinked, and they stared down at her. 

It chuckled, “What’s wrong? I ain’t that ugly.” Its voice was still amiable and calming, despite her horrified reaction. 

“I just… I just didn’t realize you were a… a… actually, I still have no idea what you are.”

“So, Scout racing around (probably causing trouble for a girl like you) ain’t no thing, but me sitting in my own workshop gets you yowling like a pig on a ham holiday?” 

Pauling thought about it. This wasn’t much weirder than anything else she’d seen today. “I see your point,” she conceded, standing up and brushing loose screws out of her hair. “Sorry for stabbing you in the eye goggles thing.”

“It’s fine, nice to have a ruckus caused by someone knew for once. I’m the Engineer. Nice to meet you, Miss…?”

“Pauling.” She instinctively held out a hand, awkwardly moving it to fix her sleeve when she realized Engineer didn’t have any hands to shake. 

“Pauling, huh? Never heard of those before. What do you do?”

“Mostly I work in ‘clean up.’ You know, fixing and preventing messes.”

“Clean up, huh? You won’t have much use for that ‘round here.”

Pauling couldn’t help but grin. “Thank God. It’s actually pretty boring.”

“In that case, I can see why you’d wanna find Scout.”

“Right!” Pauling had almost forgotten. “Which way did he go?”

“Through me.”

“Oh, uh, are you a door?” 

Engineer smiled, amused. “I’m the Engineer. I make doors, in a way, but I’d consider myself more of a wall. A chart, a dossier, if you will. The quick way in and out of most places is to ask me.” 

“In that case, can you help me find rabbit boy? Please?”

“You see that machine over there?” The turrets spun around again, this time pointed at a tiny contraption on top of one of the various larger ones. “That’s where he went.”

Pauling picked it up, squinting to examine it before placing it back down on the other machine. It wasn’t much bigger than a lego but it looked like an incredibly complicated piece of equipment. 

“How do I use it?”

“Hold on, now. You’re a bit too big for that.”

“What, is there a weight limit?” She joked. 

“Uh.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Technically. ‘Course, I wouldn’t have said it that way but, yes, there is. You really think you could fit on top of that right now? It’s no problem, though. You see that machine it was sitting on? That there’s a dispenser.”

The dispenser churned to life as he spoke, spitting out a white tablet. 

“Take that, it’ll get you where you need to go.”

Pauling took the tablet between her fingers and held it up to her eye. It was chalky, unmarked, and altogether suspicious. In her gut, she felt like she could trust Engineer, but in her head, she knew that popping pills from talking walls was a very stupid idea. 

Then again, she might already be in a hallucination. 

Pauling didn’t know why she hadn’t considered the possibility sooner. She’d already had so many weird things happen: humanoid rabbits, magical mechanic workshops in upside-down bomb hatches, and, most unbelievable of all, she’d been given a break!

“Hey, Engineer, you said this is the quickest but is there any other way out of here?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, doing the closest thing to shrugging he could. “I suppose if you started walking you might end up somewhere new eventually, but I’ve always been content with my projects here. My workshop is a big place.”

“Uh-huh.” Pauling looked around again. Just as she (kind of) expected, the rope she’d come down on was nowhere to be found. When she looked up, all she saw was the same liminal darkness that ebbed the edges of the room. “So, there’s no way I could get back, right?”

“Back where?”

“You know, my world.”

Engineer stared blankly. “I’d have to say no to that. I can’t send you somewhere I don’t know. Besides, travel anywhere outside of Blunderland ain’t really my business.” 

“Blunderland?” 

“Well, where else would we be?” He spoke gently and with a subtle humor as if she was talking nonsense.

“Yup. Okay. Copy that.”

Either this is a dream and nothing bad can happen to me, or this is real and I don’t have a choice, Pauling reasoned to herself. She held the tablet up to Engineer. “Welp, bottoms up.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She popped the tablet and swallowed it dry. 

Strangely, although she barely had it in her mouth, it was extremely flavorful. The idea of char, bread, bacon, olives, and alcohol twisted around her tongue as if she’d just eaten a large lunch. She smacked her lips, trying to tell if the taste was bad or not. 

Aside from the weird savoriness, she didn’t feel any different. She turned to ask Engineer how long it would take for the effect to set in. Rather than the short plank of wood she expected, she was met instead with an eye-to-eye view.

She faltered. “Did you get taller?” 

“Nope.”

“Then did I— Woah.” Her question was answered before she could ask it. Everything in the room suddenly rushed upward, expanding, as she saw herself shrink. 

  Pauling blinked rapidly. She rubbed and tapped her face, trying to come to her senses again. 

She was still standing upright, but it felt as though she’d blacked out. At first glance, her surroundings didn’t look different; machines ranging from giant to tiny encircled her still. They still thumped and puffed along to that odd not-rhythm. 

“Engineer?” She called into the clangor. 

His response was booming. “Up here.”

She obeyed, searching upward to find Engineer was now the size of a house compared to her. She laughed in wonder. “I shrunk!” 

“That was the idea,” Engineer beamed with a humble tint of pride. “Now, just step on the teleporter and you can be on your way.”

“Great! Where’s the teleporter?”

“It’s the first machine I showed you. That little feller.”

“You mean the one I left on the top of the dispenser?” She sheepishly asked. 

“Er, yeah. That would be the one. 

Pauling sighed. “Okay. This is fine. I’ll just have to go for an unplanned climb. Annoying, but not the end of the world.”

“Ain’t that thing like a mountain to you right now? I respect the gumption, but you could just use that little dispenser down there. No disrespect intended, ma’am,” he politely added. “I’m sure you could do it on your own if you wanted."

Pauling looked to her right, noticing a dispenser with a freshly dispensed tablet waiting. “Oh. That’ll be easier.”

She picked up the pill and took it, this time prepared for the dizzying ordeal of size-shifting. The dispenser next to her shrunk down into a miniature. She watched as Engineer also shrunk until he was back to his rib-high height—and then he was waist-high… then thigh-high… then knee-high. When she finally stopped, she could pluck him up like doll furniture. 

“Well I’ll be,” he marveled. “I should probably label the dosage on these a bit more clearly.” 

Pauling was far less casual about the over-corrective rection. “What do I do now?” 

“Right, right, sorry, I get carried away when it comes to my machines sometimes.”

“That teleporter has gotta be smaller than my fingernail at this point!”

“I don't know! You got any tweezers on you or something?”

“Actually, I might. Hold on.” 

Pauling slung the pack she had off her soldiers. She riffled through a side pocket and pulled out a little case, clicking it open to reveal a set of tools tucked neatly inside. 

“Nice. You’re my kind of person,” Engineer complimented.

“Thanks. That’s one bonus of my work, I guess. I always have to be prepared.”

She reached down and carefully lifted the dispenser, cupping her hands to ensure the teleporter wouldn’t fall. She gently lifted the teleporter with her tweezers. 

Now, how am I supposed to get the shrinking tablet? It’s like a grain of sand to me now. She wondered. Hmm. What if I just…

She put the dispenser up to her mouth and licked it. At first, all she could taste was metal like she’d put a quarter in her mouth. Then, that lunchmeats/cider flavor spread through her tongue again, and vertigo coursed through her senses again. 

  An onrush once again overtook her body and the room expanded around her. Or, rather, it expended below her as she was abruptly a few miles up in the air, free-falling and the tiniest she’d ever been. 

The teleporter grew as well, busting out of her tweezer’s grip. It was now the size of a longboard. It hovered in the air next to Pauling for a split second before it began plummeting much faster than her. 

“Ah! Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell, oh hell,” she panicked. 

Her wits took a while to catch up to her as she fell toward the gargantuan steel-filled room below. She flailed before realizing she still had a way out of this that didn’t involve her splatting onto a dispenser like a squished fly.

She gained composure (as much composure as one could while flailing in the air towards an ever-approaching doom) and straightened herself into a diving position. 

Gaining on the teleporter, she shouted to Engineer, “How does this thing work?”

“You just gotta stand on top, it’ll do the rest!” 

Pauling gave a firm and determined nod, although there was no way Engineer would be able to see her response. She stuck her arms out, stretching like rubber, but her fingertips only brushed the edge of the teleporter. 

Too short on time to risk reaching again, she dove again and fell beneath the teleporter and spread out. 

“Oof,” she spluttered as the clunky machine hit her in the chest. 

A glance from the side of her vision let her know she had about ten seconds before she turned into a stain. She wrapped her arms around the teleporter and heaved herself to the right side. The bricks on the end began to spin wildly until all she could see was a blurry circle. 

“Good luck!” She heard Engineer say just before she hit the surface and her vision went bright. 

#tf2 #engineer #miss pauling #Team Fortress 2 #tf2 au #team fortess 2 au #alice in wonderland au #fanfiction #woah those are words I wrote

[ryomens-vixen]

90s Boyfriend Toji

CW: Toji is a warning all on it's on, daddy kink, 90s Toji, mentions of drvg selling, smut, slight aftercare if you squint, hitting, etc.

Word count: 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't know babes...

Good luck 🤞

Author note: thank you @blkkizzat for the nickname I really didn't know what to call him without being cringe af, I've never wrote for Toji so I hope this is kinda good I'm not too confident in this.

90sBF Toji who loves his son so much that he bought both of them matching gold chains, you could say they're almost like twins in a way, wherever Toji goes you'll definitely see megumi following behind him like the daddy's boy that he is. 

90sBF Toji who listens to artists like Notorious B I G, Tupac, DMX, Ice Cube, Ol Dirty Bastard, Nas, Sir Mix A-lot, and Snoop Dogg. 

90sBF Toji who's street name is “T-Raw” (thanks kali.) Almost all the ladies around his hood know him by that, even those he distributes Kush to, he just got it like that. 

90sBF Toji who'll only kick it with you if his son likes you, he's the most important person in his life. If megumi doesn't like you then it's a wrap. 

90sBF Toji who sells Kush for a living along with another side hustle of his… aka slanging dick, yes this whore of a man sells dick as well. 

90sBF Toji who usually picks up single moms around the corner store from his place. 

90sBF Toji who only lets the ladies that Megumi picks come over the house. 

90sBF Toji who won't settle down with anyone unless his son Megumi likes you which doesn't normally last long. Once you do something Megumi doesn't like you better hope you can fix it before he tells Toji. 

90sBF Toji who constantly makes Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto babysit poor Megumi every time he's hauled off to jail. 

90sBF Toji who is almost always cellmates with his homeboys Shiu and Ryomen who of course nags him about whether or not he wants to see his son

90sBF Toji who's surprised by Megumi suddenly took a liking to you one day. Maybe he had mistaken you for another girl Toji use to fuck on or maybe he just thought “Woah pretty lady” and claimed you to be his new mom, but whatever his son wants, his son gets and Toji ain't arguing with that at all. 

90sBF Toji who started making you, a college student babysit little Megumi who continues to call you “mama” and you have no clue as the whether it's because Toji calls you mamas or if he genuinely thinks you're his mother, either way he's cute with an annoyingly fine ass father. 

90sBF Toji who's more into fuckin than he is romancing, but is willing to put forth the effort to keep you around more. 

90sBF Toji who leaves all his women begging for more, surprisingly he hasn't gotten anyone pregnant by now. 

90sBF Toji who constantly has to reassure you that you're the only one he's laying pipe on, he hates that you have to deal with the Plethora of heart broken obsessed women he's left behind.

 90sBF Toji who fucks you like he like he's trying to get you pregnant. “Fuck- that's some good pussy, Hah- Ngh—” 

“Fu— T.. To..ji! too much, too much!”

The more you begged him to slow down even just a little bit, the more he made it apparent that he wanted his dick in your stomach. God it felt like he was trying to break you- fucking you into the mattress. One hand on the back of your neck, the other on your frontal a fist FULL of hair mind you. It was intense. He wanted yet another orgasm out of you to cream and squirt all over him again, you needed this dick and he was going to give it to you all damn night if he had too. 

Oh did your moans and screams turn him on even more than that ‘O’ face you were making. No wonder everyone called him “T-Raw”. “Shut the fuck up, you've been teasing me with that phat pussy all damn day- Fuuughck—”  Toji said in an annoyed tone as he cocks a hand back and smacks a handprint onto your ass. 

“m'sorry daddy!”

“Nah.. Don't cry now, take this dick, take it mamas.”

Oh boy did he take you down through there, eyes in the back of your head, tongue hanging, tears forming at the corners of those pretty (e/c) eyes. What was this your fifth? Sixth Orgasm? How experienced was this man, this is what you get for fuckin with a grown man like him. There he was beating your back in, creamy white ring formed at the base of his cock from both your pussy juices and his cum fusing together, blunt in mouth. Where'd he get the blunt from? Don't know, but man was his dick good no wonder he had so many women flocking after him. The way he makes you feel it in your stomach was no joke he really knew how to fuck you right. 

90sBF Toji who didn't really fuck with college girl had you wrapped around his fingers… I mean his dick. It didn't matter where or when he wanted that pussy before your classes, after your classes, in your dorm room, his car, it didn't matter to him because he was a nasty old man. 

90sBF Toji who had you chasing behind him wondering where he was taking that dick, YOUR dick, was he gonna start slanging dick again? You didn't know but you felt just like those older women he'd Freak then leave.

90sBF Toji who'd reassure you that he wasn't fuckin anyone else by making sweet love to you. He doesn't need you acting crazy on him. I mean who else is going to watch Megumi besides Satoru and Suguru? 

90sBF Toji who gets a little annoyed when you show up blowing up on him about another woman flocking him again, he gets so annoyed that has to shut you up with cock in that tight throat of yours.

“Now tell me who the fuck do you think you're talkin to again!?” 

“Mmmf- Sowry—” 

“Can't talk with all that dick in your mouth can you, heh…” 

You did your best trying to take it all, but couldn't make it to the base of his cock without gagging and coughing. But that was nothing he couldn't fix, with a smirk on Toji's face he held your head down on his thigh and began to fuck himself into your throat. God did this nasty bitch enjoy hearing your ‘gluck gluck gluck’ sounds coming from you. This slutty man let out a deep bellowing groan at the sensation he was feeling in his groin. It was a tight, and warm feeling making his pace grow sloppier by the minute.

“Nasty ass bitch look at you , mouth full of dick fuuughck Im gonna— gonna c.. Cum-” 

Patting on his leg trying to signal him to slow down so you could breathe, if your face could visibly turn blue it would he was not letting up as he chased his own high. One strong thrust he came deep into your throat, god if he could put all that good dick in your kidneys he would. 

90sBF Toji who isn't too big on aftercare, but since he's down bad for you, then he might just indulge in it, just for you, only for you. 

90sBF Toji who after a good pounding throws a towel onto your body and praises you for taking him so well.

“Fuck, you take dick like a good lil bitch don't yah? What cat got yah tongue?”

“ since Megumi ain't trippin bout yah I guess you'll do for now .”

“How about you get cleaned up, come watch a movie with me.”

90sBF Toji who truly can't believe you're to put up with all his bullshit, even his homeboys think something's wrong with you.

90sBF Toji who hates bringing you over to Satoru and Suguru's place for boys night because it always end in a fight everytime Satoru thinks it's be funny to flirt with you.

90sBF Toji who hates that you have to remind him that you don't want him to end up in jail everytime they fight.

90sBF Toji who starts to grow a lil bit of a soft spot for you, so much that he starts to show you off to his old hoes.

90sBF Toji who randomly shows up to your college class to drop off YOUR son Megumi when Satoru and Suguru cancel on him, leaving all your homegirls to think you're a mother now.

Tags: @blkkizzat @littlemochabunni @honeeslust @gojos-thot-patrol-main @oreo-creampie @screampied(I was told to tag you) @halosdiary @connorsui (I was told to tag you) @biscuitsngravie

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

[hey-august]

March Madness Event - Winner (NSFW | Buggy X Marine!GN!Reader)

Woah woah woah, this story concludes the March Madness event!

(In case you missed it, throughout the month of March I posted polls pitting kinks against kinks. The ones that lost in the polls received short stories involving a bit of failure. The kink that won at the end of the month was slated to receive a proper story. And that's where we are now!)

I'll be honest, I did not expect this to be the winner. Then again, I should have seen it coming with how it took off in every poll it was in.

Thank you all for participating! Voting, reading, commenting, liking, reblogging - everything!!

I hope you enjoyed this event and that you enjoy this story. 🩷

Description: As a Marine, you're responsible for safely escorting the captured prisoner, Buggy the Clown. Things don't go according to plan and while the prisoner remains captured, not all of him ends up behind bars...

Teeny tiny teaser: "This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others."

Word count: ~3.4k (I don't remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long 🥴)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, marine!reader, no use of Y/N, insertion sex, bit of degradation, cockwarming (not solely intimate, but there is some eventually), misuse of devil fruit powers

“I can fuck you harder if you uncuff me,” he said through gritted teeth. “C’mon, tell me you don’t want that.” 

The teasing remark was hissed behind your ear, sending a shiver through your body. Your weak fucking body, nearly wiped of all self-restraint. A thin thread of rationality kept you tethered to a sense of preservation, but the constant pounding threatened to snap that hold.

You were responsible for locking up the prisoner - a duty you’ve fulfilled many times without issue. Over the years, your strength and cleverness helped you climb the ranks of Marines, yet this was the first time you failed to complete this responsibility. Well, you haven’t failed yet, but the more the thread frays, the more your legs shake, the more his heavy grunts fill your ears…

Your shaky hands gripped the seastone cuffed wrists wrapped around your body. Although the pirate couldn’t grip your hips the way either of you wanted, he was able to pull your body towards his as he relentlessly slammed himself in you. 

Of all the captured criminals you ever escorted, it was the goddamn clown that broke you. The pathetic clown with a face of smeared paint. Left behind by his crew. A captain who was visibly crestfallen when none of the Marines appeared impressed by his presence.

Despite his circumstances, the prisoner - Buggy the Clown - lived up to his namesake. Nearly every comment out of his mouth was a joke, often at the expense of anyone around him. The lack of laughter after each quip should add to embarrassment and pity for the clown, but you found yourself enjoying the amusement he was clearly creating for himself. It was…endearing.

As his sole escort below deck, his attention quickly turned towards you and the warm fluttery feeling you had moved lower in your body. Silence only protected you for so long before your face was too red to ignore, giving the clown encouragement to continue. Changing tactics, Buggy started spouting cheesy and overused pickup lines. Each remark said with unabashed enthusiasm added to the heat on your face.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.” “I’d like to report a crime. My breath was stolen.” “That Marine uniform doesn’t look so bad on you. But it would look better on the floor.”

Those comments were so stupid and worked so well. A few hissed retorts and threats of punishment were disarmed with a charming smile. You had no chance of winning whatever this game was. Secretly, you weren’t sure you wanted to win. There was something alluring about this pirate who tried to hide behind jokes and laughter that you wanted more of.

Arousal easily increases in potency when mixed with other feelings. For you, it was unexpected affection and the lure of degeneracy. For Buggy, you assumed it was the fear and anxiety that comes with imprisonment. Each concoction was perfectly portioned and all it took were choice words, overly-familiar touches, and curious glances for the poison to take effect.

Alone in the room, it only took seconds to pull your pants low enough to grant Buggy access. You leaned forwards, steadying yourself against the wall, while he grabbed the lower hem of your top. His thrusts were erratic and sloppy as he tried to find a decent pace. There was barely enough time for this moment of guilty indulgence and you both wanted as much from it as possible.

Bringing his bound hands overhead, Buggy pulled you close to his chest until you were wrapped in his hold. With his hands closer to your hips, he was able to move both of your bodies at a quick tempo. He was rewarded with a whine that escaped your heavy breathing.

“S’that how you like it? Hard and rough? I didn’t expect you to be so fucking filthy. Do all your prisoners get welcomed like this?”

Fuck. Why did his voice sound so good? And why did it sound better saying such degrading shit?

You shook your head and leaned into his touch, wanting to feel more. “Sh-shut up. Don’t you ever stop talking?”

“You d-don’t want that,” Buggy groaned. “I can feel your body squeeze when I talk. You like it.” His teasing was met with a delicious whimper.

Every word from his mouth had your head spinning. You wanted so much more. You wanted to taste his voice, to feel his mouth against yours, to feel his lips on your skin, but he wore that stupid face paint. You wanted his touch everywhere, for his hands to roam your body, for him to hold you tighter, but he needed to keep the cuffs on. Buggy was a Devil Fruit user. He was dangerous. And he was breaking you down.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Buggy started describing all the ways he wanted to screw you. How good you are at taking him. He wants to hear how good he makes you feel. Lost in the haze of lust, you barely remembered pulling out the key you wore on a chain and had tucked under your clothes. Your palm ached from how tightly you gripped the key while fighting against the horny instincts crowding your body.

You were so close, so achingly close. Maybe if you timed it right, it would be okay. You could minimize the danger. That makes sense, right? It could work. The wisp of rational thought faded away so softly that you didn’t miss its absence.

“Please,” was all you could get out as you unlocked the cuffs and let them fall to the floor.

It was like you released a feral animal with that decision. You didn’t realize just how much the seastone had sapped from Buggy until you felt his bruising grip as he brutally slammed his hips into yours. Even his cock seemed to get harder as it was bullied deeper in your body. He struggled to stay quiet, grunting like a wild boar as he rut into you.

You were on the edge of the precipice, ready to throw yourself over the ledge, when a horrible sound yanked you back to solid ground. A piercing siren sound filled the ship, signaling the top of the hour and a change in duties. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You needed to finish your job before anyone found out what you were doing. Who you were doing.

In a panic, you elbowed the pirate and spun around. “They’re gonna catch us,” you said with wide-eyes.

With all his blood below the belt, Buggy was already caught off-guard by the loud noise. Your rapid change from a whimpering needy thing who needed to be railed, to a Marine who wanted to follow the rules was a lot for the pirate to follow after losing the trail of his own orgasm. All he could do was struggle to pull up his pants as you shoved him into the jail cell and locked him in. Thoughts slowly returned to his head and weakness seeped back into his body as he watched you fix up your uniform before freezing.

“What the fuck did you do?” The question started as a shout before you restrained the rest of your temper.

“I wanted to make sure you come back for me,” Buggy responded with a wink. “Besides, we didn’t get to finish. I figured you could keep it warm for me until the encore.” He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, which was baggier than it should be.

“Are you fucking ser-” The rhetoric question was stopped by the throbbing in your body. 

Between your body fully accepting the rough fuck and the whirlwind of anxiety about being caught, you didn’t notice that Buggy left you with a piece of himself. Of all the things he could have done with his Devil Fruit powers in that moment, rather than doing something, anything, that could help him escape, the clown chose to part from his dick. What a fucking joke.

---

It was a sunny day with just enough of a breeze to keep the sails full and to blow away excess heat from the sun. The gentle wind helped dry the perspiration on your skin as you crossed the deck, towards the meeting room. While the air carried away some of the physical evidence, your body still burned and you chose to believe the unrelenting heat was shame. Punctual attendance was critical on the ship and you couldn’t even spare a few minutes to evict the pirate’s privates without risking a penalty.

With each step, you felt the fullness between your legs and the stretch from his girth. You couldn’t remember what it meant to walk normally. Every movement was over thought and analyzed. What felt normal made your core feel too tight against the intrusion. Longer strides had you worry that he might slip out. While it seemed unlikely (all of this was unlikely already), you worried about losing this bit of Buggy. There would be no reasonable way to explain a lone penis anywhere on the ship.

As hard as you tried to be upset with Buggy’s stupid horny decision, your body was still flooded with hormones that drowned logic and only allowed obscene thoughts to float. You were deep in a fucked up situation and you were enjoying it.

You arrived just in time for the meeting to start. It was a daily check-in where attendees would recite numbers and metrics that meant nothing to you. It was important and wholly unnecessary. The returning sheen of sweat and lingering redness on your face could be excused as the hustle needed to arrive on time and not the throbbing you felt inside. 

Settling into one of the open chairs, you couldn’t find a position that was remotely comfortable. There was minimal padding on the wood chairs and the backrests were at an awkward height that provided no support. Leaning too far one way pushed Buggy further inside and you just barely concealed the discovering gasp as a deep breath. 

Crossing your legs was a terrible idea, as it only added to the unforgiving pressure. The sensation attacked you both, as you felt the confined cock flex in its warm prison. You quickly uncrossed your legs, glad no one could see how they shook under the table.

Wicked voices began whispering to you, talking over the droning presentation at the head of the table. You couldn’t find any reprieve from what you were feeling. The only thing that made you feel better was giving in. You could afford to let your mind drift, this meeting was only to make others feel important. You had your own feelings to deal with.

Your mind wandered down to where those feelings radiated from. To the frustrating ache between your legs. Buggy was a good length, on the longer end of average, but his thickness was far more than average. Thankfully he got you so riled up earlier and all you had to suffer through was a burn that he quickly fucked away. Your body had grown accustomed to the wideness, but being held open for so long was different. Even through the uniform, you felt exposed. With each twitch from your hole as it fruitlessly tried to find some give against the occupant, you fell apart a little more. 

You shifted in the chair again, cautiously rolling your hips with the movement. Just once. And then again, under the guise of trying to get comfortable. Fuck, that did feel good. Your body shifted against Buggy’s member just right. You tensed against him, chasing that sensation, and receiving a heavy throb in response.

Your name broke through the fog you willingly got lost in. Your eyes snapped to the man standing at the head of the table.

“Is there something more important than going over these reports?” 

Maybe your movements weren’t as subtle as you thought.

“No, Sir. Just trying to get comfortable. I apologize for the distraction.” You spoke loudly, overriding the quiver hiding in your throat. 

Buggy was reacting to the jolt of tension that ran through our body. Clenched fists pressed into your knees and your toes curled in the little space available in your boots as you rode out his movement. It was incredibly frustrating and absolutely embarrassing. So why did it feel so fucking good?

---

The rest of the meeting ended without further incident. At least, as far as any of the attendees cared. For you, every action and reaction from either of your linked bodies felt like a whole new event to survive. You offered a tight lipped smile to everyone as they left the room, preferring a small audience when you attempted to use your weak legs. Luckily, horniness and adrenaline held you up and supported you out of the room.

The infirmary was a few doors down and it was around the time the doctor took a break. If you were lucky, the room would be empty and you could put an end to this. The luck was debatable when you opened the door to two pale faces. One belonged to the Marine who was on guard duty and the other belonged to the prisoner being guarded. A prisoner who offered you a small smile that matched the one painted on his face.

The guard started babbling when you entered the room. “H-he doesn’t look good, r-right? I brought him h-here, but they’re all on break. I’m wor-worried he’s gonna upch- upchu-ugh, pu- v- vom-”

“Get sick?”

The guard nodded with pursed lips, struggling to hold back the hiccups and sympathetic heaves that wracked their body. “Doesn’t seem ser-serious enough to call the med-ugh medics b-back.”

You looked at Buggy, trying to assess what was going on. Was this a ploy or was he actually ill? Were you going to get sick? 

“It doesn’t look that serious. I can stay with him. Why don’t you go lie down?” Your offer was accepted before you even finished speaking. 

The infirmary door closed, leaving you and Buggy in an awkward silence. He sat in a chair, hunched over, still giving you a weak smile.

“Are you okay? Is it bad?” You asked, concerned that his flashy self seemed to be affected. Crouching down, you brought yourself closer to his level.

“Bad,” he repeated hoarsely, leaning towards you. 

His trajectory would bring his painted forehead to the white shoulder of your uniform, so you intercepted. Pressing your head against his, you waited for Buggy to continue. 

“N-need you. Made a bad decision, need you, please.” One of his cuffed hands pawed at the empty space where his dick should be. 

With his strength and stamina taken away during imprisonment, Buggy’s self-inflicted secondary imprisonment was too much. He could feel everything - how your body continued to struggle around him, how warm you were inside, how you reacted to his involuntary cries and demands for more. It felt so fucking good, so deliriously wonderful, and downright torturous.

There was no end in sight, though. There had to be a reason you kept him inside, so even if Buggy could come, it would be followed with overstimulation that could go for who knows how long. Not to mention how upset you would probably be if you were unexpectedly full of his hot cum. 

Buggy whimpered at the thought. At imagining you full and plugged. Of his jizz dripping out and collecting in your underwear. Of you being an absolute fucking mess under your prim and pristine uniform, because of him.

“Please,” he whined again.

You pulled away and locked the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Again.”

Buggy bit his lip as you held out your hand to help him up and blubbered what sounded like, “thank you.”

You understood how he felt. So insatiable that nothing mattered more than giving into these desperate needs that aggressively grew out of desire. Giving up on everything but chasing the high, you uncuffed Buggy and undid your pants. 

This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others. You shoved his hand down your pants, letting him feel how wildly aroused you were. How much of a mess he made.

His groan was laced with delight and pain at the knowledge. His touch was everywhere, committing all of the evidence of your lust to memory. As his hand crept further, it came in contact with his base and his body jolted at the touch. This was too much.

Yanking his hand out of your pants, Buggy rushed to unbuckle his and expose where his member belonged. Following his lead, you pulled your pants down and turned around. Wary about wasting precious time, Buggy pressed his hips against yours and shuddered when his cock returned to its rightful place. It felt as if his senses increased a hundredfold now that it was back.

“M’close,” he warned, struggling to set a reliable pace. 

Honestly, he was about to explode when his hand was down your pants. But he needed this. He needed to feel you moving on his cock. To feel your body react against him. To feel you explode.

As if reading his thoughts, you grabbed his hand and pushed it down. You didn’t need much. This entire time, you didn’t need much, apparently. Just his attention on you was enough to pull you off the trail you were on. And that’s what he gave you - his enthusiastic attention. 

His hand moved fervently, following the cues your body gave. The touches that had your breaths teeter on moans, pressure that had your body clench his, sensations that increased the tension in your core.

“Uh-haah, uh-huh, just like that. K-keep going, g-gonna… You’re gonna make me c-” You were cut off as the feeling ripped through your body, sharp and electric. The words in your mouth were wiped away as you fell to the indescribable surge.

Buggy huffed as he struggled to fuck through your orgasm. Your unsaid words rung through his head - he was responsible for this. You were shaking beneath him because of what he did. Your sweet sighs of relief were for him.

“Wh-where-” Buggy could hardly stutter a question he should have asked earlier.

“Finish what you started,” you said, leaning into his touch once again.

Feeling your body melt against his, accepting his thick cock so easily, pulling him deeper - that was more than enough.

“F-fucking shit,” Buggy hissed as he came. 

The climax was nearly painful as he shot stream after stream inside your body. Feeling like the release would never end, the pirate clung to you and whimpered with each pulse. Eventually, he ran out. His hold released with a shaky sigh.

Buggy struggled with words to fill the next moment. Something about how this felt good. Maybe a thanks? But before he could decide, yet another loud sound interrupted the moment. A sound that was accompanied by a lurch that threw the pirate back. An explosion. Then came the alarms. The ship was under attack by pirates. You both rushed to fix yourselves up.

“I-I think that’s for me,” Buggy said.

You looked at him incredulously. Was this all a fucking trick?

“I want you to come with me.”

His request kept you silent. This didn’t make sense.

“I didn’t think they were coming. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. But it was fun - well, I had fun. I think you did too. We can keep having fun, unless you want to keep living this stuffy life.” Buggy spoke quickly. 

His explanation was rushed, but you could see a hint of honesty among the turmoil.

Buggy held his hand out for you to grab.

---

Life on a pirate ship was different, but also similar to life with the Marines. Useless meetings couldn’t be avoided and petty drama existed everywhere. But the spirit and passion that came with piracy was unbelievably vast. Joys flew high, parties raged hard, drinks always flowed, treasure was celebrated.

And on Buggy’s ship, there was always more. More life, more color, more light. Dumb jokes, death defying stunts, fantastic skills, and stupid decisions that managed to work out in the end.

One of your favorite things about life aboard the ship were the quiet afternoons you spent with the captain. Afternoons that were spent laying in the shared bed, your body nestled against his. Afternoons full of stories and musings. Afternoons dedicated to the two of you, which you spent slotted together in warmth and intimacy.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #gender neutral reader #hey-august march madness

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Ten

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine,

A/N: This one is an absolute doozy! Be prepared for a lot of feels people! And a scene that literally popped up in my head as I wrote this. I dunno I just wanted to include it! Please excuse any mistakes I made!

"This place is huge!"

Thats it. Those were the only words Orora could think of to describe Ba Sing Se.

Once they had crossed the Inner Wall she had felt her mouth open in amazement. Rows and rows of houses, as far as the eye could see. The chatter of more then a thousand people echoing in the air as they went about their daily lives. She had never seen so many people in one place. Not even the Northern Water Tribe had this much population.

Iroh chuckled beside her, amused by her reaction. "That is an apt description for it, my dear." They had stepped onto the platform, after making sure they had their belongings with them. They were really only small packs containing objects that had some sort of sentimental value. And money of course.

"Woah!" The young waterbender breathed as she gazed around from the raised platform they were standing on. The wind played gently with her hair, prompting her to push the strands behind her ears. Iroh stood just beside her while Zuko stood on the opposite side. He hadn't said anything the entire train ride, though she knew he had been just as amazed by the sheer magnitude of the city as she was. His eyes had widened slightly. A rather subtle movement, but then again she had started to notice everything subtle about him.

Only because of her observation of him. And not because she had stared at him out of the corner of her eyes on more then one occasion.

"Now! The first thing we should do is get some clothes. After all we are no longer refugees but citizens of Ba Sing Se." Iroh stated, leading the way down the platform with the two teenagers following after him.

"I'll have to find some work to earn money for that." Orora muttered to herself, thinking back on just how little coin she had left. Iroh turned to her, frowning. "And what makes you think I will not buy clothes for you as well my young pupil?"

She stopped short, prompting Zuko to almost walk into her. Orora ignored the glare he threw in her direction as she blinked at her smiling Master.

"Y-you..." She trailed off unable to find words. Iroh's expression turned to one Orora had seem him give Zuko when comforting him. "You are my responsibility Orora, and I care for you just as much as I do my nephew."

They were standing together, the three of them, with Iroh and Orora facing one another and Zuko standing to the side. His attention had been at a nearby weapons shop but a soft sound had him turning his head to look at Orora.

She had a tight grip on the strap of her water satchel, as if to keep her hands from trembling. But that was not what caught his attention. It was the fact that for once her icy blue eyes had a warmth to them he had never seen before. And they were swimming with tears. The soft sound he had heard, was her giving a small gasp as she tried to control her emotions.

Though she was failing at it, because even as he watched, a tear escaped her eye, sliding down her cheek.

Crying people had always been a weakness of his. He had no idea how to deal with them. Crying girls was even worse. But seeing Orora cry, at something so insignificant as his Uncle buying her clothes, had him feeling equal parts awkward and..........concerned.

Laughing softly to himself, Iroh reached out to take her still trembling hand and placed a pouch of coins in it. "Why don't you go ahead and buy your clothes my dear? I'm sure we will all benefit from having a pretty young maid such as yourself as our companion eh Zuko?" That last part was directed at him, prompting the banished prince to snap out of his stupor and stare stupidly at his Uncle.

"Wh-what?" But neither Pupil nor Master heard him as Orora quickly engulfed the old man in an embrace that reminded Iroh of the ones his son would give him as a young boy.

"Thank you...........Uncle." If he was surprised at her calling him that he did not show it. Though he did show his pleasure at being called thusly by her. "Now go buy your new clothes and do something about your hair. I shall meet you both here in two hours. And you also buy anything that catches your fancy."

"Wait! Both?" Zuko barked out. Iroh nodded. "Yes both. This city can be dangerous my boy. Especially for a young lady. And though I know she can protect herself, I would much rather she have you with her. For my peace of mind." He finished giving his nephew a look that clearly said, do not argue.

Pursing his lips, Zuko gave a small nod. Though there was no pleasure in his stance as he took his own pouch of coins from Iroh. "Enjoy yourselves then."

With a cheerful wave and a wink he was off to do his own shopping.

Zuko sighed to himself, pocketing his pouch and turning to Orora who was now tear free and already looking around at the different shops on either side of them.

Good, he preferred her tear-free.

Shaking his head, he pursed his lips before speaking.

"Come on. I think we can find a shop that sells clothes for us both." He had already started to move, prompting Orora to follow him with quick steps to catch up.

While Zuko had been of the opinion that their impromptu shopping spree would be awkward, it was anything but. Orora having never been in a city before, was flitting from one stall to the next shop. Eagerly pouring over the wares the shop keepers were selling, though she didn't buy them. Zuko was left to follow after her, trying to keep up with her surprisingly fast pace.

"Would you slow down!" He finally puffed out after loosing sight of her for a good few minutes, nearly making him panic before he had caught sight of her entering a weapons shop. She turned to look at him, a slightly apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry, I'll try to slow down but I just saw these and they reminded me of the swords you had when we met in the forest." Zuko looked to where she was pointing. And indeed it was a pair of dao swords, much like the ones that had been confiscated from him a good while ago.

Apparently there was a strict rule of no bringing weapons into Ba Sing Se. However you could buy them once you were inside.

A stupid rule really.

Still he had managed to hide the dagger Uncle had given him, but the swords had to go.

"They do look the same." He agreed with her. Before he could stop her, Orora had reached out and was lifting both of the swords from the stand and holding them out for him. "Well try them out. If its a good fit then you can buy them." She suggested giving him a small smile.

Maybe it was the fact that they were back in civilization. Or perhaps it was the interaction she had had with Iroh that had resulted in her being in a pleasant mood. Whatever it was, she had no desire to ruin it by squabbling with Zuko. Besides it wasn't that difficult to be nice to him.

Zuko glanced at her briefly, before reaching out to grasp the handle of the swords. His fingers briefly brushed against Orora's prompting them both to freeze momentarily. But he quickly shook off the feeling, turning his attention to the swords.

The weight was perfect as was the balance. Obviously they were of fine craftsmanship. Feeling that familiarity one felt when picking up a weapon they knew, Zuko swung them around to test further. After a couple more swings he stopped, seemingly satisfied.

Lifting one of the swords to eye level, he stared at the blade, watching his reflection stare back. "Well? What do you think?" Tilting the blade slightly he was able to catch a glimpse of Orora as she stood behind him.

Maybe it was the familiarity of the swords, or perhaps it was the soft yet hopeful look that he caught in Orora's expression which made him give a small nod.

"They're perfect."

                                           ————————–

The next step was finding new clothes.

And as soon as they entered the shop each teenager was whisked away by an employee. Orora was guided towards the female section of the shop, while Zuko went the opposite way.

A little annoying since he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. However he did keep a sharp ear out, in case she called out for help. He made no complaint as the shop assistant began to pull out clothes that would be perfect for someone his size. Zuko stared dismally at the various shades of browns and greens that greeted him. He missed the red, black and gold colors of his Nation. For a brief moment he wandered if he would ever get to wear them again.

The thought had a sting of bitterness running through him, prompting him to pick out the first garment the assistant showed him. And he would've bought it as it was if the Assistant hadn't insisted that he alter it to his size. Something about the shop not looking good if he sold frumpy looking clothing. It would take some time though, so Zuko marched to the entrance of the shop to sit in one of the waiting chairs.

With his arms crossed and a grumpy expression on his face, any passerby would assume he was there against his will.

While Zuko seemed to be having a miserable time, Orora was having the time of her life. She had always adored dressing up, as typically feminine as it was and while she would've preferred to dress in the blue of her Nation, she wasn't opposed to wearing green so long as it got her out of her baggy clothing. She figured she didn't have to hide the fact that she was a girl in the city so, why not go all out?

"This color would look lovely against your complexion." The assistant, who had introduced herself as Hana, placed the green fabric against her shoulder to better assess the color alongside her skin. Like any member of the Water Tribe, Orora's complexion was darker then of those around her. And given that she had been traveling under the sun for so long, it had only darkened more. The color did stand out, and the fabric was so soft.

The young waterbender hummed. "Well I have an idea in mind. If I could explain it to you, would you be able to find something for me?" Hana grinned. "Its always good to have a customer who knows exactly what they want." She praised, picking up a writing utensil and paper to write down Orora's instructions.

"What did you have in mind?" She asked, looking like a woman on a mission. Orora grinned.

                                           ————————–

Fifteen minutes later, she walked towards the waiting area with Hana beside her.

"We have everything you just asked for Orora. I just have to alter it to your measurements, but that won't take long." Hana said with a reassuring smile to which Orora nodded. "Thank you for all your help Hana. If I may ask for one small request."

So saying, she quickly darted forward grabbing Zuko by the arm, and pulling him from his chair to stand beside her. Zuko, who had been busy examining his new swords, and pretending not to eavesdrop, was more so surprised at the sudden motion that there was no resistance on his part.

"My friend and I have to be at a dinner party tonight, but we do not have a place to bath or clean up. Do you know any bath houses around here?"

There was no way she was about to wear her new clothes without cleaning herself up first. She hadn't had a chance to bathe since the desert, a thought that had her shivering in disgust. Zuko glanced at her. "Is that your subtle way of saying I stink?" He asked to which Orora smirked.

"Subtle? I must be loosing my touch. I meant it to be more direct." She grinned at him before turning her attention back to the softly laughing Hana. "Luckily for you two my brother owns a bath house. And it is not so far from here." She moved to the door, gesturing for the duo to follow. "Just go down this street then take a right. First door on the left." She instructed. "I shall have both of your clothes delivered there within the hour."

"Thank you." The ever polite Orora said, even as she poked her elbow into Zuko's stomach to remind him to do the same. He did so, albeit in a rather grumpy manner. Still it was better or nothing.

Once they had paid for their clothes, the two set off down the street as Hana had instructed.

"You know we could've cleaned up at the new place we will be staying at." Zuko suggested, to which Orora gave him a disgusted look. "Zuko, we're filthy. We've been traveling for days. If you want to wait and dirty your new clothes, go right ahead." She made a hand gesture to that effect, but s topped midway as her blue eyes caught sight of something.

Zuko followed her line of sight and groaned loudly. "I have to buy one more thing." So saying Orora quickly made her way to the display of pretty hair accessories that had caught her eye. She yanked Zuko along with her, not having dropped the hold she had on his arm where she had looped it through his earlier.

A fact that neither of the them noticed.

At least Orora wasn't like other girls who would spend hours poring over pretty trinkets only to not buy them in the end. It wasn't even ten minutes later that they were once again making their way towards the bath houses, with Orora admiring the new hair comb she had bought.

"Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, watching how the blue stone set in the middle of the comb caught the mid-morning sunlight and shimmered beautifully. "And its so detailed, just look at the dragon." She held it to his eye level. He gave it a brief once over and, reluctantly, nodded. It was a pretty piece of jewelry there was no denying that.

"I thought I should get something blue to represent my Nation." Tucking away the comb in her pouch. Glancing up she saw him clench his jaw even tighter. At this rate he would grind his teeth to dust. "Maybe you should do the same?" She suggested her voice soft as they reached the bath houses.

His gaze snapped in her direction, startled and surprised. That was certainly not what he had been expecting her to say. Glancing around from the corner of her eye, Orora met his gaze with a look of understanding. Reaching out, almost hesitantly, she grasped his wrist, stepping forward so she could whisper the next words to him. "I don't condone what they have done. But they are still your people, and I know you miss your home."

She had to lift herself up on her toes slightly to be able to whisper to him properly. The action allowed the front of her chest to press against his slightly. To any onlooker it would look to be nothing more then a lover's embrace. To Zuko, the barely there embrace, was one of comfort. Something he did not realize he had needed for so long. He closed his eyes, but only briefly, before he gave Orora a small nod. While he wouldn't voice his appreciation for her act, he could acknowledge it.

Orora smiled softly before she stepped back. Turning she quickly walked into the bath house, and after a moment Zuko followed.

                                           ————————–

Steam curled from the water as Orora stepped into the square space in a robe, having gotten rid of her clothes as soon as she could. Locking the door securely behind her, she turned her attention to the tub in the middle of the room. It was just big enough for her so she eagerly shrugged off the robe and settled into the warm water. A sigh of utter contentment fell from her lips, feeling a sense of comfort as the water surrounded her. Quickly submerging her head, the girl picked up the sweet scented soap that had been left for her and began to scrub her hair and body. The water itself had some sweet smelling oils in them, and if it were up to her, she would stay there for hours.

Once done cleaning herself, she bended the water separating whatever dirt she had scrubbed off herself. Casting the dirt aside, she allowed the water to settle back down into the tub. Orora had barely leaned back to rest her head against the back of the tub when the sound of voices from the other side of the wall had her listening in curiously.

"You can wash up here." Said an unfamiliar voice. She heard the sound of a door opening on the other side. Make sense that the room next to her was also a bathroom. "I'll leave your clothes outside the door once they arrive."

"Thank you!"

The waterbender sat up straight, water sloshing around her as a small squeak of surprise fell from her lips. A sound the echoed in the otherwise quiet space, and since the wall on her left had more then ample space between itself and the ceiling, it was clearly heard by the person who had just entered the bathing chamber on the other side.

"Orora?"

It was Zuko.

Spirits help her! Zuko was in the room next to her own.

The thought alone had a blush stealing across her cheeks, and she could feel it as it traveled down her neck to her shoulders. How that was even possible she had no idea.

"Orora is something wrong?" His voice sounded closer now, like he was standing right next to the wall. And his voice sounded urgent. Clearing her throat she shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "No, no everything is fine." Her voice sounded strange even to her ears.

On the other side of the wall, Zuko's brief flash of panic dissipated and the reality of the situation started to set in. He blushed just as brilliantly as Orora did, a fact that was unknown to both of them.

"I'm going to ask for another chamber." Zuko stated, already moving towards the door. The sound of water reached his ears followed by a two words that made his heart stop. "No, wait." Silence followed her soft exclamation as he waited for her to continue. Finally, after a rather lengthy silence, in which Orora was berating herself for speaking out like that, she spoke. "These two were the only bath chambers available on such short notice. Not to mention they'll charge extra since they have to warm the water again and get a new chamber ready so just.............stay."

Despite her affirmation and assurance, there was no denying just how awkward the situation was. Orora could hear every splash of water as Zuko settled into his tub, and Zuko was acutely aware of the fact that she could hear everything. So he just decided to sit in the water once he had hastily scrubbed himself clean.

The one fact that neither of them were even allowing themselves to think on was the state of undress they were both in. To distract herself, Orora began to create small patterns using her water bending, while Zuko made the water as hot as possible without letting it evaporate completely.

The silence and the awkwardness of it was slowly grating at Orora's nerves. She had always hated silence, it reminded her too much of the time when she would spent all those hours in her room while her father entertained guests. Why? Because a proper young lady said her greetings before excusing herself to her rooms.

Her patience only last five minutes before she finally snapped. "I believe we have reached a whole new stage of awkwardness then." Zuko didn't respond, though her acute hearing and bending sense did pick up on the water moving. Indeed, Zuko had been a little startled at hearing her voice, having supposed that the two of them would remain quiet for the remainder of their bath.

"And since they can't get any more awkward I'm just going to come out and say something I've been thinking since we reached Ba Sing Se." More silence, and for once Zuko was sure she actually wanted him to speak, as opposed to all the times she had told him to stay quiet.

"Whats that?" His tone was soft and his voice low, matching her in almost perfect pitch as he leaned his head back against the back of the tub, looking at the ceiling above.

"I know that we have a lot of differences between us." The statement had the young prince letting out a small unexpected chuckle. "Thats putting it mildly." He interrupted her, he could practically picture her pursing her lips at being interrupted. "Well yes, but I don't want to make you any angrier then you already ar-"

"Who said I was angry?" Zuko protested, half rising from his position to glare at the wall. Clenching her fists Orora shook away her annoyance before continuing. "As I was saying, I think tha-"

"I can feel other emotions beside anger you know. I'm not angry all the time an-HEY!" His exclamation was followed by a loud splash as the bubble of water Orora had bended over the space between the wall separating them splashed on his head. As Zuko spluttered and shook his hair out of his eyes, she started again.

"I know that we have a lot of differences between us, and that we would never see eye to eye. And I'm sure not a day will go by where you do not vex me, or I annoy you in some form." Hugging her legs to her chest, the young waterbender hoped the Fire Nation prince wouldn't reject her offer of peace.

"But since we will be living together until...........well we don't know when." Zuko's heart twinged at the reminder, but he stayed quiet. "I thought we should have a truce of some kind? Where we don't fight, at least not all the time, and try to get along."

That dreaded silence once more. Though this time it was heavier, weighing down on her just as much as it weighed down on him. She heard him stand up, prompting a sigh of defeat to echo in the two rooms. She could hear him as he opened the door and took his clothes where they rested on the floor. Zuko's mind raced as he dried himself off and began to pull on his new clothes.

After a few minutes, and accepting that perhaps she had humiliated herself enough, the girl quickly stood from her bath tub, bending the water from her body. Her new clothes rested on the floor in front of her door the same as Zuko. She quickly took them inside and unwrapped the items. Despite the sorrow tugging at her heart, she gave a small smile at the sight of her new clothes.

They were perfect.

Neither of them spoke as the dressed. Though Zuko finished first, and quickly exited the chamber. Orora took a few extra minutes, adjusting her clothes properly, before moving to stand in front of the small mirror and combing her hair with her new comb. Picking up a small section of her hair from her temple, she adjusted them so that she could place the hair comb through the strands. Now with the loose unruly tendrils out of her face, she was able to see her face properly in the mirror.

Satisfied with her appearance, she exited the bath just as she finished adjusting her water satchel, and promptly bumped into Zuko who had been standing right outside her door.

Her hands came up to steady herself, which he quickly caught to keep her from falling. Whatever insult that had been about to fall from her lips vanished when she saw who she had walked into.

Ice blue eyes widened, as she took in his newly dressed state. The clothing suited him, but what caught her eye in particular was how long his hair had gotten and how the strands at the front fell over his forehead. She had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and pushing them back. Not only because she wanted to feel how soft his hair was, but also because she wanted to see his pretty gold eyes properly.

Eyes that were now taking her in. The first time Zuko had met her she had been wearing her blue parka that had been blood stained and rumpled from her run in with the Fire Nation soldiers. Other then that, he had only seen her in shapeless short kimonos and pants that were dull in color and hid the fact that she was a girl.

The outfit she wore now did not hide any aspect of her being a girl at all.

She had opted for a light green Cheong dress with no sleeves to allow her arms to move better. The shirt she wore under it had long sleeves though, sitting snugly against her skin. The sides of the dress opened starting from her hips down the entire length of the dress which stopped a few inches below her knees. The edges of the dress had a pretty swirling design to add a hint of flare to it. Underneath it she had chosen a pair of pants that was dark green, the ends of which was tucked into her new leather calf length shoes.

She had styled her clothes exactly like the fashion of her Nation, except in green and lighter in material.

It had been perfect, though the dress was still a little loose on her. So Orora had taken the green sash the garments had come tied in and wrapped it around her waist. Not only did the dress look much better, but the belt accentuated her waist and made her look almost as if her body had an hourglass shape.

And while Orora was not the most vain girl, she did like looking pretty.

And for once, after so many months, she looked, smelled and felt pretty.

And Zuko was acutely aware of all three facts as he continued to stare at her. It wasn't unnerving in any form. There was no malice in his eyes. Only an emotion that she had never seen on his face before. Which was why she was having a hard time to place it.

She could puzzle over it later, she figured as Zuko released her hands and stepped back. Blue met gold before the latter disappeared behind closed lids briefly. But once they opened, there was a determined look in them.

And Orora saw the reason for it when her eyes dropped to the hand he held out to her. A beat of silence, in which Orora felt her breath hitch in her throat and a bright smile to bloom across her face as she reached out to grasp his hand between both of her own. And this time, when blue met gold, Zuko gave a small smile back.

"Truce."

                                           ————————–

The two teenagers had barely reached their destination when Iroh suddenly appeared at their side. Holding a vase full of flowers.

"I just want our place to look nice, after all, we have a rather pretty young lady living with us, do we not?" He gave Zuko a nudge with his elbow, though his smile was directed at Orora who blushed and smiled in return.

"You look lovely my dear." He complimented, though it would seem Zuko had reverted back to his moody self as he spoke. "This city is a prison. I don't want to make a life here." He sounded so bleak and hopeless about his situation that Orora frowned.

"We don't have a choice." She kept her voice soft so that no one would overhear her. "This was the only way to ensure our survival in the long run."

Iroh, sensing his pupil's rising annoyance with his nephew, quickly spoke. "Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not." Without pausing for breath he continued. "Now come on, I found us some new jobs, and we start this afternoon!"

Zuko stopped short, staring in disbelief. "A job?!"

Orora snorted to herself, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, earning a glare from Zuko. Watching a Prince who had probably never worked a day in his life do an actual job?!

Oh, she was in for a treat, she thought smiling wickedly.

                                          ————————–

It came as no surprise when Iroh led them to a tea shop.

"And here I was thinking you had gotten a job at an apothecary shop." The young waterbender teased as she followed after her Master. Iroh simply grinned in reply. The two of them didn't bother to see if Zuko followed. He stood outside the shop, staring glumly at it before heaving a resigned sigh and following after his two companions.

It wasn't long before Pao, the shop owner, had handed them matching aprons and was telling them everything they needed to know about the shop. He prattled on as Orora finished tying the string behind her back.

"Argh, ridiculous." Zuko muttered under his breath, looking just as annoyed as he sounded. Orora nudged him with her elbow where she stood at his side. "Be grateful that we will have a steady income. Do you even know how hard it is to get a job in such a big city?"

He turned to glare at her. "This is humiliating. I'm not meant to be working as a servant. I'm supposed to have people working for me." He gritted through clenched teeth.

The girl gave him an unimpressed look. "Well I'm not meant to be here at all. I'm supposed to be married by now and living a miserable life." She caught sight of the surprised look that crossed his features, but continued to speak. "I wouldn't trade my current predicament for anything in the world." With that she turned her attention to the shop owner, who was still speaking with Iroh.

After a good few minutes of feeling Zuko's stare at her, she looked at him, raising her eyebrow in question. "You were supposed to get married?" His voice sounded hoarse and strange, even to his own ears. Orora nodded before giving a shrug. "It was arranged by my father. I had no say in it." She stated shortly, her eyes flashing with that iciness that served as a reminder to him to never cross her.

"Uh, does this possibly come in a larger size?" Iroh, who had been struggling to tie his apron finally spoke up. Pao gave a nod. "I have extra string in the back. Have some tea while you wait!" Before leaving he quickly poured hot tea into three cups and handed them out to his new employees.

Orora glanced down at the contents of her cup, making a face at the questionable color of the liquid. Iroh seemed to share her sentiment since he barely took a sip of it before his face contorted to one of disgust. He held the cup away from his body, as if it had done him some personal offense. "Blech! This tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!" He declared. Zuko gave his Uncle a dead-panned look. "Uncle, that's what all tea is."

But the old man wasn't having it as he gave a look of utter disappointment and heartbreak. "How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?!" He exclaimed before a look of determination crossed his face. "We'll have to make some major changes around here."

"Well lets hope our boss doesn't fire us for taking over his shop." Orora stated softly, setting aside her cup and glancing around the bare shop.

"Though this place could do with some decorating."

Zuko groaned. Between Iroh's fanatic obsession with tea, and Orora's stubbornness to get her own way, he knew he was going to have his hands full.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty

#zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #zuko #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #prince zuko #prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x y/n #prince zuko x reader #atla imagine #the thread of fate #avatar the last airbender

[miks-delusional-blog]

Just hold my hand - Mizu x fem! reader

Tags: fluff, very minor angst (not really angst?) Idk how to tag sorry I’m a noob, Mizu just being a bit anxious, that’s as angsty as it gets

Notes: In 2nd person (you), 858 words, Mizu x Fem! reader

Context: you and Mizu are friends(?) with romantic tension (I'm projecting).

Little A/N: lmao ran out of fanfics to read so I wrote one!

Guys I haven't written fanfic (and posted it) since I was 14 YEARS OLD. I'm 20. The passage of time is so scary.

I'm open to criticism but please be gentle.

Enjoy <3 Love Yamz x

It was a cold day. Just a few days after the new year. The golden sun slowly travelled over the horizon, the moon and stars chasing after. You and Mizu were walking through a bustling crowded street, lined with street vendors. 

The two of you walked together, slightly trailing behind her. Occasionally you’d remark,

“Those steamed buns smell so good, we should come back here later!”

“Woah…”

“Ooh, that’s so cool, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that bracelet cute?”

And Mizu would hum in reply, nodding and agreeing with you nonchalantly. 

As the two of you continued through the street, it seemed to get busier and louder. Your voice was getting quieter as everyone else got louder, their conversations drumming against Mizu’s ears. As Mizu walked, a necklace caught her eye. One she expected you’ll comment on.

But she’s met with silence.

Mizu, a little confused, turns back to look at you, but you’re not there. She looks around, walking back the way she came. She scanned the stalls but she couldn't see you. It didn’t help that the street had gotten busier.

‘Where are you?’ she thinks.

Before she realised, she became frantic. Barging through the crowd, she called out for you, her head whipping around just for a glimpse of you.

‘Where are you?’

Did something happen?

Maybe you got lost. Or maybe you had gotten distracted.

Had you been taken without her realising? There’s no way. She would have noticed. Right?

Had you abandoned her? No, there’s no way…

Desperate, Mizu began asking people if they had seen you. They’d brush her off, or roll their eyes, but she didn’t care. 

‘Where the hell are you?’

Mizu pulled herself to the side of the street. She felt her heartbeat thumping in her ears. She needed to calm down. Collect herself. You couldn’t have gone far. Why had she gotten so worked up about you? You’re not a child.

She let out a sigh to calm her breathing. She scanned the crowd again. 

‘How could I let the thought of her get me so rattled? Fucking ridiculous.’ She thought, gritting her teeth.

‘Where the fuck is she? That brat. Always fucking wandering off…’ finally her eyes settled on your figure.

You hadn’t spotted her yet. Mizu watched as you looked around at the busy crowd with nervous eyes. 

In a way it comforted her. Your nervous form, looking around for her. It quelled her previous anxieties of you possibly being kidnapped or of your abandonment. Mizu smirked a little at your image.

“Mizu!” You called out with a wavering voice, still not seeing her. 

‘This feels a little sadistic now.’ Mizu chuckled to herself. She walked over to you, pushing through the crowd.

Mizu called out to you when she was a lot closer. 

“Mizu? Mizu!” your face lights up when you spot her, relief washing over you. You ran up to her, hugging her before pulling away slightly, remembering how that wasn’t her thing. “Oh right sorry-”

To your surprise, she pulls you back into her embrace. She lowers her head close to your ear, “Where the hell did you go?” Her words are sharp but her voice is unexpectedly soft.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I saw something at a stall and I called out to you, and I thought you heard me so I went over. But, we got separated.” You said, feeling a little embarrassed. 

Mizu lets out a sigh, her eyebrows knit slightly. “Why didn’t you just tap me or something?”

You look at her puzzled, “But, you don't like being touched.”

“I don’t mind if it’s you.” She barks, a little frustrated. You flinch a little at her tone. Realising her harshness she let out another breath trying to calm down. She stepped back, separating from you. You felt the absence of her warmth.

“Look,” she began crossing her arms, “I’d rather you touch me for two seconds than having to spend an hour looking for you. You’re lucky that you just wandered off this time. Next time we get separated like that, I’m not gonna come looking for you. I don’t care if you get kidnapped or swallowed by the earth.” 

You felt yourself heat up in embarrassment. Averting eye contact, “sorry…” 

“I need to get you a bell so I don’t lose you. In the meantime…” Mizu held out her hand towards you.

You paused, looking down at it a little confused.

She rolls her eyes, “Just take my hand.”

You abided immediately.

The two of you began walking down the bustling street, hand in hand. Her hands were cold and rough but being so close to her made you feel warm and safe.

After a moment of reflecting on your conversation, “Mizu?”

“Yeah?” she glanced over at you.

“Did you think I got kidnapped?” You enquired. 

She briefly paused, “It was a possibility that crossed my mind.”

You smiled, beaming “Oh…you really do care about me.”

“Shut up. Don't be a brat.” 

You laughed, bumping her shoulder softly. She rolled her eyes, looking away from you. But still she smirks, shifting her grip in your warm and soft hand.

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu x reader #mizu x fem!reader #mizu x reader fluff #bes mizu #wlw fluff #idk how to tag im sorry

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 4

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5 , Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

AN: I wrote this hungover so you can just call me The Little Engine That Could

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, SA, blood

Word Count: 3,121

If Eris could see me right now he would surely detest my un-princess like behavior and call off our courtship promptly. In fact I might put ‘standing on a pile of books to reach the top of a bookshelf’ in my Eris repellent arsenal. 

Normally I would ask The House of Wind for assistance but I suppose that today it wanted to use me as entertainment. The large stack below me wobbled causing my stomach to flip as my fingertips brushed the edge of the leatherbound book I was just dying to read. I almost had it in my hand when my book stack teetered again causing me to gasp. 

“Woah there princess!” boomed a voice from the hall. “Get down, you're going to hurt yourself.” 

I turned my head to find Cassian clad in casual clothes, most likely about to turn in for the night. Seeing him in fighting leathers was deadly, but seeing him so domestic? It made my cheeks heat. My makeshift step stool wobbled again and I would’ve toppled over if it wasn’t for the general's hands grasping my hips and placing me on the ground. 

“Thanks,” I smile as my feet firmly hit the plush carpet. I can’t help but feel a little foolish.

“Which one did you want?” Cassian asked, scanning the shelf I was close to climbing. 

“Uh the red one, with the rose on the spine,” I reply pointing to it. 

He reached his arm up and plucked the book from the shelf with ease. Gods now I really did feel foolish. 

“Here you go,” he smiles, handing me the book. I take it from his grasp and for a moment his hand brushes mine sending shivers down my spine. In the 5 seconds I feel his skin I try to soak up all the warmth that it holds. Try to remember the sensation so I can replay it over and over again in my head when I go to bed. 

“Thank you,” I smile trying to avoid those hazel eyes.

“See now you’ve taught me to fetch too,” he jokes. 

I roll my eyes, “You’re never going to let me live that dog comment down are you?” I laugh. 

Cassian flashes me a smile that threatens to make my knees buckle before perusing the bookshelf himself. I take it as my queue to relax on the couch next to the roaring fire. Ever since that drunken night when I ran into him coming back from Rita’s I couldn’t shake the words he had said to me… I’d do anything for you y/n. I tried to forget the feeling of his hands on my hips, the warmth seeping through the silk of my nightgown. But no matter how hard I tried, the scene continued to replay in my head over and over again. 

Even now it was hard to read with him in the room. I tried to keep my eyes on the book I was reading, but even just watching him scan all the shelves was erotic. I watched as his fingers grazed over a few titles until he finally plucked one from its spot. He began to walk towards the door and before I could even think my words betray me. 

“Wait!” I call out and he stops in his tracks. I mentally curse myself. Now what’s your plan dipshit? 

“Do you need another book?” Cassian asks and I realize I’ve let him sit in silence for longer than I ought to. 

“Could you stay and read here? I know reading is typically an independent activity but…” My voice trails off and I try to decide whether or not to voice my next words. “I find it hard being alone as of late.”  

It was true. Whenever I had a moment alone my mind would wander to that interaction in the hallway… don’t marry him…and then it would wander to thoughts of Eris, that damned dream I kept having. 

“Of course I’ll stay,” he says, turning from the door. 

As long as you’ll let me, I’ll do anything for you princess…

Cassian walks over to where I sit on the couch, picks up my outstretched legs and places them on his lap so that he can sit down. His forearms rest on my shins as he flips open his book and I nearly gawk at how natural the movement is for him. 

“You don’t have to sit next to me, you know?” I laugh. “You can sit in one of the chairs over there if you want to.” I say nodding to a set of armchairs in the corner. 

“Yeah but this is the only seat close to the fire,” he replies. “Besides, those chairs aren’t very wing friendly.” 

My eyes look back to the chairs and realize that he’s right so I shrug my shoulders and turn my eyes to my book. It was hard to concentrate on reading with the feeling of my legs in his lap but as my eyes scan the page I can’t help but get lost in the story…

“So you have me alone, in your bedroom.” Sofie says. “Now what happens?” 

Alexander stalks towards her, looking her up and down. “Now I kiss you, and touch you, and make you mine in every way I possibly can.”

I feel my blood heat up and I avidly try not to let my toes curl knowing they are currently in Cassian’s lap. The scene progresses and I try not to look like I’m reading something so filthy in the presence of my general, which is near impossible. 

Cassian clears his throat and I yank my gaze up expecting to find him looking at me like a scorned parent. Instead I find him quietly reading his own book. His own very large, very heavy book. 

“That book is huge,” I point out and his gaze snaps to me. “What is it about?”

“It’s about war strategies,” he replies cooly. “I’ve read it before, but I like to brush up on it every now and then.” 

“That’s what you read in your spare time? War strategies?” I scoff. 

“Knowledge is power princess,” he smiles flipping through the pages of the abnormally large book. “I’m your general, don’t you want me reading this kind of thing?” 

“I want you to read what makes you happy, especially when it’s for pleasure.” I laugh, shaking my head.  

“Well then you’ll be glad to know that reading war books makes me happy,” he muses at me. 

I shake my head and return to my own book, getting caught up in the heat of the scene once more. 

“What are you reading princess?” Cassian chides knowingly. 

“Oh nothing,” I say, pulling the book closer to my chest in a way that definitely could’ve been more subtle.

“Really because it looked like you were riveted a few moments ago,” he smirks, leaning over to try and see the title. 

“Well it’s a good book!” I squeak, pulling the book back further so he can’t see it.

“Why are you hiding?” Cassian laughs. “Afraid I’ll judge your literary tastes?”

“Yes actually I am,” I laugh pulling the book away from his hand as he tries to pluck it from my fingers. 

“Oh c’mon princess I showed you mine now show me yours,” he teases. One of his hands clamps down on my ankle so I can’t shift away anymore while the other snatches the book from my hands. 

“Cassian!” I protest as he moves the novel to his other hand that’s hanging off the arm of the couch. 

“As he kissed her feverishly his hands ran down her bare breasts, leaving goosebumps over the skin they touched.” Cassian read from the book. “This isn’t very lady like reading material princess!” he teases me. 

In a panic I climb over his lap to try and get the book back but he pulls it even further away. 

“Alexander's fingers traveled lower to her awaiting-” Cassian laughed before I finally grabbed the book from his hands. 

“I’ll take that!” I said snapping the book closed. 

It wasn’t until the book was safely in my possession once more that I realized the compromising position I was in… I was on his lap. I was sitting on my general's lap. I quickly scooted over to the side to sit next to him once more trying to hide the blush in my cheeks. 

“Who knew you had a secret romantic side?” Cassian teases with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah yeah, you found me out! Now go back to reading your book about stabbing people!” I brush him off with a laugh.

We spend the rest of the evening reading our respective books, this time without any interruptions. At first it’s nearly impossible to read while he’s right next to me, especially given the content of said book. But after a while I fall into a comfortable silence with the general, stealing glances at him whenever I can. At some point in the night, though I can’t pinpoint when, my eyes grow heavy and I fall asleep, one of the most peaceful rests I’d had in a while.  

Cassian: 

I’d be lying if I didn’t say the content of the princess’ book didn’t both shock and intrigue me. So much so that I couldn’t help but glance her way every once in a while just to see her little hands gripping the pages like her life depended on it. 

Even though she was just sitting there reading, she was so undeniably gorgeous. No wonder her beauty had been built up to the point where she was practically a character from mythology.  I almost cursed myself for admiring her too much, clearly just becoming another wide eyed male desperately seeking the princess’ attention. I recalled how Helion practically begged Rhysand for her hand, not to mention the other lords. Gods I really was just one of many when, and even more depressing, the least worthy of her affections.

At one point I glanced over to find her fast asleep with her book resting on her chest. I thought about leaving to go to my room or carrying her to bed. But she was so peaceful. More peaceful in this moment than I had seen in the past few weeks. I would kill anyone who dared pull her from that peace, and that meant myself as well. So I set down my book and let myself sink further into the couch. 

I had never slept in the library before, but there’s a first time for everything.  

Cassian:

“You’re even slower today than you were yesterday brother,” Azriel barked, swinging his sword towards me. I blocked with my own, the sound of metal on metal reverberating throughout the air. “Let me guess, another bad night of sleep?” 

“I slept fine!” I grumble going in for the attack, he blocks me with ease. 

“Are you sure? When I saw you asleep on the couch with the princess this morning you didn’t look too comfortable.” he smirked. The words caught me so off guard I missed my block and his sword sliced the back of my shoulder. 

“Ahh,” I hissed at the cut. 

“Sorry I thought you were gonna block that,” Azriel laughs. 

“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging off the small cut. “Let’s go again.” 

“Actually let’s call it, Rhys needs me on the border to check on things with Hybern,” Az replies, putting his sword over with the others. 

I do the same and go to take off the wraps around my hands. I can’t help but notice the scars and calluses all over them from years of battle and war. Clearly hands unfit to be anywhere near the princess. 

“How does the autumn court fare?” Azriel asks, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Still full of the most pompous asses in Prythian,” I roll my eyes. 

“Good to see things haven’t changed,” Az laughs. “Does y/n seem to be warming up to Eris?” 

My head immediately goes to that dark hallway. How she screamed for him to get off her. I’ll never unsee the fear in her eyes. 

“No, she can’t stand him. But he seems to be warming up to her just fine,” I say trying not to sound as bristled as I am. 

“Uh oh,” Azriel said, catching my tone. 

“He was going to rape her the other day, I had to intervine.” I huff tossing away what’s left of my wraps a little harsher than I normally would.

“Are you serious? Why haven’t you told Rhys?” Azriel asks, his tone changing. 

“She won’t let me, she's determined to see this thing through, for us, for her people.” I explain trying to stay calm. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see this coming,” Azriel says. “When she became this almost mythical being I knew that she would be a conquest. Especially for males like Eris. If he chooses to marry her it won’t be because he loves her. He just wants to say that he owns The Jewel.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I scoff at my brother. 

“She deserves someone who loves her for her. Someone who sees her as more than The Jewel. Someone who has a big heart. Someone who makes her laugh. Someone that teaches her how to play drinking games,” Azriel went on and I knew exactly what he was getting at. 

“Nice try Az, but it’s never going to happen,” I huff walking towards the door 

“You wouldn’t know, you haven’t asked her!” he shouts at me. 

I shake my head at my brother's persistence as I make my way inside the House of Wind. For what it’s worth, I should be flattered that he think’s the princess could ever love someone like me. But I don’t feel flattered, I feel like a joke. The kind that might be passed around by other men at taverns for years to come. 

“Have you ever heard the story of the bastard general and the beautiful princess?”

“The poor fool fell in love with her and she turned him down flat!”

Gods I could hear the crowds of drunken fools laughing at the tale right now. 

The kitchen in the House of Wind always seemed like the most alive part of the house and the part of the house I had always ventured to least. Meals always seemed to appear whenever they were required, leaving no reason to darken the kitchen's doorstep. However, while the cut on the back of my shoulder didn’t hurt, the last thing I needed was an infection. Which is how I found myself rummaging through doors and cabinets for the first aid kit.

“You’re bleeding.” said that beautiful voice cutting through the air like a siren's song. I swore then and there I’d follow it to whatever end. 

I turned to find the princess, standing in the doorway clutching that red leather book from last night. I don’t miss her eyes glancing over my half naked body and it takes everything in me not to bear a self satisfied smirk.

“It’s just a scratch from sparring with Az,” I reply, trying to look over my shoulder to see the state of the cut. 

“Here, let me help you,” she said, turning to the drawer nearest to her and pulling out the first aid kit. 

“Don’t worry I can do it,” I assure her, the idea of her dirtying her hands by touching me makes me cringe. 

“It’s on your back you won’t be able to reach it,” she answers, laying out the things from the kit. 

“Princess you really don’t have-” 

“Shh, think of it as me repaying you for fetching that book for me last night,” she says with a playful glint in her eye. 

I smile remembering everything from me teasing her about the dog comment to the sight of her reading that dirty book. I turn around so she can see the small cut. 

“Do you think you could sit down? It’ll be easier for me to reach.” she asked me. 

“Yes sorry,” I replied sitting down. 

My skin practically buzzes from anticipation, knowing I’ll feel the gentleness of her hands at any  moment.  I suddenly feel like an adolescent male again, excited at the idea of having a female hug me. The second the warm washcloth is pulled away from the cut it’s replaced by her hands smoothing a healing balm over it. I flinch at the chill of her fingers on my bare skin. 

“Sorry my hands are cold,” she apologizes. I almost laugh, her hands are nothing but perfect. All of her is. 

“No it’s okay,” I say back trying to keep my voice even. I feel her smooth a bandage over the cut and the second she removes her hands from my skin I contemplate begging her to touch me once more. 

“All patched up!” she cheers, already beginning to pick up the supplies. 

“Thank gods I thought they were going to have to amputate,” I laugh standing up and flexing my shoulder back and forth to get used to the feeling of the wrapping.

“We can’t have that. How would you dance at the Vanserra’s ball tomorrow night?” she jokes putting the kit back in the drawer. 

“Ah yes, I forgot that’s tomorrow,” I say. In truth I had been counting down the days leading up to the dreaded event.

“You are coming right?” she asks and I can sense a bit of worry behind her words.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” I assure her. 

“Good, it’ll be nice to have a familiar face there,” she smiles. “Who knows, maybe they’ll bring out that wine they had at dinner.”

“They better, there’s no way I can stand being in a room full of pompous assholes that long sober!” I laugh.  

“Tell me about it, I’ll have to dance with Eris all night,” she says, rolling her eyes. The image of her in his arms is enough to make my blood boil. 

“Who knows princess, maybe you’ll be surprised at your surplus of dance partners,” I smirk knowingly. 

“I’m sure Eris will beat them all off with a stick,” she huffs leaning against the table, picking at her nails. 

“Then he should talk to Rhys first and get a few pointers,”  I laughed leaning against the table next to her. 

"Or better yet, maybe I'll bring a stick to fend them off myself," she quips, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

With a shared laugh, we lingered in the moment, finding solace in each other's company before the looming specter of tomorrow's ball cast its shadow over us once more.

Part 5

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup

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