Stiles is about to leave the locker room until he sees Lydia staring down at the floor with a very guilty expression on her face. Stiles stops in his place and asks “what’s wrong”. Lydia is shaking her head with tears in her eyes “I didn’t say it back”. Stiles turns around with a surprised look on his face. He knew exactly what she was talking about but still felt the need to slip out the small question “what?” Lydia uses her left hand to take one of his hands and walks him over to the same spot they once kissed. “Do you remember this… Remember this exact spot”. Stiles smiles at her “how could I forget, you saved me from my panic attack” he says this very sarcastically knowing that this place had more meaning than an ordinary panic attack. Lydia just let’s out a little laugh. She begins to get fidgety with her fingers. “This place is also filled with guilt, my guilt.” Stiles looks at her with a very confused expression. Lydia let’s out a long breath. She knows she can’t contain this to herself. She can’t live anymore realizing if anything happens to stiles he will never know what she feels. “The moment I kissed you, it changed everything” a broken smile formed on Lydia’s face. “I felt something, something I’ve never felt with anyone in that exact moment. You were this boy I used to not care about, I never gave you my attention, I never talked to you, I thought you weren’t good enough for me. But I was wrong. You grew on me ever since the dance. I realized no boy had ever payed attention to me the way you did. No boy knew how smart I was, or how much I had suffered. You were the only one. And when I kissed you, everything hit me. I was beginning to love you Stiles. It was the same day I had to drown you. It scared me Stiles. It scares me that I could loose you, that you could just easily slip away from me. And then I actually did lose you and it hurt like hell.” Lydia’s voice began to crack, small tears formed around her eyes and rolled down her cheek. “I need you to know this incase anything ever happens to you, if you ever slip away from me again. I need you to know I love you”. Stiles froze in his spot. He looked at her with the same loving heart eyes that had always been reserved just for her. He took 4 steps towards her, gently brushing the tears off her face. They were so close, with their noses almost touching. With a soft smile he whispered “Lydia, I knew.” He closes his eyes to touch her trembeling lips with his. She first takes hold of his waist then she slowly digs her finger tips inside his flannel. Stiles’ hand moves from her face finally down to her waist. He wraps his big protective arms around her small fragile body. They take small breaths in between each kiss. They both knew they’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Too long for the way they were kissing.
Derek wasn’t expected to be back for another 20 minutes, so that still gave you and Isaac plenty of time to go over how to break the news to your brother gently. It took Derek some time to adjust to seeing you and Isaac together, he watched Isaac like a hawk and one step out of line meant trouble.
“You know, I’m starting not to like this idea”. Isaac stated, as he nervously walked back and forth.
Walking up to your
fiancé who’s heart was most likely beating faster than a speeding car, you wrapped a comforting arm around his waist, while leaning your head on the crook of his shoulder. “We have to tell him, it would be worse if he finds out from someone else”.
Isaac turned around and pulled you close, “His not going to like it”.
“His my brother Isaac, you know how over-protective he can be. But I assure you Derek will be happy for us, even if at first he doesn’t exactly show it”.
Suddenly the loft door rolled open and in stepped Derek, looking rather surprised to see the two of you standing in the middle of his place. However his expression was nothing compared to yours or even Isaac’s. “Why do the two of you look so nervous? I can sense the anxiety from here”. Derek stated, taking off his jacket and crossing his arms, looking more alpha like by the second.
Interlocking your hand with Isaac’s, you gave a little squeeze just to provide some comfort. “We actually have some news to share with you”. Derek raised his eyebrow, but that soon faded when he looked down at your hand. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that ring on your finger Y/N?”.
awkwardly, you blurted “Isaac and I are in engaged”. Derek uncrossed his arms and walked up to Isaac, with no indication what he was thinking or even feeling. “Look after her, because if she shows up on my door crying you and me Isaac are going to have some problems”. He firmly stated, and gave Isaac a hand shake to show that he approved.
“I promise you Derek I’ll never hurt her, she means the world to me and I love her more than I can ever put into words”.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you, it warmed your heart to see the two most important men in your life getting along.
UshiTen - rainy day (cuddles, reading, ect.) (thank you :))
“Can I flip the page now?”
“Mm,” Ushijima hums, and Satori can feel his chest vibrate against his back. He decides he likes the feeling. “Not yet.”
“Are you still reading the ads on the side?”
“Yes. This one is about an upcoming movie.”
“Ooh, which movie?”
Ushijima lifts his arm to tap the ad in question, leaning his head forwards a bit to peer around Satori’s shoulder. Satori has to admit he’s not paying as much attention to the words coming out of the other boy’s mouth as much as he’s paying attention to the warmth the other boy is providing him. He leans back slightly, and smiles a little when he feels Ushijima’s arm tighten around his middle in response.
“Hm, wanna go see it when it comes out?”
Ushijima nods, and his chin dips into Satori’s shoulder. He doesn’t remove it.
Satori flips the page after confirming one more time. The room is quiet save for their breathing—now in sync after sitting in that position for a little more than an hour—and the rain slipping against the window pane. It’s a heavy grey outside, but Satori doesn’t really mind it, like he used to, when all he wanted to do was go outside and play volleyball because being stuck inside his house and all its endless freezing silence was the worst thing in the world. But now, he doesn’t mind the quiet. Not when he’s sitting in Ushijima’s arms, not when there’s a steady heartbeat at his back, not when it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t matter at this moment, because right now, it’s just the two of them, and it’s warm.
“Do you want to take a break?” Ushijima asks him.
Satori turns slightly, and catches those calm brown eyes mere inches from his own drooping ones. His lips pull up. “Wanna take a nap with me, Wakatoshi-kun~?”
“Yes,” Ushijima answers without pause, and Satori lets out a laugh. That’s what he likes most about Ushijima. He doesn’t mind it when Satori is loud, but he doesn’t mind it when Satori wants to be quiet, either. He doesn’t mind Satori at all.
The rain continues to come down, but inside Ushijima’s room, two boys drift slowly off to sleep, curled against each other and breathing in sync.
Hi there! :) I absolutely love your writing, and recently got through reading Stillness Speaks. I was wondering if I could request an idea for another ficlet? A certain part (cough-Noct being salty over Reader conning him out of pastries-cough) made me want to see Reader in action, and Noctis being unable to refuse every time. So one time the Reader pulls it again, and departs with pastries in hand and leaves a kiss on Noct's cheek as they go~ (This sounded much better in my head I promise <3)
Well, anon, this isn’t exactly what you requested… So, I apologize.
In this ficlet, you’re
uncharacteristically smooth. Then again, Iggy’s cooking is
on the line so you’re pulling out all the stops for that shit. FYI,
if you’re finding this separate from the main story, “Run” is
the reader-insert main story for a bit of context (e.g., gender neutral pronouns, Black Mage reader, AU, etc.).
Noctis x Reader: Smoke
Language, Mage Magnetism, Inappropriate Touching, Greedy Noct, Like
Stealing Sweets from a Prince
My contribution to Sinning Sunday. The angst got away from me, but I think I made up for it?
Major props to @selina-kyle21 for forcing me to write, and for coming up with the awesome idea for how the Noah/Ginny scene should go…
More girls night to come in the next chapter!
Ginny wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been expecting when she woke up the next morning. The biggest part of her had expected Mike to be long gone, maybe with a ‘see you at BP tomorrow’ note to remind her of their evening in his wake. A smaller (more optimistic) part of her expected him to still be there, but in a passed out, exhausted way, maybe even on the couch.
What no part of her expected was to wake up with her head pillowed on Mike’s chest and his hand settled on the curve of her ass while he breathed into her hair. Her inner self warred between springing out of bed and throwing clothes on immediately and staying curled up around her captain for as long as she was able. He was just so warm, firm, big underneath her…but the night was over, and reality was going to set in any minute now.
You got this, Baker, one foot and then the other. One, two…
“Rookie, it’s 7am, stop thinking so loudly,” rumbled from above her, and she lifted her chin just slightly to see Mike’s face, one eye closed and the other quirking open to look at her. She stayed frozen in her position, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Lines she should be saying ran through her brain. Lines like, “that probably shouldn’t happen again,” and, “this was a bad idea,” and, “see you tomorrow.”
“I have to get to the gym soon,” came out instead, and was met with a soft chuckle from the man above her.
“And here I thought you might be up for round 2,” he shook his head. “I should have known your workout regimen would get in the way.” He patted her ass lightly before lifting his hand and pushing to a sitting position, bones cracking as he went and forcing her to rise as well.
“Gotta keep biology at bay,” she said lamely, wondering if this sounded like their normal interactions. She couldn’t tell anymore.
“Well I, for one, am taking the off day that God intended,” he chuckled and pushed away from her, retrieving his boxers from the floor. “But you go, get ready. Do you at least have coffee in that abomination they call a kitchen?” He quirked a brow back at her again, and she swallowed hard before nodding.
“Coffee, yes, but not much else,” she hoped the teasing grin looked normal. Apparently she’d forgotten how they were supposed to behave around each other. He nodded in approval and walked out of the bedroom, giving Ginny an unobstructed view of his perfect posterior – back, ass, thick thighs. She ogled him shamelessly until he disappeared from view, and finally slid out of bed to walk to the bathroom.
“Uh huh,” you nodded, flipping through the case files you needed to bag this last drug lord, “and…?”
“Yes! And… and…” He started to speak, but fell silent. After a moment, you looked up to see if he was still there.
“Ed?” You asked, concerned as he stared blankly at you, “Are you okay?”
“…What? Yes, of course,” he insisted, beginning to ramble, “I just…I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but then I actually got over here and I forgot because, gosh, you’re so attractive and when I look at you my brain feels like pudding and you make me want to throw up, but not in a bad way! Of course, not in a bad way, at all. I like when you make me feel like throwing up and everything I’m saying right now should really just be in my head, but my brain doesn’t seem to want to block it out, so I’d very much appreciate it if you please asked me to stop talking.”
“Ed?” You gave him a small smile when he went silent, “You can stop talking, now.” It didn’t really matter what he said, he’d won you over already months ago.
I think I’ve finally put my finger on exactly what it is about the Discworld that had such a profound effect on me.
It starts in Guards! Guards!
There’s this thread – not quite a theme, it isn’t as overt – running through that book, which goes something like this:
If you have faith in people, they will, on the whole, rise to meet it.
You see it in Carrot and Sybil, how they both just believe in Vimes, like it’s a complete given, obviously he can take care of the dragon. Neither of them know him, or even the city, very well, so it’s partly naivete, but the lesson still holds – it’s explicitly stated that the Watch guys don’t want to let Sybil down, and half of Vimes’s heroism in that book is him seeing Carrot getting in over his head and going to back him up. Carrot trusts Vimes at the start because he’s naive, but Vimes refuses to break that trust.
Carrot believes that Vimes will back him up, and so Vimes rises to the occasion. Sybil believes that the Watch will save the city, and so they rise. And, without that faith, they wouldn’t have even tried.
It left a huge but subtle impression on me, I never put my finger on exactly what it was before, but it’s that thread (which shows up in more than just that book) that taught me to believe in people.
It had been twenty minutes since Kili went to the kitchen to
get tea and biscuits but he still hadn’t come back. Maybe he drowned in the
You stood up and walked into the kitchen to see what was
taking him so long. As you got to the door you saw exactly what the issue was.
Kili was jumping up and down trying to grab the biscuits off the top shelf but
he could just about reach the top cupboard, let alone the higher shelves of it.
It was still early morning when I had woken up in the arms of my boyfriend. His sleeping face was close to mine, and his arms were around my thin body holding me close to his chest. I loved waking up before him, to wake up and enjoy these few moments where I can just take him in, where I could simply see him and enjoy him.
His lips were shut in a thin pink line, his vibrant brown eyes hidden behind his pale eyelids. He was beginning to grow a beard it looked like, only in its stubbly stage which I loved on him, but didn’t exactly enjoy when I kissed it. His hair was in a big tangle mess on the top of his head, usually so floppy and bouncy but now tangled like a mop. Mostly my fault for always pulling and playing with it.
I moved my head to his chest listening to the beating of his heart. The soft quiet beats that would always lull me to a quiet slumber. The quiet noises that reminded me I have a reason to stay, and that reason was Daniel. It was my husband who was alive, who made me want to fight to stay through all the good and the bad.
Finally his ritual morning groans and his yawn came indicating he was waking up. That I would be able to see his eyes open and his soft smile spread on his face. He had mumbled a few incoherent words before slowly opening his eyes. I smiled softly looking at him. “Good morning” I whispered as his smile finally came across his lips. His smile, the smile that was for me and for me only because I knew I was the one who was able to put that on his face.
"Good morning little sunshine" he said groggily kissing my forehead and pulled me tighter against his warm chest.
Our mornings, though always the same, were always so special to me. Sacred almost. Every morning we would be together to face the day. Forever we would be together to face whatever the day would bring, but for now, I just wanted to stay in this bed with him.
“Can we have a lazy day?” I asked quietly as his fingers played with my hair. He chuckled softly which shook his chest gently.
“Of course my love.” He said placing a soft kiss on my head as he pulled the covers higher over us both
Your post about columbine and missing Eric is exactly the same as how I feel. I always feel like a little part of him is with me almost... I feel always feel like I'm going to see him but he's not here... :/
Yeah..it’s so sad. And it does feel like he’s still here in some way..or maybe it’s just because it’s all in our head u know… I really feel him close to my heart and he really is so special to me…Sorry, I get so emotional after midnight ahaha i can’t help it..it’s the lack of sleep i guess. Thank you for this ask though <3
The UK, Himuro, and Kasamatsu hear someone calling their s/o ugly, only for her to confidently retaliate "I disagree with your opinion. And I bet my amazing boyfriend would too >: D " (It breaks my heart to see so many requests for insecure readers)
Don’t worry, we got your request! A heads-up to anybody reading this that YOU SHOULD NEVER BE INSECURE ABOUT YOURSELF. Be confident in yourself no matter what others say. Do exactly what this person does here. -Admin Fyre
Kiyoshi would be a bit taken back by the bluntness coming from both parties, seeing as he was such a pacifist. Although he wouldn’t have hesitated to immediately go to his girlfriend’s aid, hearing her response made him both happy and proud.
“Now, now, ________-san, we should be going now.” Kiyoshi still had a cheerful smile on his face as he came up behind them, but there was an ominous aura around him not unlike Hyuuga’s. “We shouldn’t waste our time with these people, hmm?”
He’d been planning to go rip that other guy a new one, but hearing his girlfriend say that with such confidence only brought a grin to his face. Hanamiya looped his arm around her shoulders, giving the other person a lazy smirk. “Y’know, you picked the wrong girl to mess with…but hey, I’m not going to bother with you. I think my girl’s done enough damage. So run along now before I think twice.”
In a way that was a warning even to himself. Hanamyia also had to think twice about what to say to her if he didn’t want to get burned.
Mibuchi had the utmost confidence in his girlfriend and trusted her to be able to deal with other people’s criticism, but he was still surprised at the response she gave. Stepping forward, he wrapped an arm around protectively her shoulders. “Hey, you can’t go around talking to people like that, you know?“ But to be honest (and to Mibuchi’s mild disbelief), his presence didn’t do much to scare the other person away; after all, his girlfriend had done the job. Afterwards he gave her a bit of a talking-to. “I like that you stand up for yourself, but next time maybe give me a warning before you put me in the spotlight like that, ________-chan…”
Unsurprisingly Nebuya was shocked. The poor guy didn’t even know what part of her comebackto be shocked about, so he just stood there openmouthed looking completely lost for words until his girlfriend came padding back to him and asked him what was up, making him realise how unflattering he must’ve looked.
“Uhh…” Nebuya scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “Man, I don’t even know what to say…you really showed them. Hey, did you really mean that? What you said about me?”
She grinned mischievously. “Say, what do you think?”
It was taking everything in Hayama not to just pump his fist into the air and whoop, “Yeah! You tell ‘em!” Well, he did pump his fist into the air, but at least he didn’t yell anything. Grinning from ear to ear, he bounded happily over to his girlfriend. “Ne, ne, ________-chan, that was so cool! You’re amazing!” He didn’t stop talking at all while heading back with her, but he still couldn’t help himself from turning around to face the other guy and sticking out his tongue at them in a childish manner.
“Hayama-kun, stop that. You’ll embarrass us both.”
Normally Himuro isn’t the kind of person to care about what others say (he’d heard enough smack about all kinds of things back in LA: his English, his basketball skills, his hair), but this was one step too far. He was about to cut into the conversation when his girlfriend retorted swiftly with the confident answer, and Himuro felt just as surprised as the other guy looked.
“I didn’t think you had that in you, ________,” he admitted five minutes later, after the other person had scurried away. “You really do surprise me all the time.”
Kasamatsu was totally caught off guard with what his girlfriend had said and was torn between admiring her confidence and reprimanding her for openly calling him that. Quickly he took her by the arm to lead you away from the person who stood openmouthed, and said, gruffly, “Don’t listen to that guy. They don’t know anything about you. And maybe a little warning next time before you say something like that.”
“Like what?” she asked innocently. Kasamatsu went pink and looked away. “N-nothing.”
Requested by Anon:
Can I have a imagine where the reader is dating Derek but stiles likes you and is jealous. And Derek gets mad at stiles. Or something like that
Relationship: Derek Hale/Reader
“I won’t be gone long.” I said, kissing Derek’s cheek. His face was taut, a muscle jumping in his jaw. I paused, looking at him for a moment, then stepped back inside. “If you’re worried that I’m going to get hurt, don’t.” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Sheriff is going to be there the whole time.” I said, pressing my lips lightly to his. When I pulled away his face was still exactly the same, hesitant and tense. I shook my head, opening the door again. “See you in an hour.”
I got in the car, driving over to Stiles’s place. We were going to have a study hour to work on our history homework together. History was my favorite subject, and he had asked me to help him out. Derek always got that way when I went to hang out with Stiles, when Stiles and I talked while they had their wolfy meetings. I didn’t understand why he got so jealous with Stiles in specific–Stiles was one of my really good friends and he was the only one of any of the guys who actually liked spending time with me. I had to leave my car at Stiles’s house as a favor to him while his Jeep was being fixed.
I pulled up the the sidewalk by the Stilinski household, grabbing my bag from the backseat. I was good enough friends with them that Sheriff usually scolded me for using the doorbell. I walked in, giving a warning knock out of politeness and gave a wave to Sheriff.
“You guys having another study date again?” He asked, giving a wink. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.
“It’s not a date, Stiles just needs help with his homework.” I said, blushing and shifting my weight awkwardly. He tilted his head to the side, a goofy smirk plastered on his face.
“Stiles? Needs help with homework?” He asked jokingly. I opened my mouth to respond, but Stiles came bounding down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step.
“Hey! (Y/N)!” He said, leaning over the railing and looking at his dad. “We could study up in my room, if you want.” He offered, seeing me start putting my books on the coffee table. I looked up, flushing, and grabbed my books again.
“Yeah, sure.” I said, following him upstairs.
“Don’t have too much fun up there!” His dad called up the stairs. Stiles laughed uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath. He closed the door, giving me a nervous smile. I smiled back, sitting down on the rug and folding my legs underneath me.
“So. World History.” I started, spreading my books out in front of me.
“Yeah, I hope that helped.” I said, walking down the stairs with Stiles trailing behind me. I shouldered my bag, stopping at the bottom of the steps.
“You should stay a little while longer–I can make something.” He offered, looking toward his kitchen. I smiled, my eyes cast down to the floor. Derek had arrived early, of course, and his car was idling just outside.
“I have to go–Derek is waiting.” I said, biting my lip. He leaned over, looking out the window at Derek in his driveway.
“Oh.” He said, his shoulders slumping fractionally. “Well next time you should stay for dinner.” He said, lifting his gaze back to mine. He was so cute sometimes I just wanted to hug him.
“I will.” I promised, pulling him into my arms. He seemed to tense at my touch, then he relaxed. “I’ll see you soon. I left the car right in front of your house, alright?” I said, turning toward the door. He nodded.
“Alright, bye.” I said, opening his door and stepping out. “Text me!” I called.
Derek was standing with his arms folded across his chest, the leather of his jacket stretched taut across his biceps. His expression was stony cold, his eyes hard. As soon as we made eye contact he turned away, circling to the driver’s side of the car. I bit my lip, holding my breath. He was obviously turned over about something. I got into the car, running my fingers through my hair and dropping my bag by my feet. Derek paused, looking at me for a moment, like he was going to say something.
“You okay?” I asked, knitting my brow in concern. He came back from a lot of pack meetings like this, waiting to vent to me about what was going on. He shook his head, a small growl escaping his lips.
After a moment of driving, he spoke.
“I don’t like him.” He said, his eyes trained on the road in front of us. “I don’t like you hanging out with him.”
I knit my brow, looking at him like he was insane. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, scrunching my nose. What was wrong with him? I’d been studying and hanging out with Stiles for years. We were in almost all the same classes.
“He is obsessed with you.” He said, a bland laugh escaping his lips. I glared at him, in complete disbelief.
“What–wha…” I couldn’t even form words. How would he get that idea? As if on cue, my phone lit up in the cupholder next to me. Derek did a double take, his lip curling.
“Is that–is that him?” I snatched the phone from the center console, pulling it away from his prying eyes. It was Stiles, of course.
“Derek.” I said, almost embarrassed.
“You can’t even try and deny that he likes you.” He said, glancing sideways at me. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks, and kept my eyes outside the window. “(Y/N).” He said, pulling into the driveway of his house.
“Derek. Why does it matter? I don’t like him!” I protested, turning in my seat to face him. His eyes flashed, like he was upset, but his expression softened.
“I don’t….” He didn’t finish, but I knew what he was trying to say. I don’t want to lose you. I closed my eyes, running a hand through my hair.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I whispered, reaching out and taking the collar of his jacket and pulling my lips to his.
“I am.” Robin grits his teeth against the burn as she presses a cloth soaked with disinfectant onto his shoulder. He feels prickling coolness on his skin, and turns his head to see blood seeping from his wound onto the linen, staining it a muddy brown color at first, and then bright red as she clears the dirt.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I should see to my wound.” He swallows, flexes his tense jaw. He’s had much worse.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I would help,” she snaps. He could be healed in minutes with her magic, but he’d insisted none would be used on such a simple thing. Healing magic, he knows, requires positive feelings, good feelings, and he has to admit to some curiosity about whether Regina could manage that with him. Not enough, though, to use something so dangerous to heal a wound so easily fixed through traditional means.
“You don’t have to help, Milady. I’m perfectly capable of bandaging it myself.” Robin rolls his uninjured shoulder, turns his head to ease the muscles in his neck, knows she won’t take the out he’s given her, that she’s far too stubborn.
“Sit still,” she repeats, a hand curling around his shoulder and halting his movements, “and it’s Your Majesty.” She lifts the cloth from his skin carefully, and there is a pause as she inspects the wound, wiping the blood away from the surrounding skin. “You need stitches.”
“I suspected as much.”
“You’re certain its claws didn’t touch you.”
“It was the tree stump it threw me into, Milady. Or rather, that your magic threw me into. We both know I’d be a flying monkey by now if it wasn’t.”
“Well, if you hadn’t been so determined to get in my way—”
He cranes his head around, ignoring the throb his wound gives as he stretches the broken skin, and smiles gently, disarmingly at her.
"What?” Traces of frustration linger in her voice, but he also catches laces of curiosity, and barely suppressed anxiety, and perhaps even (is he imagining it?) the tiniest hint of tenderness.
She looks down, away from his gaze, begins to use a fresh cloth to scrub the traces of his blood off her hands. When he catches her hand, her movements halt abruptly. She still doesn’t look up.
“I get in your way because you are Zelena’s target, and that has only made you more reckless with your own safety.”
She looks straight into his eyes then, hers hard and determined. He gets lost in them, just for a moment, the reflected light of late afternoon, the warm brown tinted darker from the shadow her hair casts over her face “You may be trying to forget at the moment, but I have magic.”
"I do not fear your magic,” he says to her first statement, squeezing her hand, and then, “And you are not invincible.”
They stay like that for a moment, Regina too stubborn to be the first to look away, Robin too determined to make sure she believes his concern.
“Hm?” he hums, his thumb sweeping across her knuckles.
She removes her hand, and he feels the loss immediately, the emptiness. “I need thread, and a needle. For your stitches.”
She returns a moment later from her vanity, a pouch in her hand with the additional medical supplies she hadn’t retrieved before.
“Are you going to sew a wound on your shoulder yourself?” she demands. He hears the rustle of fabric as she lays a cloth on the table beside his chair, the dull sound of the supplies being placed on top of it.
Her arm reaches beside him to grasp a small metal jar first, the symbols on it unreadable to him. She anticipates his protestation. “It’s not magic,” she assures. “I found a recipe for something they have in the other world. It numbs the skin much more effectively than the typical herbal remedies people use here.” The wind whooshes past his ear as she speaks, her voice close enough to his ear that it sends shivers up his spine until she pulls away.
Her cool fingers touch the wound tentatively, then press in, leaving a thin layer of the salve behind. He inhales sharply at first, as the pressure and tingling precursor of numbness significantly increase the pain. His head spins with dizziness, his eyes fogging over. “I don’t think it’s—”
“Give it a moment to work,” she breathes, the clang of the lid hitting the tin, the grind of it closing a distant sound to his dizzy head.
He blinks, his teeth digging into his lower lip. The pain recedes after a tense minute, and he can breathe again.
As his head clears, he becomes aware of a light pressure to his upper arm, past the wound, and realizes Regina has rested her hand there, her thumb running back and forth soothingly. The movement stops the second she notices that his breathing has evened out.
She gets to work without speaking, the pressure of the needle noticeable, but without the sting that he is used to feeling with it, without the sore, throbbing pain of skin being pulled back together. He can still feel the ghost of her hand caressing his skin.
Her breath is even, calm in his ear. She’s done this before.
“Where did you learn to do this?” he wonders after a moment.
It takes her at least half a minute to answer, but he waits.
”Someone taught me, when I was young. My mother wouldn’t have taken well to my returning from my riding lesson in need of the castle doctor.”
“Your mother doesn’t sound like a very kind woman.”
“Not terribly, no,” she agrees wryly, and he can hear decades of pain in those three words, cannot imagine treating Roland in such a way, cannot breathe with the thought of hurting the most precious person in his life so deeply.
He says it without really thinking. “Your stable boy taught you?”
Her hands falter at that.
“I’m sorry, that was, I—” he fumbles, beginning to turn in the chair to apologize directly, to make sure he hasn’t broken the promise he made to himself after their night breaking into this castle, that he would never make heavier the hurt and mistrust and loneliness that already so constantly weigh her down.
Her hands slide around his jaw from behind him, firm, but gentle, soft against his stubble. “Sit still, Robin. You’ll tear the stitches out.”
She places another three, four, five stitches in silence. At last, her voice fills the tense quiet of the room. It is not a whisper, but it is quiet, low. Intimate. “I don’t mind talking about him. Not always. I mind pity.”
Robin swallows, reminds himself to choose each of his next words with care. “So, you learned how to do this to protect him.”
She must sense something deeper in his silence, for after a moment, she insists, “What is it?”
“I knew the stories about heroes and villains were exaggerated. I’ve been the subject of a fair few myself. But I think they’ve been particularly unfair to you.”
"Have they?” She sounds decidedly unconvinced as she snips the remaining thread.
“We are some things by ourselves. We make choices.” He pauses, lifting his arm for her deft movements as she lays clean linen over the wound, and begins to wrap a bandage under his arm and then back over his shoulder. “But we are also what our lives have made us. I promise I understand that better than you think.”
If she would have answered, he will never know, because that is the moment his son chooses to burst into the room, crying “Papa!”
“Hello, my boy!"
Roland hurries over, his dimpled grin wide. “Hi, Majesty,” he adds.
”Your Majesty,” Robin tells him gently.
"So you’ll correct him, but you won’t use it yourself?"
Robin hears the hint of a smile in her voice, and smirks. "Precisely, Milady.”
Roland looks between them curiously, then shoots Regina a big grin before clambering onto his lap. Robin does his best to cover his wince.
“Friar Tuck said you got hurt, but not very bad,” Roland relates, his little arms tightening around Robin’s waist.
“Friar Tuck was right. And do you know what else?”
Robin leans down, as if to share a secret, glancing over to where Regina is piling away medical supplies so that Roland will look there, too. “Her Majesty is much better at giving stitches than he is.”
Roland giggles, a high-pitched, beautiful sound, then leans back against his papa’s chest. “Thank you, Majesty.”
Robin grins at her as she walks back over to them, opening his mouth to correct the title against lest, later in life, Roland offends some royal with less of a soft spot for children.
She shakes her head at him, though, halting the words, and ruffles Roland’s hair affectionately. “It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for my afternoon,” she presses a kiss to his forehead, and Robin watches her carefully ignore how close it brings her face to his, is slightly less successful at that himself, “but you are very welcome.”
I really need to talk about how Molly has repeatedly been used to represent the logical part of his brain, the part of him that is calm and in control no matter what the situation is and it makes me so ecstatic that this character who people still want to undermine and pass off as a silly girl with a pathetic crush on the main character is canonically one of the people Sherlock thinks of when he needs to focus. And it’s not only in HLV, where she and Mycroft help him concentrate on surviving, but when she steps out of a crowd of brides and makes sure he knows exactly why they’re doing what they’ve done. He seems surprised to see her because he doesn’t even realise that subconsciously Molly Hooper is the person in his head that represents calm, controlled, methodical work which is made even clearer when he can’t even replace her in a Victorian morgue no matter how unlikely it would be for her to be there realistically. No matter how you view it, whether you ship them or not, you absolutely cannot deny that Molly Hooper is one of the most important people in Sherlock’s life.
A/N-Warning: Smut (not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Had an original idea, but this didn’t exactly follow that so…hopefully it’s still good?)
// “B.I, you’ve run through the dance like 30 times now. It’s 2 A.M. Let’s go home.” I was sprawled out on the practice room floor as B.I went to start the music over again. He’s been working at this dance all night, I can see how tired he is, but apparently there’s one part he keeps messing up.
Once he finishes the dance he just sits on the floor in the middle of the room panting heavily with his head hung low. I walk over and just sit behind him and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.” I move so that I’m sitting in front of him, playing with his shirt. “For what?” He took off his hat running his hands through his hair. “For being here with me all night, and dealing with my pickiness. And just dealing with me in general.” I felt bad because I could tell there was more to what he said. Hanbin has been under so much stress lately, he is just physically and mentally drained, and it’s taking a toll on him whether he wants to admit it to me or not. “You’re welcome.” I leaned and kissed him. “Now let’s head home.”
B.I slowly made his way into his room and I followed behind. He started slowly peeling off his clothes. “I’m gonna shower.” He kissed my head and went into the bathroom. I undressed and just threw on one of his oversized shirts then climbed into his bed. I felt bad for B.I because this was how almost every night went. We stay at the studio till the early morning and come home and he can barely stay awake to shower. I heard the water shut off and made my way to the bathroom.
I knocked and Hanbin opened the door standing there brushing his teeth in his shorts. He went back to the sink while I walked in wrapping my arms around his waist. I felt his body suddenly relax at my touch. I kissed his back and then sat on the counter in front of him. He rested his hand on my thigh as he finished brushing his teeth.
He sighed and looked over at me with tired eyes. I hugged him and he just rested his head in the crook of my neck while I played with the hair at the back of his neck. He began kissing at my neck, “I love you…” traveling back to my lips, “so much.” I held his face and kissed him back. He hands now gripping tighter at my thighs signaling for us to move out of the bathroom. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.
He walked us back into his room and slowly put me onto his bed. He lowered himself on top of me but I quickly changed our places so I was on top. I wanted to take control and take care of him, he needed it, he deserved it. I kissed a trail from his lips down to his naval. My hands exploring his upper body, then finding their way to the waistband of his shorts. I looked up at him and then slowly exposed his growing erection.
I licked the tip while slowly stroking his member releasing a hiss from B.I’s lips. He pushed my hair out of my face so he could watch. I slowly began taking him deeper in my mouth until I knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. I crossed my arms at my waist removing his shirt as he pulled down my underwear. I straddled him and slowly lowered myself down.
He held my waist as I adjusted to his size. “Shit, y/n. You feel amazing.” Our paces quickening, he pulled me in for a heated sloppy kiss as we both were closer to our high. I took to his neck as I reached euphoria, Hanbin soon following. I rolled off of him and pulled his shirt back on as he pulled the covers over us. “Y/n, I know I’ve said it a lot tonight, but thank you. I love you.” “I love you too Hanbin.” He pulled me close and we both drifted off to sleep. //
So this is my first smut sorry if it sucks, it was pretty tame, it didn’t follow the original idea I had, but I think it’s still okay? lol. Feel free to request any smut ideas you have, this one I just randomly came up with to post one.
Can you do a Homeless au? One where Hiccup is like loaded from Stoick owning some big shot company, but they had a fight so hic moves out and is still going good. Then hic finds Jack being beaten by some snotty kids and takes him home to clean up. Hic convinces jack to stay after a while and they get together after sometime? It sounds so much better in my head, man!
I tried?? Idk it’s not exactly what you asked for, but I hope it’s close enough. If not I’m so sorry…
Warnings: Jack gets beat up, blood, and I think that’s about it? Idk slight age difference but they’re both legal.
I apologize for any mistakes made.
“Daddy’s boy,” Hiccup muttered to himself, “that’s what they think.” He grunt as he threw the heavy trash bag into the dumpster. If only the kids from his class could see him now. He clapped his hands together as if that would rid them of filth and turned to leave.
“There he goes!” Hiccup jumped at the shouts and was nearly mowed down by a man with blinding white hair. Some other guys followed after, shoving Hiccup against the brick wall in their hurry.
Hiccup rubbed at his shoulder and was nearly ready to leave them alone when the sound of flesh hitting flesh stopped him. The white haired man was on the ground, covering his face as the three guys kicked and punched him. Hiccup chewed the inside on his cheek and cursed himself, grabbing his phone. “Hey! Hey, I’m calling the cops!” He held up his phone, daring any of them to argue.
One guy, the ringleader Hiccup supposed, looked at him with a snarl. “Fuck, let’s just go. He’s worthless now.” He spit at the ground, an inch from the stranger’s head. “C’mon guys, fuck this place.”
All three of them glared and leered at Hiccup as they passed, shoving into the wall once more before disappearing. Hiccup waited a moment, allowing his heart to calm down before going to the stranger. “Hey, are you alright?”
He groaned, pushing himself up. “What do you think, Kid?” He wiped at his nose and sighed at the blood he found. “Well shit,” he muttered. He spat and more blood showed up. “You got any tissues?”
Hiccup shook his head, suddenly worried if he just put himself in danger. “I can bring you some though. My apartment is right there.” He ticked his head to the building next to them. He backed away, pulling out his keys. “Just stay here, I’ll get some.”
He unlocked the door and stepped inside the hallway. He had to go up three flights of stairs and down the hall until he reached his door. He was about to put his key in the lock when a low whistle startled him. He turned and the white haired man was looking around, using his tattered tank top to wipe at his nose. “You must be loaded to live in a place like this.”
“I’m not really,” he said tightly. “I told you to wait outside.”
so I’ve been watching the 3x17 kiss scene on a loop (who’s surprised? exactly no one) and what strikes me the most about it is Jemma’s reaction. not just the initial one, where she sees Fitz glance at her lips and then leans in so he can kiss her, but through the whole thing - it almost seems like she’s basking in the experience of letting Fitz love her, as if it’s this luxurious moment of which she can’t get enough.
when he pulls away after the first kiss she doesn’t even move (and I would guess that she doesn’t even open her eyes, but the angle means I can’t see if that’s true or not), she just leaves her head on the edge of the bed/his shoulder and tilts her face ever-so-slightly upwards, ready for him to keep kissing her if he wants to. (oh, does he ever.) her stillness during the entire interaction just seems so at peace in a way I’m not sure we’ve ever seen her. Jemma’s absolutely reveling in Fitz’s touch, his presence, his affection, and I think that’s my favorite thing about these kisses.