#the way she slightly flinched back when he swayed toward her after just had me thinking of Logan

[divorcedtom]

the ear flick was not cute i would’ve swung at him

#the way she slightly flinched back when he swayed toward her after just had me thinking of Logan #then i went on twitter and everyone thought it was sexy #so uh #succession spoilers

[disneyprincemuke]

best years * fem!driver

growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: this was so hard to write for no reason

(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)

2013

she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.

around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.

she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.

sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.

so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.

she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.

beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.

“okay, gather up, please!”

she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.

“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”

“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”

her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”

“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”

“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.

she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.

looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.

blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.

then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.

2014

“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”

“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”

“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”

his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”

“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”

his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.

“hey, piss off, will you?”

“whatever, dude.”

her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”

she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”

he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”

“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”

“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”

she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”

“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.

“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”

“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”

she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”

“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”

the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”

“thank you, i like making boys cry.”

“i never said you made me cry.”

“you may as well have.”

“maybe next race if you can do it again.”

“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.

logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”

and the rest is history, as they say.

2015

"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."

"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."

"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."

a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.

"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"

"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.

"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"

dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"

he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"

"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."

"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"

"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."

she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."

oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."

he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"

the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.

"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"

oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."

2016

"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.

immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"

she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.

"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."

"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"

"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."

she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."

logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."

she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."

she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."

2017

"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"

she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."

"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"

"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."

oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"

she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"

oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."

"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."

"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.

"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."

"you're a guy."

"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"

"i'd understand if you did."

"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."

his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.

"you alright, babe?"

she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.

as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.

"yeah, i'm fine."

"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."

this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.

"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."

"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."

"i'll even take oscar with me."

"no... oscar's mad at me."

"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."

"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."

"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."

oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.

she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.

she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."

"hey, what the hell!"

2018

she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"

"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."

"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."

"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."

she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."

"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"

"he's got a girlfriend."

"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."

"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.

"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"

"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."

"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."

"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."

2019

the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."

"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."

oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."

she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.

how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?

"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."

"not better than you, though," she jokes.

he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."

"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."

oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.

if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.

"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."

"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."

"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."

"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."

"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."

2020

"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"

"what did you say?"

"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"

her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.

she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"

"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"

"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"

"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"

she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.

oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."

"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"

2021

"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."

"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."

"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"

"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"

"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."

she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."

he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."

2022

"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"

logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.

"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.

"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.

"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."

oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."

they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.

her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."

and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology

#oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x you #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #f1 fem!driver #female driver #formula 1 female driver #formula 1 fem!driver #formula 1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

[winterrrnight]

wish I had you

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe made a huge mistake and lost the love of his life.

WARNINGS: angst, angst, angst! Absolutely no fluff, it's all angst, swearing, drugs, drug overdose!, heartbreaks, very small mentions of s*lf h*rm

EDITH SPEAKS: I'm back!!!! My exams were, something, but now I'm finally back and writing again 🥹 oh I'm so happy! I'll be getting onto my requests too, but for now, requests are back open! So get in any and all ideas you may have :)

This is so so so sad, and yes, Rafe is pretty much the one doing all the wrong here. No, it doesn't have a happy ending, it's pure angst. It's the reason I'm breathing right now, and also the reason I'm breaking inside. I hope this makes you feel a roller coaster of emotions :')

The fic is inspired by one of my favourite artist, Ruel makes insane music and please check his stuff out if you want to 🫶🏻 and also listen to this track while reading this so the level of sadness and heartbreak just 📈📈📈📈

Please please please like and reblog if you liked this!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💝

navigation || join my taglist || requests

I watch her on the sidewalk, her hand intertwined with his as he sways their arms, both of them laughing. I feel the same pain in my heart which I experience each time I see them together.

Each time I see her so happy with someone who isn't me.

He's the one who gets to take her to little dates, click her pictures, surprise her with flower bouquets, when it is supposed to be me. I am the one who should be taking her to little dates, clicking her pictures, and surprising her with flower bouquets.

He kisses her cheek after pulling her closer to him from her waist the same way I used to do. She giggles just the same way she used to do with me. Her eyes sparkle and the most beautiful smile pulls her lips, and my heart used to flutter each time her irises gazed into mine.

But I don't get to experience that anymore. I don't get to see her smiling at me. Instead, each time we come across each other in public, she pretends she doesn't know who I am. Like I don't exist in her world anymore. And her boyfriend makes sure to pull her even closer to him and give me a glare if I even glance at her.

And I completely deserve that. Everything we had went down the gutter because of the way I am.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

I slowly open the door to try and make as less noise as I can. I creep up the stairs, each move of mine calculated, but when I peek inside the room, i notice she's awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.

I notice her body is moving as she is crying, the sobs escaping her silently. I feel my heart break at the sight. What have I done?

"Babe, hey..." I say softly, as I push open the door. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and red. Whenever I used to open the door after coming home from a long day, she would look at me with love in her eyes, but right now, there is nothing close to love in those eyes.

"Don't, just don't-" she whispers, her voice shaky and strained. Her cheeks are stained with her tears, and as she steps away from me, her footsteps are just as shaky as her voice.

"Just hear me out this one time, I was-"

"NO!" She yells, cutting me off. Her yell takes me by surprise, causing me to flinch slightly. "I don't have time for your excuses Rafe, I'm done with you, I'm done with this all. There's nothing you can say or do which can help defend you. Go back to your drugs, and Barry, I don't care," She moves towards her closet and gets a bag, and starts to put all her belongings in her bag.

I want to go ahead and stop her, get on my knees and beg her to not leave me, but my feet remain glued to the ground. I look at my feet, and hear the sounds of her frantically throwing stuff in her bag and trying to stuff it all in.

Suddenly, it is all silent. I look up to see her back towards me, and her arms at her sides. The bag she is stuffing is kept by her side on the ground, its contents spilling out.

"You know what today is?" She whispers.

I look at her back with my eyes wide, trying to comprehend what she is saying. What is it today? I rack my brain for answers but it turns up with nothing.

"It's our five year anniversary," she whispers, "and you promised to take me to Paris, where you and me will get on top of the Eiffel Tower to kiss just as it strikes midnight for today."

I want to jump off a 20 storey building.

This is too much.

I never knew how capable I was of fucking perfectly curated relationships up.

"But you forgot. Just the way you forgot about me. You've forgotten me completely, Rafe. All you care is about stupid shit, about your drugs, and your gold, and whatever the fuck it is. But I know you stopped caring about me a long, long time ago." She turns around now, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. "I waited, waited for as long as I could. I thought you'll come back to me. I thought you'll realise you're in the wrong and you'd want to correct it. But that moment never happened. I was just giving myself false hope." Her voice cracks towards the end and more tears stream down her face. She moves her hand to wipe them, and I have this sudden urge to hold her face in my hands and wipe her tears.

But I've lost all privileges to hold her, fuck, I shouldn't even look at her anymore.

"I'm ending this all here, I cannot hold onto this short thread of a relationship which you cut off so long ago. I need to let go, solely for me and my health." She sniffs and bends down to stuff everything in her bag messily and zip it up. She picks it up and hangs it on her shoulder.

My vision starts to get blurry as tears form in my eyes, as I watch her walk out of this room. These walls saw us share our most intimate moments together, and now they're seeing it all fall apart.

"Bye, Rafe."

Her last words echo in my ears as she leaves this house.

I've lost her forever.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

As I watch her walk away with her new boyfriend, I have this urge to rip everything apart and bang my head against a wall until it bleeds.

Since she walked out that door, I have been a mess. I don't know who I am anymore. I was so in love with her, I wanted to marry her. I loved showing everyone that I got the best girl one can ever get. She loved me beyond the human capabilities, and made sure I was doing okay at all times.

My addiction to drugs worsened as I find myself each night either in my home with my cocaine or at some party with as many alcohol cups I can down. And it all continued getting bad when I blacked out from the drug consumption at a party and woke up in a hospital bed.

I lost my entire business, I lost my entire soul. I lost who I am, and at this point, I don't know how I'll continue to live life.

Because I want her.

I want her to hold me and run her hands through my hair, and remind me all is okay.

I want her to kiss my forehead and whisper sweet little nothings in my ear.

I want her to rub her hands on my back and tell me she'll always be there for me.

But I don't deserve anything good in life. And I certainly don't deserve an angel like her.

I will always love her.

close my eyes but what's the use, cause my mind still dreams of you.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury

#Spotify #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #written by edith! 🪄

[chairwritexv]

Fem Reader is another adopted kid silco took in (because young jinx insisted on it). The two are super close and deeply care for each other. During the statue scene she tells silco she'll offer herself up and take full blame for jinx if it means her sis stays safe and free. This way zaun is free, jinx is safe, and her dad finally gets his biggest wish. This is enough for silco to basically go "fuck that. You are my children and I will not give either of you away. Not even for Zaun. We'll think of something but I refuse to sacrifice either of you." And Jinx overhears all this.

the statue scene is when silco’s talking to vander’s statue, right? lol, my memory sucks…

tw ❦ angst

platonic ❦ romantic ❦ neutral

fandom ❦ arcane

character(s) ❦ silco, jinx

“is there anything so undoing as a daughter?” silco’d asked as he took a sip of alcohol. you’d peeked your head out of the shadows as you listened to your adoptive father’s conversation with vander’s statue, knowing what you had to do. “dad,” you said as you walked up to him, your hands swaying by your side. silco immediately turned to you, slightly startled. “Y/N.” you took a deep breath. “i’ll do it.” “what?” “i- i’ll offer myself to the enforcers, so that jinx will be safe and-” you were only halfway through your sentence when silco started shaking his head, standing up, but you didn’t notice as your eyes were closed and your head was down. “-and then zaun is free and you’ll have your biggest wish and-” “No.” at this you looked up, staring your adoptive father in the eyes. “but-” “No. i am not giving either of my children away, not even for zaun. i’ll figure something out but i am not losing you or jinx.” you stood there for a moment, unsure what to say before you tackled silco in a hug, almost knocking him over. he flinched, but hugged you back. neither of you noticed your blue-haired sister hiding in the shadows, having heard everything. ☽ 【┘】 ☾ "jiiinnnnxx,,” you dragged out your sister’s name as you called her, your feet dragging behind you as you entered her “lair”. however, the place was empty, much to your surprise. you looked around, making sure she wasn’t hiding to scare you as she’d done so many times before. “jinx?” which is when you noticed the note scribbled on the desk. “ not letting you sacrifice yourself for me n dad. luv you, tell dad i love him too ꨄ ” you cursed and ran out of the room, running as fast as you could all the way to the bridge connecting zaun and piltover. after reaching the bridge you immediately spotted jinx’s bright blue braided hair, and the enforcers surrounding her with their guns raised. “JINX!!” you yelled out, catching jinx’s attention as she turned to you, her eyes widening. “WAIT!!” you yelled out, coming in between jinx and the enforcers, half of whom now had their guns trained on you. “wait, she’s-” “Y/N, no-” “she’s just covering for me,” you spat out, still panting heavily from the long run. “it was me. i did everything. jinx was innocent, she did nothing wrong. she’s just covering.” and that was all the enforcers needed to hear. they handcuffed you and forced you away from jinx, dragging you toward piltover. you looked back at jinx with tears in your eyes, giving your sister one last smile.

hope you enjoyed! ♡ debating a part two lol

#chair writes #chair writes for arcane #jinx x reader #platonic arcane #jinx x sibling reader #jinx blurb #jinx imagines #arcane blurb #arcane imagines #silco blurb #silco imagines #silco x reader #silco scenario #jinx scenario #silco x child reader #arcane x reader

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: TCMOY/NA part 3!!! Read the INTROS!!!! Tell me what you think :)

Masterlist     Series Masterlist     Series Intro     First Years’ Intro Letter

Chapter Three - Knockturn Alley

“How about we get you a treat? A little gift, now that we have everything.” Mr Addams guided (Y/N) along, wandering down another street that looked quite interesting, seeing a sign labelled 'Knockturn Ally'. “Some jewellery perhaps, oh! how about a broom? You can have one of those now that you’re a witch.” He did love to spoil her.

(Y/N) shook her head, looking into various shop windows and over the shoulders of hunched over figures here and there. “I’m not sure about that, besides, we’re not allowed them at school yet. But I’ll get to learn to fly them at some point, might as well see if I like it first.” They wandered a little further down, it was much gloomier there; the buildings were closer together and most shops were quite dark. And it was less crowded too, much nicer than Diagon Ally, she thought. After a while, a display in a shop caught her eye, the girl didn’t see anything in particular that she found interesting, but it seemed like the sort of shop she’d like. “What about here? Can we have a look in there, Father?”

Gomez stopped his walking and made his way back to her, sticking both of his hands in his pockets and reading the name on the window. “Borgin and Burke’s. Yes, I like the sound of that, let’s go then.”

Inside, the shop was dimly lit by a few lights here and there, causing shadows to stretch across the walls and floor from many angles. There were so many strange and unusual objects dotted about, and so (Y/N) decided that this would be a good time to venture about. Her father patted her shoulder as he went to find the owner or an employee to chat with, being the ever so talkative man he was. She investigated every object she passed with a curious eye; dark red curtains that seemed to sway about on their own, a strange wardrobe, a rotting hand mirror decorated with pearls; she could have sworn she saw a silvery movement in its reflection, but she must have just imagined it. She came over to the large fireplace, investigating the little trinkets on the mantle-piece. She then came across two odd sorts of ornaments, each shaped like a hand; she inspected one closer, it reminded her of Thing, except it had more arm left and looked quite rotten and grey. Moving closer, she dragged a nail over the back of one of its bony fingers, flinching slightly as it moved to grab her, then going back to its original position. Smiling lightly, she was about to go find her father when he appeared around a corner. “There you are! I was just talking with Mr Burke and he showed me this magnificent book that I think you might like. Have you seen anything?” He came over to have a look, it appeared that he rather liked this shop as much as his daughter did.

“This ornament here, it’s a little like Thing – it moves, but it’s still just for decoration, this one isn’t quite as… sentient.” She explained and gestured towards the hand.

“Fascinating,” his eyes lit up, then he pulled her along to follow him back, “I’ll have someone pack it up for you then, but come and see this book. I think you might like it.”

They reached the counter where the owner was standing patiently, then recognised the girl and pulled this infamous book from behind the desk. “Here we are. Take a look.”

She did so, pulling it closer to inspect it. It was quite big, about five inches of parchment was piled up inside between the covers. The covers were very nice though, it was a hardback of course, the brownish colour of dark leather bound to wood, and it appeared to have some strange vine-like patterns raised up on it, which were wrapped around the side to seal it. It had a lock too, on each cover’s side, it was shaped like the foot of some kind of bird of prey, with large interlocking talons. And on the front, right in the centre, it had a wrinkly half sphere. Giving it a light poke, (Y/N) almost gasped when it opened up to reveal an abnormally-sized reptilian eye – which looked directly at her. She smiled to her father, who was discussing a necklace in a glass case, tempted to buy it.

“Is it cursed?”

“Oh yes, very cursed I’m afraid, Mr Addams.”

“How lovely – I’ll tell you what, I’ll have that too. My wife will love it.”

After leaving Knockturn Ally, Gomez and (Y/N) went home, having Lurch carry their bags into their home after the long journey. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon and the skies had begun to turn a lovely shade of grey again. Upon stepping inside, she realised that the house was finely decorated.  They heard some noise coming from the room at the top of the stairs – the ball room. (Y/N) ran upstairs excitedly, hearing her father’s laugh as he followed. Reaching the entrance, she saw the sheets removed from furniture and decorations being hung, of course, not much was needed to be done being that (Y/N)’s birthday had been held here just days ago. “(Y/N), darling!” Morticia called as she drifted over, greeting the pair. “How was your day? Did you have fun?”

“It was amazing!” The girl beamed, before plunging into the details of their day excitedly. “—And then we went to this book shop, and it had so many books so we got all of the ones I’ll need for school and some others too and—”

Her mother listened intently, holding the smile on her face as (Y/N) rambled on. “Well, I’m glad you both had such a nice time. Now, about the party,” she started, tapping her nails together, “we’ll be having lots of people visiting of course, and there’ll be plenty of food I’m sure. So now, why don’t you go and help Wednesday? She’s just finishing the last of the invitations in her room.”

(Y/N) nodded before grabbing her bags and making her way to her sister’s room; she was excited to show her all of the new things she’d got, particularly the books bought from Borgin and Burke’s. She made her way upstairs, each step creaking loudly under her foot, as well as the old wooden floors nearer to her sister’s room. “Wednesday~” (Y/N) sang, unusually cheerful for an Addams (but she was the perky one, after all), and knocked on the door. Then barged in almost immediately.

“You know, the purpose of knocking is to wait to be welcomed in,” Wednesday droned, shooting a glare to her sister, who pulled up a chair next to the small desk.

“Well I wasn’t waiting to be welcomed,” replied (Y/N) teasingly, leaning over to see the addresses written on the envelopes. Wednesday’s writing was, admittedly, quite impressive; far better than her father’s and definitely better than Pugsley’s. She’d practised her calligraphy skills quite a lot, taking pride in mastering different fonts for different occasions, which inks to use, or how to address people of different statuses. “You almost done yet?”

Wednesday sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, adding the final letter to the pile. “Yes,” she stated, taking out a candle, six sticks of wax, two wax spoons, and a seal with the Addams Family crest. “Red or black?” She asked, holding up the wax sticks – sealing all of these letters by herself would take hours.

Giving a knowing look, (Y/N) nudged her sister in the side (also knowing how much she hated it). “Oh come on, you want the black one anyway.” She said, taking the red wax from her hands and gathering a few letters. “But I’m having the spoon with the leather handle.”

“No…” Wednesday complained, hating to give up her favourite one, but handing it over anyway; both making their way through the letters slowly. It would take anyone else a long time to do so; having to heat the spoons over the candle to melt the wax, pour it out, and stamp it, for each letter, but the two of them did this often and had learnt to do it much faster. Within only an hour they had already gotten through more than half of the pile, all ready to be sent to every friend and family member before the end of the day.

The party would be a large one – far more guests than (Y/N)’s birthday had entertained – their parents were determined to show off and celebrate their eldest child’s acceptance into the wizarding community, and into Hogwarts. By the end of the week, practically everyone they had ever known would be well aware of (Y/N)’s newfound magic; and by the end of August they would all be wine-ing and dining in the Addams’ ballroom, yet again. The family were known among their community as quite the extravagant celebrators, using practically any excuse to invite their peers and dance the night away. An example would be the party they threw for Pugsley when he made his first grenade; many people were invited, and nobody went home until far past midnight. So of course, this news would be more than lionised – after all, being the first witch in the family in just over a century was no little deal.

However, as much as (Y/N) appreciated the acknowledgement and this certain ‘honour’ she had brought back to the family name, she was a little worried about overshadowing her siblings. She was never so comfortable receiving a lot of attention, especially considering how Pugsley loved it so much. But she understood that it seemed appropriate; one last party before she’s off to a mysterious magical boarding school wouldn’t kill her. At least she had time to be with her family before she had to leave – but the thought of doing so erupted feelings of both excitement and dread in the pits of her stomach. After all, she saw her family every single day – she and Wednesday were very close, and she and Pugsley often experimented with explosives together, she would even miss her parents’ public displays of affection – and suddenly not seeing them everyday would be a massive change. And being surrounded by strangers would definitely add to her discomfort – people were not her expertise.

But to make up for her guilt, (Y/N) decided to give something to her (secretly) favourite sibling. “Hey Wednesday,” she said, stamping another letter sealed and sliding it aside, “today at Diagon Alley, I got you something.”

Though Wednesday often wasn’t the best at showing her feelings, (Y/N) could tell that she was surprised; obviously she hadn’t been expecting a gift. She skipped over to the door where her bags had been discarded on entry and raided through some things, until finally, she pulled out an object wrapped in brown paper, then handed it over to her sister. Wednesday opened it cautiously, but quickly, and tore the paper away to reveal an old glass jar filled to the brim with dried leaves and flowers, and a browning label with lovely hand-writing. “’Atropa Belladonna (Deadly Nightshade)’?” The girl read aloud, allowing herself to show the smallest smile.

(Y/N) nodded, glad that her sister appreciated it – though she hardly had a doubt; the two of them collected various chemicals and poisons, and were very proud of their collections, just one of the ways they bonded. “It’s from this apothecary in Italy, apparently they’ve been selling illegal plants there since 1866. We got it from this shop in Knockturn Alley, Shyverwretch’s Venoms and Poisons, I’ll take you there next time if you’d like?”

Wednesday nodded and opened the jar, taking a whiff of its deadly contents before placing it on her shelf with the rest of her collection. “Thank you, (Y/N).” She said as she took her seat.

“Of course, I can’t wait to take you next time,” Replied (Y/N), then patted Wednesday on the shoulder – earning another scowl – and stood up. “Anyway, I need to start planning and packing and what not, wouldn’t want to miss anything out.” She picked up her things and left the room, leaving the door wide open behind her, much to her sister’s annoyance.

(Y/N) had a nice view of the coast from her room; their home sat atop a hill just past Whitby Abbey, giving her a perfect view from her bedroom window. She drew back her long violet drapes, letting in the light, only to then find two green eyes staring back at her. “Jinx!” She exclaimed, grabbing the little black kitten and sitting him on her lap, stroking his head affectionately. “You scared me, you little devil,” she cooed, getting a little ‘mew’ in return. The kitten had been a gift for her birthday, a black cat of course, whom - after many votes from several family members - she named Jinxy (a close second was Styx, suggested by Wednesday, after the Damnéd River of Souls). He had silky soft fur and the most brilliant green eyes, and (Y/N) absolutely loved him. “Are you excited to come to Hogwarts with me?” She mumbled into the top of his head as she peppered him with little kisses, “At least I’ll have one familiar face there,” she whispered, pulling him closer as the heavy pit in her stomach grew. She’d never been away from home before, not for so long at least; she was beyond anxious, but she was an Addams, she’d be fine. Surely.

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Let me know if you want to be tagged (or if I miss-tagged you). :)

#harry potter crossover #harry potter golden era x reader #x addams!reader #yn addams #harry potter addams family crossover #addams family x reader #Addams family x Addams!reader #harry potter #x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter au #the curious misadventures of y/n addams

[gamerbearmira]

HELLO I AM BACK! So sorry for being gone so long I got busy with work and my sister had a baby so I've been super busy but I am back now so... BABY MIRA PART 4!

'Casita did this?!' the feeling of betrayal was overwhelming to Mirabel as she wailed in the crook of her papis shoulder ignoring the way her abuela started to argue with Casita getting no response also ignoring when her mama started to argue with her abuela for being so loud. Casita was one of her closest family members and to hear from her own tiles that she did this HURT. Mirabel didn't understand why? Why would Casita do this to her? Did she not like her anymore? Did she ever like her? Did Casita want her to be different from how she was? What did she do to deserve this?!

"Oh Miraboo its ok Papi's here everything is going to be ok Casita... Casita is bringing food and then you'll be full and then we can go back to sleep you must be so tired Mi pequeña mariposa." Her father says all this in a hushed voice and he starts bouncing and swaying slightly trying to soothe her. The combo makes her stop crying as hard but she was still whimpering 'No, No sleep I need answers! I need-'

"CASITA YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DID THIS!" it seems her abuela has lost all patients as her anger yell cuts through her internal ranting before it really started. The loud noise makes her flinch and she starts to cry softly she feels her papi start rubbing her back as well as the bounce/sway movement he has going comforts her in a way she can't really understand but she stops crying and stops whimpering "Mama I know you're angry but lower your voice you're scaring Mirabel!" Her Mama hisses at her abuela clearly near the end of her own patience.

before her abuela can respond the sound of rushing tiles pushing something can be heard and at the still open door is a serving tray with a bottle of milk it's pushed forward and Casita claps her tiles together saying 'there we are! food for mi pequeña mariposa especial!' Casita pushes the serving tray towards her mama who is right next to abuela near the door as she got closer to her when she started to argue with her about her volume. Mirabel isn't paying attention to that though. She is paying attention to what Casita just said, what Casita just called her, her special little butterfly.... Casita has never given nicknames before.... So Casita does like her? She isn't disappointed and doesn't wants her to change who she is? Then why do this? Why make her restart her life all over again!

Before she could think about it any longer she feels herself being passed from her Papi shoulder to her Mama cradled arms with a rusty ease that showed that though it has been years they never truly forgot how to take care of their baby. Before she can really register the change in position and start crying (why she doesn't know but she's been doing a lot of things for reasons that are unknown to her sooo...) she finds the bottle in her mouth in a rush and a small bit of warm milk in her mouth she finds herself sucking it down on instinct just now realizing how hungry she was. She finishes the bottle quickly almost too quickly causing her to spit up on her mama a little bit as she almost choked herself "oh Mira I'm so sorry you must have been so hungry." Her Mama sounds a little upset but it's not like she knew her youngest would turn into a baby and need to be fed every few hours.

"What do you mean you did it Casita?" She hears her abuela ask Casita in a forceful and angry tone. Casita wastes no time to respond this time

'I mean I used some of the power given to me to undo the mistakes of that." She gestures to the candle with a wooden plank from the door 'Idiot who thinks it's a good idea to hide important information from people. Like the fact that Mirabel apparently does have a gift! Which it still won't tell me what it is!' there's a small angry rumble from the tiles in front of the door they stop after a moment and perk up a bit 'But I have made it agree to a redo! Yes a redo is exactly what we need!' the tiles clap happily together like Casita has just revealed something wonderful. There's a moment of still silence as the ones who can understand what was said soak in what was just relayed to them. Her abuela looks from the tiles to the candle shock on her face opening and closing her mouth unable to say a word.

'I have a gift......' the thought brought Mirabel a tingling feeling all over like butterflies kissing her skin, like ants crawling all over and biting her, like ice and fire coming together to create a burning cold that hurt and soothed all at once 'I have a gift.... Or had? What is my gift! Does it not count now that I'm a baby? Do I have the gift now?' the thoughts were confusing and it all was hard to wrap her head around. This whole situation is confusing and overwhelming and hard to wrap her head around honestly. Her mama starts rocking her slightly, anxious by her own mama's behavior she hears her mama start to ask her abuela what was said but with her belly full and the night's activities the act of rocking quickly starts to lull Mirabel to sleep. Right as she closes her eyes she looks over to the candle and sees in the smoke two little words. Two little words that she's waited 10 years for from that candle.

'I'm sorry.'

OMG HIIIIIIII I MISSED YOU <333

Really I did. Hope you’re doing well and taking a rest from work AND CONGRATS ON THE NEW BABAY⁉️⁉️⁉️

Ok so i read it. SO COOL OMG <3 Ngl I can kinda understand why Alma is yelling, I mean it’s a pretty stressful situation and no one’s clued in BUT then again, you can’t go around screaming. With a baby present, in the middle of the night no less. Aside from that, shout to Julieta and Agustín. They’ve managed to (somewhat) keep it together. Personally, I’d break down crying in confusion 💀

Also Mirabel was so lost. Handling emotions she couldn’t even control. And then they shoved a bottle in her mouth, but you know, she was full and it made her quiet down so whatever. She was probably relieved when Casita didn’t randomly start hating her. And then. The candle. Mf in a redemption arc (as far as I can tell) and I’m all for it.

CAN’T WAIT TO SEE MORE (if you have more <3) RAHHHHHH‼️‼️‼️

Mirabel to Casita:

#my asks are open #my asks #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto alma #encanto julieta #encanto agustín #de aged mirabel au #de aged mirabel

[devonsbuckethat]

“A kiss for your thoughts?”

Devon x gn!reader

cw: fluff, lots of fluff

The daisy mart was nearing its closing hours, some kids lingered around for a bit talking amongst themselves. It was pretty calm around there, no loud distractions, no nothing.

Or well that was until a woman and her daughter came in

‘Ding dong’

The chime of the entrance doors played as the woman speed-walked her way up to the boy behind the register as she immediately pointed towards him. “You!” the boy fell back into his chair as he lazily stared back at the mother's finger.

“What have you done to my mei mei?!”

“Uh…who?” the boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as to what was being said right now.

That was until a curly haired boy spoke up showing where this “mei mei” actually was “Meilin Lee right here!” as he pointed, the dreaded look on her face could’ve made anyone cringe a bit.

“I should report you to the police! How old are you?!”

“Uh…17” he didn’t even flinch or anything when he heard her threat, the same calm, yet confused look plastered all over his face. At this point, the kids who were talking with each other began to huddle around the 2.

“Oh! See, this is what happens when you don’t wear sunblock and do drugs all day! She’s just a sweet innocent child, how dare you take advantage of her.” She brushed off her green coat as she pulled out some papers from the inside pocket.

“Mom! No!” The black haired girl screamed as she tried to stop her mother from revealing the papers, which showed drawings no one would want to see. The kids in the shop all gasped at what was revealed as they surrounded the now in shock boy.

“What?!”

The whole shop began to erupt in laughter after what was just shown, mei had bright pink cheeks as so many people were laughing at her, but what was even worse was seeing the boy holding the papers give her a direct stare as he cringed from what he was seeing. She just wanted to run away and never look back after the scene that just played out.

“The daisy mart has lost a loyal customer!” The woman said before turning around pushing her and her daughter out of the store, the boy casually took the papers and threw them in the trash as he sat back down and just let his head hit the front counter, not wanting to deal with what just happened.

Eventually he lifted his head back up and saw some people leaving, “finally…” he muttered under his breath. The rest finally left as he packed up and closed for the night, he pulled his phone out and opened up his messages as the top contact said

loml 🖤

“babe you awake?”

A few seconds passed as a text bubble appeared indicating to him that they were typing

“just watching television waiting for you <3”

His face lit up with a soft smile as his walk back to his apartment came to an end when he put his key into the lock and opened up to a dark house with only some dim lights in the kitchen and television illuminated the room. Y/n turned from under the blanket on the couch to their boyfriend walking inside, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to stay awake.

Y/n pulled the blanket off as they got up to stretch their body while walking to their boyfriend, “long day, Dev?” Devon hummed an affirming tune to let them know they were correct, y/n pulled Devon into a hug and began to sway back and forth.

Devon wrapped his arms around them melting into their touch, “thanks for this” he said, y/n feeling his grin grow as he rested his head in their neck, they moved their head to look at his face “a kiss for your thoughts?” y/n spoke as Devon smiled as he grabbed their hand and intertwine one another’s fingers before giving them a delicate kiss.

The two walked to the couch and laid their heads on each other before Devon finally spoke up, “some crazy lady accused me of harassing her daughter or something” y/n’s eyes furrowed in confusion, “why?” “Her kid drew me? I was pretty freaked out, you had to have been there, honestly.”

Y/n slightly tugged Devon towards the couch as they carefully took his bucket hat off and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. “Well too bad for that girl because I got to you just a little faster than her” they said pulling on his waist bringing him closer.

Devon lifted his head off of y/n’s shoulder to give them a quick look with a soft yet tired grin on his face before he gave a soft kiss to y/n. And a few soft kisses started turning into longer, rougher kisses, which ended when the two were regaining all the air they didn’t breathe in the whole time.

Devon was on top of y/n at this point while y/n had their arms wrapped around his body, Devon’s head laying in the crook of y/n’s neck as he rested while the two cuddled on the couch passing out together almost immediately.

#devon turning red x male reader #turning red #devon turning red #x male reader #x reader #x gn reader #underrated af #fluff #cuddles #turning red devon #why is there not more fics on devon??? #turning red x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader insert #gn reader insert #pixar turning red

[jingyismom]

Time for more sex-cursed Lan Wangji!

a messy, self-indulgent spree imported from twt and lightly edited

explicit, wangxian, 9k, canon divergence fix-it

mild dubcon because of the nature of sex curses (but like, they do their best to communicate around it), and cw for brief thoughts of self harm, no other warnings

This curse's origin is mysterious, perhaps politically guided. Someone is trying to throttle Gusu Lan's alliance prospects by removing Lan Wangji's stellar marriageability after Sunshot. It works, after a fashion.

Wei Wuxian is in the Burial Mounds, farming and hardening his heart as the resentment worsens his health, subsisting on memories of Lan Wangji's single visit.

Lan Wangji is at home in Gusu, pining away while they rebuild the Cloud Recesses.

One day, he begins to burn up with unexplained fever.

The healers examine him quickly and thoroughly and determine first that he's been cursed. This is not entirely shocking, but it of course angers the entire sect. Next they test for the curse's nature. It turns out to be a very classic, very coarse type of love curse.

The afflicted will burn up, losing all their sense and senses, and eventually die, if their body's “needs” are not satisfied by the one it craves most.

The healers are disgusted. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren are outraged. But Lan Wangji becomes very calm at the news.

Before, he felt anxiety. The urgent desperation of a dying man waiting to be told how to live.

Now he is just waiting to die.

For you see, the choice between throwing himself at another human being—no matter who they may be—and meeting death with dignity, is an easy one.

Everyone else privy to this information disagrees. The argument that follows is short, but heated:

"Well, Wangji?" Lan Qiren begins once the initial furor has died down. "How do you wish to...go about this?"

Lan Wangji, over-warm and aching, looks up at him from the examination bed. Gusu Lan funeral rites are ancient and immutable. He does not understand the question.

Lan Qiren purses his lips and glances around. "We must find the person first," he prompts.

Ah. The person responsible. Yes, Lan Wangji does have business with them before he dies. He stands, only swaying slightly. "I am well enough to exact justice. Let us cast the rebound."

Lan Xichen steps forward then, and gently pushes him back to sitting. "It has been cast. However, justice can wait. Your health must come first."

Lan Wangji looks between his uncle, his brother, and the one doctor allowed to be present. Surely they would not be joking at a time like this.

"I do not understand," he says.

The three exchange a look. "Breaking the curse must be our priority," says Lan Xichen.

Lan Wangji is not sure he heard correctly. But it would be cruel to give him unfounded hope. "I was unaware there was another way."

"...There is not," says Lan Xichen, his gentleness unfailing.

Lan Wangji experiences a moment of deep confusion before the horror sets in.

"You cannot mean this," he says through his shock. "Surely you cannot mean to cast aside so many disciplines at the whim of a base villain."

"The disciplines are a guide," Lan Qiren says, hands behind his back, looking into the distance, "to ensure a life well-lived. They are not meant to inspire martyrdom."

Lan Wangji's mouth falls open. He stares at his uncle, mute with betrayal. He has never heard of any such leeway before, not in regards to disciplines of such a serious nature.

"You can understand, can't you?" Lan Xichen says. "That no rule is more important than your life.”

Lan Wangji disagrees vehemently. "I would not buy my life with such behavior."

Lan Qiren huffs in irritation. "We may perform a marriage in haste, if you wish."

Lan Wangji balks at him. That his uncle should speak so flippantly of...such a thing. It is unimaginable. And besides, forcing a marriage on Wei—on anyone in this way is surely only adding insult to heinous injury.

"I refuse," he says.

Lan Xichen exchanges a look with the doctor, and sits beside him. "Perhaps the other person should be allowed part of that choice."

Ridiculous. "There is no such person." Preventing this course of action is worth one lie, Lan Wangji reasons.

"With respect, Hanguang-jun, if that were true, the curse would not have been able to take hold," says the doctor.

The use of his title feels uncomfortably ironic from a woman who helped deliver him at birth. He glares at her. She smiles tiredly in return.

"Wangji," Lan Xichen says. His tone is beginning to grate on Lan Wangji's raw nerves. "You will at least try, won't you?"

Lan Wangji stares at him in disbelief, in anger, in righteous indignation.

"Never," he says.

A hand slaps his shoulder. "Apologies," says the doctor, and the world goes dark.

-----

Lan Wangji wakes to dark wood beams dappled by lacy sunlight, and a faint smell of char in the air. His head is heavy, his limbs full of lead. He swallows around the dry thickness in his throat.

"Water," comes a familiar voice.

With effort, Lan Wangji sits up. His stomach is roiling, his mind fogged from the coma and the curse both. The doctor, crouching beside him in the carriage, offers him a bowl of water.

He takes it, and asks, "What have you done?"

She sighs.

"My duty," she says, "with the help of your brother."

She draws back the curtain at the carriage entrance, revealing a sea of black, twisted trees and gray tumbled walls.

Lan Wangji's blood freezes in his veins. He just barely stops himself from asking how they knew.

"Why," he asks instead, a much safer question.

She considers him. "Your brother said if he was wrong, he would beg forgiveness afterward. But it couldn't hurt to have an expert in resentment and curses look at you anyway."

A stab of sick embarrassment makes Lan Wangji’s stomach clench.

Has he been so obvious? Is he such a lovesick fool that anyone with eyes can see his shame?

The doctor pats his shoulder gruffly and he flinches, expecting more needles.

"Ah he's your brother, he's bound to know things you don't want him to," she says. "Come on. Out you get."

He allows her to tug him out of the carriage and onto solid ground. The air is stifling with resentment, but he is glad to be free of his bonds. Now he can look for his chance to get away.

There are six Lan disciples flanking them. He eyes them warily, wondering what they know. When the doctor pulls him out of earshot, and pitches her voice low, he is satisfied that they have not been fully informed.

"Your family and I agreed to give you a chance first," she says. "You have 24 hours to take care of this yourself. After that, I will personally tell Wei-gongzi of your brother's message. I have been assured he will not jeopardize your well-being if fully-informed."

Lan Wangji gapes at her. He does not know what he expected to happen, but it was not this...this...mercenary attempt at...forcing...

The curse has weakened him such that he cannot fly his sword. He can hardly walk in a straight line, let alone run. He has very little recourse now that everyone in his life has gone absolutely mad. His heart is racing with the adrenaline of upheaval, of fear, of impending death.

He wrenches his arm from her grasp and stalks off of the road, into the brush. She calls after him, but he does not mean to escape. He cannot manage that alone. Instead, he sits. He takes a deep breath. He sinks into meditation.

"Hanguang-jun," she calls. She approaches, hands on her hips. She sighs. "Well, if it's like that, then there's nothing stopping me from telling him right now."

She turns, and Lan Wangji feels a lurch of helplessness, when a new voice rings clear through the fog.

"Tell what to whom?"

Lan Wangji's eyes snap open. Wei Wuxian is standing on the other side of the carriage, the child A-Yuan in his arms, eyeing the Lan delegation with suspicion. Wen Ning is with him, and the Lan disciples shift nervously just looking at him, but Wei Wuxian sets A-Yuan in his arms, and he leaps away up the mountain.

"Might I assume this little party has come for me?" Wei Wuxian goes on, twirling his flute. His eyes are shrewd and cold, similar to the way they had looked when he had first returned during the war.

At the sight of him, at the sound of his voice, the curse...reacts.

A horrid, uncomfortable shiver of need runs through Lan Wangji's body alongside his own simple relief and joy at seeing Wei Wuxian again, looking relatively well. He fights it, keeping still among the weeds, hoping against hope to go unnoticed.

"Yiling Laozu," the doctor greets him with a deep bow. "We have indeed come to humbly beg your aid."

"I see," he says. "And what will you give me in return?"

The doctor hesitates, clearly discomfited by the context Wei Wuxian is currently unaware of. "We may...discuss that. Once we have informed you of the details."

Wei Wuxian hums, considering. Cold. Detached. "And if I am disinclined to—"

He breaks off. The doctor has moved so that she and Lan Wangji are both in Wei Wuxian's line of sight. Lan Wangji closes his eyes rather than see the moment of recognition, rather than feel the weight of Wei Wuxian's eyes on him, like this.

"Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji clamps his jaw shut. It is a struggle not simply to crawl to him.

The renewed ice in Wei Wuxian's voice when next he speaks makes Lan Wangji aware of the warmth with which he had said his name. His curls his shaking hands into fists on his knees.

"What have you done to him?"

The doctor sighs. "We have done nothing. He has been cursed, which is why we brought him here. If you—"

"Daifu," Lan Wangji interrupts, his voice thin.

She stops speaking.

Lan Wangji opens his eyes, but does not look at Wei Wuxian, not yet. If he is careful, and uses his remaining strength correctly, he can perhaps...perhaps guide the situation. Toward escape. With Wei Wuxian's help.

He may have to lie to him. He hopes he will be forgiven, all things considered.

Lan Wangji stands slowly, carefully, considering each movement so as not to reveal the state he is in.

"I will speak with him," he says to the doctor.

She eyes him. "24 hours," she says.

He does not acknowledge this. He thinks they both know it will not come to that, though his idea differs greatly from hers. He judges, from the time they have allotted and his own weakness, that he has perhaps a day and a half, total, to wait them out. Doable, if he is careful and intelligent about it.

He can manage.

He walks over to Wei Wuxian, careful to keep two arm's lengths between them. This close is already too close: a fine, constant tremor has made a home in all of his tightly-locked muscles. He feels the moment his fever begins to rise further. The sides of his throat hurt, the interiors of his ears. He wonders if his hearing will go first, or his eyes.

"Allow me to explain," he says to him.

"Of course," Wei Wuxian answers.

He sounds strange. Cold, still. Lan Wangji wants to look at him, and almost slips, but manages to stop himself. He follows him up the hill, past the wards, through the resentment that clings to them both, now. He keeps his careful distance, following behind.

"What happened?" Wei Wuxian asks, as they walk.

"A curse," Lan Wangji says carefully. "Origin unknown. The rebound has been cast. I did not wish to burden you with this, but they are...they will not listen to reason. Wei Ying, if you would but help me, I would deal with this on my own."

"Oh?"

"I...wish to seek justice. They will not allow it. But you understand. If there is another path off the mountain, if you would show me the way past them, I could—"

Wei Wuxian stops dead, and Lan Wangji, with his eyes in the ground, runs into him. 

For a blazing, agonizing moment, he is touching Wei Wuxian, clinging to him, every element in his body sighing and crying out at once in satisfaction, in the torturous need for more.

He tears himself away, stumbling back, almost falling. Wei Wuxian reaches out as if to catch him, but falters.

"Lan Zhan, you can hardly stand," he says, alarmed, "and you want to go and fight someone?"

Lan Wangji draws himself up taller again, trying hard to stop his shaking. He cannot look at him. He cannot look. He is already dying, now, just from not looking. "It is my right."

"...It is..." Wei Wuxian says at length, watching him closely. "And it still will be once you're well again. Your doctors really couldn't tell what type of curse it is?"

Lan Wangji says nothing, trying to think past the way every inch of his skin feels as if it is burning clean off. The pain of it screams through him, worse than anything he has ever felt. Wei Wuxian is still speaking, but it is hard to make sense of it. When Wei Wuxian begins walking again, slowly, it is all he can do to both follow and stay away from him. This, here, now, is worse than death. If it lasts, he certainly will not be sane when the end finally comes. He lets go of any thoughts of a dignified death.

Fortunately, by the time they reach the cool dark of the cave Wei Wuxian calls home, the pain has subsided to a distant roar. Unfortunately, he hoped never to reach this point. He tries his only play again, unable to think of any new tactic.

"Please show me the way off the mountain," he says without preamble.

Wei Wuxian is quiet for a beat. "You really don't want my help that much?"

Lan Wangji is so confused by this question, and then struck by the irony of it, that he almost begins to laugh. A shivery, jittery feeling fills his chest, and he leans against the nearest solid surface. He wishes he were wearing a loose outer layer over his blue travel robes, the better to hide his shaking. He does not know how to respond.

"You haven't so much as looked at me once since you got here," Wei Wuxian goes on, digging through strange pots and objects on a table, "so I get it. But you'll have to forgive me if I disregard your objection to the kind of work I do, when it comes to your life."

"My life, my life," Lan Wangji mocks, accidentally out loud. Why is everyone suddenly so obsessed with his life? He was ready to give it freely in the war, but chance let him keep it. What difference does giving it now in the name of keeping himself clean of shame make? Why will nobody allow him this choice?

"What shame?" Wei Wuxian asks.

Lan Wangji buckles at the realization that he has said all of this out loud. He goes to the floor, to his knees.

"Nothing," he says. "The shame of not having warded off such a simple attack."

"Lan Zhan...you want to die because you didn't defend against a curse you didn't know was coming?"

Lan Wangji lapses into silence. He has said too much already. He does not know how to get out of this. He can only...he can only stay quiet. Refuse to speak or move.

"Lan Zhan...I feel like I'm missing something here. I only want to help.”

Lan Wangji grits his teeth and stares hard at the floor in front of him. He has rarely ever felt so trapped, so utterly helpless. The extended, full-body pain is dulling his mind by the moment. The hems of Wei Wuxian's robes come into view, and it takes everything in him not to fall forward into him, to plead, to beg. His breath is hitching at random intervals now, his heart tripping as it prepares to fail entirely.

There is a soft gust of air, and an odd prickling sensation across his face.

"Now let's see—oh," Wei Wuxian says. "I...oh."

Lan Wangji wilts at his stilted, awkward tone. He knows now, surely. Can see him truly.

"So that's why you want to leave, and why they won't let you. They want me to find another way to break it, to stop you from...ah."

Lan Wangji sorts through the words, trying to comprehend them.

"Sorry," Wei Wuxian goes on. "I...it's unbreakable, otherwise. A very old, airtight spell. You...will Gusu Lan start a war with me if I do just let you go...ah, handle this the old-fashioned way?"

Comprehension dawns. And with it, a way out.

Lan Wangji rushes to agree. "They—" He cuts off. Will they? If they think Wei Wuxian has willingly let him die, rather than...

He takes a breath. Another. Forces his mind past the endless litany of pleas for relief.

"Show me the way " he says, his words breathless and short, "and then tell Lan-daifu what you have done. And why. But give me time to. Get away. And you will be safe."

Wei Wuxian pauses. "How...ah. How far—how much time?"

Lan Wangji tries hard to come up with an answer for that. His progress will be slow. But he need only find a place to hide.

"Half a day," he hazards.

Wei Wuxian seems to vacillate. "Are you sure you can make it on your own?"

Lan Wangji wants to rage. To weep. To curse himself to the heavens for being so depraved toward so endlessly kind a man. His heart hurts, even as his body strains toward him.

This lie may be the worst he will ever tell.

"I will be fine,” he says.

"Alright." Wei Wuxian sounds unconvinced. "I trust you."

Lan Wangji nearly convulses, holding back a sob. How will he ever be forgiven?

He cannot think of it. Only this, only what comes next. Only keeping Wei Wuxian safe from this mess.

"Lan Zhan?"

"Mn," he manages.

"Would you look at me, now? I haven't...used any demonic cultivation on you. It's safe, I promise I won't. I just. Can't we say goodbye properly?"

Lan Wangji has not moved from the floor. He does not move. He should try. A parting gift. Just one look.

But if he is going to leave. If he is going to succeed. He cannot.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says again, frustrated now.

Lan Wangji does not look. He is so close to freedom from the horrible pull, from the way his very veins are trying to tear themselves free to wrap around Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian steps forward, and Lan Wangji's breath leaves him all at once. Suddenly, there are fingers beneath his jaw, kind but firm, tilting his chin up. He has no choice but to look.

(Inspired by this art.)

Wei Wuxian is there. Tall and strong and perfect, tiredness mixed with something bittersweet on his lovely face. Lan Wangji's entire being melts toward him, a deep, sharp tug from inside his bones, a mindless, helpless, straining need that pushes a low, wanting sound from his throat.

Wei Wuxian snatches his hand away and backs up half a step, staring at him.

"Sorry," he says, blank. Confused. "I thought it was...I didn't realize...sorry."

Lan Wangji, now that he has looked, cannot look away. He has overbalanced without Wei Wuxian's support, fallen forward onto his hands, but he cannot stop looking at him. He will look at him, and keep looking; he prays Wei Wuxian is the last thing he sees before he dies.

The most shameful part of this is that none of it is the curse twisting his thoughts. None of this is. All the curse is doing is making the way he always feels impossible to ignore.

"Wei Ying," his voice implores. He does not mean it to.

Wei Wuxian takes another step back and looks down at the bowl of powder in his hand, confused. "I was certain it was that curse," he says to himself. "If I was wrong, then maybe I could break it..."

Lan Wangji tries to scrape his composure back together. He tries. He tries. His fingers scrape on the rough stone floor. He does not reach out for him. That is something.

Wei Wuxian looks at him again, then hastily away. Lan Wangji does not ever want to know what it is he sees.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, as Lan Wangji shakes, and shakes. "Where...where were you trying to go? I thought you...I thought you were, ah, thinking of a certain someone."

Lan Wangji's arms are weak. They are going to give out. He cannot answer him.

"I'm confused, and I...may have made a mistake," Wei Wuxian goes on, still backing away slowly, "but I just want to help. Can you tell me what was happening before, and what's happening now?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head, and the motion shatters his fragile balance. He falls, and curls tightly around himself in the dirt.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian says, suddenly close.

Lan Wangji sees his hand reach out, then pause, and he can't stop himself from taking hold of it, just to be touching him. His body screams for it, and he gasps raggedly at the contact.

Wei Wuxian wrenches his arm free. Lan Wangji wishes he were dead.

"Fuck," Wei Wuxian mutters to himself. "I...I'm sorry. I made this so much worse, I..."

"No," Lan Wangji rasps. He cannot hear Wei Wuxian berate himself thus. His dignity has now died, and he himself will soon follow. This is all that matters. "Not your fault."

Wei Wuxian huffs, crouching beside him. "It is...at least partially my fault, at this point, I'm pretty sure. You wouldn't be...reacting. Like this. If it weren't. Is...can I...do a few more tests? To check what I got wrong, and maybe—"

"You were not wrong."

He does not mean to say it.

His need to reassure has overridden his sense, and his mind is too slow now to piece together what it will mean before it leaves his mouth. The regret once it does is instantaneous. He tries to curl himself yet smaller in the dirt.

Wei Wuxian is silent. Lan Wangji cannot stop making small, pitiful, pained sounds in the back of his throat. Everything hurts. Everything.

"I don't understand," Wei Wuxian says quietly.

Lan Wangji lies shivering on the floor, arms locked around himself to prevent any more untoward behavior. He cannot take it back. He cannot try to explain. There is nothing he could say, regardless.

"Lan Zhan...but you..."

He can hear Wei Wuxian thinking, but it only registers in the far back of his mind. The rest of his consciousness is taken up by pain, and by ruthless restraint.

"You wanted to leave to get away from me," Wei Wuxian says, finally.

Lan Wangji does not answer. He wishes he had his sword. He would use it now to end this.

Wei Wuxian begins to back away again, and Lan Wangji’s body moves without his permission. He grips the skirt of Wei Wuxian’s robes in his fist and drags himself closer, pressing his cheek to Wei Wuxian's knee.

Shameful. Wanton. The small part of himself that is still aware berates the action. But he cannot let go. He cannot move away. The only part of him that is not howling with pain is the side of his face pressed to coarse fabric.

"Lan Zhan, you…," Wei Wuxian is trying to gently pry Lan Wangji's fingers from his hem. "You wanted to leave, remember? You don't want...you don't."

"Want," Lan Wangji croaks, pressing closer. "Wanted to spare you."

"Ah, Lan Zhan...I...I'm still not sure it's that specific curse, it could...there could be other..."

"It is," Lan Wangji says, half-crawling up Wei Wuxian's leg. He wants to stop himself. It is impossible.

"Lan Zhan...you...you shouldn't—"

"Stop me," Lan Wangji pleads, nuzzling against Wei Wuxian's thigh, "Wei Ying, I can't...please. Stop me."

There is a long near-silence filled with harsh breaths, in which Lan Wangji is almost certain he imagines the light touch of fingers brushing his mussed hair back from his forehead. Then Wei Wuxian speaks.

"No," he says. "You'll die, if I do. Lan Zhan. I won't let that happen."

He touches Lan Wangji's face. Lan Wangji whimpers into him.

He knows this will break the fragile repairs they have made to their friendship. He will likely never see him again, at least not on good terms. The thought makes him feel ill. He should protest. Refuse. Flee. He can do exactly none of these things. He reaches for Wei Wuxian's wrist, to hold his hand to his face, but Wei Wuxian flinches away.

"You can't...Lan Zhan. I'm going to help you," he says, "but you have to...you can't...you can't touch me."

Lan Wangji feels another tight clench of shame. He nods against his leg. He understands: he knows any small part of this is too much to ask, let alone bearing his unwelcome, curse-fevered grasping.

"Okay," says Wei Wuxian. He slides his fingers beneath Lan Wangji’s chin again, tipping his face up.

He looks so uncertain. So beautiful in the dim light. Lan Wangji wants to weep with it.

"Lan Zhan, I know it doesn't count for much like this, but you have to tell me. You have to tell me what you need."

Lan Wangji turns his head, pressing his face between Wei Wuxian's thigh and stomach, trying to reach into him, to feel more of him, to stop hurting just enough to think. It does not work.

"You," he breathes, into the scent of earth, and stringent soap, and Wei Wuxian.

A harsh, uneven breath ghosts across his hair, and Wei Wuxian's hands grip his shoulders. He thinks he is about to be pushed away again, but instead Wei Wuxian pulls him up, pulls him close, folds him into his embrace.

Lan Wangji sobs into his shoulder, trying at once to get closer and to hold himself apart, instinct demanding, even now, that he try to conceal his obvious, disgraceful hardness. His muscles quake under the strain of doing both and neither, and Wei Wuxian smooths one hand down his back, pressing him close, pressing them flush. Lan Wangji chokes back a shocked sound.

"Shh," Wei Wuxian soothes. "It's alright."

It is not alright. It is the end of the thing Lan Wangji holds most dear.

But he does not have it in him to argue. He is shifting against him, his overheated body begging for touch, indeed for ravishment. He is mindless with it. The pain is not subsiding but slipping sideways into something more, something different, something necessary.

He is on his knees on hard stone, breathlessly held in the arms of his beloved. He has dreamt this: sweetly, hazily, with and without hope. But never like this. Never sick with remorse, with need, dying and demanding and defiling. His deepest desire twisted into a nightmare.

He whimpers again, his lips finding the soft coolness of Wei Wuxian's throat. Wei Wuxian jerks away again, and Lan Wangji fists his hands tighter at his sides, trying, trying not to overstep again.

"I—sorry," he gasps out. He will never be able to apologize enough. But he will try.

"Don't apologize," says Wei Wuxian. "I—"

He cuts himself off. Lan Wangji does not have enough sense to wonder why. In the same moment, one of his thighs gives under the strain, and he falls against him heavily. They tip over, to the floor, and he reaches out on instinct to brace them both. When he is again conscious of himself, Wei Wuxian is lying on top of him, breathing hard, both of Lan Wangji's wrists pinned to the floor in one hand. Lan Wangji arches against him inadvertently, and turns his face into his own bicep.

"Sorry, I...so sorry," he pants, his hips flexing, searching for friction. "I have...no control...”

"I know," Wei Wuxian says, "I know, I shouldn't have..." he swallows hard. "I'm going to keep you like this. Can I?"

Lan Wangji nods frantically, his eyes shut tight. He does not care. Anything that he can do to make this any less invasive for Wei Wuxian, he will do.

Wei Wuxian pulls away then, his hold still firm on Lan Wangji's wrists. Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut and tries to stop moving, to stop searching for touch, to stop making such a disgusting spectacle of himself, but to no avail. What feels like centuries later, he hears the telltale sounds of talisman activation. He is too far gone in his pain to look up, to see what they are. He simply lies there, pinned and writhing, his breath catching in his throat. The sounds it makes are small, pitiful, desperate.

Just like him.

Eventually, Wei Wuxian leans back over him, a considering look in his eye. His hand hovers at Lan Wangjis belt.

"I—should I..."

"Yes," pleads Lan Wangji.

He needs Wei Wuxian's skin on his skin. He does not know how discerning the curse is about what happens now, but it feels as if he will die without it. Wei Wuxian takes what looks like a fortifying breath and unties the belt. Lan Wangji, unable to help, instead hinders the process with his ceaseless movement. But Wei Wuxian manages it with deft hands, and immediately unties each layer of robes in quick succession until Lan Wangji’s chest and stomach are bare.

The cool air of the cave does not soothe his burning. It burns like ice instead. Lan Wangji shivers, an ugly whine escaping him.

"What," Wei Wuxian asks, pausing, "what is it?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head. He will bear it. He will not make demands.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, "you need to talk to me, I...I don't want to make this even worse, or, or draw it out longer."

Something small and dark crumples in Lan Wangji's chest. He does not want that either. He will need to speak. To ask.

"Hurts," he says, rough and thick.

"Where?"

"...Not...not touching me."

Wei Wuxian makes a distressed noise and lays both his palms flat over Lan Wangji's ribs. Lan Wangji groans, pressing up into them.

"Please," he whispers, helpless. "Please."

"Oh, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian murmurs, something sad like regret. He leans closer and slides one hand down. Lan Wangji shudders under him. "I'm just going to..."

Lan Wangji nods again, holding his breath to stop the whines from escaping the back of his throat.

Wei Wuxian unties Lan Wangji's trousers and slips his hand inside. Clever fingers wrap hesitantly around him, and he bucks up into them with an obscene moan. It is minor relief from the most consuming pain he has ever felt, and it is simultaneously the most intense pleasure he has ever experienced. All of these sensations, coexisting in his fallible human body, feel likely to rip him apart.

"Wei Ying," he moans again, when Wei Wuxian moves his hand.

He gasps for air, his body twisting into it, his whole being searching for Wei Wuxian. He makes another piteous sound, the torment of it all overwhelming. Wei Wuxian leans down against him then, his own robes open, pressing them skin to skin.

Lan Wangji sobs. It is something. It is something. The pain abates somewhat, and he sighs, turning toward him, his mouth brushing Wei Wuxian's hair. He has the wherewithal now to fight the urge to kiss his head properly, his face, anything he can reach. He holds himself still beneath him instead. And Wei Wuxian touches him, and touches him. The incomprehensible pleasure builds, and builds, until Lan Wangji cannot breathe. But it does not break.

Something almost like soft lips brushes his throat.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says into his ear, "this, is this...will this be enough?"

The pleasure is just another kind of pain, now. Lan Wangji shakes his head as sweat rolls off of him, as he tries and fails to get enough air to speak.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat. "What, then?"

Lan Wangji's body knows what it needs. But he does not want to tell.

"Come on, Lan Zhan, after all this? Don't get shy on me now."

He misses the joking tone he is aiming for, but the pure, unmistakable Wei Wuxian-ness of the tease sends a surge of genuine desire through Lan Wangji. He wraps his legs around Wei Wuxian's hips and pulls him down. Wei Wuxian breathes in sharply.

"You just...you want...but only..."

"Please," says Lan Wangji, barely voiced. "In—" he cannot say it. "Please."

"Ah," Wei Wuxian whispers, into his skin. "If—are you sure?"

Lan Wangji whines. He wishes he were not so very sure. He wishes he were not asking Wei Wuxian to do something so intimate, so extreme. He wishes Wei Wuxian had let him die before it ever came to this.

"Alright Lan Zhan, just hold—hold on," he says, and is gone.

Lan Wangji clamps his mouth shut on a scream as the agony slams back into him, worse even than before.

Not soon enough, Wei Wuxian returns to divest him of his boots, socks and trousers. Lan Wangji fights him without meaning to, trying to keep his knees curled up to his chest, trying to minimize the hurt. Wei Wuxian is briskly patient, handling him with aching care he does not deserve.

And then he is upon him, chest and stomach, hips and thighs, smooth and hard and exquisite. Lan Wangji almost forgets the pain in the rush of gratitude, of solace. Their robes trail off them both, gathering dust as they move together in halting fits and starts.

"Don't let me hurt you, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian grits out, a strong hand lifting one of Lan Wangji's thighs by the back of the knee.

It is nonsense. He could not hurt Lan Wangji any more than this. And Lan Wangji could not stop him now if he did.

But the kindness. Even in this. Tears prick at Lan Wangji's eyes. He will miss him. He will miss all of Wei Wuxian with all of himself. He will never stop missing him. He will never move past this regret as long as he lives. How could he? Every breath he draws will be by the grace of Wei Wuxian.

Suddenly there is slick pressure against him, against his most private of places, and he gasps, loud and wretched. Wei Wuxian exhales, uneven and deep, and pushes in, in, in. Slowly. So slowly. Lan Wangji bites down hard on his lip to keep from begging for it. His arms are pinned, as are his hips, Wei Wuxian holding him steady, holding him still. Lan Wangji loses all sense. There is only the weight of Wei Wuxian, the full, stinging press of him, the searing pain, the devastating euphoria of being this close, and yet so very far in every way that counts.

Ages pass before Wei Wuxian is fully seated inside him. By then Lan Wangji's breaths are wet and shallow; scraping, desolate things. He does not know any longer what hurts and what feels good. It is all one and the same. He only knows he needs more, in some primal, wordless way.

He asks with the arch of his back, the squeeze of his thighs. He tries, somehow, to keep quiet, but fails more often than not.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says tightly, "try to relax, I'm going to move. Tell me if it...if it's right."

Lan Wangji manages a loose nod, though he barely understands.

And Wei Wuxian moves. He rolls his hips against him, shifting inside of him, and Lan Wangji groans. Each deep, short thrust pushes air from his lungs, and he lacks the strength to catch it again. It is beyond pleasure. It is ecstatic. To have Wei Wuxian around him, inside him, panting above him. A deep, villainous part of him wants it never to end. The rest of him howls for release.

He is dripping now, steadily, onto his own stomach. He can feel it pooling on his belly, unpleasantly cool. He whimpers between desperate, panting breaths, beyond words.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, breath shivering across Lan Wangji's collarbone, "I can't...can't keep this up, you feel too—" his breath catches, and he pauses. "I'm going to finish. You need to come."

Dimly, distantly, the idea that Wei Wuxian should derive pleasure from this, no matter how perfunctory, gives Lan Wangji a perverse sort of satisfaction. It snuffs out like a candle at the nebulous thought that perhaps in another world, they could have had this for real.

In this world, the fact remains that this has gone on far too long. But Lan Wangji can do nothing about it. He meets Wei Wuxian's thrusts, leans into the pleasure, tries to gain the momentum to go over the edge. He should be able to. It should be easy. He has been so hard for so long, has been given more now than in his absolute wildest and wettest of dreams, and yet he hovers, scant inches away.

Wei Wuxian loses patience, his head dropping to Lan Wangji's shoulder. He grunts softly and fists Lan Wangji's wet cock, quick and merciless. Lan Wangji cries out, shuddering violently with the extended, expansive stimulation, worked both inside and out, helplessly, utterly unmade by Wei Wuxian's touch.

And still he does not crest. He is sobbing steadily now, ugly and jagged, and Wei Wuxian kisses his shoulder, his throat, his cheek.

"Were we wrong?" He asks, breathless. "Lan Zhan please, tell—show me, I...I can't...you...I can't lose you. Lan Zhan?"

Exhausted, Lan Wangji turns his tearstained face toward him, blindly seeking. Perhaps they were all wrong. Perhaps he will die now, like this. And perhaps it is selfish of him, but having heard those words, he finds his regret to be less than it should be. Everything, everything hurts. But Wei Wuxian will miss him, too. Of course he will. They are zhiji. This, miraculously, will not erase that. It is more than he deserves. Wei Wuxian has always been more than he deserves.

Lan Wangji heaves, and writhes, and cries.

Wei Wuxian kisses him. Soft, gloriously cool lips on his.

An odd, fleeting, hollow feeling.

The dam breaks. The pain goes suddenly quiet. Roaring to fullness in its absence is the killing swell of such a long-delayed climax. It is possible that he calls Wei Wuxian's name. It is impossible to know.

The world, again, goes dark.

-----

Lan Wangji wakes to gray light and distant birdsong. A sharp edge is digging into his shoulder. He shifts, then goes still at the deep ache in his entire body.

He remembers.

"Hanguang-jun should drink this," says a brisk voice to his right.

Wen Qing sits there, watching him. His heart skips a beat and he looks down. But he is fully clothed once more.

Her smile is wry as she holds a cup out to him. Laboriously, he sits up to take it. It is bitter, but familiar. A restorative. He thanks her formally.

She shakes her head. "No need.” She turns to go.

"Wen-guniang," Lan Wangji says. She pauses. "How long has it been gone?"

She turns to stare at him. He knows she knows what he means.

"How? When?"

She looks away. "You'll have to ask him."

The pang of loss he felt upon waking with Wei Wuxian gone speaks for him. "Will he let me?"

 He lies on the slab of rock that serves as Wei Wuxian's bed for too long. It is difficult to tell the passage of time in the Burial Mounds, but it seems slightly brighter than it had...before. He reasons that it could well be the next morning. He wonders if Wei Wuxian slept beside him, then tosses the thought away as gross indulgence. He wonders instead, as he has many times since his last visit, if Wei Wuxian sleeps at all.

First, his excuse to tarry is meditation. He works at it, simultaneously restoring his drained core and healing himself, until the discomfort fades from his every movement to just a specific few.

Once that is done, he has no reason to be idle. But the voice in his head, Wei Wuxian's blisteringly cold one that had called him his proper name all those months ago, keeps him in place. He hears it saying all manner of things in response to seeing him now.

"What more could you possibly want of me?" Wei Wuxian sneers in his mind. And he would be right to do so.

But Lan Wangji does not intend to ask anything of him ever again.

And there is the other thing. The fact that his robes should be uncomfortable, filthy, but they have been cleaned, dried, and arranged back onto his body properly. Comfortably. Almost as if—

He dares not imagine. But at the very least it does not speak of utter contempt.

So he rises. He follows the path Wen Qing told him of. And he does something foolish. He hopes.

After no short while of walking, he comes to a slightly darker, more silent corner of deadened forest. He rounds a bend and sees Wei Wuxian crouched a little ways off, and then hears high, lilting notes as if through water. The energies are strange here, and Wei Wuxian is speaking to with them in their own language.

Lan Wangji approaches until he sees Wei Wuxian go still. He says nothing. Wei Wuxian drops his flute from his lips.

"Are you well?" He asks without rising or turning.

"I am."

Wei Wuxian nods. "Your people are waiting for you."

It is a dismissal. Lan Wangji recognizes this. But he will impose just a little bit longer.

"Your core," he says. Wei Wuxian stands abruptly, still facing away, gripping Chenqing. "Can it be replaced?"

Wei Wuxian whirls to face him, anger and fear warring with the questions on his face.

Lan Wangji has other questions, too. But they do not matter. He is intelligent enough to piece together the cold, empty space where Wei Wuxian's core should be, the tired guilt on Wen Qing's face, and...

"Your scar," he says, dropping his gaze to the scorched earth.

He should not know of it. But he does, now, and he also owes a greater debt than he can ever repay. Wei Wuxian does not respond. How dearly Lan Wangji wants to see his expression. But he will not infringe on any more of his privacy.

The wind howls. He waits.

"You won't tell anybody," Wei Wuxian says uncertainly.

Lan Wangji stiffens. "I will not."

"Nobody told you?"

"Nobody.”

Wei Wuxian pauses, momentarily satisfied.

"You're not going to ask how? Or when?"

Lan Wangji would like to. He would like to know everything of Wei Wuxian, even his sorrow, his pain. But he is not entitled to those things. There is only one point that matters.

"Can it be replaced? Can the procedure be reversed?"

Wei Wuxian sighs. Lan Wangji can tell he does not wish to speak of this.

"So single-minded, Lan Zhan," he scolds, then shakes his head. "The chance of success would be small; the chance of finding a donor, much smaller."

But this is all Lan Wangji hoped to hear. It is enough. He goes to his knees, arms circled in front of his chest.

"Allow me," he says.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian darts forward, trying to pull Lan Wangji up from the ground. Eventually he gives up and goes to his knees in front of him, pushing at his arms. "Lan Zhan, stop this," he says, panicked. "Don't be stupid, stop—Lan Zhan, you can't be serious."

"Please allow me," Lan Wangji repeats, eyes downcast.

"Stop this!" Wei Wuxian shouts. "It can't be done, and I wouldn't take it from you anyway!"

Lan Wangji flinches bodily. He had not considered...but yes. Everything in him is sullied. He bends at the waist, bowing further.

"Apologies for the offense," he says, then snaps his mouth shut. His voice is too obviously strained.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian says, still alarmed.

Lan Wangji needs to leave. He has already overstayed. But he...he has not tried hard enough.

"This debt is too great to repay in one lifetime," he says. "Please inform this one of what he may do to begin."

Wei Wuxian sags, dragging one of Lan Wangji's wrists with him. "Lan Zhan, there is no debt between us."

Lan Wangji only just stops himself from glancing up. He does not understand.

"I owe you my life and more," he says. "You took great pains to save me, even as the situation proved me unworthy of it. I owe—"

"You owe me nothing," Wei Wuxian insists, shaking Lan Wangji's arm. "There were no great pains. Nobody is unworthy. Well...you aren't."

Lan Wangji opens his mouth to protest, but Wei Wuxian speaks over him.

"People have...desires, Lan Zhan. There's nothing unworthy about it."

"But you—"

"Stop," he says. He sounds so, so tired. "If you hadn't been...dying. If we—" He stops. "Just keep my secret," he says, and lets go of his wrist. "And live well."

Lan Wangji closes his eyes. The thought of going back to his home, his life, after this, had not yet occurred to him. It sinks him from his knees to the ground. How can he do this? How can he leave him this way?

"Wei Ying," he pleads. "I must...I must do something. I cannot...I..."

"Why, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks, not unkindly. "You have responsibilities. People to protect, just like me. Live well, and count things even between us. Why not?"

Lan Wangji’s chest caves in. He does not make the sound clawing up his throat.

"You...truly, you must know why," he says. "After... you must know. I would not leave you in need. I could not."

"Ah, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says sadly. He shuffles forward. Lan Wangji startles at the feel of fingertips on his cheek. "You're too good. But all I need is," he huffs, "political asylum for me and 40 friends? It's not your burden."

Suddenly yet slowly, like the first burst of sunrise, an idea reveals itself on the horizon of Lan Wangji’s mind. It is unorthodox. And likely unwelcome. But it is all he has.

"My uncle made a suggestion," he says. "When my affliction became known. It is true that he did not know what it would mean, but I would hold him to it. If it is not...hateful, to you."

"I don't know what you mean," Wei Wuxian says warily.

Lan Wangji steels himself. "You are perceived as the head of a sect. A proper alliance could protect your people, and Gusu Lan is in need of hands for rebuilding. The person who cast this curse upon me has given the perfect excuse, and made themselves scapegoat. If you would...I would not ask anything of you, if you agreed. It would be a marriage in name only, as you wish it."

Wei Wuxian's silence turns to spluttering. "M—Lan Zh—marriage?? What—how—"

"If the idea is odious, I will not mention it again. But as I said. My uncle suggested it. And under the circumstances, he cannot refuse."

"Your—he—Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, look at me. Look at me, please."

Lan Wangji looks at him. His eyes are wide. Disbelieving. Concerned.

"Your uncle would qi deviate if you even hinted at such a thing," he says. "Gusu Lan is in a precarious enough position, you don't need...I have nothing to offer in return." He pats his lower stomach, empty of spiritual energy, emphatically. “Nothing. Don't be ridiculous."

"It is not ridiculous," Lan Wangji argues, certain now that he is right. "You can offer more protection for us, and we can offer legitimacy. The person who cast this curse can be seen to have forced our hands. Has—has forced our hands."

He stops himself. He should not push this. Wei Wuxian is looking at him as if he does not know him.

"You don't want to marry me, Lan Zhan."

This gives Lan Wangji pause. It is a confusing objection, to say the least. He stares, trying to comprehend. He clears his throat. Takes a breath.

"If you are under the impression..." he stops. Drops his eyes once more. "...that the...impetus of the curse. Is the whole of the way I—”

"Demonic cultivation," Wei Wuxian interrupts. "It would be unhealthy. For you. And your elders! They wouldn't let me, not if I were...attached to your sect. To you.”

A fair concern, and one Lan Wangji has been turning over in his own mind as well. "Is this your only objection?"

Wei Wuxian casts about. "Ah..."

Lan Wangji takes one last plunge. "The elders can be reasoned with, compromises can be made. I am not concerned for my health: being near you could never be harmful to me." He hears himself, then, and amends, "Though you need not. Be near me. That is not a condition."

"You would defend this?" Wei Wuxian asks, bemused.

"Defend what?"

"My cultivation path. You..."

Lan Wangji resists a sigh. "I understand the reason, now. And I believe...if you did not object. We could work toward making it safe, without stripping you of what your hard work has created."

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says. He reaches out, then stops.

Lan Wangji stares at his hand, hovering between them. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his eyes, in his tongue.

"Wei Ying."

"You would let me, though?"

His tone is gently mocking. His head is cocked to the side, the edge of a smile playing across his lips. It knocks the breath from Lan Wangji's chest.

"Let you?" He asks, dazed.

"Be near you."

Lan Wangji's heart stops. It is a moment before he can respond.

"I would. Always."

Wei Wuxian takes his hand, and sighs. "You don't owe me this," he says again.

"I do," Lan Wangji counters, off-kilter. "I owe you. And I want to. I would want to, even if—"

He loosens his tight grip on Wei Wuxian's hand. He is saying too much, taking too much, being too much. He settles himself. Finds the words that matter.

"It would be a thing happily given, with no strings attached, should you wish it."

Wei Wuxian laughs strangely. "Lan Zhan, you really..." He shakes his head. "I'd marry you in an instant, you know," says.

Lan Wangji's neck hurts from the speed with which he looks up at him. Hope, warm and liquid, blooms through his limbs.

"But I can't make this decision on my own," Wei Wuxian goes on. "It's not just my life. We have to talk it over with everyone."

"Yes," Lan Wangji says, surprised, and eager now that he sees the possibility of success. Of doing something of use.

"Alright," says Wei Wuxian, a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. "I can't promise...but it...it could work."

"It will," Lan Wangji says, certain that the strength of his conviction alone will carry them through if need be.

He feels strange and dreamlike, confused but heartened by the turn in this conversation. That Wei Wuxian can stand the sight of him, let alone wish to ally with him personally, seems too wonderful to be true. Another Wei Wuxian hallmark.

"But Lan Zhan, no more talk of strings," Wei Wuxian says.

Lan Wangji sobers and nods. It is unseemly. Of course their understanding must be a tacit one, now.

But his hand is suddenly in both of Wei Wuxian's.

"You need to stop feeling guilty," Wei Wuxian says, looking down at it. "If I were your husband...if I were. We could try all that again, but without the impending doom. We could try it again any way we like, any time—all the time—and we'd—"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji interrupts, strangled. His heart is in his throat. He cannot comprehend what he is hearing. His ears, his face, are on fire.

Wei Wuxian smiles down at their hands, one part shy, one part mischief. "I think we could get really good at it, if we had the chance, don't you?"

Lan Wangji stares at him. "You..."

"Mn," says Wei Wuxian, meeting his eyes.

He shines so bright, even without any core to speak of. He takes Lan Wangji's breath away.

"I take it back," Wei Wuxian says, his voice suddenly urgent. "I like strings. Mine is that if this happens, I want to be your real husband. In name, in practice, in bed, and in your heart. Because you would be, in mine."

Lan Wangji's voice sticks in his throat. He feels...he feels unreal. He does not know what to do, to say. Perhaps they never broke the curse at all and he has simply gone mad. But Wei Wuxian's fingers stroking his palm, the root-knotted dirt beneath his shins, are real. He sways, unbalanced.

Wei Wuxian reaches out. Catches him. Folds him into his arms for a second time. Lan Wangji's breath shudders out of him.

He is on his knees, breathlessly held in the arms of his beloved. He has dreamt this many ways. But never has it been so real, so full of hope. He wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian in turn, buries his face in his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian huffs. "Jiang Cheng is going to be so angry."

Lan Wangji comes back down to earth. It is true he had not thought of this. He makes to pull away. "How should—"

Wei Wuxian clutches him tighter. "I don't care," he says, "I don't care, we can manage him." He pauses, then speaks more softly. "Maybe...I could see shijie's wedding after all. Or—no. It's too soon, I—"

"Yes," says Lan Wangji. "You will. We will go together."

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath, and lets it out into Lan Wangji's hair.

"Together," he says.

It takes several serious, and at times uncomfortable, discussions, but in the end, Gusu Lan’s Second Jade is indeed thoroughly removed from the marriage pool of the great sects. The curse caster is found and punished. And everybody else lives happily ever after.

The end.

-----

(Thank you for coming on this wildly self-indulgent journey, I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to read some actually nicely-polished, fleshed-out fics by me—including another sex-cursed LWJ—check out my AO3.)

#my fic #mdzsnet #the untamed fanfic #theuntameddaily #bottom lan wangji #that tag just...has to go there bc i know people actually find things through it #on tumblr??? you ask #yes my friends evidently #anyway here's...this #angst that morphs suddenly into the MOST indulgent of fix-its #does it have a consistent tone??? is it Good??? who knows. unimportant #is it not enough to simply tweet 9 thousand words in 3 days and then yeet it at your tumblr followers too #this isn't FOR a literary award....it's for melodrmatic wangxian Feels and nothing else #i hope you enjoy it!!!! <3

[the-bau-quinjet]

Please Don't

Summary: Hotch and Y/N have been pining for each other but everything changes after they go undercover for a case.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence, angst

Word Count: 2289

a/n: Thank you for this request!! I love a good Hotch moment. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

"Alright ladies! Here's the first round." Emily smiled as she set the four glasses down in front of you all.

Girl's night had just started. It being Penelope's turn to pick the nights events meant you, Emily, and JJ were in for a long night of bar hopping.

"Yes!!!" Penelope nearly screamed, grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp. "First question of the night goes to Y/N."

Your eyes widened as everyone turned to look at you. Whatever game Penelope was trying to play was clearly not going to go well for you.

"Oh, God. What is it?" You grimaced, eyes flitting between the three of them.

"When are you going to do something about your crush on Hotch?" Emily wasted no time in getting into the hard hitting questions.

"And don't even bother denying it! It's so painfully obvious." JJ added on, eyeing you skeptically.

"First of all, rude. Second of all, fine. I have a hopeless crush on our boss. Are you happy now?" You playfully glared, knowing there was no use in even trying to pretend.

"So? When are you going to do something about it?" Penelope was giddy, always one to celebrate new relationships.

"Uh, never." You deadpanned.

"Why not?" She whined in response.

"Pen, he's my boss for one. Plus it's highly unlikely he feels the same. I mean, how would I even bring that up?" You shook your head, trying to avoid the conversation.

"Y/N, Hotch is totally into you-" Emily's rant was cut off by the sounds of all of your phones buzzing.

You all shared a glance before confirming your suspicions.

"Another girl's night cut short." You shook your head. "Who needs a ride?"

The four of you quickly made your way out of the bar before piling into your car and heading to the Bureau.

-

"Damn ladies, looking good." Derek greeted you when you piled into the elevator together.

You hadn't thought about changing before coming in. None of you were wearing anything wildly inappropriate. Your outfit was just a bit more form fitting than a typical day in the field required.

"Thanks Derek." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the elevator and immediately heading for the conference room.

Aaron's eyes were on you almost instantly. He always looked for you first when a new case came in.

"You ever gonna tell her?" Rossi asked from next to him.

"I have no idea what your talking about." Hotch kept his face neutral despite knowing there was no real point in denying it to Dave.

"I see the way you look at her. You know, I see the way she looks at you too. you deserve to be happy, Aaron." He replied easily, a smirk on his face as he took a seat in the conference room.

Hotch merely shook his head, trying to supress the smile forming at the idea of you returning his feelings.

He quickly moved on to debrief the team ultimately telling everyone to meet at the jet.

-

Three days later, another couple was dead, and you were no closer to catching the guy.

"Wait, there's a new pattern." Reid jumped up, pointing out the abduction sites on the map. "He's moving south, alternating between 11th and 14th Street. Each abduction happened at a different club on those streets. If he follows pattern the next abduction will be tonight at Cameo." He pointed out the next club on the map.

"So we'll stakeout the club, stop him before he gets another couple." Morgan suggested.

"We can't risk a takedown inside the club." Hotch ran a hand over his face.

"What if two of us go undercover? Pretend to be a couple and then we can stop him when he tries to abduct us." You suggested a new plan.

"That could work." Dave added on, sending you a nod. "You and Hotch fit his victimology."

"What d'ya say, Hotch?" Your heart was beating rapidly, but you refused to let it show. "Wanna go on a date?" You playfully nudged his side.

"It's our best plan." He nodded resolutely. "Go with Emily to get something to wear."

You smiled at him before turning to see a mischievous look on Emily's face. She whispered in your ear as you walked out of the room.

"Get ready. Hotch won't be able to keep his eyes off you tonight."

-

"Are you sure I should wear this?" You pulled the dress down a bit, trying to cover more of your thighs.

"Yes. You look amazing, and this is definitely going to catch the eye of our unsub." JJ complimented as she added a few finishing touches to your hair.

"It's just now dawning on me why we don't do undercover work." You flinched away from Emily as she attempted to add a third layer of mascara.

"Oh, hush. This was your idea. Everything will be fine. Better than fine if you're lucky." She winked, capping the mascara and throwing it back into your makeup bag.

"Em, this is work. I'm absolutely not making a move on Hotch while trying to lure an unsub to abduct us." You deadpanned.

"I'm not saying make a move! This is your opportunity to flirt a little and see how he responds." She shrugged casually.

You were about to provide another rebuttal when a knock sounded on the door to the bathroom.

"Y/N, you almost ready?" Derek called from the other side of the door.

"Coming out now!" You nearly ran out before Emily or JJ could try to convince you to flirt with Hotch again.

"Damn, L/N." Derek smiled when you exited the bathroom. "Looking good. You know who else might think so?"

"Can it, Derek. I'm in no mood." You swiftly walked past him. You could hear Hotch arguing with Rossi about something as you walked up to the conference room door.

"Dave, cool it will you?" Hotch rolled his eyes, not noticing you yet.

"I'm just saying Aaron-" He tried again.

"Well, don't." Hotch's playfulness rarely came out on cases, but you could see a glimpse of it in the way he bantered with Dave.

"Ready to go?" You asked from the doorway, putting your comm's device in your ear. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at the way Aaron looked at you.

"Ready." He gave you a tight smile, diverting his eyes from your tight dress.

"We'll be right outside. All the exits covered." Dave reminded the two of you, nodding as you walked out the door.

-

"Here you go, one vodka cranberry." He winked when he passed the glass over, a subtle reminder about the lack of alcohol coursing through you.

"Thanks." You shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. You'd been by the bar for about an hour, and nobody suspicious had caught your eye.

"Do you want to dance?" You surprised yourself by asking the question, watching as Hotch's eyes widened slightly. "I just, the other couples? Didn't witnesses say they were dancing?" You whispered the last part, obviously trying to limit anyone overhearing your conversation.

"Right. Of course." He looked nervous, but you chalked it up to not doing undercover often.

You lead him to the middle of the dance floor, trying to find the best view of the doors. It took a few minutes of awkward swaying, but the two of you found your rhythm.

"Behind you, there's a man watching us." Hotch whispered in your ear sending a shiver through your spine.

You nodded slightly in response before turning around. You pressed your back to his chest to cover the movement, eyes flitting around the room to observe anyone suspicious.

It didn't take long for you to spot the man Hotch was talking about. You moved your arms up around his neck, pulling his head closer to you so you could whisper to him.

"Got him. How do we get him outside?" You suppressed the urge to grind your hips against Hotch's. It was hard enough to deal with the feeling of his hands on your hips.

He spun you around, pressing your chests close together. Again, he moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, "we just need to give him a show."

He pressed his lips to yours lightly, waiting for your response. You kissed him back with passion, relishing in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

Your breath caught in your throat when he pressed a series of light kisses to your neck. You involuntarily tilted your head to the side, giving him more room to work.

"I think we've got his attention. Let's head out the back door." Hotch grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him toward the back of the club.

The cool night air sent a chill through your body, but you didn't have long before the man burst through the door behind you.

Hotch easily overpowered him, knocking the gun from his hands. He pulled handcuffs from his pocket, quickly securing his hands behind his back.

"Morgan, we got him out back." You spoke into your comms, turning slightly when movement in the shadows caught your eye.

"Y/N, get down!" Hotch jumped in front of you just as you heard a gun being fired. He fell into you, slumping against your body. Everything happened so quickly.

"FBI, drop your weapon!" Morgan yelled, running closer to the man in the shadows.

He quickly handcuffed the partner, leading him to a waiting officer while Emily collected the other unsub.

"Aaron?" You looked at him in your arms noticing the blood soaking through his light blue shirt. "I need a medic!" You called down the alley, watching in terror as two medics removed Aaron from your arms.

You were frozen in place as they put him on a gurney and pushed him into a waiting ambulance.

It wasn't until the ambulance was completely out of sight that you realized Reid was talking to you.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He gestured to the blood on your dress and hands.

You nodded silently, pointing to where the ambulance just was.

"Let's get you to the hospital okay?" He spoke softly, not wanting to add to your distress. He grabbed a shock blanket from a paramedic before leading you to an SUV. Derek and Emily sat in the front, ready to drive as soon as you got in.

You don't remember the ride to the hospital. You don't remember JJ helping you wash the blood from your hands. You don't remember a nurse updating you on Hotch's surgery. You don't remember anything except the look in Aaron's eyes as he bled out in your arms.

"Aaron Hotchner?" The doctor called out into the waiting room. All six of you stood up, eyes fixed on the woman in scrubs. "His surgery was successful. I can take one of you to see him."

The whole team gestured to you, knowing how you felt and how much you needed to see that he was okay.

"Follow me." The doctor lead you down the winding hallways to a recovery room where Aaron was asleep. "He's still under anesthesia for now. It should wear off in a few hours."

You nodded as she left, still unable to form any words as you took in his pale appearance.

"Aaron." You whispered his name, eyes brimming with tears. You pulled the chair as close as you could next to his bed, both hands wrapped around one of his.

You must've fallen asleep because before you knew it, the hand in your grasp was squeezing you back.

"Aaron?" You lifted your head from the side of his bed, eyes focusing on his. "Oh, thank God." You felt the tears brimming again.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay." He murmured softly, moving his free hand to wipe your tears.

"No. You're an idiot who jumped in front of a bullet for me." You whispered back, voice breaking.

"I'd do it again." He took no time to craft his response, only causing more tears to fall down your cheeks.

"Aaron-"

"Y/N, I don't have anyone else in my life quite like you. I haven't in a long time." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. "You make me feel like I could be happy again. Like Jack could have two people to provide him unconditional love everyday in his life again. Like maybe, just maybe, I could love someone again. I would jump in front of countless bullets for you because I can't imagine my life without you in it."

"Please don't." You whispered, eyes still watery.

"What?" Hotch could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you not returning his affection.

"Please don't jump in front of anymore bullets for me. I don't think I could survive this feeling again." You took a deep, shuddering breath. "Watching them wheel you away on that gurney... it felt like my heart was being cut open. Aaron, there's not a day that goes by where you don't make me smile. Even if it's just the thought of you. I can't imagine my life without you either."

He continued to wipe tears from your face as you spoke.

"Would now be a good time to ask you out to dinner?" He smiled when you laughed.

"I think now is a great time for that." You smiled, leaning your head into his hand.

"Perfect. So, will you get dinner with me?" He nearly whispered.

"I'd love to." You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before setting back against your chair.

It didn't take long for him to fall back asleep. This time, when you leaned your head against his leg, your heart felt full.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch one shot #aaron hotchner angst #hotch angst

[shslrose]

SDR2 Boys React to You Flinching

Nagito, Gundham, and Fuyuhiko react to you thinking that they were going to hit you.

Nagito Komaeda

Arguments with Nagito are few and far between, something which you are incredibly grateful for. You cared for him deeply, and he felt the same way about you. After arriving on Jabberwock Island, the two of you spent almost all of your time together. Even after his outburst at the first trial, you stayed by his side.

But, ever since the Funhouse, Nagito had been acting strange. You noticed it immediately, but every time you tried to bring it up, he just brushed you off. You decided you would bring it up again today, so you walked up to his cottage and knocked on the door. Wordlessly, he let you in and closed the door behind you. As you entered, you couldn’t help but notice how tense he seemed; he moved around stiffly, as though something were troubling him.

“Nagito, I’m worried about you,” you said, standing behind him, with no way of reading his expression. “Did something happen in the Octagon-”

“I never asked you to worry about me.” His voice was cold. 

“...Nagito?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently turning him towards you. He relaxed into your touch and turned to face you.

You looked into his eyes, and you found nothing but his pained stare aimed back at you. There was a sort of distance in his gaze, as though his mind was somewhere else entirely. Your hand slipped down to his arm as you tried to pull him closer and bring his attention back to the present. You had no way of knowing that right now, he was recalling the events of the Octagon.

Nagito held the Hope’s Peak Academy files in his hands. He turned the pages eagerly, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the end of the file and realised he never saw your profile.

Yours were the only one missing...

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He questioned you, his voice calm and unwavering. He closed his eyes as he awaited your response, noting that your hand still rested on his arm. “T-tell you?” You asked. “Tell you what..?”

“That you’re the traitor, obviously.” He opened his eyes then, and you could see a crazed look in his stare. It was almost as if hope and despair swirled within his light eyes.

“What?” You exclaimed, taken aback by the accusation. “I’m not the traitor!”

A sigh of what seemed like annoyance left his pale lips. In one swift movement, he raised his right hand, intending to swat you away from his left arm.

He watched as your body tensed up and you closed your eyes as though you were bracing yourself.

“Y/N… did you… did you think that I…?” His voice was hardly stronger than a whisper, and he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

A soft gasp left your lips. He sounded so hurt and a wave of guilt ran through you. You hadn’t meant to flinch, but when you saw him raise his hand, you just couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed by emotion, you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you cried softly, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to stop your tears. You felt Nagito wrap his arms around you, enveloping you into a warm hug.

“No, I’m sorry,” he countered, pulling you close. “I was tricked by Monokuma, he removed your profile from the file to make me suspect you. I was trying to test you to see if you were the traitor, but I took it too far and accidentally scared you. I really am the worst…”

You understood now: Monokuma had made him think you were the traitor, causing him to act cold and distant. When he accused you of being the traitor, it was because he wanted to see your reaction so he could confirm or deny it, but then he had accidentally scared you. 

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, leaning further into his embrace. 

“Y/N, I swear, I’ll never hurt you.”

In that moment, you felt safe in his arms.

Gundham Tanaka

“Abandon your overdependence and complaints this instant,” Gundham muttered, rolling his eyes. “Those have no place in this world.”

You took a second to think back to how you had gotten to this point. You had come to Gundham’s dorm to spend some time with him, when you found one of Sonia’s fancy pens on his desk. After you brought it up to him, he admitted that he had been studying with her the night before, at which point the two of you had quickly fallen into an intense argument.

“Overdependence?!” You laughed bitterly. “You’re the one who can’t seem to do anything without that stupid princess by your side!”

“Y/N, I’ve already told you, she is but a mere friend!”

“Don’t lie to me!” you shout. “She’s in love with you, it’s obvious! She’s always flirting with you and you never tell her to stop!”

He sighed as he tried to find the right words, but none would come out. You scoffed and turned away from him. He watched as your hips sway as you began to storm out of the room.

“Y/N, you understand nothing at all!” he called out to you, growing less calm with each word. He took a few steps towards you, intending to prevent you from leaving. 

“Just stop!” You shouted, as you turned to face him. “I’m done with this, so don’t bother chasing me!”

He threw his hand up in an act of frustration, and you felt a sudden fear that he would strike you. Without thinking, you closed your eyes, letting a quiet gasp leave your lips as you braced yourself. Confusion spread throughout Gundham’s mind as he watched you flinch away from him. His expression quickly softened as he realised he had scared you.

You opened your eyes, and he could see tears welling up in them. 

“Y/N...” he said your name softly. There was a gentle kindness in his voice as he spoke to you. “Know this: I shall never harm you. Even if it is our destiny to clash, even if my devilish temper flares…”

You threw yourself into his arms then, allowing him to envelop you in a warm embrace. “I know,” you cried quietly against his chest. 

“I...I love you, Y/N.” He declared boldly, his face reddening as he did so. 

“..?!” You couldn’t help but gasp at his words.

“I love you, and only you,” Gundham affirmed as he held you in his arms.

“I love you too, Gundham.”

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

It was nearly two in the morning, and your boyfriend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, was still not home. He had left earlier that evening on some Yakuza business, saying he would be back before midnight, and so you grew more worried with each minute that passed. It was a dangerous, not to mention illegal, line of work, but he was dedicated to his family business. You couldn’t help but worry for his safety every time he left the house. 

You paced around your shared bedroom anxiously, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You were just beginning to consider calling his phone when you heard the doorknob turn.

Fuyuhiko walked in, and you let out a sigh of relief. You ran over to him, pulling into a hug.

“Fuyu~!” You exclaimed, making him blush at the use of the nickname. 

“I-I told you to stop calling me that..!” He scolded you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he liked it. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok!” You admitted as you let go, releasing him from the embrace. You noticed that he smelled lightly of cherry blossoms.

“Tch, of course I’m okay,” he scoffed. “You didn’t need to wait up for me.”

“‘Of course I’m okay’?” You repeated back to him, narrowing your gaze as you did so. “What’s that supposed to mean? You said you’d be back by midnight and it’s nearly two in the-”

“Would you stop treating me like a damn kid!?” He spat angrily. “I said I’m fine, so just leave it alone.”

Even with you, he still had his outbursts sometimes. It’s late, you reasoned, he’s just tired or something.

“I’m not trying to treat you like a kid,” you tried to explain. “I was just worried about you, alright? You could have sent a text or something, I didn’t know if you were okay and I was starting to think something bad happened.”

“I never asked you to worry about me!” He snapped. “I’m not just some Yakuza, I’m the heir to my clan… I can take care of myself, so would you quit fucking worrying!”

“You’re not invincible, Fuyu!” You shouted, growing angrier. “I know that you’re strong, but that doesn’t mean everything is in your control!”

“So what, it’s in yours?!” He scoffed. “You obviously don’t think I can handle shit out there...You’re just like Peko, always treating me like a damn kid…!”

“Huh..?” You asked, confused. “Peko..what does she have to do with this?”

His eyes widened slightly at your question, and he quickly avoided it. “N-nothing! I was just.. Ugh, just forget it!”

“Okay.. look, I don’t want to argue with you,” you said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m just saying it’s hard for me when you just disappear without a text-”

“And what would a fucking text do?” He spat, ridiculing your suggestion without mercy. “What, tell you where to find my damn corpse? How fucking useless…Stop worrying all the damn time and just get over it!”

His words cut you deep, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You heard him let out a strained sigh. He raised his hand up to his head in an act of frustration. Your tears clouded your vision, and for a moment you thought he was going to strike you. Fear ran through your heart as you flinched and stumbled back a few steps, falling onto the bed behind you. 

“Y/N…? What the hell are you…?” His eyes widened with realization. “...! D-don’t tell me you… you thought I was going to…!”

You couldn’t even reply, the words choked up in your throat as tears rolled down your face. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologized profusely. “I...I..How could I have..fuck, I’m sorry.”

He sighed again before continuing, “It’s no excuse but… Peko got hurt tonight. She jumped in front of me, like I needed protecting or some shit… always treating me like a damn kid…”

“Is she alright?” You asked, immediately feeling concerned for his close friend.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be okay. The whole thing just had me on edge tonight, and I took it out on you.. That’s not okay, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And..I’m sorry for scaring you, I...I never want to make you worry like that again. I’ll work hard to earn your forgiveness, and your trust.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you,” You assured him that you forgave him, in order to repeat the events of the last time he kneeled during an apology (in which he ended up slitting his stomach). “I’m not scared of you.. It was just an instinct, I guess…”

“Still, I was wrong to yell at you like that,” he admitted, avoiding your gaze. 

“I told you, it's alright.” You assured him again, before giving him a teasing smile. “Now, will you finally come to bed with me, Fuyu~”

“I-I told you not to call me that, damnit!” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and his face was dusted pink. Still, he joined you, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you cuddled in bed.

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Read Part Two (Hajime, Kazuichi, and Izuru react to you flinching) here!

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a/n - thank you for reading this, oh and requests are open, so send some in!

#Nagito Komaeda #nagito komeada #danganronpa nagito #gundham tanaka #dr2 gundham #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa fuyuhiko #sdr2 nagito #nagito komeada x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka x reader #gundham tanaka imagine #fuyuhiko x reader #fuyuhiko x peko #sonia x gundham #souda x gundham #danganronpa 2

[dinogoofy]

Day 16- Headless horseman

Not the best plot line ever, but insanely cute!

Pairing: Erron black/F!reader (Romantic)

Warnings: mentioned animal death, ghosts.

Word count: 1107

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It was dark outside. Too dark. The moon had been clouded over, stars choosing to stay hidden from the horror below, leaving the town in total darkness. Almost everyone in the town of Sleepy hollow was smart enough to stay indoors and stay safe during a night like tonight. But you were the exception it seems.

As the veterinarian of the town, you had to attend an emergency for one of the farmers. His prized dairy cow went into labor, but had been calving for much too long. The baby needed to come out now or he'd lose them both. You had rushed over immediately, spending much of the afternoon and night delivering the calf. The mother survived but unfortunately, there was no saving the poor baby. 

By the time you were sure that the mother was fine and everything had been resolved, it was much too late in the night. 

"Please, stay for the night. It's the least we can do." You smile slightly at the farmer's wife, reaching out to shake her hand before remembering the blood that still remained, and choosing to nod in appreciation instead.

"Thank you very much for the offer, but I don't want to bother the two of you. My home isn't too far from here, I'll be fine." She clings to her husband's arm with a defeated sigh, and he sets a hand on top of her own to comfort her. 

"It's too dangerous. The wolves will be out tonight. And in town Ichabod was claiming-" You almost roll your eyes. 

"I'm aware of what he was claiming. Lord knows the man hasn't been in his right mind. I'll be fine. No ghost will slay me tonight, I promise you." The farmer shakes his head at your stubbornness, and says a polite goodbye to you as you finally leave. 

The night was chilly, windy, and dark. But you wouldn't be swayed. There was no such thing as ghosts. There certainly wasn't some headless soldier that had come back from the beyond, and there wasn't any chance that he'd be after you if he was real. You were a simple person, in plain, blood spattered clothes- not unexpected for a person in your profession. You weren't out of the ordinary.

As you weave your way through the woods, a dark mass catches your eye.

There, in between the trees, was a horse, black as night and all alone. Strange. You whistle at the poor thing, content at the way its ears swing towards you. You smile, and trudge through the trees to approach it.

"Hello there, dear." You say to the animal as you round its side, noticing the saddle. It's neck sways in your direction, and it huffs at you through its nostrils.

"Are you lost?" You step closer, holding a hand out to touch its flank. It's body language changes for the worst for a split second, calming when you gently shush it. Your hand travels up its flank and to its neck, stroking languidly.

"Where's your rider, friend?" The horse huffs again, and it's ears swivel. A chill runs up your spine, but you ignore it, believing it to be from the cold.

"He's right here." A deep voice almost startles you, and the horse almost spooks as well. You don't turn around to see the man, instead choosing to claim the horse.

"She's a beautiful steed." You smile, finding a place by her ears that was a very good place to scratch. The horse almost melts into your hands. The man behind you hums in a surprised way, and you feel him come closer to you, reaching around you to pat her head, his face just out of view. Holy hell, was he tall.

"That she is. I know why we're out here, Stanger, but why are you in the woods all alone?" A little alarm bell rang in your head, but you ignored it, he seemed calm. You should be too.

" 'On my way back home. I'm a veterinarian, 'had to make a stop today." The man chuckles.

"Pretty, and smart too. You're quite a catch." You smile again, blushing,, and go to respond, but your hair stands on end at the noise of a growl to your right. The horse flinches out of your hand. The man behind you sets a hand on your waist just as the pack of wolves come into view. You curse under your breath, and the man's arm wraps fully around you, lifting you into his arms in a quick moment.

"Sorry miss, but I believe I'll be escorting you home today." You squeaked in response, head reeling as he quickly and very impressively mounts his horse with you in his arms, and as the horse rears into the air you finally get a glimpse of his face.

Or lack thereof.

As the man races off Into the night with wolves on his heels, all you can do is stare at his face. A carved jack-o-lantern sat upon his shoulders, barely hanging on as the horse runs faster. The World goes by in a blur, time slurring together as you stare. The headless horsemen had just rescued you from wolves. Ichabod wasn't a fool. And a ghost had been flirting with you. 

By the time he loses the wolves, and he slows the horse, you have almost recovered from the shock.

"Where do you live, sweetheart?" The rumble of his chest has you blushing again, and you timidly tell him, eyes remaining on his "face" the entire time. 

"Don't be so frightened. I'm not going to kill you." You hum nervously, and the horseman chuckles.

"What's your name?" You ask, a little out of nowhere.

"Erron. But I'm sure you know me as the headless horseman." You nod and Erron shakes his head. 

"I didn't expect you to be so… friendly." You say weakly, sitting up a little and adjusting yourself in the saddle. He takes a hand off the reins and places it against your back to steady you.

"I guess I have a soft spot for pretty girls like you." 

Before you know it, you're home. Erron hops off his horse, and helps you down by placing both hands on your waist and lifting you off. Once you have both feet steady on the ground, he takes your hand and holds it to the gaping hole that served as his mouth. 

"It was a pleasure meeting you, sweetheart. I hope we'll meet again." You're blushing a little too much at the action, and lean up to kiss the cheek of his pumpkin head.

"I'm sure we will."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat Halloween #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk imagine #mk reader insert #erron black x reader #erron black imagine #erron black reader insert #erron black

[mochegato]

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 1

Jason smirked as the lock disengaged for him. Tim may be ‘the smart one’ but thank God he was predictable.  It made things like breaking into his townhouse so much easier.  Now he just had to convince him to let him hide at his place for a few days.  It shouldn’t be too hard once he knew it would piss off Damian, because again, Tim was predictable, and one thing he reveled in more than tormenting Jason was tormenting the gremlin.  And not being able to find Jason would absolutely kill Damian, meaning he couldn’t kill Jason.  And none of them would think to look for Jason at Tim’s place of all places.

“Hey, Preten… er… Tim.  You here?” Jason called out as he relocked the door behind him.  “Come on, Tim.  I know you’re here.  You said you were going to hang out with friends tonight, which we both know means you’re going to be home alone all night.”

Jason moved through the townhouse looking for Tim, getting increasingly paranoid as he moved.  He’d told Alfred he’d be around if he needed anything, and he would never lie to Alfred.  So where was he, Jason wondered to himself as he walked past Tim’s bedroom, noting the untouched bed and wandered into the spare bedroom.  And who was the woman in the bed?  The suspiciously, absolutely gorgeous woman, sleeping peacefully in the bed he was going to use.  When Tim was conspicuously missing?  Well that was unpredictable.  

What the fuck was going on?  Tim was paranoid as fuck.  And to just leave someone in his townhouse unsupervised?  Someone who was pretending like she could sleep through Jason screaming at the top of his lungs?  Something was off.  “Hey! Person who doesn’t live here!” Jason yelled.  “Who the fuck are you and why are you in my brother’s bed?”

The woman’s eyes popped open.  Her face scrunched in confusion after a beat, but she slowly closed her eyes again.  “Hey, no!” Jason kicked the bed hard enough to jostle the entire bed.  “Who the fuck are you?”  

This time the woman, who he now realized was probably Tim’s girlfriend that he hadn’t told any of them existed, which he couldn’t blame Tim for, he wouldn’t want to introduce anyone to this family unless he had to either, bolted up to sitting and gasped in a breath.  Her head whipped around clumsily to find the source of the disruption.  She blinked groggily as she looked around, almost like she wasn’t registering what she was seeing, not really.  Jason almost felt bad for waking her up because damn, she must have been really deeply asleep.  It was taking her a while to settle back into reality.

Jason’s theory about her not really taking in what she saw was confirmed when her gaze swept past him with no reaction at all.  The room was dim, but wasn’t dark.  He wasn’t hidden.  There was no way she could have missed him.  After a few seconds she stopped her scan of the room and blinked blankly, swaying slightly in place, and brought her gaze back to him.  She blinked more heavily a few more times as she stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was really there.

Her eyes met his, but didn’t seem to see him. They looked glazed over.  He would normally be a bit more sympathetic to the sleep induced daze, but he was already in a bad mood and she was fucking ignoring him and where was Tim?  “Yes, I’m real,” he gruffly answered her unasked question.  “Now, for the third time, what the fuck are you doing in my brother’s bed?”

She looked down at herself and the bed she was in.  Her head lolled unsteadily as she looked around until she fell back onto the bed with a grunt.  “I see why your brother is the detective, not you.”  

“Excuse me!” he growled at her.  Instead of flinching back like a normal person would have, a smile teased on her lips and she turned over on her side, curling happily into her pillow.  Jason almost thought she’d fallen asleep and was about to strip the comforter off of her until she slurred out a sleepy question.  “So, which brother are you?”

He stared at her, unsure how to react to her. She knew Tim was a detective.  How did she know that?  ‘Detective’ isn’t a term you could just throw in there like ‘he’s the smart one’ would be, which, he was used to hearing.  But ‘detective’ was extremely specific and directly related to their nightly activities.  Unless he told her he was a private detective for some reason?  Or an inside joke?  And she was acting so casual about it, like it was an understood thing.  “Jason,” he finally answered.  Regardless of whether she knew or not, giving that much wouldn’t hurt.

“Ooohhh,” she smiled against the pillow, not even bothering to open her eyes.  “I was supposed to never meet you.  You should definitely stay close by.  Take a picture of Tim’s face when he sees you with me.  It’s going to be brilliant.  I would pay to see it.”

He smiled in spite of himself, but quickly schooled his expression.  She wasn’t answering his questions.  She was deftly avoiding giving him any information.  It was so natural, he could almost believe it really was, but nobody in their lives was that innocent.  But then again, her body was completely relaxed.  He was accustomed to deceptive relaxation, body positioning that appeared outwardly to be relaxed, but the muscles were prone and ready to jump into action in an instant if a threat presented itself.  She didn’t show those signs.  She was either amazingly good, which would explain how she knew who Tim was, or she really was that relaxed and innocent.  

Either way, he still didn’t have a name.  “And who are you exactly?  For the fourth time,” he asked again.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured as she groped for the covers to pull them back up over her chest.  “So tired. Just sleep.  Tim will be back soon, maybe.  Ask h…” she trailed off.

“You don't care if I share the bed?” he asked suspiciously.  This seemed more and more like a trap, but what the hell the trap could be, he couldn’t figure out.  He wasn’t married or seeing anyone so it wasn’t like she could blackmail him with pictures. And she couldn’t exhort him by forcing him into a situation where he defends himself against her husband or boyfriend who just ‘happens’ to walk in on them in bed, that was actually a popular one in Gotham for some reason, because they were in Tim’s townhouse and she knew they were brothers so… what the hell could her game be?

“And there was one bed,” she mumbled amused, giggling softly to herself.

“What?”

She waved him off sloppily.  “Not worried. You lay one finger on me and Tim will kill you.” She clumsily patted the space in the bed next to her.  “Sleep.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he insisted surlily. He waited to see how she would react, but her only response was a soft snore.  He snorted.  He studied the woman, trying to figure out who exactly this woman was and how close to Tim she was, because not many girlfriends would suggest pranking their boyfriends with cheating… with the boyfriend’s brother, especially when she apparently knew there was animosity between them.  

Some of that could be because she was currently quite obviously not quite aware of reality.  He was now convinced it was a bit more than just being tired.  She had clearly enjoyed her night a bit too much, which he could completely understand. If he had to spend an entire night laughing with Tim, he’d need to be drunk too.

His head snapped in the direction of the front door when he heard the sounds of a lock disengaging and the door opening.  He glanced back at the woman in the bed, whose name he still didn’t know, and made a split second decision to trust her despite that fact.  The likelihood that she was conning him was far outweighed by the opportunity to prank Tim, and with his friend’s? girlfriend’s? whichever’s help!  This was unheard of.  Dick’s friends were more than willing to help with a prank, knowingly or unknowingly, but Tim’s friends?  Never. At least not with Jason.

He ripped off his jacket and shirt, throwing them toward the corner of the room and hopped toward the bed as he pulled off his boots.  He jumped under the covers behind the woman and let the covers pool around his hips, just above his pants waistband.  He pulled the covers up to the woman’s shoulders to hide the fact that she was still wearing her shirt.  She barely moved at all in response to his actions.  He wasn’t even sure if she knew he was there.  He really hoped when she woke up that she remembered the prank.

He could hear Tim’s footsteps as he got closer to the door.  Just before he reached the door, Jason threw his arm over the woman’s waist and moved closer to her.  He just barely cracked his eye open, enough to see Tim, but still look closed if the other person wasn’t watching closely enough.

Tim peeked quietly into the room.  He did a double take when he saw the bed.  “What the…” Tim started.  Jason couldn’t stop the small grin that spread on his face, that is until Tim reacted.  

He suddenly threw the door open and rushed the bed. He hauled Jason out of the bed with more strength than Jason remembered him having.  Tim threw him against the wall hard enough to knock a few pictures off the wall.  His face was contorted in the angriest scowl Jason had ever seen on him.  He shoved his forearm into Jason’s throat, pushing hard enough that Jason had to gasp to get air.

Tim moved closer, his eyes sparking with so much anger that for the first time Jason was a bit intimidated.  Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea after all.  But, this reaction from the normally composed Tim was definitely unpredictable.  The woman wasn’t kidding when she said Tim would kill him for touching her.  Tim paused and glanced down toward Jason’s cargo pants, still tightly belted and zipped.  When he looked back up, his eyes had somehow narrowed even more.  “That better have been just a terrible fucking joke.”

Jason rolled his eyes and tried to push Tim’s arm away from his throat, but Tim wouldn’t yield.  “Calm down, Timbers.  I didn’t sleep with your girlfriend,” Jason jeered.

“She isn’t my girlfriend, asshole,” Tim sneered back pushing his forearm harder into Jason’s throat.  “She’s a good friend who got drugged by someone tonight, intending to do God knows what.  So you can imagine how utterly not funny I find you joking about sleeping with her right now.”

Jason’s eyes widened in realization.  That… that would explain a lot.  “Oh Shit.  I’m really sorry, Tim.  I swear I didn’t do anything to her.”  Tim nodded slightly and lowered his arm, but his expression didn’t soften much.  He continued to glare at Jason.

His stare down was interrupted by a soft, tired, slightly slurred voice.  “What happened?  Tim?”  The woman smiled slightly.  “You’re home.”  Her eyes flicked over to Jason and she stopped to contemplate him.  “Hey, you’re real.  Did you take a picture?”

Tim whipped his head over to Jason, his heated glare back in place. “A picture of what, exactly?” he demanded.

Jason held up his hands in an effort to placate him.  She was really, really not helping them right now. “Of your face when you saw us together,” he explained slowly.  Tim drew in a deep breath and his jaw got even tighter.  “In my defense, it was her idea,” Jason said quickly, pointing to the woman, “and I didn’t know she was drugged.”

Tim looked away and huffed out an angry breath. He rubbed his forehead.  “Of course it was her idea.”  He turned to the woman with an exasperated sigh.  “You’re not funny, Marinette.”

The woman, Marinette, pouted at him and nestled deeper into the covers.  “I’m fucking hilarious,” she mumbled out from under the covers.  Her face emerged from the covers as she took them both in.  She looked down at Jason’s chest for a second and threw off the comforter to look down at her chest.  She pulled gently at the front of her shirt.  “Should have taken my shirt off too.  Would have been funnier,” she chastised lightly before collapsing back onto the bed and closing her eyes again.

“No,” Tim yelled out holding out his hands in a halting motion.

Marinette opened one eye to glare at him before turning over and snuggling into the covers on the other side.  “Fuck you.  I have great breasts.”

Tim groaned and looked down mortified.  “Oh God, that’s not something I wanted to ever hear coming out of your mouth.”

“And you’re in trouble anyway,” she continued, ignoring Tim’s comment, her words slurring slightly more as fatigue claimed more of her attention.  “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was sexy?”

Tim groaned and ran his hand down his face.  “And there’s another.”  He looked back at her with a serious expression.  “Not sexy, annoying asshole.”

“No, she clearly said sexy,” Jason corrected him with a cocky grin.

“Touch her and die,” Tim hissed.

“Protective much,” Jason taunted.

“That’s exactly what I am, protective of my drugged friend,” Tim growled back, reminding Jason of the situation and why Marinette was there in the first place.  He turned back to Marinette with a softer expression.  “You can do far better than him.”  He didn’t even flinch when Jason punched him hard in the shoulder. Jason discretely looked up to see how Marinette reacted to Tim’s words, but she was already sleeping again.

He only looked away from her when Tim punched his shoulder and shoved him toward the door.  “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he snapped.

“Yeah, yeah.  Okay.  Whatever, keep your friend,” Jason waved him off, but his eyes found their way back to her as they left the room.  “Tell me what happened while I raid your fridge.”

Chapter 2

@jasonette-july-event

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July 2021 #Jasonette July #prompt - protection

[blackwidow-bby]

A Case of You -Alcina Dimitrescu x Maiden!Reader

I’ve been wanting to write something based on the song ‘A Case of You’ by Joni Mitchell. Alternatively the K.D. Lang version is also very good and meaningful to me. Also who better to write with than really tall vampire mommy 😭

As always feedback is appreciated highly! Thank you for reading 💙

Warnings: blood, and smut (18+) little babies

🩸🩸

You had been polishing the silverware reflecting on the years that you had been in Castle Dimitrescu. 3 short but eventful years. At the beginning it was hectic, bouncing between all of the orders from the daughters and those of the Lady herself. Cleaning up countless messes left around as if they were guests in their own home. Clothes here, blood stains there, broken plates and cups everywhere. It had been as if your birth in the village was a curse, born to feel ashamed of poor class. A majority of the women that lived in the village knew that the only fate of their futures was to be sent to work for Castle Dimitrescu until the end of their days. Once the fair young women reached 18 that was where they were sent. Of course not all of them were so “lucky”. The rest of the women and all of the men were left to the struggles of the small village left to the devices of the surrounding lycans of the other lords. Or worse, kidnapped never to be seen again.

Most of the villagers rumored that those that disappeared were taken by the holy Mother herself and experimented on. Everyone knew what she could do, but for all of the bad sometimes holy Mother Miranda brought some good. One time before sweet Imelda lost her leg to a lycan attack, she saw the fainted mark on the side of its face. The same mark her husband had upon his face on the same side, before his disappearance traveling back to town. As she was dragged back safely by a couple farmers who managed to kill the sickly beast, the only sounds that all of the inhabitants could hear were her screams of her husbands name. Utterly distraught that she could become so unrecognizable enough to his dead eyes that in his transformation could still cause her deadly harm. He never had an angry bone in his body, but if that rumor was true, the experiment had created a monster of a once calm man.

All of your years weren’t as hectic as the first year. Eventually the lady of the house had taken a liking to your work. Always quick to come and cater to any mundane request her and her daughters had demanded of you. Actually now that you think, you can’t remember the last time any of your orders came from the daughters. They only came from the head maid or Lady Dimitrescu herself. A small quirk of your lips found it’s way thinking of your Lady.

Shortly into your second year she began to request you privately into her bed chamber. The first time she asked for you, you had been scared that your end had found it’s way sooner than you would have liked. Your heart was racing in your chest, begging your feet to be just as erratic on the way to her room. Somehow you managed to compose your pace but your heart insisted on faltering you. You knocked three times on her door upon arrival. You were unsure if she had heard, the doors of the castle were solid wood and although your hands were not soft due to the amount of work you were asked to do, your knuckles certainly weren’t hard enough to evade a slight throb from the hefty door.

Her voice crooned from with in, “Come in, my dear.” You opened the door to her chambers carefully as to not slam the wood open and not damage whatever might be on the other side of its radius. She smiled down on you very sweetly. There was something in here eyes. It felt almost like an admiration. You wiped that thought from your mind as quickly as it came. Why on earth would she ever admire you.

She sauntered toward where you stood and slowly lifted her hand. The fear you harbored for the Lady caused you to flinch at her movement. She had never laid a hand upon your person but that did not mean your time would not come.

Your flinching halted her movements. Her expression changed but only slightly. “My dear, I am not going to harm you in such a way.” She had lowered her voice in the close proximity of your bodies. You opened your eyes once more to see her gently place her soft gloved hand upon your head. Gently she moved it down by your ear and caressed the side. “Come to me little one.”

You followed her to her vanity. The space was tidy with neatly placed powders and lipsticks and other make up you had never seen any of the women of the village actually own. She sat down on her chair in front of the vanity. All of the furniture you noticed was made to her size in this dim room. None of the maids were ever called to clean this space, it made you wonder if she even used it at all. Maybe the Lady chose to take care of her own space in a way she knew no one could ever recreate or perfect to her liking. She hummed and pulled your hand to her. In her glorious size, she picked you up and placed you on her lap facing the large mirror. Your eyes shifted between her and your own height. Even perched on her Lady’s lap, your height was still shorter than her own.

Her eyes never met yours even as she slightly moved about to gather a soft brush and place it closer within reach. Your heart was still bounding in your chest trying to make sense of what was perspiring at this moment. The Lady removed her gloves by pulling one finger at a time until they could slip off smoothly. She then reached up and began to undo the clean French braid your hair was done in. She was being so kind and so soft with you, you were baffled. She started to unwork the three strands until she reached your scalp. You moved in tandem with the Lady as she reached again to grab the brush and began at the bottom of where your hair reached. Her ministrations were so soft it allowed your heart to calm. You kept your hands in your own lap, not daring to speak before being spoken to or move before being asked to move. Your Lady focusing solely on brushing the tangles from your hair allowed your own eyes to look about the space you sat. Her only task to groom your tresses, allowed you to get a good look at her face. Her lips and cheeks looked so soft. Her face wasn’t stoic but content in the space. She certainly didn’t look as nervous to have you here as you did to be here. Occasionally her hand would come around the underside and her knuckles would gently brush against your clothes back.

Everything she did was so calm and planned and relaxing. You took the rest of the opportunity to admire her further. Her raven dark locks meticulously curled in their places. Her hat always cocked to the side on her head, you wondered if it ever got in the way. She certainly never let it bother her if it did. The sudden speaking of her voice caused you to jump due to how silent it was seconds before, “I had been admiring you from afar for a while now. I’m sure you have an idea of why you had been called to my chambers after not being asked to before.”

Your voice betrayed you, you had been silent for too long. “Y-yes my Lady. I think I know why I’m here.” She hummed again. You felt the brush finally make its way to your scalp. The bristles were so soft and comforting they made your eye lids heavy. Seeing that she was done with her work on your hair, she placed the brush back in its spot and made eye contact with you through the mirror. She looked at you for a couple minutes more until she spoke again. “You’re always so quiet and kind around everyone here. My daughters can have a way with making the maids end up with either tougher skin or breaking their calm façade.” She was now running her fingers down the length of your back over your uniform. “But not you. You are still the same as you were when you showed up. Quiet and composed.” You weren’t sure if you should thank her for the compliment or be offended by being told that you haven’t changed. You felt like you could handle anything after the tortures her daughters could put maids through.

You could feel her hands moving back up your back and over your shoulders. Her cold slender fingers found your collar while the other hand swayed your hair over your left shoulder no doubt to expose your neck to her. This is it. This is how you end. What a lovely way to die. Her faced inched closer to your exposed neck and you could feel her breath inches away from the space. Your eyes couldn’t seem to move away from her though. You watched the whole thing and how her face never changed emotion. Everything she had done with you was in admiration. Like she longed for what you could offer her as if she didn’t have everything she could want in this castle.

Her face inched closer until you felt her lips press against the spot she was just eyeing. She lightly kissed you and reveled in the sounds you let escape. A chill ran down your body and found purchase in your stomach. You could feel the butterflies going crazy. Yes truly what a lovely way to die. You braced yourself when you saw her go to bite. Braced yourself for the white hot pain to shoot across your whole body but it never came. Instead the only thing you felt was pleasure. She continued to suck in the same spot for moments more. It all made you feel a growing knot down lower. Her strong arms encircled around your waist to hold you tightly as if you could slip away at any moment. You felt them hugging you tightly. The embrace soothed every part of you. You had never felt so cared for.

Unconsciously you noticed that your hands found purchase upon her own. Her face lifted from the crook of your neck, not a smudge to be seen or hair out of place. You could feel her lips by your ear. “I could drink a case of you, and still I would be on my feet.” She whispered and it made you visibly shudder in need. What kind of affect was she having on you?

“You must never speak of this with anyone”

🩸🩸

She requested you many more times and each one was just as delicate and sweet as the last one.

“You’ve been polishing that spoon for an awfully long time, dear.”

Your head whipped around at the Lady’s sultry voice. Your Lady, you thought. “What is it that has your mind occupied?” She questioned.

“Nothing my Lady. I was simply thinking of you.”

She smiled a genuine smile at you and reached her hand toward you. You walked up to her and laced your fingers with hers. Every moment you spent with her you cherished since the first. She reserved so much kindness for you. Internally she ached for the next time she would request you again. Thinking of the way your blood tasted on her lips. So bitter and so sweet. She couldn’t help but want something slightly different this time.

You both made your way to her private chambers once more like clockwork. She allowed you to enter before bending her way inside. You immediately walked over to her vanity as that was where she always fed from you right after brushing out your hair. You turned to her and smiled but she stopped next to her own bed. “Come here to me, my little love.” You walked up slight confusion on your face. “If any of this makes you uncomfortable, I want you to stop me. Can you do that for me, draga mea?” You nodded slightly. She sat down on the edge of her bed and reached her hand to wipe the wrinkle that etched on your forehead in your confusion.

“My little doe, you mean more to me than you could ever know.” She pulled your hand to her and moved both of you to the head of the bed. Gently she cupped your chin in her large hand. You closed your eyes and suddenly you felt her lips press against yours. Gods they were so soft but so cold. You reciprocated her kiss. Alcina had craved this for too long but she needed to pace herself. She has the rest of the afternoon until the night to indulge in anything your freely gave to her. You didn’t move to stop her and she took this as invitation to continue further. Keeping your lips pressed to hers, her hands roamed your body lower than just your back. She relished in the soft skin of your thighs and the way you felt under material that had softened from years of wear and wash. She couldn’t help but think of how your bare skin would feel under her own hands.

Your own arms snaked their way to her face as you cupped the sides with both hands. Your lips continued to move in tandem with her own letting soft whimpers escape here and there. Her hands grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly made her way up to removing the garment. You whined when she separated the kiss to completely remove the dress. “Are you still okay, little doe?” You answered with a small yes and moved to undo the buttons behind her own dress. Once the buttons were undone enough to slide her dress down you moved the sleeves down her muscular arms. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of looking how small your body was compared to hers. How soft and unblemished your skin was. All she wanted was to kiss every soft inch. Even the one side of your neck that she fed from ceased a single indent. She always made sure to feed carefully as to not rise suspicions.

She pulled you back into her slightly laying over you and began to kiss you once more as her hands roamed to your chest. She wrapped her hand around to undo your bra carefully to free your soft tissue from their confines. She separated once more to look at all of you that was exposed. The gods certainly took their time in creating such a spectacular woman she had thought. Her whole hand moved down to palm your breast lightly. She could feel the bumps raise and your nipple harder under her touch. You let out a little moan under her touch. She could spend eternity doing anything to hear your little sounds. Little sounds only she could make you release. She looked into your eyes creating the distraction for her hand to move to your underwear. You stared deep into her golden orbs never breaking as she sought out your core with her finger. Your breath hitched when you felt her slide down your soft folds and move back up to your clit. You were warm and wet and all for her. Alcina’s sweet little doe. She pressed a small peck to your lips then moved her mouth down to your breast that her hand had just been. She began to suck as she teased the entrance to your tight hole. She relished in the feeling of your most intimate parts and the sounds she could draw out from your delicious mouth. You were arching your back into her wanting nothing more than to be so close to her.

Your hands gripped anywhere the could. Her arms, shoulders, neck, hair. Everything she was doing made your brain go crazy. You did everything you could to find where your hands fit best. Her soft tongue swirled around your nipple while the tip of her finger pressed deeper into you. She was losing patience in having more of you and it was taking everything in her body not to devour before she was content you felt as good as she did all those times she tasted your blood. But damn did she want all of it. He finger pressed deeper until she was down to her knuckle. Your soft panting didn’t give any indication that you were in pain. She started to move her finger in and out at a slow pace to get your body use to the intrusion. Your panting grew louder and so did your moans. You wish you could feel this way everyday from this moment on. So cared for, so deeply wanted. Alcina kissed her way up from your breast to your neck. Leaving light nips and soft kisses near where she could feel your pulse quicken. He finger moved faster inside of you, pressing at your soft walls until she found that spongey spot that would surely get more sounds out. She had to take her time though.

‘Ohs’ and ‘ahs’ were all you could really get out along with all of your sickeningly sweet moans. Alcina never expressed out loud but she wanted you to say her name. Moan her name out from your lips, cry to the gods or whoever would listen that she could make you feel bliss like you’ve never felt before. No one ever got this much want out of her. She never wanted anyone the way she wants you right now. The way she’s been wanting you since you came to the castle. Her little doe unraveling under her half naked body. You were finding it harder to contain any noises and began to moan louder the faster her finger moved. All of a sudden curled her fingers, hitting that one spot. “My Lady!” It made Alcina hummm. “Tell me little doe, do you know my true name?” It took every fiber of your being to come up with an answer for your Lady. “N-no my Lady. T-the maids, they d-don’t talk.”

It was amazing you could come up with that through your haze. The Lady was sucking on your neck while she curled her finger more to get you to come undone the way she wanted. “It’s Alcina little one. I want to hear my name fall from your lips.” The knot in your stomach grew. You were getting very close from her sinful fingers buried inside your tight hole. Alcina could feel your Wales tightening around her. As she felt you get closer she bit down on your neck to drink from you the way she had truly craved. The knot broke and you came hard on her fingers, screaming her name to the high heavens. She continued to feed through your orgasm and once she felt your walls stop pulsing she lid her finger out and detached away from your neck.

You were sweating at this point. Utterly spent wrapped up with your Lady holding you tight. She wiped the little droplets that formed on your neck and pulled you onto her as close as she could get you. Your head rested there on her chest still panting. She would go to the farthest parts of the world for you. Hopefully she would have all of the time to prove it to you now.

“I could drink a case of you.” She whispered into your hair before placing a kiss to your crown. You mumbled a little getting more comfortable and sinking into Alcina’s chest.

Sleep began to take over you. “I would still be on my feet.” Was the last thing you said before slumbering in your Lady’s arms.

🩸🩸

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x maiden #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x maiden #alcina fic #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[sarcasmandships]

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”  

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”  

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

 “where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

 “bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #David Rossi #Penelope garcia #the bau #angst #hurt and comfort #spencer reid imagine hurt

[myonepiece]

Hello 😳 so I saw your post about Kyoshiro and Bartolomeo with a clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat, and let me tell you, that post AWAKENED something inside of me 🤤💞 so I would like to request a King, Sanji, and Mihawk with clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat if your request are still opened that is 😚👉👈 thank you in advance, and you can ignore this request if you want. I hope you have a good day or night luv 😚💗

King, Sanji with a clingy short fem!S/O who’s a scaredy cat

King x Reader,   Sanji x Reader

Description: King & Sanji (seperate) with a short fem!S/O who is clingy and gets scared easily + oneshot/drabble with her getting scared and hiding behind character

Warnings: very mild implied sexual harrassment (in King’s oneshot), mild cursing

A/N: I’m so glad you liked it, it was so fun to write! 💐 (I love how you used so many emojis in your request) and I hope it’s okay I only did sanji and king, it’s just that this situation ends up fairly long 💕

*for King let’s say you’re around his height, the top of your head is a little above his waist 

King is definitely not the most affectionate person, he’s not a fan of PDA other than having you sit on his lap. if you get too physically affectionate (which is very) then King will warn you in a stern voice to stop, and if you don’t then he’ll move you away or simply place you on the ground and push you away

in private he’s more okay with you being clingy, still not the fondest though

he has nothing against your height, he (secretly) finds it adorable and he likes to watch you walk around the Beast Pirates crew because he finds it amusing to see the height differences between you and everyone else, your height is another reason he prefers having you stay on his lap often or at least have you right next to him- he’s worried someone (Kaido) will step on you

he also likes the way your hand looks on him, whether it’s resting on his arm, his chest, or his own hand, he always stares at the interaction and admires how precious and sweet you look

he sometimes finds your cowardness irritating, but even as he scolds you or strictly teases you for being scared so easily, he’s happy that you come to him to feel safe- honestly he never thought someone would feel safe with him nor did he want someone to until he met you

and after he scolds you he always pushes you away or behind him so he can handle whoever messed with his angel (usually it’s Queen, he likes messing with King and one of the most effective ways to do that is to mess with you) he also uses his wings as somewhat of a shield for you, providing cover usually 

+ oneshot

You tentatively walked through the dimly lit hall in the Beast Pirates base, the cold stone chilling the air around you and creating a slight echo of the patter of your shoes.

keeping your eyes trained on the ground while a few lesser crew members passed you, you followed the little cracks in the stone, branching out and creating intricate patterns- your eyes fell upon a pair of shoes and you froze midstep, looking up and perceiving Queen staring down at you, an unsettling smirk contorting his face

you smiled slightly up at him, trying to step around him and continue only to be stopped by his hand reaching out and tilting your head to look at him, the touch seding shivers down your spine, the bad kind of shivers

it wasn’t unusual for Queen to mess with you, enjoying your disturbed and fearful reactions as the sadistic man he is, and the reaction he gets from King is pure gold to him- he enjoys making King get protective so he can tease him for being so smitten

“______, how bout you come with me! some of the crew are going to sumo wrestle! come see their heads pop off!”

Queen laughed at your unsettled expression before leaning down a bit and blowing smoke out into your face,

“or maybe I should snap the collar on you an’ throw you into the ring”

you gasped, causing Queen to chortle in amusement- you took the moment of his distraction to move away from his touch and scurry off down the hall, hearing Queen call after you in a mocking tone and follow in pursuit

you hurried through the halls and spotted King at the end in the large room at the end, he stood at the table conversing with Jack, though clearly uninterested with the subject

you picked up your pace and your heels clicked against the ground alerting King, who knew you are the only one who wears shoes that make that sound. he turned to the entrance happy to have something to do other than play with Jack, but he didn’t like the worried expression on your face- nor Queen rounding the corner after you having all too familar mischievous expression on his lips. 

scurrying into the room, you ran over to King and hid behind his large wings. his glare never left Queen as the large man entered the room and moved towards where you stood huddled against King’s wings, stopping in front of the armored man and taking a long drag on his cigar. 

“what are you doing you moron”

Queen laughed at King’s protectiveness already showing, finding amusement in his crewmember’s smittenesque.

“I was inviting her to play a game you jackass!”

he laughed heartily at King’s insulted and angry expression. your boyfriend took a step forward, now only a few feet away from Queen- the atmosphere in the room grew tense and Jack was watching with wary eyes matching yours as you watched the two calamities square up, both ready to strike if it came to it. but King is observant, he saw that Queen had no intention of hurting him, he simply wanted to scare you and get a rise out of him.

he scoffed and turned begrudgingly back to you, moving to take a seat at the table and lifting you onto his lap with ease. you settled against his steel covered chest, still slightly shaking from Queen’s scare- King’s eyes narrowed at Queen when he chuckled again and sat in the chair between King and Jack, throwing a wink in your direction. King visibly flinched and his behind left the chair momentarily before returning, remembering that’s what Queen wanted- and you were safe on his lap. 

Sanji is super clingy himself, he has no problem at all with your affection and neediness. he’s always more than happy to hug you or cuddle you or kiss you, it’s one of his favorite things to do- he’s constantly asking himself how he got so lucky to have a girl like you

one of the things Sanji finds most adorable about you is your height, no matter what you do Sanji thinks you’re the cutest thing ever, he’s always offering to carry you, he always pulls you onto his lap- back hugs are another one of his favorite things because your body is so much smaller than his own and he thinks it’s adorable how perfectly you fit in his embrace, and don’t even get him started on how cute your hands look holding onto his hand

your slight cowardness gives him an excuse to hold you even more, he offers his hand or arm for you to hold, and whenever you grab onto him he has to fight back the squeals and focus on the problem at hand, making sure you feel safe and are completely out of harm’s way

+ oneshot 

the island you docked at had a quaint little town, small but bustling with life- you had gone to look at a store for some new clothes. unfortunately you couldn’t find anything and you had to head back to the ship empty handed. to make things even worse, while you were watching the ground you bumped into someone, who happened to be much bigger than you and piss drunk. 

“oi! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, stuttering out an apology that only seemed to make the man madder. 

“you need to fucking watch where you’re... you’re going”

he swayed on his feet and leaned down so that he was face level with you, pointing an accusing finger in your face and once again his alcohol filled breath invaded your senses.

“you-you have no idea who you’re dealing with”

his words slurred together and his unbalance caused him to lean forward slightly and you took a step back- all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice over the crowd’s chatter.

“______-swaaaan!!”

you looked to the side and spotted the relieving blond hair bouncing through the crowd while your boyfriend quickly weaved his way through the crowd towards you. stopping beside you and throwing his hands wielding shopping bags into the air.

“I got you gifts my beautiful  _____-swan!” 

this is when he noticed the man far too close for his liking, his face fell with his arms, turning to one of suspicion and confusion, then to one of disgust and slight anger. he handed you the bags gently and stepped in front of the man, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“why are you bothering my little _____-swan?”

his voice was tight and you could tell he was mad, but the strager didn’t seem to pick up on the danger in his drunkness. you reached up and clutched the bottom of Sanji’s jacket in your hand, he felt the action rigth away and his anger dissipated and his face broke into a huge grin. he spun on his heel and threw his arms around your waist, picking you up and smushing his cheek against yours while he rambled about how adorable you are- his perfect moment ruined by the stranger’s words.

“she ran into me you bastard, make her *hiccup* apologize before I do”

“oi, don’t ignore me!”

Sanji’s smile faltered slightly and he lifted his foot, spinning quickly and kicking the man with such force that it sent him flying away through the wall of the shop behind. 

“I’m trying to hug my angel! don’t interupt you idiot!”

“_____-swan I’m so sorry you had to see that~!”

you giggled at Sanji’s foolishness, leaning you head down to peck his nose- making his cheeks turn an even brighter red and he squealed. 

“ooh we need to get back to the ship so you can try on the clothes I got for you my dear!”

he placed his arm under you, switching to holding you in a bridal style, and he pranced off down the street towards the awaiting ship- his face still dangerously flushed and his eyes closed in joy.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #sanji imagine #one piece sanji #one piece king #king the wildfire #king headcanons #king imagine #king the wildfire imagine #king x reader

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Oh, to serve a Princess’ - Ray x Reader NSFW fanfiction

Pairing: Ray x implied female reader CW: Face-riding, fingering, slightly obsessive and a little more confident Ray who just wants to be used Word Count: 4.8k Rating: Explicit

You hadn’t seen Ray in a couple of days, almost a week actually. He said he’d been so busy doing another job for the Saviour that he hadn’t even had time to sleep and had been eating at his desk. He cried on the phone that every time he’d tried to sneak out to come and visit you, a Believer had been waiting outside for him to ask where was going. You missed him, that much was obvious from the ache in your heart, but the punch in your stomach was the worry you had for him. You’d been at Mint Eye for several months, but you had yet to see what tied him so subserviently to the Saviour, besides fear. You’d hoped that he’d at least been eating decently while at his desk, but the various candy bar wrapper sounds you had heard over the phone told you otherwise. You couldn’t help but sigh as you stared out of the window into the night sky. The garden was so beautiful, and you knew how much Ray cherished the flowers growing within it. And yet, it brought you little joy to be enjoying it without him.

Averting your gaze towards the small decorative birdcage that resided in the corner of your room, you couldn’t help but see Ray flash before your eyes again as you touched one of the thin metal bars. Even in the dark lighting of your room, the cage glinted a brilliant gold. You supposed that the cage was just like Magenta. It was so pretty and ornate that, surely, a bird would  want  to fly willingly towards the gilded embrace it to be loved safely from within its bars. A small bird that longed for protection, to live peacefully. However, it was only when that bird flew into the cage that they would realise it was exactly that:  a cage.  You felt sick, wiping your fingers against the fabric of your black dress. You’d previously been wearing the dresses that Ray had brought you but they were being cleaned and he’d told you he’d gotten you a new dress, but you hadn’t seen him since he mentioned it. So, you remained in the Mint Eye standard black dress, it was pretty, so you didn’t mind. You looked back between the cage and the garden and figured that the garden would be the lesser of two evils since you’d at least be able to get some fresh air. You grabbed your phone, ID card, and a light shawl just in case it was cold. You didn’t have many shoes with you, but the ground looked dry enough to just wear some light slip-on shoes.

You looked back at the cage once again before swiftly making your way to the door, pulling it open, and having your heart jump out of your chest immediately. Someone was on the other side. It took a second or two for your eyes to adjust and to realise that it was Ray. He hardly looked like Ray. His under-eyes looked practically bruised, he’d lost more weight and he was swaying slightly. He utterly looked  exhausted.

‘Ray, are you okay?’ You asked, taking in his appearance. He had brought you a bouquet of gorgeous red roses, but you were more concerned about having him get a little bit of colour in his  cheek  than the deep rouge of the petals.

‘Yes! I am fine, please do not worry about me, my sweet flower. Might I come in? I know it’s late… I’ve only just finished my work.’

‘Of course, you can but… Ray, you should get some rest first.’ You replied, very much wanting him to get the sleep that he had been so deprived of.

‘A-ah, yes, of course… I did not mean to be a burden, I just hoped I could see you. I went to pick these flowers before I came here, to make up for not visiting’ His half-gloved hands moved the flowers towards you, a pleading look sneaking onto his face. He knew exactly how to have you putty in his hands.

‘Oh, Ray. You’re not a burden. Come in, please, sit down and eat something. They’re so pretty, you know that red roses are my favo- A-ah! Ow!’ you flinched, pulling your hand back from the roses. You’d pricked your finger on a rose thorn. It was only a small drop of blood and didn’t particularly hurt after the initial sting. It was just a tiny dot of blood but, to Ray, it was as though his love had directly hurt you. You didn’t think it was possible, but the colour seemed to drain from his face even more as you watched the panic strike across his features.

‘My princess, I’m so sorry! This is all my fault, I should have de-thorned the roses! I’m so stupid! Useless! I didn’t think and now  you’re h-hurt!’   Tears began to well in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful, even then.

‘It’s okay, Ray! It’s just a little bit of blood, I just need to take the thorn out.’ You tried to console him as he blamed himself.

‘Please, allow me.’ Ray followed you into the room hurriedly, locking the door behind him. He took the roses from you and placed them on your vanity table. He knew his way around your room very well, since he had personally designed it, and retrieved a small first-aid box from your bathroom. You didn’t think he needed to go to such an effort for such a small, insignificant injury, but figured it would probably bring him a little bit of joy to let him care for you after not being able to see you for so long. He guided you towards your bed, as though you were mortally wounded, and sat down next to you as he fumbled through the small box. He set aside a small band-aid, disinfectant spray, tweezers, and cleaning wipe. You felt bad for worrying ray, especially since he’d had such a rough few days, so you wanted to try and lessen his emotional burden by taking the blame.

‘I’m so clumsy, I usually burn my hands a lot.’ You started before laughing and adding ‘Maybe I should get a pair of gloves like yours, so I stop hurting my fingers so much.’

‘My gloves stop me from biting my nails so much. I often don’t realise I’m doing it but sometimes I just get so anxious. My Saviour told me to wear them to stop biting at my nails and to hide them from her sight, she says my hands aren’t pretty to look at. That they’re a sign of my weakness… Maybe, when I get stronger, I’ll be okay without them. I’m sorry, I need to take the thorn out…’ He whispered as he used the tweezers to remove the thin spike from your skin, making the blood form in a little bubble on the surface of your skin. You could feel your heart clenching as you heard Ray speak about his gloves, and part of you wished you hadn’t mentioned it.

‘It’s okay. I like your gloves Ray, they make you look princely.’ You smiled, using your other hand to gently place your hand on his knee. You felt him tense up for a moment before ever-so-slightly moving closer into your touch.

‘Princely? I-I don’t think I’m good enough for that… but, I’d like to be your prince, if you’d let me, princess.’ Ray replied, averting his gaze back to your finger as he delicately wiped at your finger. Clearly, he was no stranger to disinfecting wounds.

‘You look just like a Prince. I was reading earlier, ‘The Happy Prince’ by Oscar Wilde specifically, and when I read about the Prince having sapphires for eyes, I pictured yours.’ You reached your hand up to stroke his cheek softly with the back of your fingers. You didn’t have the heart to tell him how sad the story of ‘The Happy Prince’ was.

‘Ah… I don’t really know what to say.’ Ray focused on cleaning your finger, his face growing warm under your affection. He couldn’t have hidden the light dusting of a blush even if he had tried.

‘Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to embarrass you… Your eyes are just pretty.’ You added, worried that you had somehow made him uncomfortable. It was unlike you to be so upfront with Ray, but you just had a pull, a need, to make sure he knew how precious he truly was. He’d never think it for himself, so you wanted to make sure someone told him, at the very least, that he was cherished.

‘P-pretty? I’ve never considered myself pretty, but I like pretty things, like you, and flowers, and the sky… Will you allow me to do something a little bolder than usual?’ He asked, pulling his icy eyes up to meet your gaze for a moment.

‘Of course.’ You knew he’d never do anything without your consent, and you trusted Ray to always treat you with tenderness, so even his ‘boldness’ was sweet. He took a quick intake of breath before bringing your fingertip up to his lips and placing the softest kiss upon where the small prick of blood had begun to reappear, leaving a tiny dot of red on his lips when they left your flesh.

‘I want to… be a Prince for you. They kiss their beloved’s hands, right? And uhm, they- they kiss their love to break the spell.’ He spoke, looking back at your hand as he cupped it with both of his own.

‘True Love’s first kiss? But we’ve kissed before.’ You added, a little confused. You’d done more than kiss before, you’d been with Ray for a few months and the intimacy had been forthcoming. Ray’s adoration was obsessive and, whilst he struggled to accept it, no amount of physical affection was ever enough. He always craved more from the second it was over. But he was uncertain and shy, so sometimes he didn’t know how to ask for more and would, in turn, suffer until you next bestowed it upon him.

‘I wasn’t a Prince then… I want to look after you and treat you like a Princess.’ He said, wrapping the band-aid around your finger and only released your hand to tidy the first-aid box away. You noticed that he hadn’t wiped the blood from his lips despite there being no way that he wasn’t aware of its presence. It was probably the most colour he had on his face at that moment, even in the dim lighting of your bedroom. Ray was almost ghostly in appearance, and yet, so beautiful. It pained you that he couldn’t see that in himself.

‘Okay, you can be my Prince, Ray.’ You whispered. It took a moment for him to hesitate before he tentatively pressed his lips against yours. You hadn’t seen Ray for so long, you had almost forgotten how much you craved his touch. His lips were cold and chapped, more so than usual because of having not looked after himself properly. There was a small tinge from the metallic taste of blood before it quickly vanished, and you could taste the hint of all the sugary snacks that Ray had been subsisting on in his IT room. He was quicker to deepen the kiss than usual, not that you were complaining, but at some point or another: you needed to stop to breathe. It was painfully obvious by the darkening look in Ray’s eyes that he’d have much rather given you his last breath than to pull apart for just a moment longer because as soon as he could, he was back to steal intoxicating kisses from you. You supposed it was due to the lengthy separation that had made Ray be this needy, almost to the point of  obsessive , but his kisses were like a drunken summer’s evening: warm and yearning. Yearning for the heat he was so constantly deprived of.

This wasn’t your first time together, so Ray knew what you liked. He knew you liked when he kissed down your neck, when his fingertips danced along your bare shoulders, or when you could feel him whispering into your ear. He was always so meticulously focused on pleasing you that always knew what to do even if he didn’t always have the confidence to execute it without coaxing. This was not one of those times. Ray felt this hunger for you each time, but this time, he didn’t feel the same level of uncertainty that he usually did. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was having not had his hands on you in almost a week, but at that moment: you were the drug that Ray was the most addicted to. As he kissed along your neck, your hands found their way into his soft, white hair. Without either of you mentioning it, you both fell back onto the bed together, with Ray leaning over you to continue kissing the sensitive skin on your throat. You couldn’t help but let out small gasps and whimpers under his touch, you really had missed him, after all.

‘Ray…’ You half said, half-moaned. You could feel yourself getting turned on, but the rational part of your brain was reminding you that Ray should get some sleep after having worked for such a long period of time. You wanted him to look after himself, even though that clearly wasn’t at the forefront of his own mind in that moment.

‘Yes, my Princess?’ He pulled away from your neck to ask, looking down into your face from above. He was panting slightly, and you didn’t think it was just from the kissing. Like you, he was flushed in the face and his eyes were half-lidded from sheer  hunger.

‘Don’t you think… that you should get some sleep? You were working for so long.’ You said, reaching a hand down from his head to cup his face.

‘D-do you want me to stop?’ Ray asked quickly, a moment of panic flashing that perhaps he had gotten too ahead of himself, that you didn’t want his touch.

‘No, but you’re tired and-’

‘This…is nothing. What kind of Prince doesn’t give his Princess the attention that she deserves, especially after he’s neglected her all week? I-I’ll do anything you ask of me, since it’s you.’ Ray was relieved that it wasn’t him misreading the situation, and you were just concerned for his wellbeing. This wasn’t the lost endurance test he’d had; he could stay awake a little bit longer if it meant getting to be in your company. That much he could manage.

‘A-ah…’ You gasped as he turned to kiss along your bare shoulder. You had missed the sensation of being underneath him like this. His cravat was lightly tickling your chest and you laughed involuntarily. He didn’t take his mouth off of you, but you felt him reach up to his neck with one hand and tug the cravat loose, so it didn’t tickle you as much. He also undid his top button, probably to allow himself to breathe better.

‘H-how do you want me to please you?’ Ray asked, still looking for the confidence to be bolder with verbalising what he wanted to say.

‘Mhm, touch me… Ray.’ You moaned into his ear. You decided that if he really wanted to spend the night with his first moment of freedom, who were you to deny the both of you that enjoyment?

‘Like- like this?’ He asked as he tentatively laid on the bed, half next to you and half on top of you. His gloved hand slowly moved up towards your inner thigh as you parted them to grant him access. Ray’s hand disappeared underneath the hem of your black dress as his fingers found the fabric of your underwear. His confidence seemed to falter for a moment of uncertainty until your own hands found their way into his hair again and you pressed a few butterfly kisses against his sharp jawline.

Usually, Ray took his gloves off to touch you since you wouldn’t actually see his hands in the darkness, but this time he kept them on, primarily because you said that you liked them, and secondly because he wanted to live up to the princely imagery you had described to him. His fingers pressed against you gently, moving in small circular motions up and down the length of you. He’d occasionally vary the pressure depending on which spot he was touching, since he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. He was teasing you and he didn’t even realise he was doing it. Ray quickly found the spot which made you moan the most. Since he was wearing his gloves, he couldn’t physically feel how turned on you were, so he relied on the mewls you emitted to know that he was doing a good job.

‘More… please.’ You sighed underneath his touch. Ray’s hand found its way into your underwear and you moaned into his mouth as you continued to kiss him, It was safe to say that the situation that definitely gotten heated, but you couldn’t tell from whose face the heat radiated the most, ‘Yeah, just like that…’ You affirmed as his fingers circled around your folds, occasionally teasing at your clit. You briefly wondered why he’d didn’t keep his gloves on for this more often, it felt so good. It carried a certain emotion, being touched with leather gloves, that was making you physically weak at the knees. As much as you enjoyed the feeling of his skin on you, you couldn’t deny that the gloves were definitely doing it for you too. He could feel the slickness of your arousal as his gloved fingers slid along your folds until you were melting against his chest. Ray liked that he was in a position to be able to continuously kiss you as he stroked you, he needed all of you at once. He wanted to be in every single one of your senses, the same way that you were all-encompassing to his. His fingers left you briefly, and you mourned for the sudden lost sensation.

‘My princess, would you mind, uhm, lifting your hips up for me?’ He asked in a husky manner that was almost unlike him. He sounded so needy, you immediately complied and helped him to remove your underwear. While you were there, you also kicked off the slipped that you had put on for your long-forgotten walk into the garden. Once you laid back down, Ray’s obsessive hands soon found their way back to your body.

After another minute or so of circling your clit, his fingers lowered themselves to your entrance. He waited, asking for permission, before slowly entering you with his hand. As always, he was patient with your body, especially after having not touched you for a while. He added one finger at first, moving it slowly to let you adjust, before quickly adding another. You had missed the feeling of having him inside you like this. Ray had to adjust his wrist slightly before he continued to let him curl his finger against you, rubbing along your wall in a ‘come hither’ motion. While you had some lube in your bedside table, you didn’t think there’d be a need for it, since you could feel how turned on you were from the cool air hitting the wetness on your  thighs.  You moaned out affection and affirmations to Ray as he increased his speed as he let you pull him into kisses at will or held his head against your chest. However you wanted to hold him, he’d happily go along with it.

‘It’s so good, Ray- ah, right there!’ You choked as he hit the spot that made you almost see stars. He tried to focus on hitting that spot, again and again, his hand becoming wetter and wetter which each passing tap on your g-spot. You were somewhat embarrassed that you could actually hear the motion of Ray’s fingers moving in and out of you but it just seemed to spur him on more. He really was talented with those fingers.

‘I want... more. I saw something that I want to try. I-I promise I’ll do my best to make it feel good… I don’t quite know how to phrase it. I want to taste you, from above-’ He explained, slightly haphazardly.

‘Are you sure? Won’t I be too heavy?’ You questioned; a little bit uncertain of his request.

‘Of course not. In the video I saw, they used a pillow to support their neck and-’ He started, but you couldn’t help interject with laughter.

‘Ray, were you watching porn?’ It just seemed so out of character for him.

‘No! I mean, technically, yes. It wasn’t mine… I was checking that none of the Believers were trying to look at stuff they shouldn’t be and I… found a video. I thought it looked like you might enjoy it. I found that I… wanted to please you like that.’ His face flushed with embarrassment, even after everything that had just happened, he was suddenly embarrassed that he stumbled across and watched a porn video.

‘We can try it, if you want.’ The embarrassment spread from Ray to you, realising that you were, in fact, going to be sitting on his face. You were a little bit self-conscious about your body, so you said you wanted to keep your dress on, and Ray replied that thought you were beautiful, but he understood body issues and wouldn’t push you since this was already out of your comfort zone. Ray removed his fingers from you again and, with his other hand, he laid a pillow flat on the bed and positioned it so his neck was supported at a slight angle. You were a little nervous about hurting him, but since he wanted to try it, you were willing to give it a try.

You sat up, unsure how to how exactly you were supposed to get on his face without crushing him, but still equally as desperate for stimulation. You lifted your dress up and bunched it at your hips, throwing one leg over Ray’s chest so you were almost straddling him at the next. You waited for him to give the okay to move closer and put yourself in his mouth. You felt his hands steady your thighs as he nudged you close to him, clearly equally as eager to use his mouth on you as you were to have him do it.

Ray started with a few small, sensitive kisses along your folds, earning small shudders from above. You felt a little scared to move, in case you fell and hurt him, so you intended to just let him take his time in what he was doing, he was going you so much attention after all. You felt him stick out his tongue and run it in a line up and down you, your breath hitching in your throat when he grazed it over your clit again and again. And then, almost all at once, Ray pushed your hips into your face, so you were completely on his mouth. It was as though something took over him, a hungry desire that he didn’t verbalise, but you could see burning in his eyes as he took mouthful after mouthful of you, You threw your head back in pleasure and choked out his name in broken moans. You hadn’t expected Ray to be so upfront with wanting to do something like this, and then actually taking control with it.

His gloved hands were on your hips, moving you over his mouth with speed. He was practically  begging  you to use him, to let him make you feel good. Ray wanted nothing more than to be useful to you, especially like this. He  needed  that useless body of his to be good for something, to be good for you. He’d never want for anything ever again if you were to, at the very least, allow him to stay by your side like this. This much he could do. Was it selfish of him to think such a thing? Perhaps. But he decided that, with everything he’d endured in his life, he was allowed to keep that one selfish thought close to his heart. It was a little difficult for him to manage while you were obstructing his view, but Ray undid his trousers and began lightly touching his own erection since it had become uncomfortable to ignore, using your own arousal on his gloves as a lubricant. He was already painfully hard from pleasuring you, but he didn’t need any of the attention to be on him tonight, he wanted to be there just to please you, to  serve  you.

He stroked himself with one hand and continued to guide you over his face with the other. He  particularly  liked it when you found the confidence to grip your hands in his hair and start moving yourself against his tongue, using him in the way he wanted you to. You had already been starting to get close to an orgasm when Ray had had his hands inside of you, so it didn’t take very long for the sensation to start building once again. Personally, Ray didn’t have too much stamina so he had to delay his own orgasm for as long as possible to be able to continue watching the show above him to his utmost benefit. He preferred watching you as you moved against him, and he felt drunk when you made eye contact with him whilst you did it. He was the only one who got to see you like this,  the only one.  He didn’t care what he had to do to keep it that way, he’d be possessive, obsessive, compulsive if needs be to ensure that that would remain the case.

Above, you felt the pressure of an orgasm building quickly under the merciless assault of Ray’s tongue. You could feel that Ray was picking up his own pace and moaning onto you, which felt fucking  great.  He was starting to get close too, which made sense because of how aroused he had been just from touching you. Besides, he definitely hadn’t had any time to release himself all week, he was probably just a bit pent up too.   His lips were pursed over your clit, swapping between kissing it and sucking on it and then using his tongue when you picked up speed in order to let you fuck yourself on it, praises and prayers falling freely from your mouth.

‘Fuc- Ray! I think I’m gonna-’ You didn’t even have a chance to finish your statement before Ray picked up the speed he was moving your hips at, quickly sending you over the edge in his mouth. Did he stop moving you, just because you’d climaxed?  Absolutely not.  Through the blinding pleasure, Ray continued to use his mouth on you until your legs started to twitch from the overstimulation. It was watching you writhe above him, knowing that he’d done such a good job that allowed him to find his own orgasm too, quickly releasing over his hand. He touched himself through his peak, mentally visualising how both of your arousals must look mixed between his fingertips. He closed his eyes, feeling lost in the moment where all of his pent-up frustrations from the last week came crumbling down into a moment of practical peace.

When he was done, you removed yourself from his mouth and collapsed on the bed next to him. You were both panting heavily as you crawled to his side, placing exhausted kisses along his jaw and temple. His hair was a mess from where you’d run your hands through it, but you thought it just made him look cute. You weren’t surprised to see how quickly the exhaustion took over Ray after he caught his breath and you convinced him to take the risk and sleep in your room for the night, since you weren’t entirely certain he’d made it all of the way back to his own room without passing out. You took turns in the bathroom, cleaning yourselves up from the unfolded events of the night, and crawled into bed together.

‘I love you, Ray. I really do.’ You said, embraced in one another’s arms in the darkness.

‘I love you too, my sweet Princess.’ He replied, clearly trying to fight off the sleep to continue talking to you.

You pressed one more kiss into his pale cheek, ‘I wish you’d know how precious you were to me.’ You whispered, but he was already unconscious.

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