Miniprompt: NHS's mother was a silly and mostly weak woman, he got his cunning and hidden strength entirely from his father's side.
Nie Huaisang had met Jin Guangshan a whole bunch of times growing up, so he knew for a fact that Jin Guangyao must have gotten his smarts from his mom. It was pretty obvious.
It was a pretty obvious blind spot, too.
There was a time there during the first five years or so where Jin Guangyao had started getting pretty close to figuring out what Nie Huaisang was up to, and Nie Huaisang had (luckily) realized in time that he needed to double down on his disguise, so he’d pulled out his trump card.
“San-ge, san-ge,” he whined, tugging on Jin Guangyao’s clothing. “I need to think of something to do for my mother’s birthday.”
Jin Guangyao visibly stopped in place for a half-second before the usual smile appeared on his face. “Your mother, Huaisang? Forgive me, I hadn’t realized she was still around.”
“Oh, sure,” Nie Huaisang said. “She lives in a lovely little home by a lake…you know, I hadn’t realized you hadn’t met her! You should come meet her, then tell me what I should get her for her birthday, why don’t you?”
Nie Huaisang’s mother was a very nice woman, if Nie Huaisang did say so himself. Very nice, and very silly, and it was pretty clear from the first moment you met her that no matter how many nice silks she wore or how expensive her make-up now was, she had once been a lady of light virtue, as the polite term went. In fairness to her, she’d never actually been a whore, though that had only been a stroke of luck; the madam who’d bought her had sold her virginity to someone who’d then promptly lost to Nie Huaisang’s father in gambling and paid his debts with his right to her.
(Nie Huaisang’s father hadn’t especially wanted her, but apparently peer pressure, a great deal of alcohol, and the bad luck to get her pregnant on the first try meant that he’d had to keep her.)
Of course, she wasn’t supposed to talk about that now that she was a proper Madame Nie, but unsurprisingly Jin Guangyao had gotten the whole story out of her in a single afternoon, smiling the whole while, and after that he hadn’t suspected Nie Huaisang no matter how close his informants got.
See, Jin Guangyao got his brains from his mother, so he assumed just about everyone else did, too – their brains from their mother and their honor from their father.
Perhaps that was the case in the Jin sect. Only it was Nie Huaisang’s father who’d been the scheming bastard, not his mother, and it’d been Nie Mingjue who’d taken after his own mother instead, with his righteousness and honorable nature, so thoroughly uncharacteristic of the notoriously vindictive sonofabitches that made up the ancestral Qinghe Nie line. It was only Jin Guangyao, who wasn’t born and raised in the cultivation world, who’d only ever seen the world as it was under Nie Mingjue’s idiosyncratic leadership, had wrongly assumed it was the other way around – that honor and righteousness were Nie Huaisang’s inheritance as well as his brother’s…that, as a consequene, he’d be just as easy to fool.
So he assumed, and so he never suspected.
Too bad for him.
— gallery of us
55k written for @bottomlouisficfest
In spite of wanting to sound lucid and coherent for his own big jump, Harry wants to be near and touch, wants to listen to whatever the omega’s saying because he loves that voice, and he's always hated talking unless he has to. They're a good pair, the two of them, a perfect balance. Louis’ all sunshine, good vibes and healthy eating, lingering hugs and sticky cheek kisses, and Harry's the complete opposite without explanation, but fuck, it feels so good to be around someone like that. To have someone like that in his life at all.
Harry wants to protect his affectionate ball of light from the world's ignorance, wants to help add to the glow like starting a snowball, rolling it around until it can’t get off the ground because it’s so heavy from all the effort, patience and commitment.
Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.
a sneak peek of the last chapter of two idiots and a hamster, coming soon to an ao3 near you
if you love me, wake me
Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Rating: Teen and Up
Word Count: 3847
“Thank you for talking to him,” Eddie says then, rousing Buck from his reverie. His gaze is heavy and so sincere Buck almost wants to look away. “It- you don’t know how much it means to know he can go to you. That- that you’re there if I’m not.”
It feels like Eddie is saying something else, something Buck can’t fully grasp when the seeds of abandonment are still clinging to the edge of his mind, but he appreciates it all the same.
“Hey man, of course,” he says, too casual for the love he feels for Christopher and Eddie. “I’d do anything for him, you know that.”
Eddie hums in agreement, head ducked in a way that should hide his smile but Buck sees it anyway. “I know you would.”
It sits between them for a moment, the truth of the statement, and Buck finds himself bounding up off the couch when it becomes too much.
Buck and Eddie having conversations on couches.
read here on ao3
@evanbucxley @mellaithwen @seacoloredeyes @hmslusitania @hattalove @elvensorceress @wilddragonflying @paranoidbean @eastofoktober @bucksbuddie @megslovesbooks @fleurdebeton @elenaazra @azuresoulsblog @alex1424 @mmtions @midnightxscape @vilanaxxa @hearteyesdiaz @bat-a-tat-tat @wildlife4life @himbodiaz @mxrilynxnne @nouseance @athousandsplendidfreckles @fraddit @kathrynduske @simwizard43 @rutherfordbz @wherediputtheeggs @finduilasclln @constructiononsunset @leothil @karmilleryn @heretohelptheidiots @thesetwoorthosetwo @everexpandingheart @messyhairdiaz @the-skeptic-pancake @majesticlymortal @diazboysbuckley @swiftiesisters14 @stellarm @chobani-flip
let me know if you would like to be added/removed 🥰
Breathe me in, breathe me out
-written by @lunarheslwt
Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something.
He felt calm. Relaxed.
The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him.
“Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.”
Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him.
“I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits.
“You’re gonna kink shame me?”
Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers.
14.2k | a/b/o | alpha! Harry, omega! Louis | fluff, scenting, nesting, touch depri | moodboard by me, all pictures belong to their creators/owners
with you is where i wanna be (take me home)
buck/eddie || rated: T || words: 3.8k
“C’mon, Buck. Let’s go.” Eddie said, coming up behind him and clapping him on the back.
Buck cracked one eye open and turned to look at his best friend. “Huh?”
“You’re coming home with me,” Eddie replied, not even looking at Buck as he opened his own locker and started pulling out things to shove into his duffle bag. “You have spare clothes and everything else you need to spend the night already at the house. I’ll bring you back here tomorrow so you can get your car.”
Buck hummed in answer, too tired to come up with words for a proper reply.
Or, the one in which Buck is too exhausted to drive himself home so Eddie takes him back to his place. Includes Buckley-Diaz family fluff, pining, and sleepy cuddles.
read on ao3
scenes on a couch; or, the best orange juice in southern california 🍊
one-shot | no rating
So maybe it starts with Rue but it ends on a couch.
She hadn’t liked the smoke or the laughter or the metallic smell of pen on her face, had angrily smeared the marks off with dish soap and water at Fezco’s kitchen sink because they were out of hand soap but he had handed her a washcloth and said sorry through his chuckles which was more than Rue had done.
For the love of my life, Nines:
28. “each of my thoughts about you are improper”
59. “are you sure? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop”
I just know you’ll cook up something hot with these 😌💅
@dattebae Here you go, lovely! I love that two of my Nines prompts chose number 28. Clearly we're all on the same page where this boy is concerned!
Nines x AFAB reader. Rated M.
The RK900 was the most…androidish android you’d ever seen. If Connor hadn’t informed you of the fact, you would never have guessed that the grey eyed model was a deviant. It took until the fifth time you spoke to him for you to learn he had a name.
You worked on the reception desk at the DPD, so you knew all the officers well. Connor had endeared himself to you very quickly by always stopping to say hello. You thought he was cute, but your co-worker got there first. Since they made a pretty adorable couple, you didn’t begrudge that. It had mostly been a harmless observation on your part anyway. Nines, however, was a different story.
The RK900 had been discovered in the CyberLife Tower, was deviated by Markus, and had come to work at the DPD with Connor. He was an upgrade to the RK800, although the team valued both androids as individuals, of course. Nines was undeniably impressive with his skillset, but Connor had the edge on people skills, most of which came down to his experience. He’d been alive longer, been a deviant longer.
Nines did not bother to say hello every morning, and had actually not even acknowledged your presence until he walked in with Connor one day. After witnessing Connor stopping for a brief chat with you and your colleagues, he made more of an effort to be…pleasant. That was probably the kindest word you could use.
Small talk didn’t come easily to him. At least, not naturally. You’d seen him fake it for a witness once, no doubt letting his social relations program step in for him. The change was remarkable. He’d been warm and friendly, chatting about the latest Gears game, handsome face wearing an easy smile. You’d almost gawped at him from behind the desk before remembering that that wouldn’t be very professional.
At first you’d been indignant, wondering why he didn’t put that effort in for you, but then it had occurred to you that it was all false. The way Nines acted with you and your colleagues was real. It might not be as warm as you would like, but it was genuine, and there was something to be said for that.
There was something so intriguing and mysterious about the RK900, you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You knew it was unrequited. He made that perfectly clear with his stoic face and cold eyes, striking an odd balance between making the effort to talk to you while giving the impression that he probably didn’t care about the answers. You knew nothing about him, other than the basic facts, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
There were plenty of people who had crushes on Connor, but from what you could see, you were the only one who thought about Nines. People admitted that he was hot, but were put off by his personality. Or lack thereof. According to the gossip you overheard, a man who appeared to be that stoic was likely to be cold in the bedroom. When you observed Nines’ uncaring nature, his focus solely on his job, you couldn’t help but see where they were coming from. Still, you kept thinking about him, kept seeing his face when you closed your eyes at night.
For a time, you just let your mind wander where it wanted to. It was a fun distraction, and you enjoyed the eye candy. After almost two months with no let-up, you were starting to feel a little concerned. Was this more serious than you’d thought? In which case, what were you supposed to do moving forward? At the start, his lack of interest didn’t bother you, but now…if your own interest ran deeper than you realised, you were fucked.
The smart thing to do would be to confide in Connor, who seemed to be Nines’ only friend, but you couldn’t. You’d never been the kind of person who could openly discuss your crushes, not even celebrity ones. It just felt too personal. As Nines’ friend, Connor would be able to tell you if your feelings had even the slightest chance of being returned, but even the knowledge that he’d be able to put your mind at ease couldn’t make you break your silence. It was better to just assume you were on your own and deal with it.
And then someone brought a gun into the DPD.
It was a minor incident, all things considered, over in less than a minute thanks to Nines, but it shook you. There was a reason why you were a receptionist and not an officer. You didn’t handle dangerous situations well, you tended to freeze and forget every single part of your security training.
The man, a desperate Red Ice addict who didn’t want to be arrested, had attempted to start a hostage situation in reception, but Nines had gotten there first, taking a bullet to the shoulder like it was nothing before snatching the gun out of the man’s hands. He’d tossed the gun aside, had the man on the floor and handcuffed before you could blink, but all you could think was that he’d been shot.
He swept his grey eyes around reception, assessing the situation, the state of the people there, in a glance. His gaze seemed to settle on you a beat longer than everyone else, unless you were projecting, and you wondered why. Then Connor was there, insisting on patching up Nines’ gunshot wound before leading him away.
You worked out the rest of your shift with wide eyes, feeling your heartrate decrease slowly, worried when you didn’t see either android again. When you left the desk to go to the bathroom, you saw them both doing paperwork. Nines didn’t seem any worse for wear, other than the gaping hole in his clothing, tinged with blue.
Your gaze met his on your way back, and you debated going over to ask if he truly was okay, but then his LED spun and he began to talk, taking a phone call. You continued walking, a little disappointed, but glad to see that he seemed to be fine.
Your shift ended promptly at 6pm, and you headed to the break room to wash up your coffee mug before you had to get the bus home. Connor unexpectedly stepped into your path when you were done, and you smiled at him.
“Everything okay?” you asked.
“Fine, but I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”
You glanced at him in surprise, but nodded. “Sure. What is it?”
“I need to head out to follow a lead, could you take this folder to the archive for me?”
He held up a neatly-labelled manila folder, and you reached out a hand for it. You had a little while before your bus came.
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You nodded. “See you tomorrow, Connor.”
He headed for the door, and you diverted to the elevator down to the archive. It wasn’t the first time you’d run small errands for the officers. You knew how busy they were, so as long as they didn’t take advantage of your good nature, you didn’t mind helping out with small things. You were surprised to find Nines there too.
“Good evening,” he replied. “What are you doing down here? Your shift is over.”
“Connor asked me to put this away,” you explained, holding up the folder.
He tilted his head a fraction. “Interesting.”
“It is?” you said, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Yes. Because he asked me to put this away.” He showed you a folder of his own.
Heat flooded your face as you realised the two of you had been set up, and you wondered what Connor could possibly hope to achieve.
“Oh,” you said.
It was the first time you’d ever seen Nines look awkward. It was…interesting.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment, then you gestured with your folder.
You walked past him, shoulders hunched in the universal sign for ‘sorry I’m in your way even though I’m not really’, and found the correct file cabinet. By the sounds of it, Nines was doing the same.
Job done, you headed back to the elevator. You pressed the button for the main floor, surprised when Nines entered with you. You’d just assumed he’d take the stairs, since you were only using the elevator because it had been a long, tiring day.
His tall, looming presence made the boxy space feel even smaller, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should attempt small talk.
The elevator came to a juddering halt, and you yelped as you were plunged into darkness before the emergency lights came on, bathing you both in eerie red.
“Stay calm,” Nines instructed, although you weren’t panicked, just surprised. “I’m calling for help.”
You watched as he communicated silently with someone, his LED blinking. He looked even more intimidating in shades of scarlet, the lights casting deep shadows on the planes of his face. Not that you felt intimidated exactly; it was just something you observed.
You waited as patiently as you could, eyeing the now-blank display above the doors. When Nines finally moved, you glanced at him, taking in the disgruntled expression on his face.
“What’s going on?”
“The power’s out,” he informed you. “I could only get through to Connor, he’s on his way back. He said he’ll update me as to what’s happening, but for now we just have to wait.”
You sighed, suddenly feeling a conflicting mixture of tired and tense. You should have just taken the damn stairs! Now it could be hours before you were able to get home. At least you weren’t claustrophobic, although the sensation of being trapped was making you a little uneasy. Being trapped specifically with Nines – your secret crush – was only adding to your unease. You felt too awkward to handle it well, you were bound to say something stupid, highlight exactly why androids were superior to humans.
The elevator felt stuffy, although whether that was just in your head or an effect of the air con now being off, you weren’t sure. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall, and Nines looked down at you for a moment before mirroring your pose on the opposite side. He didn’t need to sit, so he was clearly just doing it to make you feel more comfortable. That was a nice gesture.
The first half hour dragged. You sat in silence, unsure what to say, and Nines didn’t venture anything either. He had to be impatient, possibly more so than you, but you couldn’t tell looking at him. His expression was placid, grey eyes strangely pale in the red light. He sat with his feet flat on the floor, knees bent, arms resting on them in a pose that was oddly casual for him. You assumed he was mimicking humans he’d seen.
You tried hard not to stare at him, but since he was the only interesting thing in the elevator, you didn’t succeed much. Your gaze kept creeping to him, only for you to guiltily snatch it back. A few times, you switched position, partly because the floor wasn’t the best seat in the world, partly to busy yourself for a few seconds. When the room got warm without the air con, you started to unbutton your shirt, thankful you had a tank top underneath.
Nines watched you, and you tried not to fidget under the heavy weight of his stare.
“It’s hot,” you mumbled by way of explanation.
He didn’t respond, most likely not considering it necessary.
A few awkward moments slipped by, and you dropped the shirt next to you, glad to feel some air on your bare arms.
“Why do I make you uncomfortable?” Nines spoke up out of the blue.
You frowned at him in surprise. “You don’t.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I…” You trailed off, your protest dying on your tongue. You’d been about to say that you weren’t lying, which would have been another lie, but that was so much easier to say than the truth.
“Well, it’s because I have a gigantic crush on you, but until recently, you barely knew who I was, much less cared, and I wish I could just stop, but every time I see you I just want to climb you like a tree, and so being stuck in a small room with you is putting me on edge.”
Yeah, no. Best leave that unsaid.
“You realise I was built to be intimidating,” he added. “It’s not something I can help.”
“No, I know,” you answered, picking at a thread on your pants. “And you’re not. At least, I don’t find you intimidating. It’s…um…I just…I’m just really tired. I was looking forward to getting home.”
“What did I say about lying?” he snapped, tone accusing.
“I’m not lying, I really don’t see you that way!” you protested.
“Your reactions indicate otherwise,” he argued. “When I’m near you, you become restless, agitated. Your pupils dilate, your breathing rate increases. All signs of fear.”
And arousal, you added silently, trying not to panic as your reactions were picked apart. Did he really not realise what was happening? He was the most advanced android ever created, which meant that he must know what else those signs could mean. Could it be that he just didn’t consider it a possibility?
Your heart twisted at the implications of that. He clearly took on the weight of his daunting presence and the ways it could affect his day-to-day life, but did that mean he thought that everyone was afraid of him? Did it mean that he didn’t believe that someone could be attracted to him?
A sudden stray thought struck you, making your eyes widen. Was he, perhaps…lonely?
That was a lot to unpack, and your need to keep your feelings to yourself was suddenly warring with your need to reassure him.
“Nines, I…” you began, unsure where you were going with it. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He looked unconvinced, and you rushed to continue.
“Actually, I…I like you.”
His eyes were steady on you, boring through you, trying to get to the heart and truth of you. You swallowed and looked away, scrambling awkwardly to your feet as you gave in to your sudden need to move. As soon as he did the same, you regretted the decision, since he was taller than you. Sitting had equalled things between you to an extent. Now that he was looming over you once again, you struggled to find your words.
“I…I know you don’t feel the same,” you said, holding up a hand as you assured him that you had no expectations. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I just…I just want you know that not all of us find you scary, okay? And if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. I want to be your friend. I…don’t even know if that’s something you need or even want, but the offer stands. Just…just remember that.”
He stared at you for long seconds, face blank. That wasn’t unusual for him, but you wished he’d show at least something of what he was thinking.
“I can’t be your friend,” he said eventually.
Your heart sank, and you bit your lip as anxiety washed through you.
“Okay,” you said, doing your best to react the right way and not let the disappointment seep in. You should have known better than to expect an android of his advanced skills to need a human like you.
“Don’t you want to know why?” he asked.
You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s any point in–”
“It’s because each of my thoughts about you are improper,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence.
You froze, wide-eyed, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. Your Nines translation meter must be slightly off, because it just wasn’t making sense.
“I can’t be your friend,” he went on. “It wouldn’t be right. I’d always want more, and I will not put you in a position where I demand more than you want to give.”
You were hearing his words, spoken in English, a language you definitely did understand, but their meaning just didn’t register. They were so at odds with his stoic expression.
“Wh…what?” you stuttered.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You winced at the harsh words, but then realised that they were a touch defensive. Nines was feeling vulnerable. Because of you. How was that even possible?
“You…like me?” you ventured cautiously. “As…more than a friend?”
“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”
“But you…why didn’t you…? Why didn’t you say something?” You gasped, remembering that you knew exactly why. “Shit, you really did think I was afraid of you, didn’t you?”
“Aren’t you?” he threw out.
“No! No, you… Fuck! For a man with a fucking supercomputer for a brain, you’re so dense!” you said between near-hysterical giggles.
He tilted his head, looking a little affronted, and you laughed harder.
“I’m sorry,” you wheezed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… Do you have any idea how long I’ve pined for you? Nines… I wasn’t afraid of you. I was attracted to you.”
His eyes widened a touch, and his LED whirred. “That…” he said after a moment’s thought, the words carefully considered, “…would make sense.”
You stifled another laugh. You didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, it was just the whole bizarre situation in general.
“So now what?” you asked.
Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, crowding you against the wall with very little effort.
In a deceptively soft tone that sent shivers through your body, he said, “I believe a kiss would be appropriate. If you consent to that."
You swallowed hard, nodding, your gaze inevitably pulled to his mouth. He bent his head, you lifted your chin to meet him, and your lips met.
You’d imagined it dozens of times, but you had no idea what to actually expect. In light of your most recent conversation, you wondered if you were his first kiss, but if you were, you couldn’t tell. He knew what he was doing, his lips cool and pliant against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth with exploratory precision. A soft groan rumbled low in his throat, and you shivered. You’d suddenly thought of a much better way of passing the time.
You pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard, your eyes locked with his.
“Can I…?” you began.
“Anything,” he said.
You pushed him back half a step, then sank to your knees. You were starting to recognise micro-expressions in his stoic look, and you caught the brief flicker of surprise, and then the desire that followed it. Had you just been blind, or was he just giving you a chance to read him finally? Either way, it was gratifying to see.
You undid his belt and the fastenings on his dark jeans, taken aback to find yourself staring at pale skin rather than the underwear you’d expected.
“Shit. Have you been commando all this time?” you blurted out.
“What do I need underwear for?” he said validly.
“That’s hot,” you murmured, easing him out of his jeans.
Nines sighed as you touched him, stiffening and growing in your hand exactly as a human would. You gave him a few slow pumps, gauging the size and weight of him, feeling the softness of his skin, the surprising warmth beneath it. He had no scent that you could detect, and you playfully licked at the tip, grinning when he jerked and moaned above you. You took that sensitive part of him in your mouth, sucking gently, massaging the rest with your hands.
He moaned again, hips twitching in a very human-like way, plainly indicating what he wanted. You sucked a little harder, then ran the flat of your tongue across the underside before pulling back. You didn’t miss the way he leaned forward, chasing your mouth, and you felt your clit throb.
“Fuck my mouth,” you said, sitting back on your heels to look up at him.
He’d braced one arm against the wall, his rebellious lock of hair falling forward as he cast a shadow over you. His lips were parted as he drew air into his systems, and his eyes were heavy-lidded. And you’d barely started.
“Are you sure?” he asked you. “Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop.”
“Then don’t,” you said simply.
His eyes took on a look of determination, and you felt a thrill of adrenaline. His free hand slid into your hair and held your head still, and you felt yourself grow wetter.
“Open for me,” he ordered, and you almost whimpered at how many different ways you could take that.
You obligingly opened your mouth, and he slid back in, plunging deeper than you’d allowed before. You relaxed your jaw, taking as much of him as you could, already knowing that he’d have to make do with the limitations. It was fortunate that you were pretty good at controlling your gag reflex, since you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat.
He started to thrust, and you immediately picked up on both his desperation and his control over it. It told you that he wasn’t going to hurt you, even accidentally, and you relaxed even further. You let him do what he wanted for the first few minutes, then let your hands and tongue come into play, teasing and caressing where you could until he was panting hard above you.
“Fuck!” he grunted, and you inwardly grinned. You’d never seen him so animated, so unguarded, and you had a feeling you could easily become addicted to it.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, needing to hear him come apart. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling, but it was a dull pain. You liked knowing what you did to him.
“I’m…I’m going to…” he said, sounding thoroughly wrecked. You’d never heard him sound anything but calm and collected. The fact that he was tripping over his words now excited you. “Can I…?”
You freed a hand to curl your fingers into the ‘okay’ symbol, letting him know it was alright. It was more than alright.
With a harsh cry and a jolt, he came. Your throat was coated with synthetic cum, and you swallowed it, surprised by its heady, bittersweet flavour. Something familiar that you couldn’t immediately identify in your distracted horny state. Then it hit you: dark chocolate. He fucking tasted like dark chocolate.
You had so many questions for CyberLife.
You let him slip from your mouth, wiping the drool from your chin before he could see how undignified you were. Then, since he seemed to be dazed, you helpfully tucked him away and zipped his jeans, buckling his belt in place. It was only as you struggled to stand up on stiff legs that he snapped out of it, gripping your upper arms and helping you up. He pressed you against the wall, mouth on yours in a fierce kiss. You wondered if he could taste himself.
You intended to ask him how it had been for him, but you didn’t get the chance. No sooner had you broken apart, when he sent you a predatory look that rendered you speechless, and said firmly, “My turn.”
He got to his knees, hands working on your bottom layers before you had a moment to catch your breath. He looked up at you when he saw how damp your underwear was, and you shrugged, a little embarrassed.
“I told you,” you muttered defensively.
He actually laughed, just a brief chuckle, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it.
Your smile turned to a gasp as he explored your wet folds with his fingers, parting them before bringing his tongue into the mix. You had no idea if this was new to him too, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them expertly and brushing against your G-spot, making you moan his name.
Your hands found his hair, fingers drifting through the silky strands. Making him come had turned you on so much, you didn’t think you were going to last long. Not if he kept being as dextrous with his tongue as he was with his fingers.
Oh god, his tongue. You were going to have recurring dreams about his tongue, you could already tell.
“I need you,” you whimpered. “I need you, I need you.”
It had mostly been an outpouring of feeling for you, but Nines seemed affected by it too, his LED spinning yellow. His fingers pumped faster and harder, and he closed his mouth around you, sucking on your clit, playing with it with his tongue.
He kept you at such a constant level of pleasure, your orgasm took you by surprise. You cried out as you came, bucking against his face as he worked you through it. He drew it out exquisitely, leaving you convulsing against the wall for what felt like an eternity, his tongue lazily sweeping over and over your sensitive flesh until you had to beg him to stop.
When he stood, cupping the lower half of his face to wipe the excess slick away, you watched him with dazed eyes, and as you’d done for him, he helped you redress. You had so many things you wanted to talk to him about, about how he thought of himself, about why he hadn’t believed that you cared, but you weren’t sure how to begin.
“Connor saw it,” Nines said, seeming to sense the topic you were stuck on. “What was between us.”
You nodded. “That’s why he sent us to the archive. He must have hoped we’d talk if we…” You trailed off, eyes widening. “Oh shit! Did he trap us in here?”
Nines frowned, his LED immediately flickering yellow.
“It was him,” he confirmed after a short, silent conversation. “I told him to get us moving again.”
“That sneaky little bastard!” you exclaimed, although you were too blissed out to be angry. Besides, his stupid plan had worked.
“He saw that you cared for me,” Nines surmised. “And he saw that I was fascinated by you. When that gunman was in reception today, I…I was struck with the possibility of you being hurt, and it was…difficult to deal with. I think Connor must have seen my struggles.”
“I didn’t like seeing you hurt either. You were shot.”
“I was repaired,” he assured you. “I had to act quickly, to protect you.”
You stared at him, unsure how to respond to such a declaration. You squinted as the lights came back on, the elevator jolting into movement once again, and you shelved it all for later.
“Want to come home with me?” you asked. You needed to feel him inside you, but not in a crappy DPD elevator.
Nines managed a small smile and nodded. “On one condition. When Connor meets us outside the elevator doors, where he’ll inevitably be, we pretend that nothing happened.”
Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Deal.”
One day soon, you’d let Connor know his efforts hadn’t been in vain, but in the meantime, you’d punish him for trapping you.
It felt good, having Nines as a co-conspirator, and it took a lot of effort for you to walk out of the elevator like nothing had changed. It was harder still not to laugh at Connor’s annoyed expression. Much later, after Nines had almost fucked you into a coma, you reflected that maybe you forgave Connor just a little bit.
Rue puts a body switching spell on Fezco and Lexi.
I'll try a prompt if you're still having fun with them! Letssee: Wen Ruohan gets reincarnated really early on account of his great cultivation. He could be any of the Juniors.
“Uh, Senior Wen?”
Wen Ning blinked, then turned his stiff face towards one of the juniors that was always hanging out with Lan Sizhui…Ouyang Zizhen, he thought he was called. A charming boy, of a highly romantic temperament, as likely to be one of the ones dragging the others into trouble as he was to be the one dragged along himself. Not the most critical thinker, to put it politely, and rather vain, sometimes inclined to get overly excited and overestimate himself, but very passionate in defense of his friends…
Not that any of that explained why he was trying to talk to Wen Ning, though.
“Can I help you?” he asked, and Ouyang Zizhen…squirmed.
“Uh,” he said. “I just wanted…er…to convey…apologies for – I mean, your life has been quite hard – difficult – I know it doesn’t do much to say it, but –”
“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Wen Ning said blankly.
Ouyang Zizhen put his head into his hands.
“I’m saying that your uncle was a dick and that he should’ve done better by you,” he mumbled. “Even after he went completely off the deep end, you were still his family, his nephew’s son, and you deserved better. That’s all.”
“…yeah, just, forget I said any of that. Never mind. Bye!”
Wen Ning stared after the fleeing teenager. “…how did you know I was his nephew’s son?” he asked blankly, when it was already far too late. No one knew that, not any longer; it’d been covered up long before, an embarrassing family secret, and no one who still lived today remembered it had even been a question. It was impossible for him to know.
No, it was impossible. No reincarnation would happen that soon, and even if he was, the likelihood of his uncle reincarnating into a perfectly nice young man with romantic aspirations, with a little too much self-absorption and a little too little brain, had to be very slim, and remembering his past life even more so. Right?
Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Avengers Team & Loki, Avengers as family - Relationship, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Summary: After the Battle of New York, S.H.I.E.L.D. claims Loki for punishment and consequently, also HYDRA. When the Avengers are assembled under the belief that Loki is escaping his cell, they rapidly realize what a mistake they've made leaving the younger Asgardian in their hands. (Gen, blind!Loki)
[REWRITE/REVAMP OF STYGIAN]
Spoilers without context:
Avengers as family, Loki whump, Odinfam drama.
KPweek 2022 Day 1: “Can I try?” + love (VegasPete)
This fic can also be found on AO3 ;)
“Pete?” Vegas chuckles, tilting his head. “Can I try?”
“No!” Pete growls. “I’ve got this!”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent?”
“As you wish. But I’ve been watching you struggling for… seven minutes and forty-three seconds now.”
“I’ve got this!” Pete repeats, glaring at his lover. “I’m a strong, self-sufficient man! I’ve been doing it myself for years! I know I’ve got you to do it now, but you don’t have to help me all the time, do you?”
“Of course not, love,” Vegas grins. “But if you change your mind…”
“I won’t! I can fasten my own goddamn bracelet!” Pete snarls and lifts his right hand to bite down on one end of the offending piece of jewelry.
“Yes, I’m sure this is definitely gonna help,” Vegas nods, watching the complex yoga routine that follows and inevitably ends with Pete screaming and throwing the bracelet against the bedroom wall.
“It’s broken!” the former bodyguard and current mafia wife exclaims. “That’s it! Broken, that’s why it doesn’t work!”
“It’s not broken, sweetie, it’s fine,” Vegas smiles. “Are you sure you don’t want me to try?”
“No. I’m not wearing a bracelet.”
“Shame. I love how this one looks on you.”
Pete scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes pierce right through Vegas’ completely innocent face.
“I know what you’re trying to do, darling, and it’s not gonna work!”
“I’m not even trying to do anything, though.”
“Just let me do it for you, Pete,” Vegas sighs. “Pretty please?”
Vegas gazes at Pete from beneath his eyelashes and Pete’s paper-thin defenses just… crumble.
“All right. Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes, and goes to fetch the bracelet. “But only because I want to wear it, not because you want me to!”
“And not because you said you liked it!”
“I’d never have thought that was the reason, I assure you.”
“And definitely not because of those puppy eyes! Never do those again, by the way. You’re a dangerous criminal, Vegas, have some dignity!”
Vegas laughs takes the bracelet from Pete’s hand and fastens it around his wrist within two seconds. Pete purses his lips and glares first at the bracelet, then at his lover.
“There,” Vegas says, smiling brightly. “Perfect.”
“I hate you,” Pete mutters.
“Love you too, sweetie.” Vegas places a quick kiss on Pete’s cheek, making his lover blush slightly. “You look gorgeous, by the way. I guess I will be once again apologizing to Tankhun.”
��Why, for stealing me away from him?”
“No, love. For fucking you in the restroom and therefore ruining his evening.”
“Can’t help it,” Vegas shrugs.
“All right, all right,” Pete huffs, rolling his eyes. “Come on. We gotta go. Or we’ll be late, and then you’re gonna have to apologize to Tankhun twice.”
“Right. I’ll get the bike. You can go check on Venice and make some final threats to Macau. I mean, give him some last-minute instructions he’s heard a hundred times already.”
“Asshole. And I wanted to say you’re sweet and thoughtful!”
“I am sweet and thoughtful,” Vegas winks. “I could just throw you over my shoulder and carry you outside.”
“Ha! I’d like to see you try!”
The grin on Vegas’ face is the only warning Pete gets before he’s unceremoniously lifted in the air and hoisted over Vegas’ shoulder.
“You were saying, sweetie?”
“Vegas!” Pete hisses. “Put me down!”
“I don’t think I will, sweetie,” Vegas chuckles, walking out of their bedroom door. “And remember, don’t scream. You’ll wake up our son.”
“Vegas, if you don’t put me down this instant, I can guarantee you won’t have to apologize to Tankhun tonight!”
“Promises, promises,” Vegas says and slaps Pete’s ass with the hand that’s not holding him.
“Vegas, come on!” Pete whines, but Vegas can tell he’s trying very hard not to start laughing. “You’re impossible.”
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
“I don’t care,” Vegas smiles as he walks into the living room. “Macau, we’re off. Try to keep yourself and the kid alive. If only one of you survives, make sure it’s Venice, okay? If something goes wrong, call me and I’ll be here within twenty minutes. Fifteen in an emergency. Love you. Bye!”
“Have fun, hia,” Macau replies, not even looking up from his phone. “Love you!”
“Wait!” Pete protests. “I forgot to prepare Venice’s bottle–”
“I’ve got it, P’Pete, don’t worry!” Macau assures him. “Enjoy your night out. Everything’s under control!”
“See? Everything’s under control,” Vegas says, slapping Pete again. “Let’s go, sweetie. We don’t wanna make Tankhun wait.”
Are you ready to read about deep emotional turmoil? Because I've written yet another:
Grand Inquisitor x Reader
Graphic depictions of sexual situations, major character death, murder, anxiety/panic attacks, angst/hurt, whump, alcohol, gambling
You never forgot the names and faces of the Jedi family that you lost. Each day you live on, making it your mission in life to avenge your fallen brethren. Tonight you have a spectacular plot in the works, with your prized stallion at the very center of it. Everything is going according to plan, until an unexpected arrival turns into a deeply intimate encounter. How far are you willing to go for one more moment with someone that you've loved and lost? Even if you know the atrocities they've committed against your own kind...
recently I’ve been obsessed with the idea of writing a Worm au fic that’s set on our earth (no powers, no endbringers ect). It would be from Taylors POV mostly, and sort of slice of life-ish, the story following her as she tries to struggle through high school and eventually finds passion and friendship outside of Winslow.
The problem with writing something like this is a) I already have 10 billion fics I want to write/ need to update, and b) I’m unsure if anyone would even read something like this? One of the main draws of Worm is it’s power system and world building- without that, I have no idea if people would even read the thing!
“You know, you should keep it.”
Eddie tilted his head towards Steve, “Huh? Keep what? You? Because I was already planning on doing that if that wasn’t clear.”
Steve smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to Eddie’s jaw, “Well, me too. But no, I meant the jacket.”
“Why should I? From it's fancy little bag, I assumed you wanted to like, preserve it or something.”
Steve shrugged, or as much as he could lying down, looking over at the closet, “Nah, that was my mom's idea. She said I needed to have it ‘in safekeeping’ or whatever. But I never wear it and it just reminds me of shittier times. At least this way, it means something.”
this is based on a drabble i did a few weeks about eddie customizing steve's varsity jacket with some added getting together, fluff, and feel good steddie moments.
the jacket fic is out! im super happy with how it turned out and I hope you all will be too! if you want the link to the of post that inspired this fic, it can be found here and the art i did for it here
"Did we stop moving?" Kai's voice shakes as their eyes widen, and a hand braces the metal bar on the wall of the ferris wheel car.
"They're probably just letting people off at the bottom," Amelia hums, gently nudging Kai's foot with hers. "You okay?"
"I, uh," they chuckle nervously, "may or may not be afraid of heights." Her gaze snaps away from the view to look them in the eyes.
"Are you joking?"
"I wish I was." They fold their hands in their lap. "And please don't make a joke about how tall I am because I've heard it a million times." Amelia pouts her lip and stands to sit next to them, immediately stopping when Kai shakes their hands rapidly. "You'll shake the car."
"You didn't say anything." She slowly sits back down.
"You were really excited about this Ferris wheel, and it's normally fine, but we've been stopped for a concerning amount of time, so I'm getting a little freaked out." They drop their head into their hands. "I'll be okay," they mutter, "I just really wish we would be on the ground again."
"I'm sorry," she pouts. "Is there anything else you're scared of that I should know?"
"Uh," they slowly lift their head, brushing a hand through their hair, "I used to be a little agoraphobic, mainly from the aspect of social anxiety, but with medication and a bit of exposure therapy, it's not much of an issue anymore. And, public speaking," they laugh nervously, "which you know."
"So, what I'm hearing is that you let me drag you to a fair, which is an incredibly public space, and then you let me bring you on a ferris wheel? Both things you get anxious about?"
"I've had a lot of exposure therapy in the past, which has helped, so I try not to say no to things even if they make me anxious." Amelia cocks her head to the side.
"Okay, but please know that you can always say no, even if I'm excited about something. I'd much rather get ice cream and sit on a bench with you than force you into exposure therapy."
"Ice cream and sitting for a while does sound good for whenever we get off this," they murmur, making eye contact with her. "What about you? What are you scared of?"
"Spiders. Really just bugs in general, which isn't working out well because Scout's currently obsessed with insects. He brought a caterpillar into the house last week, and I'm pretty sure he and Bailey were going to make a home for it and keep it." They chuckle and run a hand through their hair.
"Oh-" Kai sits up as the car begins to move, their eyes wide, and Amelia holds back a laugh at their expression. "They should really do some sort of announcement before we start moving again." Their hand tightens around the rail, their knuckles turning white as they exhale slowly.
"I think it's only fair that I let you pick what's next," Amelia smiles softly.
"That ice cream you mentioned earlier has been getting me through this, so I'm sticking with that." She watches as the tension leaves their face as they near the ground, sighing in relief as they stop at the station. "Thank god," they mutter, standing up and rushing out as soon as the gate is opened.
"Thank you," Amelia waves to the attendant before quickening her pace to catch up with Kai and lacing her fingers through theirs. "Better now?"
"Much better," they shake their head and laugh. "Sorry about that."
"Don't apologize. I'm sure you'll just make it up to me by killing a spider at some point." They squeeze her hand and lead her through the exit of the ride.
"Alright. But for now," Kai bends down to quickly kiss her, "ice cream."
Like Fall, Like Spring (Drake x MC)
A/N: maxwell has entred the chat. again.
It was over before Riley even realized it started. The meetings, one with Hana, another with a lawyer and then another one with a few more peope went smoothly and very fast. After mere two hours, everything was settled and Riley breathed a sigh of relief.
She knew Drake wasn’t home yet; he messaged her saying that Liam needed him for a few more hours. She sent a cryptic message back: she was busy as well and he didn’t have to worry about going back home late. Drake replied with a question: “Busy?” but Riley didn’t want to tell him yet. “Busy:)” was all she said back.
She smiled at her phone and texted Maxwell. He kept asking her when they could meet up to catch up (and Maxwell needed to know everything about how her and Drake made up) and Riley decided it was time. Seven minutes after her message, Maxwell was already waiting for her in the bakery and eating his first, out of five, cronut.
“I’m so happy you messaged me, Little Blossom! We haven’t talked in ages.”
“In fours days,” Riley corrected.
“That’s ages in my world. Come, sit. I ordered you a vanilla late.”
She obliged and took a sip of her drink. Maxwell knew how much she loved all those sugary syrups in her coffee and he always made sure to get her a coffee with one. That was one of their things; Drake claimed adding anything to coffee is a crime so she drank plain latte or a cappuccino whenever she was with him. Giving up milk was still too much to her.
“Sooooo! You and Drake, huh. The therapy. Camping. Huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Riley laughed.
“Yes, the therapy helped and we made up. Happy?”
“Very!” He raised his oatmilk hazelnut caramel decaf macchiato with extra cinnamon and whipped cream in a toast. When it came to coffee drinks, Maxwell was even more extra than her. “Tell me everything!”
Riley took another sip of her coffee and began to tell the story, from the therapy, the camping trip to Leona’s phone call and their making up. She did leave out the actual making up in bed but she did tell him they kissed and that it felt like they were okay. Maxwell obviously read between the lines because his face was very smug.
“And what did you tell Leona? I hope you told her to kiss your ass. Or to back off! Or--”
“I just hung up.” She shrugged.
“What? Nooo! Riley, no! You can’t! You need to do something! Look, someone suggested you take a photo of you and Drake kissing and send it to her. Other people thought it’d be better if you sue her for emotional damage. And then this one person--”
“Maxwell, who’s suggesting these things and why do they know about our problem with Leona?”
“Umm... Would you like another coffee?”
“Okay, so I made a poll online.”
“A poll? What?”
“Yeah, my fans were supposed to pitch their ideas to me, how they would deal with aunt Leona.”
“Maxwell! You didn’t! The whole Cordonia knows about my beef with Leona?” She hid her face in her hands.
“Noo! Of course not! It’s um... an anonymous website. No one knows it’s about you.”
“What do you mean anonymous?” Riley looked up at him.
“So... I’m writing fanfiction about you and Drake. Although it’s not really a fanfiction but rather a friendfiction, since I’m your friend, not a fan. Don’t worry I changed the names!” He said quickly seeing the horror on Riley’s face. “So Bailey is a poor woman from the U.S. and one day she met Blake, a handsome, grumpy whiskey addict and they fell in love with each other. But there were many obstacles, obviously. There was an awful old King who tried really hard to send Bailey back to America but luckily with a help of their amazing friend, lord Maximiliano, the handsome and courageous man who fought the old king himself, they were able to get together and get married. But then another obstacle came, namely Blake’s awful old witchy aunt Leana who loved the old King and wanted revenge. So she bullied Bailey into leaving and she left and then Blake was searching for her for months, with his best friend Maximiliano, who eventually found Bailey and reunited two lovers. And now my readers are waiting for the epilogue and suggesting different ideas what to do with Leana.”
Riley’s eyes widened and she was too stunned to speak for a few minutes. Maxwell took her shock for amazement and calmly sipped his extra fancy drink.
“I... I don’t know to say,” she finally croaked. “You’re writing fanfiction about us?”
“Friendfiction, and yes. I have over three thousand followers on Tumblr. Each chapters gets over four hundred notes! Can you imagine?”
“Does Drake know about this?” She asked.
“Do you think I would be so good-looking and alive if he knew?” Maxwell answered with a question and Riley nodded.
“That makes sense,” she murmured.
“So... About Leona, how about I--”
“No, Maxwell. I-- We will handle it ourselves.”
Maxwell shrugged. “Okay. But if you need ideas, you know where to find me.”
After the weirdest afternoon with Maxwell, Riley was too tired to have any conversations with Drake. He asked her how she spent her day and she vaguely told him she met up with Hana and Maxwell to catch up. She left out the purpose of meeting with Hana and the fact that Maxwell wrote fan-- pardon, friendfiction. Drake told her about a few new ideas that Liam had for developing Cordonia and that Liam asked him to be the official photographer for all upcoming events.
They ate dinner together, watched a movie and went to sleep (together) as if that was their routine for years and they never had any breaks.
The morning came too soon in a form of a phone call. Riley, rubbing her eyes in hopes to wake up faster, reached out for her phone to see who was calling her.
“If it’s Maxwell tell him I’ll kill him,” Drake murmured, still refusing to open his eyes and take his arms away from Riley’s waist. When she didn’t reply and they phone was ringing, he finally opened one eye and then another as concern began to paint his face.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“It’s Leona,” she whispered, all pale and quiet. Drake sat straight abruptly. He was awake now.
“Put her on loudspeaker,” he demanded.
“Maybe we can just ignore her forever and--”
“Put. Her. On. Loudspeaker.” He repeated and Riley nodded.
“Hello?” She said.
“Riley! This is honestly rude to hang up and stop answering my calls.” Leona’s voice filled the bedroom. “Of course you’d end the call like a coward you are! You don’t want to hear about the things you’re ruining cuz’ it’s nice living in that happy bubble you built!”
Riley felt Drake stiffen next to her and her hands started getting sweaty.
“Leona, listen...” she began but the woman didn’t let her finish.
“No, you listen. I told you everything a few months ago. You made a good decision to leave and my poor baby was finally getting better. And I thought, wow, maybe I was wrong about Riley, maybe she really cares about Drake since she let him go. Maybe she really wanted the best for him. But then you come back. You don’t want to give him a divorce. You force him to live with you. Once again, you’re not letting him live the life he wants! You’re taking away his happiness! You’re so selfish, you can’t even look past your needs! It’s all about you! You don’t care about Drake, never did. He has a real chance to build something good with Mary-Anne, have a child with her, his child, may I add, live in Texas, just as he always wanted. Live the life he wants. Not you. How many times do I have to beg you to let my baby be happy?”
Riley paled even more and she wanted to throw up. What if Drake agreed with Leona?
“Leona, I--” She started but this time it was Drake who didn’t let her finish. He took the phone from her hands spoke to his aunt himself.
“Bullshit, Leona. You know nothing except for how to bully my wife.”
“Drakey? Of course!” Leona snorted. “Riley had to snitch, didn’t she? She--”
“I honestly don’t care what you’ll say about her. I have enough of your crap, aunt Leona. Nothing you described is my dream life. Because there’s no Riley in it. Maybe it’s time to accept it and stop calling her like a maniac because this will not change how I feel about her!”
Leona was silent for a few moments and Riley almost thought she gave up.
“So it happened, huh?” Leona’s voice sounds as if she was crying. “She finally turned you against me, huh? Against me, the person who helped changing you diapers. The person who was always there for you. Who was a mother and a father when your parents couldn’t. A person who has only your best interests at heart. She really is worth it, huh.”
“Leona...” Drake started and sighed. He looked equally mad and heartbroken. “You’re the only person who’s trying to meddle. This is my life, not yours. Please, accept that I make my own choices and I want Riley to be in my life. She’s my wife and I love her. I am happy when I’m with her. And I would appreciate if you stopped calling her.”
“Drakey, you don’t see it the way I see it! I’m older than you, I’ve seen things! You say that now but in a couple of months, maybe weeks, you’ll start feeling unhappy again! Look, she’s back in Cordonia but her life is in America. She’s no longer a Duchess but does she have any job? Did she do anything to stay here? To prove she’s about to stay? Even her dog is still in Vermont. Her job is in New York. That doesn’t look like someone who wants to stay with you, Drakey. It looks like a person who’s planning her life without you. And breaking our family in the meantime.”
Drake looked at Riley and she looked down. Leona had an awful talent to speak things that were true but in a such a way that it sounds worse that it was in reality.
“Leona...” Drake’s voice was breaking and Riley almost started crying herself. “I no longer believe you. I... You did it yourself, you know. You broke our family. I love Riley. Whether you accept it or not, I’m not going to change my mind. I don’t want to see you calling Riley ever again and I’d like to ask you to stop calling me as well. I... I don’t want to talk to you for a bit. And you can tell Mom, I’m not going to visit her in Texas this summer. I don’t want to be around you when you’re so full of hatred towards someone I love so much. And if you don’t comply... I’ll have to take it to the courtroom. You can’t harass us all you want without any consequences. Liam will help me make you unwelcome in Cordonia. So please, think about it and accept that I’m living my own life, separate from you.”
“Drakey...” Leona was crying. “She’s breaking the family. She’s turning you against me when I’m trying to protect you from a heartbreak, baby. Drakey, I love you, don’t do this.”
“Please, don’t call us again,” Drake said and hung up. Then he blocked Leona’s number on Riley’s phone and his.
“Are you... okay?” Riley asked when he handed her phone.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you want--”
“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in a few hours,” Drake said getting out bed and putting on his jacket. He didn’t even change from his pajamas. Riley followed him with her eyes and gulped. Did Drake realize he was making a mistake by being with Riley?
Drake opened the door and hesitated. He turned back, kissed Riley’s forehead and only then walked out.
Drake was gone for most of the day. It was evening, the sky was already dark and Drake was still gone. He did reply to all Riley’s messages though, saying he needed more time and that he was okay but Riley still worried. It was getting colder and Drake was only in his PJs and a jacket. He didn’t eat the whole day.
Riley was making her teenth cup of chamomile tea when she heard Drake coming back.
“Drake!” She cried out and launched herself into him. He was very cold but his arms were still the coziest place known to Riley. He returned the hug and Riley felt melting into him.
“Are you better? You know what, just go change into warmer clothes and I’ll reheat the soup for you, okay? And I’ll make tea. Do you want me to add whiskey to it?” She asked.
“Shh, we’ll talk when you’re not cold and hungry, okay? Don’t worry about anything!” She said it more to herself than to him. Truth be told, she was very nervous and didn’t know what to think. She only hoped Drake wouldn’t change his mind.
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