#*string of incomprehensible swear words*

[studentbyday]

*forces a smile*

stuck on cs50's recover 🙃🙃🙃(🤬🤬🤬)

[houndofllove]

Price comes to you bathed in crimson.

Not an unusual sight, the first time under different circumstances: rain pattering against the windows, a harsh pound against your door and a man who you couldn't call your own yet. Murmurs from swollen breath, one eye unseeing, teeth a blooming pink. Your hands working as though dealing with fragile china.

You know better now. After a year of this you know that soft hands are the last thing he wants, his own shaking prying fingers wrapped around your wrists. No, he always says, just get it done.

And you do. Always the diligent one. Always wrapping and icing and checking halfway through the night. Cool, wet rags dragged across his skin, blood flaking away. Knuckles wiped clean. The dirty deeds poured down the drain.

Price is always grateful, the rewards for your patience never delayed. Your body pressed against the length of him when it's more dawn than dusk, the flickering amber bulb from across the room. Only the faint rasp of his voice, the featherlight touch over your skin drawing up and down along your side.

"Thank you." John always starts with, fingers trailing lower until it's circles he's drawing over your hip. Your own head on his chest, listening intently to the thumping of his heart against his ribs.

Your response is always a small hum, an acknowledgment without making it anything more.

Words are unnecessary when you're so easily pliant, once a fighter, once resisting his pleasure because you thought that in his state he couldn't give it. It's only in these circumstances that he gives it to you like this: without strings. Without the complicated threads which keep you tied to him, both of you trying to unravel them only to make more knots.

Sex without arguments. Sex without expectation.

A hand slipping underneath your shorts, two fingers pinching your clit, blood swelling underneath the hood and a strangled whimper formed between your lips. Older mouth searching for yours, swallowing the sounds, iron flooding your senses just as his fingers press into your cunt, moving with careful purpose.

Your own hips rocking against his hand, cupped palm where he connects with you putting the slightest friction against your clit. Already chasing for more.

"You're so greedy, sweet'eart," he coos into the wetness of your mouth, purple knuckles of his other underneath your neck now reaching up to brush hair off your temples. "It's okay," another kiss pressed to your cheekbone, "take what you need."

Take you do. It seems it's all you do when you're with John these days. Him, the giver, and you the receiver. His body designed for your pleasure. His words not yours.

Feverish skin of his flush against yours now as your shirt crawls up and your shorts creep lower. A thumb over your pearl and his fingers grinding into that spot that has you breathless, squeezing your eyes shut, forehead pressing into his collarbone.

Cursing when you feel the crest and sobbing when you finally come. Something adjacent to euphoria rushing over you in these moments, nails digging into the skin of his working wrist.

Please stop. No. No. Keep going. Oh, I don't know. Just please. Please. Please.

John who is not your saint either. Who is not forgiving or kind. Hands smoothing over your thighs just to turn you over onto your other side, fingertips gripping at your hips as he twists and then pushing inside you, splitting you in two.

His own gravelly swears only for you to hear, hot breath lingering over your ear as you grapple for him behind you. Hips punching. Once, twice, third time makes you cry.

"John–"

A voice you hardly recognise anymore, taken apart by his violent hands. Words incomprehensible as he speaks to you, continues to rock you back onto him, your neck tucked into the crook of his elbow and he presses, not like you know he could, not enough to knock the wind out of you. Just enough to remind you.

He lets you grip onto the meat of his thighs, other fist tightening in the pillow beside you. Whatever makes you feel better. This is his only remedy. A soft, warm cunt after a long hard day. You wish you would hate it but the second orgasm always comes unexpected, always with the return of his own insatiable desire. Likes to feel needed. Purrs when you, in other circumstances, tell him that he's the only one who can.

You whine his name when it does barrel towards you, taking you down into a place you're too familiar with. Dark and light all the same, both too hot and too cold. Fighting against him while spreading your thighs further apart.

John's own release always comes soon after yours. Pleases him to no avail to see you undone by his own means, too tired to keep it up, aches already seeping through the cracks in the codeine. His arms bracketing your body before you can try roll over, still full of him, his own spend now between your thighs.

"Thank you," he says again, face against your shoulder. "So good, y'are. So good."

You believe it. He doesn't run to anyone else, those knots keeping him tethered.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Eight: Never Be Distracted

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 6138

Warnings: swearing, horror, blood, mentions of death, descriptions of gore?

[A/N: this is by far the creepiest thing I have ever written. I did not sleep after writing this. So yay hope you all enjoy! xoxo]

Never Be Distracted

You’re stood in a bare room, a bright white bulb flickering above you.

The room stretches into a hallway, the lights illuminating a path for you to take. But you daren’t move.

A shattering blast of noise drives you forward. You don’t even bother to look back at it. All you know is that you have to run, and keep running.

Double doors burst wide open before your hands can even touch them, leading you into a dark corner. You try to leave, suddenly feeling intimidated by the darkness, but the doors slam shut behind you, and you’re alone.

A blinking light strays you away from insanity. Creeping closer, you feel it calling, pain alighting your fingertips the longer you strayed from contact. It felt consuming. It felt… powerful.

But, as you brush against the small force, it disappears.

“Never be distracted.”

“Don’t look away.”

“Run.”

Screams and yells echo around you, floating like wind whistling past your ears. You can’t focus, spinning around in this dark and empty room. You can make out the voices. Some felt familiar. Others were terrifying.

Your eyelids squeeze shut as a sudden light is shone down on you, illuminating where you stood. It takes a moment to adjust, hand raised above your head to shield your only reliable senses.

It all came in a blur.

The doors fly back open and you stumble back. Blood soaked the walls and floors you ran down, dripping in the cold silence. Crimson lights beamed like sirens, distant screams and crashes causing your hands to twitch with every noise.

You stared down that red hallway until your eyes felt dry, gaze never unwavering from the door at the end. It kept thumping like a heartbeat, getting louder and louder. It looked like something was trying to escape.

The first splinter shattered from the door, and you just stared. You stared and stared and stared. You couldn’t blink. You couldn’t speak.

The pop of a metal hinge barely made you flinch. Whatever was crashing against the door was succeeding, the noises around you getting louder and louder, choir to an incomprehensible buzzing sound.

It finally breaks free, the wooden barrier slamming against the ground. Tears filled your eyes, staring back at a black space drawn into the blood splattered wall. But you could sense it there. Waiting.

Something shifted behind you. Head whipping back, you no longer felt entranced. An object lay on the ground beside you and you frown. Some kind of bracelet, woven by strings. It had something attached, maybe a charm. It glinted in the light.

The hairs on your arm raise. A panicked fear strikes your chest.

Never be distracted. Don’t look away.

Your eyes flicker back to the hallway, heart jumping into your throat.

It was running straight at you.

Run.

Claws rip into your skin as you scream, kicking and pushing at the body. It was digging into your arms, touching your face. The noises around you were blaring against your eardrums, something wet dripping from your mouth.

“Y/n!”

You scream louder, trying to get away, your eyes screwed shut.

“Y/N!”

Then the noise stopped. Everything stopped. All that was left was your aching breath.

Your eyes flutter open and you feel yourself falling back. Anticipating the pain, you gasp. But you never hit the ground.

“Hey, hey, you okay? Y/n?”

You focus on the face in front of you, chest rising heavily. “Steve?”

“So you literally have no other personality other than basketball?” Robin teases, bringing up her leg to rest her foot atop the seat.

“Hey.” Steve frowns, shooting her a glance. “You don’t even know me.”

“Correction. I know that you were captain of our Tigers- go, Tigers- and dated like every girl you could until around Junior year when you unexpectedly started dating Nancy Wheeler. I mean, no one saw that coming, but good for you, I guess.” Robin spewed off facts like it was nothing as Steve widens his eyes. “You throw so many parties that the school practically lives at your house, you’re always ranting about getting a basketball scholarship, and weirdly enough I am fully aware of the crush you had in middle school that you completely ruined but it’s so mind-blowing I can’t even repeat it.”

“I even know that the jump from middle school to high school turned you into a high-class douchebag except, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.” She finished, flopping her head back to hit the headrest. “So, yeah, I know stuff about you. Most of that information came from the fact that I sat behind you in Miss Click’s class for, like, three years now. I know all of that and you couldn’t even remember my name.”

Steve fell silent for a while, focused on the dark roads ahead. Light was falling much quicker than it used to due to the dark cloud looming over Hawkins. It spread further each day. And it should have been his main concern in this moment. But right now, he hated the thought that he was driving with yet another person that hated him. And the sad part was that she had every right to.

“You’re right.” He eventually says, voice quieter than he intended. “I… I don’t know what happened to me either.”

Robin turns towards him in surprise, clearly expecting a snarky response, trying to assess if he was being serious. But what he said was the truth. He had no idea how he became someone he hated.

Maybe it was the pressure of fitting in. Could possibly be the lack of any parental figure since he was 13. But he couldn’t blame his actions on how other people treated him. He made that choice all by himself.

“You’ve changed.” She adds, breaking the silence. Her voice was softer now, still observing him with her sharp eyes. “What happened to King Steve?”

She asked with a light hearted tone, but it felt like a sucker punch to his gut.

“He died.” Steve replies simply, flicking on his headlights when the sun started to fade, before immediately switching them back off.

“Why’d you do that?” Robin asks, frowning into the black of night.

“Uh, trying not to let every monster freak know where we are?” He raises his brows and she raises her arms in surrender, settling back. Steve frowns at himself. Never before did he think he’d be catching himself repeating the same words that left your mouth.

“So…” Robin starts and Steve awaits the next wave of offensive remarks. “This friend of yours. Where exactly do we think she’ll be?”

“I… have no idea.” He admits and she thins her lips, nodding.

“Yep, yep, love a great plan.” She mumbles, her leg bouncing restlessly.

Steve had nothing else to say. No words of comfort. Just that driving force he felt to find you. It still twisted his gut that he had to drag someone else into this mess, but Robin didn’t really have a choice at the end of it. At least this way, he can try and make up those past years to her.

“Wait.” Robin leans forward, both feet planted on the floor of the car as she points, “What is that?”

He turns to her pointed direction and squints, locating the object of her worry and gulping. It looked like smoke, flames dancing at the source. Something was on fire. Maybe even exploded.

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he headed towards it, trusting his gut and following its orders. Steve was glad he still had hope left after all of this.

As they roll past, Robin couldn’t stop the gasp escaping her lips. It was a bus, a school bus to be precise. And the entirety of it was covered in fire. They couldn’t see if anyone had been inside it, nor did they want a closer look to find out.

The most concerning part of all, was the three giant gashes running along the side of it. Something strong enough to rip through metal. Something big enough to take out an entire bus with just one swipe.

They drive around the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of a person before the sun disappeared. Once it hit night, Steve knew he would have to get himself and Robin somewhere safe until morning. He was on borrowed time to find you before it was too late.

He was scared he’d have to give up. He hated the idea of leaving you out here during night, not knowing what state you were in. It was almost funny, having feelings of worry instead of hatred. Not that he didn’t find you any less annoying, but Steve felt like he owed this to you. After all, you were willing to push aside your feelings and take him with you to the cabin. It’s just a shame your journey didn’t end there.

“Steve. Steve!” Robin patted his arm. Correction: she whacked his arm with enough force to bruise until he batted her away. He would have snapped at her if it weren’t for her outstretched finger lighting his way to unknown victory.

There, stood in the middle of the road, was a girl. She was facing away from the approaching car, staring at the rubble of a building in the distance. She bore a hoodie, the back printed with lettering.

Harrington [4] Hawkins Tigers

His heart jumps as he brakes the car into a stop, quickly glancing around him before calling out.

“Y/n!” He says and Robin turns to him with furrowed brows. He barely notices, opening his door when you didn’t respond. He’s ready to run towards you until that fear pangs in his chest.

Was it really you?

“Pass me the shotgun.” He says, reaching his hand through the car.

Robin stares at him in disbelief. “What? No!”

“It’s just in case!” Steve pleads, waving his hand around. “What if it’s not her?”

“You won’t shoot until we know for sure?” She asks with little faith in him. He shouldn’t be surprised that Robin didn’t instantly trust someone that only ever showed his worst side through high school.

“I promise.” He says and the metal is placed into his hands.

Steve creeps forward, quickly glancing down at the hands dangling by your sides. They were human, for sure. But that didn’t make his heart beat any slower.

The sound of a car door opening stopped him in his tracks and he turns to hiss at Robin, signalling for her to get back into the car.

“Get back in the-”

“You can’t tell-”

“Just go back in the damn-”

“What if-”

“Go!” He finally puts his foot down and she grits her teeth, glaring at him.

She sends him the middle finger before climbing back into the car, gently closing the door. Steve sighs, turning back.

He circles around, still calling your name, quieter this time.

When he finally sees your face, he almost drops the shotgun. You were stood deathly still, a blank expression, staring at nothing. And what he sees, he’s not even sure is real. Your eyes were completely black, the space fluttering below your eyelids like… like dust. Maybe the dark was playing tricks on him.

“Y/n.” He swings the shotgun over his shoulder and closes the space, waving his hand in front of you. “Can you hear me?”

You don’t respond, and his stomach lurches.

“Y/n, hey. Y/n?” He tries again and again, but you’re not moving. He has to do something.

“Y/n!” He raises his voice and moves forward to grab your shoulders.

And then you scream.

Steve almost jumps as you start to thrash about, trying to push away from him. He keeps yelling out your name, reminding you it’s him. But he soon realises that you have no idea he’s there, and your eyes suddenly screw shut, trying to get away from something he couldn’t see.

“Y/N!” He yells at you one final time before you finally stop, rendering you dead silent.

Then your eyes flutter once more until they return to a familiar hue. You gasp, falling back, and Steve is quick to wrap his arms around you just in time to stop the impact of the ground shattering you completely.

“Hey, hey, you okay? Y/n?” He panics, the whole situation making his stomach sick. You’re not talking, tears streaming down your face.

And then you finally notice him, glistening eyes focused on his.

“Steve?” Your voice is hoarse and quiet. You looked at him in relief before suddenly wrapping your own arms around his neck and sobbing. It was a surprise to have you willingly pull him closer, but he doesn’t let go.

Steve gently lowers you both to the ground and holds onto you. You two had never been this close before. In fact, a few days ago you would have rather died than ever let Steve Harrington touch you. But right now, that pettiness was put aside. Right now, you just needed someone to hold.

“Is everything okay?”

A small voice echoes out and you halt your cries, sniffling as you try and turn around. Steve releases his grip on you, still touching your arms with a worried frown. You try not to think anything of it and search through the dark.

“Oh my god.” Robin steps closer with wide eyes. “Y/n?”

“Robin?” You frown, trying to stand up but feeling like your legs were going to break beneath you. You instinctively grab onto Steve’s arm and his breath hitches, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he helps you stand before clearing his throat.

“You two know eachother?” He asks, glancing between both of the girls smiling at one another.

“Yeah, she’s-” You begin but Robin interrupts as she leaps forward.

“Only her best friend!” She almost yells, managing to catch you in a hug and Steve stumbles away, wincing as he holds his arms out in fear you might topple over again. “Where the hell have you been?”

“A little busy fighting monsters.” You chuckle, feeling dizzy.

She holds you tighter and you can feel her shaking against you. She always tried to hide just how nervous she got in certain situations, usually talking your ear off in attempt to calm herself down. But this time she shook like she was terrified.

“Robs…” You start, the dizziness creating spots in your vision.

“I never apologised.” She blurted, stepping to hold you at arm’s length. She opened her mouth to spew out an apology but instead her face twists in concern. “I- Hey, are you okay?”

Steve raises his head and moves closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” You bat them away. Or, at least, that what you thought you did. But you were batting in the wrong direction. You blink. “Woah, okay, I think I need to sit down.”

Something chittered in the street, echoing from the far side of the darkened alleyways.

“No objections here.” Robin’s eyes were wide and she loops her arm around you, leading you back to the car.

Steve cocks the shotgun and follows, trying to anticipate danger before the danger attacks. He’s pulling the back door open for you as you crawl in, trying to stop your hands from trembling. You felt sick, and your head was throbbing.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He nods to Robin, making sure she’s safely inside the car before he slips back behind the wheel, slotting the shotgun down the side of Robin’s legs.

As he reversed, he couldn’t help his eyes anxiously flickering to his rear-view mirror. It was too dark to really see you, but your eyes glinted with terror every now and then, and he has to bite back his questions. Steve was so close to the lab now, there was no point to inevitably start another argument with you.

He hated that he was worried about someone that mutually detested him. But he hated that haunted look on your face more.

The car was silent for a few minutes, a tension in the air no one addressed. Tonight had been too spooky for everyone, and now you needed to just calm down and collect your thoughts.

It wasn’t until Robin’s voice cuts through the air that you even zone back into reality, the feel of the car soothing you into your own world.

“Woah.” Robin leans forward with squinted eyes. “Is it just me or did everything just get really dark?”

You raise your head to peer out of the window by your feet. It was pitch black and, as you glance to the windscreen, you realised Steve was driving blind.

“We need to stop.” You try to stay, but it was merely a whisper. You were feeling more nauseas by the minute, blinking back tears you couldn’t find the source for.

“What was that?” Robin turns in her seat to face you, craning her neck around the headrest. Something bubbled in your stomach.

“Stop.” You mumble, sure she wouldn’t hear you. But her eyes widen and she whips her head to Steve.

“She’s right.” She nods and Steve frowns.

“What?”

“We have to stop.” She repeats and he cocks a brow. “Seriously, Steve, you can’t even see where you’re driving!”

“No, I know what I’m doing, okay? We’re close.” He says, grip tightening on the steering wheel. As they argue, you feel your throat tightening and an unsavoury amount of saliva collecting below your tongue.

“You can’t-”

“God, do you have to object to everything-”

“When you’re being a dingus, yes!”

“A dingus? What, are you twelve-”

“Oh, shut up-”

“STOP THE CAR!” You suddenly yell out and Steve instinctively slams on the brakes, halting the car to a complete and final stop.

Before they can react any more, you’re fumbling with the handle and stumbling out onto the road. Steve’s brows shoot up and he practically bursts out of his seat and runs over to you, all while Robin sits in shock.

“Hey!” Steve calls after you as you run to what you assume is the edge of the woods, and then you kneel to the ground, planting your hands in front of you.

His footsteps skid to a stop when he hears you vomiting, coughing up what sounded like your entire stomach. Steve would know how you were feeling; he hosted too many parties to never suffer the consequences. But Steve was very sure you weren’t experiencing a hangover.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He moves closer and you hold out a shaking hand.

“Don’t.” You say softly and he bites his tongue.

“We have to keep moving-”

“Oh my god, just stop.” You suddenly snap, turning back to face him. He could just make out your features in the night, his eyes adjusting to the dark circles under your eyes. “I don’t take orders from you.”

You’re suddenly standing, glaring at him. There wasn’t an ounce of certainty in your actions, but you felt angry, and he was right there.

“You can pretend like you’re the hero, Harrington, but we both know you haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re doing.” You say and he clenches his jaw.

“We need to get to the lab, you said it yourself-” Your noise of irritation cuts him off.

“What is it with you and that lab?!” You yell out, hearing Robin’s door open.

“Everyone that loves us is there!” He steps forward, flinging his arm out in a general direction.

“No, everyone that loves youis there!” You retort, shaking your head. “You’re doing this for your own selfish reasons and you’re gonna get us all killed!”

His features were starting to blur so you rub your eyes, turning away. You knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. But god, did you need to let out your frustrations.

“Woah, settle down, lovers.” Robin interrupts, earning glares. “We can all agree that this has been a horrible day. And Y/n… we can’t imagine what you went through before we found you and I can only assume that’s why you’re acting out right now.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you lower your head and gnaw at your bottom lip, refusing to comment.

Robin sighs. “But I agree with her.”

“What-” Steve starts but she shushes him loudly.

“We’re not gonna make it there if we can’t even see it.” She points out and he shuts his mouth, placing his hands on his hips. “But we also can’t stay out here so we need to come up with something, and fast.”

“I have a tent in my trunk.” Steve offers and you both look at him weirdly. He blinks before feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. “Hey, woah, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean I have an actual tent- in my car. A plastic sheet in my car.”

“Pervert.” You grumble and he looks like he’s about to explode.

“Did you say something?” He challenges, narrowing his eyes.

“Did you say something?” You mock, the steam practically pouring out of his ears. “My head hurts, I feel gross, I just want to rest without someone almost crashing.”

“I didn’t almost crash!” Steve folds his arms and you raise your eyebrows.

“You would have!”

“You would have.” He mimics now and you make a sound of disgust.

“You’re such a child.”

“I’m the child?!”

“Oh my god, both of you, shut the fuck up!” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “You’re both children! And I am not your god damn babysitter so pull it together before I beat your heads together!”

“Woah, that’s child abuse, Buckley.” Steve raises his hands, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s a criminal offence.” You chime in and Robin drops her shoulders, rolling her head back to look up.

“I give up.” She whispers out harshly before turning around. “If you two wanna be babies, then fine, be babies. I personally wanna survive the night but no, let’s not listen to Robin and instead bicker about our small-scale rivalry in the middle of the apocalypse.”

“Okay then, if you’re so smart, please tell us what your plan is.” Steve interrupts her and she turns back, frowning.

“Uh, what now?”

“Something would be better than nothing.” You say softly, fiddling with the sleeves of the hoodie.

“Okay.” Robin nods, expressing herself with her hands. “We- we stay in the car, right? And we’ll place the tent over the car and just... try to blend in. Is that… good enough?”

“We can’t just be in the middle of the road.” Steve frowns, peering around. “Maybe I can try and park it between some trees or something.”

“Believe me, we don’t wanna be by any trees right now.” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself. You could still see your imposter now, staring at you, mocking you.

“That still leaves us out in the open.” Steve exasperates, feeling like he was getting nowhere.

“We can always camp out there.”

They both turn to where you’re pointing in the dark, eyes widening. A clash of lightning struck in the sky, illuminating the eerie shadow long enough for Robin to make sounds of protest.

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head, pouting. “Nope. No.”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Steve squinted, your small action of resting your hand on the back of your head not going unnoticed.

“Not a-” Robin gasps, staring at you both like you were mad. “That’s the murder house. A house doesn’t get a name like that ‘cause it’s all cute and cuddly!”

“Okay, yeah, I agree.” Steve points to Robin and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, whatever.” You sigh, not feeling nearly strong enough to be standing for much longer right now. “We’re just gonna have to risk it. We’ll put the tent over like Robin said, maybe use a flashlight and dim it with clothes or something so it’s not too bright.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Robin smiles unsteadily, already bounding over to the car and waiting on shifted feet.

“I guess it’s our only option.” Steve offers, turning away, but your stomach churns out in guilt.

“Sorry for calling you a pervert.” You mumble and he raises his brow, stopping.

“Uh… thank you?” He narrows his eyes in confusion. When have you ever apologised to him?

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” You say, more of a demand than a social courtesy.

Then you’re walking away, your steps a little more forced and wobbly than before. Steve can’t help but question every little thing you do. Not because he was frightened you might be a shapeshifter, he had left that worry behind a long time ago.

Maybe he was over-reacting, trying to find something to occupy his mind and Jesus Christ, did he not want it to be you. It was bad enough you were both arguing again. And he always did this. He found someone else to worry over so he didn’t have to worry about himself.

When you had all finally clambered into the car after successfully flipping the tent sheet over the vehicle, Steve drops the tarp behind him as he closes the door, locking it.

The sleeping arrangements had been made silently. You and Robin were in the back, happy to be facing eachother in slumped sitting positions against the car doors, while Steve stayed in the front, able to recline his seat just enough that Robin had enough space behind him to be comfortable. He also wanted to make sure he was ready to drive at a moment’s notice.

“I can’t see where I should put my legs.” Robin squirms, her worn converse bumping into your shins with every movement. “Stupid long legs.”

“Hold on.” Steve sighs, rooting around the backpack currently resting on the passenger seat. He grabs the flashlight and a spare t-shirt, wrapping the front of it like you had suggested. “Here.”

Passing it backwards over his head, Robin takes it from his hand and locates the switch, smiling.

“That’s better.” She points it at your legs and you both come up with your own solution; you bend your knees to rest against the back to allow your friend enough room to spread herself out. She sighs happily, smiling up at you. “Thank-”

Her smile drops and she leans forward. “Uh, I don’t wanna freak you out, but you look…”

As she tries to search for the word, Steve twists around in curiosity and his face falls.

It had been dark when they found you, only really making out features that were undeniably you. Now that there was light, they could see exactly what the missed.

One side of your head was covered entirely in dark red, running down to your jawline. Dirt was smudged across your cheeks, your eyes reddened like you had been crying. Steve could even see the small cuts and scratches on the back of your hands when you tried to cover your face.

“What happened?” Robin asks quietly, reaching to take one of your hands in hers. She wasn’t really a touchy kind of person; physical contact usually made her feel uncomfortable, especially when someone didn’t understand her boundaries. But she’s always had a soft spot for people that accept her. People like you.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, trying to avoid the eyes staring at you.

“Did you hit your head again?” Steve frowns and you take a breath.

“Yep.” You sound and his eyes widen. “Look, I know it’s bad and I probably have a serious concussion right now-”

“Y/n, we’re way past concussion, you’ve hit your head twice in like two days!” He sits up straight and your brows furrow at his worry.

“Okay, calm down.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re gonna give me a headache. On top of this headache.”

“Jesus, you should have said something!” He continued, not lowering his volume as you implied. He was suddenly reaching forward, leaning towards you and you physically sink back into the seat.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there, buddy?” You grimace, but he pays no attention, reaching straight past you and grabbing onto something hidden at the back.

Your eyes widen slightly. “My backpack?”

You hadn’t even thought to look for it when you woke up. It had serious supplies in it as well; food, water, first aid. Basically everything you need to survive.

“Technically mine.” He shoots a look while rifling through its contents. “But yeah. It was left on the side of the road with your shotgun.”

“Huh?” Robin looks up, snapped out of her own reality. “I feel like I’ve missed a huge chunk of Y/n and Steve’s happy-time adventures.”

“Not even a single happy-time, Robs.” You sigh. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Here.”

You turn to see Steve’s hand offering you white pills, a little paracetamol to help ease the pain. In his other, he held a water bottle. Without arguing, you silently took them from him and gulped the painkillers down, trying to reserve as much water as you could through the littlest sips.

“I don’t suppose you have an ice pack?” Robin asks and Steve frowns.

“Yes. Yeah, I’ve been carrying around ice in my backpack for almost three days now.” He deadpanned. Robin knotted her brows.

“Sorry.” She said with a huff, sitting back. “Just don’t want my best friend to die on me, I apologise if my panicking leads me to ask stupid questions.”

“I’m not gonna die, Robs.” You say just as you wince, looking up at her. “Well, not right now, at least?”

“If you die, I’m personally gonna climb up to heaven and drag your ass back down.”

“Yeah, like she’s going to heaven.” Steve snorts and you roll your eyes.

“Ooh, burn.” You mock and he clicks his jaw, looking away.

“Don’t die.” He says, getting comfortable. “And if you do, die silently.”

“If any of us were to die tonight, it’s gonna be out of murder.” You grit your teeth and turn to find Robin’s wide eyes glancing between you.

“You guys are terrifying. And on that note, I’m going to sleep.” She shakes her head, snuggling back into the door. “Y/n, don’t kill Steve. And Steve, don’t let Y/n die. I wish everyone a happy nightmare.”

“Story of my life.” Steve mutters before he’s silent again, shutting his eyes.

You don’t fall asleep for a little while, at least not until the meds kick in. You were never good at switching off your thoughts in the silence, especially when there are so many things lurking in the dark around you.

There was that little voice that wondered around your head, exploring the caverns on your memories, pulling out ancient artefacts you had buried as soon as you found them. That little voice right now was leading you through the tumbling series of unfortunate events you recently faced. The monsters, the blood, the shadow. That cold nightmare of the blinking hallway.

It circulated over and over until you tired yourself out from the anxiety. Once you heard Robin’s heavy breaths, you quietly reach over and switch off the flashlight. It was going to take some more time, but your eyelids were already drooping from exhaustion, sleep calling you to unconsciousness. And, eventually, you let yourself drift.

Steve assumed he was the only one awake until the light suddenly disappeared. He had blinked against the plunged darkness before hearing movement behind him. Out the corner of his eye, he could just make out your shape, your head resting gently against the back seat.

He had so many questions. So many he knew you would refuse to answer. And he knows you were never close, even when you weren’t ripping eachother’s throats out. But he couldn’t ignore how much he needed to know to satisfy his mind.

And he was getting really bad at ignoring that pit in his stomach whenever he sees you’re hurt.

You’re stood in a bare room, a bright white bulb flickering above you. It all feels too familiar.

The room stretches into a hallway, the lights illuminating a path for you to take. It takes you a second before you realise you’ve seen this before.

A shattering blast of noise drives you forward. You’ve already done this before and yet, you keep running. You don’t have a choice.

Double doors burst wide open before your hands can even touch them, leading you into a dark corner. You try to leave, suddenly feeling intimidated by the darkness, but the doors slam shut behind you, and you’re alone…

Except you’re not alone this time.

Someone stands further into the room, turned away from you. You should feel scared. But you move closer, somehow feeling safer.

You notice they have longer hair, reaching their shoulder blades. It’s the only feature your mind can decipher, like something was blocking you from the full truth. You reach out, hoping they can help.

But, as you brush against their shoulder, they disappears.

“Never be distracted.” A voice whispers out, distinctively female.

“Don’t look away.” It’s an older man this time, gruff and hoarse.

Then comes a softer voice, male, all too familiar. “Run.”

Screams and yells echo around you, floating like wind whistling past your ears. You knew they were coming and you try to search the dark for anything new. But the noise was just too overwhelming to focus.

Instinctively, you squeeze your eyes shut just as a sudden light is shone down on you, illuminating where you stood. It didn’t blind you this time, and it gave you an opportunity to view a piece to this nightmare you hadn’t seen before.

You opened your eyes to watch a silhouette passing through you, like a ghost. It ran to the front doors and pulled them apart, then it disappeared. You couldn’t make out its features either. You weren’t even sure it had any.

It all happened again. The blood soaked walls and floors, beaming sirens, distant screams.

Your eyes flicker to the door that kept thumping like a heartbeat, growing louder and louder. It would only be seconds before something broke through. And maybe this time, you’d know what it is. And not get distracted-

The bracelet.

Knowing you had time, you turn around quick enough to see that you weren’t alone again. It was the same person as before, still quiet, still faceless. Except this time they were facing you, hair clinging to their face like sweat. They were on the ground, swiping their arms in front of them like they were swatting something away. Or protecting himself.

There was a sudden shift, their shadow bleeding red. Their wrist flicked to the side as they fall back down completely, fading into the floor like they were never there. All that was left, was what had broken from their wrist.

It was the same as the last nightmare; some kind of bracelet, woven by strings. It had something attached, maybe a charm. It glinted in the light. And this time, it had snapped in half, frayed edges of the circling rope. You look a little closer, noticing a figure eight etched into the shiny metal dangling from it. Infinity?

The hairs on your arm raise. A panicked fear strikes your chest. Everything was quiet. You had looked away for too long.

Never be distracted. Don’t look away.

Part of you didn’t want to turn around, already knowing the outcome. But this nightmare had to end.

You slowly turn around.

And it was staring at you, barely a breath away.

Dark green eyes.

“Run.”

You wake up, jolting. There wasn’t a sound that left your lips, no movement from the other sleeping bodies to indicate you had been loud. You were sat silently, back soaked in your own sweat, gulping against your racing heartbeat.

Sighing, you notice the colours of morning peeking through the thin gaps of the tent hiding you, decorating the car with various slices of burning hue.

Your eyes drift to the driver’s seat, soft snores from the head lolled against the window, fogging the glass.

Then you settle on the girl in front of you, her arms wrapped around herself while her legs had been flailed across the back seats, one even over yours. She always fidgeted in her sleep, evidence from the many painful sleepovers you had enjoyed.

Something on her wrist glints in the light, catching your eye. You don’t fully acknowledge it at first, caught in the haze of your waking nightmare. Then it shines again.

A chill ran down your spine, an unhealthy thumping in your chest. How could you have forgotten?

You were the one that gifted her that charm, and you had watched her weave that bracelet onto her wrist, a satisfied smile on her face when she had tied the final strings.

Chapter Nine: An Alliance Or A Mistake? ->

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @80saestheticismyfav .

[touteytout]

toutettout. where is uiryah from (countr)y and what does she sound like maybr if you have a voice canon and. what would she say if i pulled a string that made her talk

hiiiiii emptylotfiasco my beloved... uriyah is ukrainian but she moved to germany at age 20 (in 2012)!!!!

for her voice: i imagine her voice is really deep and raspy, courtesy of years of smoking... i guess something similar to Katy Karrenbauer or Miley Cyrus.

she talks incomprehensibly fast and in a flat tone, also uses a lot of colloquialisms and puts at least 1 swear word in every sentence. if you pull her Talking String shed either just go "Boah Junge" ( in the context something like come on dude in english) OR say a random word or quote bc she picks those up like a parakeet that has been left in front of the tv for to long.

she also picks up accents like that, when speaking english she a has a noticeable essex accent from watching towie or something

[caffsy]

FFXIV Write #21 – Shade

During the investigation afterwards, it had been determined that the Moks’ self-immolation had been a byproduct of the spell that he had attempted to cast. It was found that it had great similarity to western thaumaturgy, but drew in a vast amount of aether from an unknown source. The great amount of power, more than he could handle, had sparked out of control and burned him alive from the inside.

Yusi was banking on that selfsame effect as she willed the selfsame spell into existence. The mixing of her and her target’s lifebloods and her magic tool embedded within the great sandworm gave her enough of a sympathetic link to alter the spell’s destination.

The sand worm attempted to burrow away but could not help but writhe in place as if it were shaking off a swarm of intangible creeping vilekin. Yusi’s spell had effectively lit a fire within its body, centred on the sceptre. She continued incanting the syllables turning the rhythmic syllables, which rent the air asunder and wrought countless sleepless nights, into a salvation. A keen shattering sound indicated the swift southward direction of this plan.

The simple bone sceptre had no chance of holding within the raw power channelled by the advanced spell and had shattered, scattering bone and crystal fragments. No longer with a focus to anchor to, the spell which had run wildfire once before did so again to its two participants. Yusi’s incanting had been cut off to protect herself from flying shards and she screamed as her blood heated. She laid flat against the cool sand and took deep breaths, making use of her wide vocabulary by stringing together an incomprehensible paragraph of multilingual swear words.

Yusi felt like it could have been seconds, minutes, or hours before the stupor of heat and pain waned enough for her to string thoughts together. She crawled over the dune and grabbed her spear, using the haft to support her as she shakily got to her feet.

She hobbled over to her backpack, which had gotten flung off in the entire ordeal, and tore into the few supplies she still had left. She was exhausted, famished, in terrible pain, deeply dehydrated. She was in no mood to plan or think critically, and so she unfurled another curio from the depths of her backpack. She pulled out the long carpet, laid it beside the carcass, and pushed with all her might to roll the sandworm onto it.

A small trickle of magic was all it took to get the carpet to lift briefly into the air. It would run out of its own power soon enough and begin unravelling – cannibalising itself for fuel. In Yusi’s opinion, it was going to hold. It would hold. Or else.

The lingering warmth, or deadened nerves, from the spell that doomed the worm shaded Yusi from the frigid desert air as she retraced her steps back to the entrance to Sector Phi. She could not have told why no further predators decided not to ambush, but in the moment, she felt certain that it was her terrible attitude.

[neuvillettes]

incomprehensible | xiao

kinktober day two | overstimulation

summary | lightning is such a common fear but you need a distraction and xiao is perfect company

pairing | xiao x fem!reader

warnings | ptsd, scar mentions, swearing, smut, overstimulation, oral (f ⇾ m), dacryphilia, creampie, slight breading if you really squint, cum swallowing, masturbation, dub (just to be safe), just a slightly messy and whimper-y xiao

wc | 3.9k

a/n | don’t come at me for the wc >.< also this was supposed to be out yesterday but tags were being shitty :(

your travels to inazuma had finally come to an end, although, you would miss the people you had met along the way. you were still happy to be able to have some time to relax before your next journey began and maybe…maybe you missed a certain brooding but secretly soft and handsome adeptus. you had found yourself spending most of your sleepless nights in inazuma thinking of him. much like tonight, most of those sleepless nights were because of the thunder storms that frequented the inazuman skies.

you hated to admit it, but…thanks to ei, you found yourself with a new fear of lightning. you bore no ill will onto the lost archon, you knew she was only doing what she thought was right. however, you couldn’t help but flinch every time you saw lightning flash and paint a purple streak across the dark skies, felt the low rumble as the air seemed to shake, and heard the deafening boom travel across the land. it chilled you to your bone and you often found yourself wanting to call out his name.

he had offered, of course, to come when you called out his name. he told you he would be listening for your voice. but you had a hard time accepting that he would drop everything for you. he must have better things to do than tend to you, he must have meant to only call out for him when it was a dire situation.

a string of lightning flashes through the window of your room in the kamisato clan grounds. both siblings were gone for business, even thoma was sent out for dealings. it was just you in the sizely estate, left in the glow of the dark and electric skies, the crackling of thunder leaving behind echoes through the empty space. tonight was particularly rough. the storm being especially unforgiving and unrelenting at this hour. the current attack causes you to jolt up and a noise of displeasure build in your throat. you take in a shuttered breath, draw your knees to your chest so you can wrap your arms around your legs, then drop your head to rest your forehead on your knees.

your eyes are squeezed shut. the only thing you can hear is the blustering storm outside. that’s why when a voice reaches your ears, your head shoots up in its direction. there, standing before your window and staring out as the lightning illuminated him in an ethereal violet glow, stood the very adeptus whose company you had been craving. xiao, conqueror of demons, the general alatus, and the vigilant yaksha guardian.

surely you were seeing things? how would he know where to find you? why would he seek you out?

you look up at him in question as he speaks. “many mortals fear lightning… incomprehensible. fear of something so common.” he’s speaking softly, almost as if he was thinking out loud.

“xiao…?” you’re too stunned to form a proper response. but as you sit there, letting the initial shock of his presence distinguish, what he had said sinks in. you frown at his words and look away in shame.

xiao finally turns his gaze to you and studies your expression. his brow draws together and he fists his hands. he knew instantly that he had said something wrong. you further prove his conclusion by gasping in shock as another violent thunder rumbles through the land and shakes your living quarters. you fist the sheets below you and screw your eyes shut.

you were trembling. you could feel it deep within your core. how pathetic, you thought. utterly pitiful. you had battled dragons, defeated ruin devices and taken down other various beasts and monsters. why was the lightning affecting you so deeply? and why did xiao have to be here, to witness your weakness. it was obvious, by his previous statement, that he thought the same. you wanted to sink into yourself and hide away for eternity. ironic, considering what you had just achieved in the nation of eternity.

xiao hesitates, he feels as though he’s frozen in place as you visibly perspire and pale. your breath becomes rapid with a jagged force. even then xiao wavers, he has always been wary of getting too close to mortals, but for some reason you were different. he didn’t understand the reaction he had when you were around. but he knew that whenever you were around, he wanted to be around you, he wanted to be as close to you as you would allow, he wanted to be there to fight your demons for you. after all, that was his job as demon conqueror, general alatus.

of course, that was easier said than done, especially since most of your demons seemed to be internal. xiao curses under his breath as you let out a whimper, your body now twitching with how forceful your trembles have become. your senses have become dull, limbs feeling heavy and mind shrouded in mist as you tried but just couldn’t bring yourself to focus on calming your violently beating heart. you were vaguely aware of the obvious panic that had settled in, but xiao was acutely aware.

the golden-winged king couldn’t stand it any longer. he approached you cautiously, not wanting to startle you in your already frightened state. xiao was famously awkward with people, even he himself was aware of that, but this was something he was used to. when the other yaksha began to succumb to madness, one by one, he would often help them through similar episodes such as the one you were going through at this very moment. it hurt him to see you like this, memories of his loved ones floating up to the surface of his mind. he took a deep breath before drowning them once more. now was not the time to think about his painful past. he needed to focus on you.

xiao stopped by your bedside and crouches down so he can look at your downcast face. you were pale and had sweat beading down the side of your face. his heart sinks at the terror in your features is apparent. he was deeply regretting his previous words. the shocks in your eyes when he appeared before you made it clear you hadn’t even realized that you were the one to call out for him.

the yaksha reaches out for you but halts before he can actually touch your hand. he’s not sure if you realized how close he was to you and didn’t want to startle you further by suddenly making physical contact. so he decides to speak softly first.

“i’m sorry, yn, i didn’t realize…” xiao’s fingers are barely brushing your own when your hand shoots out and suddenly you have your arms wrapped tightly around the adeptus’ neck, your body twisted and halfway hanging off the mattress.

xiao lets out a surprised grunt but returns your embrace. his breath catches in his throat when you bury your head into his neck and your warm breath fans over the sensitive are. goosebumps rise on his skin but he ignores the strange feeling that bubbles in him. he had to focus on your right now, he could ponder these strange reactions later. your breathing has slowed and is almost regular now that you’ve anchored yourself to xiao. he relaxes a bit at this notion, knowing you find solace in his presence brings a soft smile to his face.

the former general holds onto you tightly as he rises to his feet, he shuffles onto the bed and settles you in his lap. you make a noise that’s something between a hum and a whimper. it’s shown through xiao’s actions that he wasn’t repelled by your common fear, despite his previous statement. the notion was enough to clear the fog that was swirling in your mind. you take a few deep and steady breaths before softly speaking.

“how did you… why are you here? how did you know where to find me?” your voice is muffled but xiao understands you all the same.

as he suspected, you hadn’t even realized what you had done. “you called out for me, crystalfly.”

the name he called you caused your heart to flutter and heat rise to your face. you hadn’t even realized it, but in your fear, you must have said the guardian’s name out loud. you feel a blush rise to your face, how embarrassing for you to have subconsciously called out for him. yet another reason for him to think you weak.

you move your hands to fist the thin and tight material of xiao’s top. “‘m sorry…didn’t realize i said it out loud…”

xiao furrows his brow, what brought someone as brave as you to a state of terror like this. you hadn’t always been scared of thunder storms had you? xiao recalls spending stormy days with you and that made him realize this reaction was new. you hadn’t been scared of storms, which means something happened to you in inazuma.

xiao takes hold of your jaw and gently lifts your face so that you have no choice but to look at him. “what happened.”

you try to break free of the yaksha’s grasp. you felt pathetic and didn’t want to look him in the eye while being filled with so much shame. he doesn’t loosen his grip, he stays firm and waits patiently for your answer. it wasn’t a request, he was expecting you to explain. you had no choice in the matter.

you sigh and let go of his shirt to gingerly pull the collar of the robe you’re wearing to expose your shoulder. cracks of scar tissue traveled from the base of your neck to the dimples in your back. it was like the lightning had etched itself into your skin. a permanent reminder of the traumatic pain you experience.

xiao watches intently, resisting the urge to look away for your sake as you pull away the cloth. his eyes travel along the markings that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been with you. a flash of hot rage shoots through his body and his grip tightens around you. his breathing becomes uneven and his eyes wild. he was furious, that much was obvious, even to you.

you quickly move to cover yourself up, but xiao is quicker. he stops you, and instead of scolding you he simply traces the tender lines with his fingers. his eyes are unfocused, obviously clouded with rage filled thoughts. a storm of its own brewing in those yellow-green irises.

his voice is low and rasped when he speaks. “ who did this to you?”

you took a deep breath, not having had to tell this tale out loud yourself yet. you recount the first battle you had with the electro archon. how you fought with everything you had and still lost so easily. how you were struck down and just barely made it out with your life. if it hadn’t been for thoma, you don’t think the goddess of eternity would have let you live.

xiao is standing up in an instant, his face set in a cold sneer. but his eyes were still burning with an unfamiliar fire behind them. you expected this reaction so you were fast to capture his arm before he could get too far. you quickly explain the rest of your journey.

“it was resolved.” you plead. not wanting to cause ei anymore trouble.

“what?” xiao looks at you with a conflicted look, almost as if he didn’t believe you but wanted to.

“the raiden shogun, she ended the vision hunt decree after she conceded during our last battle. she’s not my enemy. she was misguided. please don’t go. i need you here.” you practically beg with your eyes, desperate for his company.

xiao’s expression softens immediately, his need to fulfill your plea stronger than his need for vengeance. “okay… what do you need from me?”

“just need you, please, stay with me? need you to distract me.” your voice comes out as a plea again and xiao can’t help the way the hair on the back of his neck stands on their ends at what you say. he knew now was not the time but his body clearly didn’t care. your words, the way you said them, made his body react.

the adeptus couldn't help it, he’d always had an unspoken and deep attraction towards you. he didn’t understand it, he’d never felt so deeply about someone before. sure he’s had relations with others, he was thousands of years old, but nothing quite like what he had with you. it was bothersome at first, day in and day out his only thoughts were of you. he’d find himself distracted by thoughts of your voice, your smile, your embrace, even during his battles.

he wanted you and frankly it scared him. he’d never wanted in all his life, knowing well that wasn’t a luxury he could afford. but recently he had been reminded by an old friend that he wasn’t expected to continue to protect a nation that could protect itself. so, maybe, he could let himself selfishly want something for once in his life.

even in your anxious and still slightly panicked state, you could sense something bothering xiao. he was hesitating, having a battle with his own thoughts. then your mind clears and you realize what you had said and how it sounded. a blush rises to your features, you’re ready to apologize when something occurs to you. he wouldn’t be having an inner battle with himself if he didn’t want you too.

you know xiao means well, but sometimes you wish he wasn’t so considerate of you. so you make the decision for him. you pull him out of his thoughts almost literally by tugging him down and crashing your mouth to his. xiao almost pulls back but clumsily falls into you and deepens the kiss. your eyes are screwed shut and you don’t dare to move.

xiao’s initial shock melts away as he lets out a soft whimper. his eyes slowly shut and his mouth moves to fit yours. that’s when you let yourself relax. his noises give you the confidence to wrap your arms around his neck and lose yourself in him. xiao has made sure to steady himself above you, his legs staggered in between yours, so you can anchor yourself to him with ease.

his mouth moves cautiously at first. he wants to let you lead, but the moment you let out a whimper of your own, that’s when xiao let’s go of all his inhibitions. the kiss deepens, xiao expertly moving his mouth against yours, almost guiding you. you're thankful for it, not sure you’d be able to keep your wits without it. something deep inside you ignites and spreads like wildfire with just the touch of his lips on yours. it makes you want to know how more of his skin would feel on yours. you needed it, becoming quickly addicted to his touch, to his sounds, *to him*.

xiao felt it too, the sudden and powerful addiction to you. he needed more and took it without problem. his teeth sunk gently into your lower lip and you let out a gasp when he sucks on your lip. his tongue is quick to dart out and entangle with your own. you would have never guessed it, but xiao becomes quite vocal when he indulges himself. the noises he’s making are like little melodies that intoxicate you much like a siren’s song would.

you start you feel overwhelmed by the feeling and your fingers rake through xiao’s hair and tug mercilessly. a deep rumble spreads through xiao’s chest in approval of your actions. xiao reluctantly releases your mouth from his. he let’s out a few pants before speaking breathlessly.

“please tell me… tell me you want more and i won’t stop. i just need you to say it and i’ll give you everything you want.”

“want you, xiao… want all of you, please, don’t stop- don’t want you to…” you desperately cling to him, lips parted as ragged breaths escape from them and your eyes beg, plead for him to continue.

that’s all xiao needed to hear because as soon as the words leave your swollen lips, his own are attached to your jaw and leaving a wet trail up then moving down your neck. the former general shifts so his body is placed between your legs. he spends his time leaving wet and tender kisses on your body, being extra soft when he reaches an area that is marked by your scars. it leaves a warmth in your chest that he could be so gentle.

when xiao makes his way to the rope of your robes he peers up at you, silently asking as he kisses the exposed skin right above it. you bite at your lip and gently not in permission. the adeptus wastes no time and nimbly unties the ropes and disrobes you. his eyes wander your now bare body, drinking you in. his voice is hushed but words clear.

“you are so beautiful…”

you’re overcome with a embarrassment and resist the urge to cover yourself. you’re not used to being treated so tenderly, so gently. you feel far more exposed than you should being undressed in front of your new lover. it wasn’t just physically, you felt as if he was looking at your bare soul. it terrified you and thrilled you all at once.

you reach out and clutch the material of xiao’s shirt once again. “your turn. please…”

the yaksha disrobes with a light blush dusting his cheeks, ears and shoulders. xiao has never been fond of feeling vulnerable, but with you he felt safe enough to try. you reach out once he’s removed his last piece of clothing and place your hands on his chest, directly where his heart lies within. you then let your touch lightly travel down his torso. once you reach his hips you steel yourself and glance at his length, it’s standing up and glistens slightly at the slit.

xiao’s breath hitches when you ghost your thumb over his now leaking slit. pleased with his reaction you slowly run your thumb over the opening and spread his precum around the tip of his cock. your movements are slow and calculated. you make sure to touch every centimeter of his head before dipping down to kitten lick at his tip. xiao instantly grips at your locks and let’s out a startled whimper.

“w-what are you…” he trails off with another whimper when you slide your wet lips over his tip. your tongue darts out to circle around his shaft then you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head.

any words are knocked out of xiao the moment you start massaging his balls. the added sensation renders him useless, he’s become putty in your hands. whimpers and moans spilling from his mouth with ease. every noise he makes eggs you on. your thighs rubbing together aren’t enough so you snake your hand down your body and start toying with your clit. you take more of him until your nose is flush with his pelvis. you moan at your own ministrations on yourself and swallow around him a few times, the action causing the adeptus to throw his head back and moan loudly.

xiao’s fingers in your hair desperately grasp at your hair and his breathing becomes erratic. “s-stop- stop ‘m gonna cum, s’close… can’t-“

you don’t listen to him. instead you squeeze his balls a little harder and bob your head, making sure the head of his cock hits the back of your throat each time. the noises being made from above you become increasingly louder. xiao is babbling and chanting your name when his grip tightens further and barely has time to croak out a ‘cummin’ before his warm seed is sliding down your throat. you gladly drink him up before letting him go with a pop.

your fingers have now become as useful as rubbing your thighs were. you push xiao onto his knees and climb on top of him. your lips attach to his neck as you tease your entrance with the tip of his cock. xiao whimpers out, “w-wait! t’much, already came, m’so sensitive-“

you cut him off by sinking down on his length. xiao’s hips stutter and his still hard length twitches inside of you. his eyes prick with tears from the overwhelming sensation and pleasure. you coo at him and kiss the corners of his eyes. you give him a moment to adjust before you start to grind your hips into his.

you have your arms wrapped around xiao’s neck and he holds you close, hands spread across your back. your pants turn into soft whines. you want more but you don’t want to overwhelm xiao further. the former general notices and takes things into his hands. his hips buck into yours and it practically knocks all sense out of you. your back arches so your chest is pressing into his. your head drops back and you let out a high pitched moan.

xiao’s grip on himself is also thinning, his nails digging into your back as he feels his second high quickly approaching. “s’good, feel s’good. s’tight and warm- gonna- gonna cum again, yn-“

you hum with a drunk smile resting on your lips. “go on, xiao, cum inside. want you to fill me up, please~”

xiao drops his head onto your chest and lets out a yelp as he releases his second load into your wet cunt. the feeling of his seed spilling inside of you and the throbbing of his cock along with your continued grinding sends you over the edge as well.

when xiao comes down his breath stutters at your continued stimulation but he doesn’t want it to stop. the anemo user grips your waste and helps you with your movements. you whimper this time and xiao revels in the noises that fill the room. he places his forehead against yours and watches as you struggle to focus on keeping any type of eye contact.

“focus on me, crystalfly. need you to only look at me. gonna do this one more time, think you can handle that, hm?” his smile is tender but there’s a flash of mischief in his hazel eyes.

it takes every ounce of focus you have left in you to maintain eye contact as you stutter out a ‘yes’. this time it’s slow, xiao takes his time. his touch is soft, as is his gaze. you feel a different kind of warmth spread through your entire being. your breaths are labored and the noises you make come out barely above a whisper. xiao’s whimpers have quieted too. due to both of you being overstimulated, it doesn’t take long for either one of you to tip over the edge.

in an instant your both crashing together for the last time. when you come to, you’re completely spent. the last thing on your mind was the raging thunderstorm still alive outside. xiao holds you in his arms as you both finally fall asleep.

taglist | @spookyxiao | @albedxs | @sanzucide | @mxnjiros | @little-miss-chaoss |

[yupyor]

White roses And Red lilies

Summary- It was Valentine's Day. Robb hated Valentine's Day. The excessive amounts of pink and red decoration that would litter the streets were just a sore reminder of his lack of control on his life—particularly in the love department. A result of his mother's endless critiques and demanding criteria pertaining to his spouse. That was 2 years ago, before he tripped over you and so graciously ruined his mother's bouquet of flowers.

I didn't proofread this, so sorry for any errors or anything off. I was binge listening to Laufey and Taylor while writing this so if one second thing go from sad to happy, or them being normal to suddenly flirting that's why, LOL

P.S - This was originally planned for Male readers, but I think I forgot to bring up any pronouns whatsoever, so GN...?

Your steps were fast, the gesture of love Lord Stark had sent you from the fields with for his Lady nestled precariously between your pricked fingers and your upper-chest. One wrong move, and you swear that the thick bouquet of flowers would go splattering against the castle grounds along with you. It was a mixture between freshly picked white roses and bloodred lilies.

It felt honorable at first, being bestowed upon the task to deliver something filled with so much love. Though that was before your legs were threatening to give out beneath you. Now, you couldn't help looking at the copious amount of flowers as a burden, especially since the trek down the hill your group had scavenge over in search for the flowers had worn you out considerably. It didn't help that you could hardly see where you were going either, relying entirely on muscle memory and taking in stuff from the peripheral of your vision.

You take note of the bend in your path up ahead and tighten your hold on the base of the bouquet, motioning into the curve on your right only to go stumbling back into the one on the left, tripping over your unsteady feet and sending more than a dozen pricked flowers soaring through the air.

You groan. You were on the ground—the only one on the ground. The person before you had managed to keep themselves upright despite the abrupt collision.

You see a cheeky smile and quickly after hear several rushed apologies. Though, that all goes to the back of your mind at the realization of who you bumped into.

Standing tall at a staggering height of 5'10 is the first heir of Eddard Stark, his charming blue eyes surveying the mess he had a direct hand in causing before him.

You rush to your knees, spluttering a string of more than likely incomprehensible condolences as you recklessly grabbed at the laying roses. "I am terribly sorry! I was not watching where I was going!"

He chuckled, stooping down to your level before resting beside you, reaching for a few of his own. "Can't say either was I."

"Still i-"

"It's okay," He drawled, "truly."

It was then that you acknowledged the resting distance between the two of you, your pulse elevating at the revelation.

He was close.

So close that you could feel his body's dispelling heat.

Robb smiled. "A lot of admirers, I assume? Can't's say they'll be happy with what I've done to their gestures of affection."

You cringe. "No, actually." You could never. "It is your mother's."

The grimace that had befallen him was more than just sudden, the rate his soft smile dropped sending you reeling. "Is that so... I'm going to get chewed out for this then."

"Only if I tell."

....

You didn't mean that. The words had ripped themselves out of you before you could even comprehend what your mouth had planned to say—and once again, before you could thoroughly think of it, you abruptly turn to your left, facing him directly as you blaringly clarified, "I didn't mean that!"

Though all you got in return was a smirk. "A joke. I know"

That had you smiling, your eyes unconsciously interlocking with his. It hadn't dawned on you that what you were doing was highly incorporate, swallowed whole by the moment.

Robb blinks, and you can't help the flutter within you at the bat of his lashes, only daring to rip your eyes away when he stands up with a handful of flowers and reaches the other out to you.

"I am- I have to..." He pauses, the charged silence between you no doubt having to do with it. "Do you maybe want some help carrying this to my her?"

🖤----------------------------- The End -----------------------------🖤

Robb was kneeling before you, his right hand bent behind his back with a wide, proud grin on his face. "It's Valentine's Day."

"... I know."

"And I got something for you." He outstretched his hand.

"... Yes?" You were laughing now, both the nerves and absurdity of the moment getting to you

"It's your flowers!"

Silence. "... Mines?"

"Yours."

It was a bouquet, but it was not the size that had you marveling at it, giddily smiling to yourself. It was a mix—and there were only two kinds of flowers in it.

White roses and Red lilies.

His mothers. The same set you were struggling to navigate the castle halls with when he had practically trampled over you.

"I know, I know," He rolled his eyes. "It only took 2 years... Best gift?"

".... Best gift." You replied, not missing the way his shoulders sagged in relief.

"I'd hope so, because now I'm all bloody." He paused, hugging you from behind as you continue to marvel at the blooms. "Did you know my father had trekked well beyond 2 hills looking for those. Of course, I upstaged him, but still. The things people do for love."

You turn in his grasp, setting the bouquet of flowers aside before leaning into his hold.

"I ought to think I deserve a gift."

You note the way his left brow quirks at the mention of the gift part. "...A kiss, maybe?"

🖤----------------------------- The End -----------------------------🖤

I'll leave what they do after that up to you guys.

[pomrania]

Ohoho so I have OPINIONS on this issue. It also applies to real-world languages that the audience isn't expected to know (which is NOT synonymous with "languages that the text isn't written in"), but to make things simple, let's just say "fantasy languages".

In general, if the POV character doesn't understand a language, you shouldn't have long bits of stuff WRITTEN in that language, because the character likely wouldn't have registered it as anything other than nonsense, and ABSOLUTELY wouldn't have remembered what exactly it was (unless they have something Very Unusual going on with their memory). If you don't believe me on that, listen to a sentence in a language you don't know, then try to repeat what it said. They could register maybe a few words that are NOT surrounded by to-them nonsense, like if it's surrounded by words they understand, or if it's spoken in isolation; if a particular word or phrase is repeated, they have a greater chance of remembering it; and if it happens to sound EXACTLY like a word in their language, they WILL remember it, because of the sheer incongruity of things (eg the bit which sounds like the English word "saucepan" in that one Welsh rugby song). Basically, it's like… imagine a character gets a glimpse of an Important Letter before someone puts it away. Technically, all the words on that piece of paper were in front of the character's eyes. Would you WRITE what was in that letter, in this scene, even though the character only saw "there's paper and it has words on it"? It's the same concept. When it comes to in-'verse WRITTEN text, where the character can stare at those words all day, there's no time pressure, and still not know what they mean… that gets into my next point. (Of course, this FIRST point mostly applies to things written from a limited POV; "does this character understand what they're seeing/hearing" isn't an issue with less limited perspectives.)

Setting aside "what a character would be able to register or remember". Maybe the POV character is fluent in Draconic, and reading some text written by dragons. I still don't think you should include that whole Draconic-language text (even if you spent a lot of time of it; that's part of making things, sometimes you put a lot of effort into stuff that just doesn't belong in the final piece). To the reader, that's just a string of nonsense. It just takes up space, and provides nothing to the story; and if you give a translation immediately under it, then THAT is the stuff that's useful for the story, NOT the collection of incomprehensible words above.

Actually. If you CAN translate something into the language the text is written in, why DON'T you? Sometimes that's literally not feasible, like you'd have to write a whole sentence in order to get across the meaning of one fantasy-language word, or there's some plot-relevant ambiguity/distinctions. In most cases though, you know exactly what the fantasy-language word says, and it's a direct translation for something in your own language.

Long blocks of text that the reader isn't expected to understand the language, that's just reader-hostile. And, if that's your GOAL, then go for it; but if that's NOT your goal, and you want people to be able to follow the stuff you write, then "the paragraphs of stuff you wrote up in fantasy-language" is best relegated to the appendix, where word-nerds can puzzle over it at their leisure, and non-word-nerds can skip over it.

When it comes to individual words. In GENERAL, I'm against them, but they CAN be used as a garnish. ALMOST always, I think they should either be translated within the story ("the dragon keeps calling me XYZ, what does that mean?"), or be something where the general meaning is easily figured out from context (mostly, greetings and swear words). This is an ALMOST always because I remember a scene from one of the Discworld books, where it made excellent use of a character slipping into fantasy-language for a few nouns, and then footnotes giving what those words meant; when you read it WITHOUT the footnotes, it looks like he's threatening someone (and that's the meaning the listener took), but when you read it WITH the footnotes, you can see that he's being completely straightforward and mild.

…I've gotten pretty distracted, I'd SAID that this is something I have Opinions on, what was the original question… ah, "how should the translation be presented".

To sum up my answer: there shouldn't BE a "translation", because the fantasy language shouldn't be present on page unless a) it's a short bit which is then translated in-'verse or b) you're doing something very intentional with the medium. If your POV character understands fantasy-language, then just write it out in the language you're using for the rest of the story; and if it's "normal" for that character, then don't italicize it, don't even clarify "this was said in fantasy-language" unless it's plot-relevant or surprising to the character ("I didn't know that they could speak Draconic"). If your POV character does NOT understand fantasy-language, you can include isolated words they hear in it, or MAYBE the first few words of something they hear/read in fantasy-language, but then the rest gets described as "something Character didn't understand".

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[katasstrophy]

which guy in bllk (tumblr link btw) (my money is on the itoshi bros)

NONNIE THE WAY YOU MADE ME LET OUT THE MOST UNATTRACTIVE SNORT IN PUBLIC THERE ARE ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES thank you for blessing me with this most important piece of knowledge 🙏🙏🙏

out of the itoshi bros my money is a hundred thousand precent on rin are you kidding this man is wholly made out spite and just the right amount of pettiness 😩🤚 he’s fluent in english so i feel like he wouldn’t have any trouble picking up on all the swears other teams aim at him unlike his dumbass teammates LMFAO and then like the little shit he is he bides his time until he has an arsenal of curse words memorized in like 47 different languages just for the sake of throwing it back at those who “wronged him” PLS HE’S SO DRAMATIC i love him

for sae…. hmmm🤔 i’d love to jump on the bandwagon that he learned spanish due to all the years he was abroad but it’s LITERALLY CANON LIKE,,,, SAE SAID SO HIMSELF THAT his greatest weakness is that he doesn’t know anything besides football and that is simply comedy gold i CANNOT IGNORE!!!! everyone views him as japan’s greatest treasure - this cool and aloof soccer prodigy worth an incomprehensible amount of money but in reality he takes taxis everywhere bc he doesn’t have a drivers license and has to pay his dietitian extra to prepare his meals bc at 23 years of age he still doesn’t know how to boil a pot of rice iM CACKLING. learning a whole ass different language???? forGET ABOUT IT never gonna happen. (i also feel like he just… wouldn’t care enough?? to “waste his time” doing smth like that yk? but you bet ur ass he’s cussing up a storm behind his deadpan face if ur annoying him LOL)

some honorable mentions!!!

shidou - he sticks to cursing in japanese but he looks so dead serious and terrifying getting all up in people’s faces it’s all the rival teams can do not to go home bawling their eyes out this man is FERAL!!!! there’s a whole twitter account with a 120k+ following dedicated to ‘candids of shidou ryusei verbally attacking people’ and it’s entirely made up of players looking like they’re about to shit their pants.

reo - of fucking course the resident billionaire nepotism baby grew up learning all the fancy rich languages. he’s usually very composed on the field, but when someone pisses him off real bad he just casually drops the nastiest string of words you’ve ever heard in your life under his breath then walks away as if nothing happened 😇 his opponents are flabbergasted - a perfect depiction of the surprised pikachu meme - wondering if that actually happened or they’re just having a fever dream (it’s always the first)

karasu and otoya - they’re the idiot duo with two collective braincells you cannot convince me otherwise I LOVE TJEM SM. otoya was full on cheering on shidou and rin while they were having a fist fight ofc he’d be down to learn cuss words in different languages to terrorize other players FOOUUUL karasu needs zero convincing he’s a menace. only problem is that they use GOOGLE TRANSLATE as their super reliable source and bc they think they can do no wrong they don’t even make the app sound out the words for them they just roll with their own pronunciation. they’re swearing on the field with their whole chest puffed out entirely too proud of themselves meanwhile the other players are so confused like??? are they having a stroke help???

[daycareattendanteclipse]

Sun/Moon hc.

-They were originally supposed to be one AI that swapped between characters but the stress of performing all the daycare duties alone caused a lot of malfunctions so they were ultimately split into 2 AI with separate duties and shoved into the same body to cut the costs of making a new body for the other one.

-There was not originally any internal chat option for them. They used to communicate through notes to each other. Someone in maintenance felt bad for them and gave them a private chat option that can't be accessed by others, like staff or animatronics.

-Their note only chats drove daycare staff insane because they would turn the lights on and off everytime they finished their part of the conversation. The lights were always flickering and they ruined so many lightbulbs.

-After their first conversation, staff asked them what they thought about the other (to be sure there were no problems with them working together) and Moon gave them the "I've only known Sun for a couple of minutes but if anything happened to them I'd decommission everyone in this building and then myself" line.

-Their names given by Fazbear Entertainment are just Sun/Moon. Staff and some customers tend to call them Sunnydrop or Sundrop/Moondrop because that's the name of their candies and is on their posters mext to them. However Sun and Moon learned people change their names all the time from kids in the daycare, and they didn't care much for the names they already had so they named each other new ones. Sun renamed Moon "Moonlight" and Moon renamed Sun "Sunrise".

-Because Sun and Moon were programmed to learn and adapt to different situations to help them with their childcare duties, they tend to pick up some weird stuff. Both developed hoarding tendancies and kleptomania, much to the displeasure of basically all the staff. They just don't steal from children.

-Both also picked up how to swear and it got so bad that they had a filter installed that keeps them from cussing in the presence of children.

-Sun tends to mix his child friendly vocabulary and tone with his swears so you get stuff like, "Oh golly God dammit! Look at this fucking pickle we've landed ourselves in!"

-Moon is either incomprehensible strings of cuss words or a very calm and eloquent, "Now listen here you fucking god damn piece of shit..." And the latter means you pissed him off beyond the limit so ya best start running.

And thats it for now I guess.

[izhunny]

Pffffffphh

You never know what’s around the corner. It could be everything. Or it could be nothing. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you’ve climbed a mountain. ~ Tom Hiddleston

[sailorhyunjinz]

7:06 pm

Warnings: softdom!Bangchan x fem!reader. SMUT! Blowjob, praise and degradation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (BE SAAAAFE), orgasm (m/f), explicit language, swearing, mentions of blood, choking, cum (lmao), fluffy chan in the end.

All is consensual!! 

Word count: 889 words~

Requested: Yeee anon! thank u <33

Note: IF YALL REQUEST JUST PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT IT TAKES TIME TO WRITE. i cannot make this clearer. 

also the title has nothing to do with the fic i just had no title in mind hahshaha

“My sweet babygirl” Bangchan cooed, his veiny hand gripping a fistful of your hair as your tongue swirled around his crimson tip. Your knees against the cold floor were decorated with red marks and bruises from how long you had been sucking Bangchan off. You pull off to catch your breath, a string of saliva being the only thing that seperates his dick from your pretty swollen lips. 

Gently pulling on your hair you stand up, knees shaking as Bangchan pulls you into a kiss, his hard dick resting against his abdomen. The kiss was heated. Your wet tongues fought for dominance as your breasts pressed up against Bangchan’s well-sculpted chest. His hand roamed around your naked body, exploring the skin he had so many times before. You cupped his sharp jawline and tilted your head slightly as the kiss got sloppier, his lips feeling like the petals of a rose. He smirked into the kiss as he bit your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The brown eyed boy pulled away, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“You are so beautiful, baby” he whispered which earned him a shy gaze from you.

“I want you to m-make me feel...good” you shied away from his intense eye contact to which he smiled. 

“No need to tell me twice” he said softly before pushing you onto the bed and hovering above you. You gulped as you tensed up nervously.

“Shh...baby, it’s ok” he says while stroking your cheek as he alines himself with your wet entrance. His voice is calming, a feeling of safety takes over your mind. Slowly he slips inside of you, stretching out your pretty pink cunt. Your mouth opens at the feeling of being filled by his vast girth, feeling every vein dragging across your velvety walls. A broken moan escape your mouth but you quickly covered your mouth with your warm hands.

“Babygirl, I wanna hear you”, he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts to kiss the skin around your neck and collarbone. His hand grabs yours as he pushes it away from your mouth. 

“Does my dumb baby want to get fucked?” 

His demeanor changed which sent shivers down your spine. You nodded frantically to which he grinned, looking at you with those brown orbs. His hips bucked against yours gently, not wanting to hurt you. He was biting his lip, holding back the urge to fuck you into the mattress since you looked so ethereal on display for him. Your face had a red tint as you looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowed as the pace got quicker. You snaked your hand at the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss in a desperate attempt to silence your whiny moans. 

“Fuck y/n... such a tight baby for me” he said, breaking the kiss temporarily before latching onto your deep red lips yet again. You blush at his explicitness which was the complete opposite from his everyday speech but something about it made you even hornier. The snap of his personality made you swoon and Bangchan knew it by the way you were clenching around his dick everytime lewd words came out between his pink lips. 

“Does my pretty slut like that?” he growled against your lips, feeling his hot breathe against your face as his pace quickened making your legs feel like rubber. You could only moan in response but those moans bordered to high-pitched screams when Bangchan circled your swollen clit, adding to the immense pleasure. 

“Such a pretty bitch”. He lightly wrapped his hand around your bruised throat, his hickies decorating it from earlier. The aggression in his sweet nothings made your looming orgasm approach rapidly, the knot in your core tightening. Bangchan couldn’t hold back, the mixture of your sinful noises and the sound of skin slapping against eachother sending him into overdrive. The bed shook  and so did your boobs, the sensitive buds erected all thanks to Bangchan’s violent thrusting. The knot of nerve endings made the vortex in your stomach sink and as Bangchan’s thrusts became more forceful you feel yourself coming undone beneath him. Your eyes watered and you shut them tightly as you stuttered out your last incomprehensible moans. A loud groan erupted from Bangchan as he pulled out and released his load on your stomach. The white ribbons of hot liquid melted together with your sweaty body, chest heaving as the knot in your stomach exploded, filling you with a pleasant feeling. 

Bangchan layed down beside you, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead as he breathed heavily, looking up at the ceiling before turning his head towards you. You felt him observing your flush face and so you faced him. 

“I’m sorry” he snuggled closer to your naked body, the cum on your stomach hardening. 

“For what?” you said confused as your heart got fuzzy from the way he held you close in his arms.

“For being mean and hurting you” he mumbled in shame, looking up at with glossy eyes.

“Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong!” you exclaimed as you stroke his fluffy locks. He smiled at your response and hugged you tighter. 

“Come on princess, i’ll carry you to the shower” he tilted his head cutely and smiled. 

[cake-writes]

Earn It

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: filthy smut, ANAL (yes reader is 100% that bitch), kinda-sorta dubcon due to alcohol, praise kink, pain kink (yes reader is also 100% that bitch), safe word mention (not used), subtle D/s undertones, begging, degradation, count down, squirting, 18+

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: so you can blame my darlings @mandalorianspace​ and @buckybarnesplumwhore​​ for this one. THANKS A LOT. 💀 also I could not be fucked with the ending so lmao sorry but the smut is just more important here, okay???

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

You’re on your hands and knees in front of your boyfriend of two years, side of your face pressed into the sheets – and although you can’t see him, you can hear the roughness in his voice, feel his callused fingertips dig into the flesh of your ass as he spreads your cheeks apart. 

Despite how long you’ve been together, though, it’s unfamiliar.

“Bucky,” you gasp as his vibranium thumb smooths over your puckered hole. “Please fuck my ass, please—”

The tip of his thumb slides in, and you shiver.

“You’re so tight, honey,” Bucky warns, voice low, bordering on dangerous. “Sure you can handle it?”

You take his warning as a challenge, of course you do, but you don’t miss the slight note of concern in his tone. You’ve done anal before, just not with him because you’ve always been so intimidated by how thick he is. Even told him that once a long time ago. Funny story, that. 

Right now, however, you’re high on endorphins and drunk on too many shots of tequila to care.

“Yeah,” you respond breathily. “I need it. Baby, please.”

You’re eager, so much that you barely notice when he replaces his thumb with a finger until it sinks further inside than the former could ever reach. Just one finger leaves you gasping, never mind two as he stretches you open even more.

“Bucky,” you whine, wiggling your hips, impatient and needy. Two fingers isn’t nearly enough preparation considering how long it’s been since you had it last, but you want him. You want him so fucking badly, and he’s taking too long.

As if on cue, a third finger presses inside and you hiss at the burn. It’s a reminder that you shouldn’t rush, but you want it. You need it.

“Fuck me,” you plead, reaching back to spread your cheeks apart so he doesn’t have to. “If it won’t fit, then make it fit. I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

Bucky stops, three fingers buried knuckle-deep in your ass, to stare at you – not that you even notice, because you’re already so fucking gone for it. You do hear a hint of surprise in his voice when he asks after a too-long pause, slowly, teasingly pulling his fingers out, “What’s our safe word?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve done a scene, and you breathe, “Peaches.”

“Good girl.”

After a playful smack to your ass, Bucky releases you to retrieve the bottle of lube from your nightstand. You pull your head up off the sheets to peer back at him, heartbeat pounding in your ears as he pops open the bottle. 

There’s something about the way his skin seems to glow in the warm lamplight, or maybe it’s the way his hair falls so perfectly into that pretty face of his; or how, when his eyes meet yours, dark and teasing, you feel yourself get even wetter at his approach.

Anticipation.

The lube is cold and wet as it drips down the crack of your ass and onto the bed. Some small part of you is thankful that he had the foresight to lay down a towel, but the thought is quickly forgotten when he holds the tip of his cock against your hole. 

You think you’re ready. You’re beyond ready. 

It's slick, ridiculously so, the way the head pops in without a hitch – but it’s a beautiful stretch, one that stings just enough to make your legs quake. You bite down on your lower lip because it feels good, too. Too good. Too right.

A whimper escapes your throat when Bucky presses in further, because that’s when it starts to hurt a little bit more – but you don’t use your safe word, because maybe you want it to hurt. Or maybe you just want him balls-deep inside you so badly that you don’t care. Or maybe that’s the tequila talking. 

You assume he’s about halfway in when he withdraws almost all of the way to spread the slickness further. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I—”

Your affirmation is promptly cut off with a moan when he slides back inside, a little further than before, but that’s where he seems to get stuck. Not in the literal sense of the word, but your channel just can’t seem to take any more of him no matter how gently he tries to ease inside. You’re just too tight.

“Hurry, baby,” you whine. “Please.”

You’re already being stretched to the limit, and it burns in the best of ways, but you want him inside. You need it.

The warmth of his palm on your ass cheek is a balm as Bucky mutters to himself, “Make it fit, huh.”

And that’s when you know you’ve made a mistake, because he lets go of your hair to grab your hips – but before you can stammer out your concerns, he slams all the way inside, punching the breath from your lungs. You swear you actually see stars because it hurts, fuck, it hurts, but hell if you don’t love it all the same. You swear aloud, too; a string of filthy curses escapes your lips as your back arches, hands balling in the sheets below.

With Bucky so fully seated inside of your ass, you quickly realize that he couldn’t have been anywhere close to halfway before. He’s just too big, too thick, you’re not ready—

But no safe word. Not yet. It hurts too good.

His body cages yours in from behind, but all you can focus on is the searing stretch of his cock deep inside of you. He’s pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and whispering sweet nothings against your skin, perhaps meant to be a distraction, and it helps a little.

“Fuck me,” you rasp. Your pussy is drenched and he hasn’t even started moving yet. “Baby, please, I can’t—”

You can’t even think, let alone form a coherent sentence, but he understands just fine. His withdrawal is almost as bad as the entry – but that perfect pain twists and warps into some semblance of pleasure within your masochistic brain as he starts a slow, gentle rhythm, one that has your eyes rolling back.

“Look at you, honey,” Bucky whispers, one hand smoothing down your back, cool vibranium meant to soothe, “Taking every fucking inch.” His praise has your core clenching around nothing, but it makes your ass tighten up, too, makes him groan out, “Good girl. God, you’re so good for me.”

“Y–Yeah,” is all you can manage to respond with, because your mind is blissfully blank. 

There’s another pause as Bucky adds a little more lube, and then he’s pulling your arms back, dropping your face back onto the sheets – but that’s fine by you because you’re practically drooling anyway, and when he picks up the pace, you actually do drool. He stops being gentle because he knows you can take it, knows you’ll use your safe word if you have to, and the feeling of him pounding your poor abused ass into oblivion only sends you higher.

Mindless babbles and pleas leave your mouth on an endless loop; you don’t know what you’re even saying anymore, other than yes, yes, yes. Your knees slide further apart from his onslaught, which changes the angle just enough for him to slam into your sweet spot.

“I’m— Bucky, I’m gonna—”

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to implode, ready for him to put you out of your misery.

“Not yet,” he orders. “Wait for me.”

The sheer command in his voice makes you clench up again, because it’s near-impossible to stave off the inevitable. The pain’s given way to pure, unbridled pleasure at this point, and it teases your undoing, makes you so fucking desperate to come that tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s adrenaline. It’s delirium. Your voice goes hoarse begging him to fill you up, to give it to you, to let you come, please, baby, please—

“Oh, honey,” Bucky coos, tone patronizing, smoothing your hair from your face. “You wanna come so bad, don’t you?”

“Please let me come,” you beg, not even caring anymore what a state you must look: face hot, flushed, tears staining your cheeks, saliva smeared down your chin and on the sheets. “Please, please, please—”

Each ‘please’ is punctuated with another slam of his hips until two of his fingers are in your mouth, digging into your cheek, stifling any further pleas; not that you don’t continue to try. Muffled, incomprehensible moans are all that come out.

“Too bad. You’ve gotta earn it.”

That’s when he finally lets go and buries his hand in your hair instead, to push and pull you as he pleases, use you however he likes.

“So fucking desperate—” Bucky slaps your ass hard with his vibranium hand and you jerk in surprise – not that you mind, because it feels so fucking good. “Had to shove it in ‘cause you’re such a needy little slut, isn’t that right, honey? So now you’re gonna take it, just like you asked for.”

As if it’s not hard enough to hold back, now he wants to talk to you like that?

“Bucky, please—” You’re sobbing with desperation as he pulls your hair back by the roots. “Please, I can’t, I can’t—”

You’re like a broken record, but you’re pretty sure it’s your brain that’s broken because you just can’t comprehend anything anymore. You feel like you’re floating, almost, ready to combust but you’re just not allowed to, yet.

“I’m gonna count down,” Bucky tells you, voice strained, and you know then that he must be close. “Three.”

Vibranium fingertips dig into your hipbone, hard enough to leave bruises, and he uses the tighter grip to pull you back harder onto his cock.

“Two.”

Sloppy wet sounds echo through the room as he slams into you with a more frenzied, albeit uneven pace.

“One.”

And then he angles his hips just so, aiming for your sweet spot once again which he successfully hits, over and over and over until finally, finally—

“Let go. Let me feel you.”

In an instant, your body tenses up like a live wire as you reach your peak with a strangled cry, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids in what’s probably one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. He’s never made you hold out for so long, never made you beg this much before, but it’s certainly done something for you if the sudden gush of wetness between your legs is any indication.

“Christ, sweetheart—”

Bucky shoves in as far as he can go, and you feel a sudden burst of warmth deep inside as he fills up your ass just like you begged for. Aftershocks have your body spasming as his cock pulses inside of you, once, twice, three times, four—

And then his grip goes lax, on both your hair and your hip, and your scalp aches painfully but not nearly as much as your backside. It stings and burns as he slowly pulls out, gently massaging your lower back as he does: another welcome distraction.

The head of his dick slips out with a distinct pop, and you whimper. If it’s because of the loss or because of the pain, you’re not sure but either way you’re definitely going to feel it in the morning.

Pulling some wet wipes from your bedside table, Bucky attempts to carefully clean you up, but you’re already so sore so you take it from him and do it yourself.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, continuing to rub your back. “Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

You give him a dopey smile. “Yeah. But it was worth it.”

Bucky snorts. “Sometimes I think you like the pain a little too much.”

Then he presses a kiss to your forehead, to which you let out a sleepy hum of approval. You love his aftercare, you really do, but today a cuddle is more than enough. The two of you lay together on the bed as he strokes your hair, and when you fall asleep, Bucky thinks to himself, well, you definitely earned it.

[cleumz-moved]

how genshin characters would deal with stubbing their toe >:( (with various characters, i might do more later if ya want me too!)

hey! this has swearing in it! watch out if ya dont like that! also, this isnt serious, like at all lol

would let loose an incomprehensible string of profanity -

venti, xinyan, diona, hu tao, childe (but only when hes not around kids and stuff), scaramouche, beidou, kazuha (he picked it up from the crux lol)

swears really loudly, like 'SHIT!' and goes back to their day -

sayu (everyone would turn, and she would go take a nap), xingqiu, lisa, klee (she learned from kaeya, doesnt know its a curse word lol)

lets out a painful hiss and hops around -

jean, bennett, sucrose

says 'dang it!' or whatever, doesnt curse for some reason -

barbara, sucrose

cant feel pain -

qiqi, albedo

[scripturiends]

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Read on ao3

Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.

In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.

Rating: T

Word count: 3,848

Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”

~

As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.

I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!

The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.

~

I.

Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.

She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.

She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.

Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.

Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.

Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.

Han Joonhwi was calling again.

She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”

Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”

A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”

Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”

“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.

That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.

She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.

“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”

Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.

If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.

But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”

The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.

“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”

Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”

She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”

This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”

He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”

Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.

Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.

II.

“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”

They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.

She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”

Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”

“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”

Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.

She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.

Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” her friend challenges.

“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.

“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.

This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.

Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”

What does that mean?

“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.

She’s not going to ask him, is she?

Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”

Wait.

“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”

“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.

“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.

While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.

“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.

Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”

Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?

Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”

“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”

Knew it.

“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.

Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”

And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.

Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”

III.

A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.

They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.

So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.

Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.

During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”

No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.

She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.

But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.

And she was there with Han Joonhwi.

She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.

She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?

And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.

It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.

Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.

IV.

Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.

The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.

But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.

He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”

Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.

“M-me?” she stuttered.

The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.

He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.

She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.

Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”

Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”

He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”

Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.

Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.

Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.

“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”

Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”

A step forward.

“Just do it.”

A step back.

“Goddamn it.”

One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.

His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.

“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”

He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”

Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”

V.

Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.

“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”

The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.

She hated that.

She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”

The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”

An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.

“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.

Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.

He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”

If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”

“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”

Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.

Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”

Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”

Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”

He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too nosy.”

“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”

“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”

She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”

She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”

His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”

“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”

“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.

“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”

Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.

“...just not B. You like-”

“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.

She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.

A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.

They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.

Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.

Epilogue

Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.

He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.

Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.

Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”

Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.

Han Joonhwi,

For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.

I like you back, you idiot.

Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.

Idiot.

~

Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!

[youngster-monster]

Whumptober day 17 -

[ hemorrhage | dread ]

The Eliksni bleed. 

Sam’s never thought about it too much but it makes sense, in theory. bug-like as they may seem, and despite the wispy cloud of ether left in the wake of their death, they’re closer to humans than most will give them credit for. 

He sure wishes he could have made this discovery any other way.

Swearing under his breath, he tries to hoist Mithrax’s weight more comfortably across his shoulders. The words are lost in the chaos of gunfire and stomping Vex steps, but it’s fine. The meaning doesn’t matter as much as the feeling of them, and he’s feeling pretty fucking pissed. and does his best to. 

The Kell has a good two feet on him, at least, and at least two limbs more than Sam is comfortable working with. Dragging him around would be an exercise in frustration in any other situation. Under fire, it’s nerve racking. He should be terrified. He might be. But being scared has never helped anybody, so Sam grits his teeth and takes another stumbling step and makes himself be angry instead.

Fuck the Vex, and fuck Lakshmi for bringing them to their doorstep, and fuck Mithrax for being dumb enough to take a hit meant for one of his people instead of using that splicer brain of his and staying still. Sam can carry a vandal. He’s done it before. A seven-and-a-half feet tall Kell is notably harder to throw across his shoulders, he’s found, and they’re still getting shot at.

He can hear the tell-tale bang, bang, bang of a shotgun, sometimes followed by a war cry made incomprehensible by distance and noise. He keeps an ear on it nonetheless. Saint-14 is his compass here; if they can make it to him, they’ll be safe. 

The Titan can drop them a bubble, keep the Vex at bay long enough for Sam to find a way to stop Mithrax’s bleeding, do something, anything. 

But first they have to make it. And Saint sounds very, very far.

Each movement makes Sam’s coat rub against his skin, the wet fabric uncomfortable against his skin, unbearably cold. He tries to keep his mind off the calculus that runs in his mind, unbidden. How much blood has Mithrax lost for the fabric to feel this drenched? This is a damn thick coat—

Eyes on the prize, he reminds himself, biting the inside of his cheek and tightening his hold on the arm he’s got thrown over his shoulders. Either Mithrax will survive or he won’t. Best Sam can do for now is find a way to help, not twist himself into a knot thinking of all the ways it could go wrong.

As long as Mithrax is breathing, there’s hope. And he’s breathing. It’s a horrible kind of death rattle, wheezing through whatever passes for lungs inside an Eliksni, but he’s breathing, and his feet drag on the ground but at least he can carry some of his weight. All things considered, he could be worse off.

Sam’s not sure how, but— he could be.

Leaning his shoulder against a wall, Sam drags in a great gulp of air in an attempt to appease the burn in his own lungs and casts Mithrax a look out of the corner of his eye. The Eliksni is unreadable through his helmet, but he has a firm grip on his rifle despite everything. No matter what, Mithrax isn’t going down without a fight.

Good. Neither is Sam.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Mithrax makes a series of clicks that Sam’s untrained ear can’t hope to parce. He suspects it’s downright foul language, though, going by the tone.

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” he says, too out of breath to sound properly wry.

Stringing words together through the pain, Mithrax grits out, “I’m still alive.”

“You better be. I’m not dragging your corpse all the way to Saint.” Sam squeezes Mithrax’s side where he’s got his arm curled around the Eliksni’s midsection, offsetting his callous words somewhat. “That’s an alive-Mithrax-only privilege.”

Mithrax chokes out something that nearly sounds like laughter.

He wishes he had a way to contact the people they sent ahead and ask one of them to circle back for help. Hell, they could chuck a canister of ether their way from across the Eliksni quarters. Light knows the place is open enough for it. If they can get shot at so easily, surely someone could make them a high pass.

The Vex’s very presence scrambles regular radio waves, though: nothing short of a Ghost-powered com will get through. They’re all but cut off.

There’s always a part of Sam mourning Sasha’s absence, but never this acutely — not in half a decade.

Everything would be fine if she was there.

Unfortunately, she’s not.

All he has is himself and his own two damn legs. Plus Mithrax’s, give or take.

“I’m glad Edo was not there,” the Eliksni rumbles unexpectedly. 

It sounds suspiciously like a death bed, last breath, I’m-going-to-die-but-here’s-a-silver-lining kind of sentence to spew out of nowhere.

“So am I. I’d hate for my first time seeing her to be while I’m hauling your roadkill-looking ass around.” Grunting, Sam pushes away from the wall. The Vex are still a little way off — whatever’s taking their attention, he hopes it holds. “Come on, we’re nearly there.”

They’re going to make it. They have to.