#why didn’t anyone tell me I spelled that tag wrong

[natalievoncatte]

Lena barely had time to process what was happening. Lena-938’s ship jumped into the air above Themyscira with a resounding, thunderous roar of displaced air. It was half as long as a football field and covered in antennas and radials crackling with strange energy that seemed to bend the air around it.

Kara was carrying the cyborg in her arms, her limp body curled against her. She suddenly seemed small and delicate, her silvery mechanical limbs like the delicate wings of a baby bird. Kara rushed up into the ship without a second thought with a pair of Lenas flanking her and 938 coming up bring them.

Lena had a brief moment of almost painful disorientation when she saw dozens of herself crowding around, all of them wearing numbered name tags. As much as it was like walking into the strange world of a funhouse mirror, there was shocking variety. There was a Lena with a jagged scar down one side of her face and a pale milky eye. Lenas with red hair, blonde, a few were even bald. She saw one, deathly pale, who seemed to have fangs.

They all made way for one among their number, wearing an elaborate costume of blue robes and bangles and jewelry and a high collared red cloak that billowed out behind her as she walked. Around her neck she wore a gaudy gleaming amulet on a rose gold chain… and a plain nylon lanyard with a name tag, 1610.

As she approached she halted Kara with a gesture, and waved a light-wreathed hand over the cyborg’s body.

“Her soul is still clinging to life. Hook her up to the life support systems, immediately.

Lena was swept up in the press of bodies, all of them her, that brought the cyborg to rest on an exam table.

“I built her,” the elder Lena said. “Follow my instructions.”

Lena helped. Her counterpart found hidden catches and removed the cyborg’s jaw and opened panels on her sides, and soon she was hooked up to an array of monitors, steadily blinking away and recording her brain waves.

Lena looked at her with older self, who stared back grimly.

“Your modifications bought her time, but she’s dying. She’s simply sustained too much damage and the Kryptonite poisoned what was left of her. It was only ever meant to be temporary.”

“I understand,” said Lena. “I… we can help.”

Tears welled in the elders eyes and Lena recognized her own expression of anguish, her lips pulled into a frown as her voice grew raw and throaty.

“I did this. It’s my fault. I was so selfish… I couldn’t let her go first, I can’t go without her.”

“You don’t have to,” said 938. “There’s another way. We can transfer her mind and soul into another body.”

Lena looked at her sharply.

“What other body?”

938 swallowed, hard. “We have… a spare.”

“You have a spare Kara?” Lena said, incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

1610 folded her arms and looked at Lena levelly. “She’s been mindwiped.”

“What?” the elder Lena demanded. “Why? How? By who?”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the small sick bay. Kara, standing by the broken form of her half mechanical doppleganger, scowled but said nothing.

“Well?” said the Elder Lena. “Explain. Tell me how you have a spare Kara.”

Lena-938 licked her lips.

“On her Earth she was a tyrant. Her Lena was killed by Morgan Edge. He poisoned her with cyanide.”

Lena and Kara looked at her sharply.

938 said, “When her Lena died, it was her brother that approached this Kara, told her he wanted to bury the hatchet and avenge his sister. On this Earth, Kara’s cousin never arrived from Krypton and she was alone, and this Lex wasn’t a mortal enemy. He groomed her into a dictator, a puppet for him to rule through.”

“So what,” Kara snapped. “You invaded her world and mindwiped her? You didn’t give her a chance, try to help her?”

Lena was surprised, and slightly alarmed, at the force in her voice. The Elder Lena looked on approvingly, a sad smile briefly ghosting her lips.

“No,” said 1610. “She invaded another world. She’d already killed her Lex and used her Lena’s research to discover portals.”

“Of course,” said 938, “it was everyone’s misfortune that the first world she found was missing its Lena. On that Earth, Kara was Kryptonian but never became Supergirl, as Clark and Lex remained friends and founded the Justice League together and she was never called on to save Alex’s plane. That Kara had never even met her Lena. She never left Ireland.”

“Then why was she missing?”

“There are a lot of Lillians out there. This one wanted to punish her husband’s bastard and Lex didn’t know that she existed until Lillian had her drowned.”

“Jesus,” Lena whispered.

“We had no choice,” said 1610. “By the time we intervened that world’s Kara was dead and the evil Kara had invaded their timeline with an army of Kryptonian robots. Our mission demanded that we stop her, and she was simply too powerful. I did it. I erased her mind and left her an empty shell. There was no other way.”

Lena expected Kara to say something sharp, but her elder self said, “there is always another way. Kara taught me that. There has to have been something you could have done.”

“She is would have kept going. Conquered more timelines, done horrible things,” said 938. “You don’t understand the severity of our mission. The multiverse is sick and if its health isn’t maintained, entire branches, millions of universes, cease to exist. Everything that makes them unique is erased.”

“Why?” said Lena.

“Fifty two years ago, sidereal time, something happened in one of the universes, one a lot like mine,” said 938. “Another metahuman with a power profile like mine lost the woman he loved, and it… broke something. It created a sympathetic cascade that damaged the multiverse in a fundamental way, like a blight spreading through a tree. It set something free in the spaces between the spaces we know.”

“It is in our house now,” said 1610.

“I don’t care about any of this,” said the elder Lena, standing over the cyborg Kara. “It doesn’t matter. My Kara, my darling, would never agree to this and I make this choice for her. She would rather I let her go than do something like this.”

“There’s no one left in that body to harm,” said 1610. “It is an empty shell, and even if she did somehow return she’d having nothing to go back to. Her world is wrecked and she almost destroyed another and we couldn’t simply set her free with the knowledge to open more portals and do more damage. This is the best solution for everyone- including you and your Kara.”

The elder suddenly looked confused. She turned to Lena.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do. Is she right? If we do this am I murdering another Kara to save mine or am I just solving a problem?”

No one spoke.

Kara broke the silence as she caressed the back of her hand down the cold cheek of her cyborg duplicate.

“There is another way.”

“There is no other way,” said 938. “Your cyborg counterpart will die if we don’t do this.”

Kara looked at Lena.

“We don’t need to use another Kara’s body. We can make one of our own. It happened before, we just have to repeat the same circumstances in a controlled environment.”

“Kara, are you talking about making another Harun-El clone of yourself?” said Lena.

Elder Lena, 1610, and 938 all spoke at once.

“A what?”

“Harun-El?”

“Clone?”

[mullermilkshake]

Two wrongs can make a right

Part 9 <- Part 10 -> Part 11

You're pissed... like really pissed.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - NSFW, pregnant reader, manipulation, Smut, p in v sex, vaginal sex, quickie, creampie, unprotected sex

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

“I can’t believe you, Jinwoo. I wanted to break it to her easily- why did you tell her like that?”

There was an easy explanation for this, and it wasn’t the truth. “She was going to find out through someone else, wouldn’t you rather we tell her and not beat around the bush?”

“You know how she feels about you, what you did wasn’t compassion, it was like you were rubbing it in her face.”

Because it was exactly that.

“It’s not the case at all, I just thought it was best to rip the band aid off. You and me are having these babies, and she’ll have to get used to it. But skirting around the subject won’t help any one.”

“Why do I not believe that?” You were more than just angry, you were furious. Even your foot tapped impatiently at him. “It just felt so nasty how you did-“ 

You stopped abruptly, hand straight to your mouth with all the paleness in your face. “How you did that, it’s-“ You tried again and failed, placing your hand over your stomach.

And then your ability triggered Eye’s handmaiden. It appeared in the corner, standing as it always did, arms out ready for spell casting. It fed you a spell with its aura, calming you down so that now you were standing straight.

“What is it?” He asked, rushing over to your side. “Is it the babies?”

“N-no…” You watched Eye’s handmaiden closely. “I just felt sick, I… I don’t anymore.”

Could it be the morning sickness the doctor and Hae-in talked about? “You’re getting morning sickness? That’s what it is.”

You wanted to say something but stopped yourself, shaking your head quicker than Jinwoo liked and pressed your hand flat to his chest to make space. “That doesn’t matter, I’m still pissed off at you. Don’t go pulling that again, because I don’t want drama. I’m stressed enough as it is, me and Hae-in both are.”

Jinwoo pushed back against you to get closer, he took you by the shoulders. “I’m not trying to stress anyone out, especially not you.”

“Then why did you do that?” You didn’t resist his touch.

He wanted to come clean, he really did. But telling you he loved you wasn’t the right time. He had an idea now of when he’d tell you and today wasn’t it.

“You’re having twins. Half of them are me, and half of them are you. Maybe I got a little excited now that it’s settling in, we finally did it, I got you pregnant when for a time, I wasn’t sure that I could. I kind of want to shout it from the rooftops and show the Chairman that he did wrong trying to rush us, it only hindered things.”

You seemed to buy it for now, your expression though, not so much. “So, you’re telling me that you’re not freaking out about this, that you’re excited?”

“Uh…” Jinwoo rubbed the back of his neck with the sudden realisation that you must have been ready to slap him. “Well… I dunno, I just-“

You didn’t slap him, you didn’t scowl or grit your teeth, or just throw harsh language and scold him for it. No, you kissed him. Everything stopped, Jinwoo threw out everything from the air, anything unquestioned and hidden from your view so that he left nothing between you.

He pulled you into him, feeling his way over your waist and let your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers scrunching into his hair with a tug that sent him off. Jinwoo wanted you right here, right now, and pull everything from your bottom half and fuck you senseless over the bed and any other hard surface in the room.

But, he had two babies to think of now, and it wasn’t an option to be rough with you, not for a long while.

Would you even want to have sex, or was it the hormones just getting you hot and bothered? Because the way you kept yourself pressed against him gave him mixed signals. You were pissed off at him, yet grabbing onto any part of his body you could.

“The doctor said we can still have sex, right? I forgot.” You pulled away and slipped off your pretty red shirt, leaving your perfect breasts tucked away in your bra.

You still wanted to have sex even though you weren’t obligated to do so now that you were pregnant. That had to mean something. But it also begged the question of how much information you actually took from the doctor. It was one of the first things she spoke about. You could still have sex though with caution, because there were two babies and possible complications later down the line. 

So Jinwoo had to be careful.

For now, he’d have to restrain himself until the babies were born. Simple enough despite his urges and yours, clearly. You were all over him, pawing at his shirt right over his head and stealing little nips down his chest where you could reach. All the signs told him you wanted it, and wanted it bad.

He stopped you right there, making a gap you fought with until you realised, your eyes wider than they should have been. “What- oh shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright, I want it too- we just need to be careful, because of the babies. But… if you still want to then-“

You did, you kissed him quick and held him near. Jinwoo took the initiative and lifted you up in his arms so that your legs wrapped around his waist. Any hard surface would do. Anything. No bed, no softness, just upright. He took you straight to the end-suite bathroom, holding you firm under your ass and swiping the products from the counter so that they clattered and cracked on the tile floor.

“Fuck me Jinwoo- I need it right now or I’ll burst.”

Pleading always got his cock hard and twitching. He grabbed at your remaining clothes and pulled your underwear off, pulling his pants down just below his ass and gripping his thighs for dear life. Jinwoo spat in his hand and ran the wet right to the base of his cock to make it glisten, ready and aching to get inside you. It had already done its job in knocking you up, but his leaking tip wanted more. It wanted to fill you up every day for the rest of Jinwoo’s life.

“Jinwoo.” Your sternness caught him off guard. “If you don’t put your cock inside me right now, you can finish yourself off.”

The doctor warned him about this, mood swings and sudden changes in scenarios he never took much notice of, until now. He couldn’t ram his cock inside you like you clearly wanted, he held himself back and slipped himself inside your dripping pussy as cautiously as he could. You still let out an aroused gasp and adjusted yourself on the counter, wrapping your legs around and gripped his ass towards you.

“The doctor said we have to be cautious, pulling me like that isn’t cautious-“

But the way you bit his bottom lip drove him insane, the way you watched him with hungry eyes sent him wild.

“You’re driving me crazy, you want to be cautious all the time for nine months?”

No, of course not. 

And hearing such forward words drove him to go against his better judgement, though he never bit, regrettably.

“It’s what we need to do to make sure the babies are safe-“

“Please don’t talk about the babies right now while your balls deep, Jinwoo.” You had a point.

He wanted to say something, or agree with you that bringing up anything other than how good your pussy felt clenching around him. Nothing came out, it wasn’t justified when he did the opposite and slipped his tongue in your mouth. You responded in kind and kissed him back, more feverishly as though you were his lover that reciprocated and told him so everyday. You were yet to say it, Jinwoo knew eventually that you would admit it and give yourself to him.

For now, you accepted his cock with open arms and let him thrust you with some precision, yet tender loving care. Jinwoo wanted to please you in every way that you wanted, his compulsions also wanted you safe.

Still, for now, his urges got one up on the priority list. Only a fraction. A minute molecule.

But it still won.

He fucked into you, lacking his fingers with yours and nipping up your neck in what was possibly the most sensual experience of his life to date. You were constantly topping each new moment just by being you.

And only you.

He loved you.

He really loved you.

I love her. I love her. I love her. 

Each time his hips went flush against the plush of your thighs, he repeated that mantra in his mind, over and over. One day he’d say it out loud and one day you’d say it back. And when he came inside you much earlier than he wanted to, those three words almost slipped out. But what did, came as more of a surprise to Jinwoo than you it seemed.

“I think it’s time you meet my mom and sister."

Part 9 <- Part 10 -> Part 11

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[millieisawriter]

The spell (Javier's version)

first ending - javier escuella x reader

summary: the one where javier comes to terms with the fact he caught feelings for you, and the two of you learnt to love each other despite your differences.

first part

wc: 2.6k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡the people have asked for a second part♡

a/n: i don't usually tag people on my fics, but this time i did tag everyone who commented under the first part <3 ily

It had been a few weeks since that night in Javier’s tent. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, not even to the girl who became a friend to you – Mary-Beth. Despite that, the whole gang must have known about what had happened between you and Javier.

Why? Well, it was difficult not to notice the sudden shift in your interactions with Javier, or the lack of these. Normally, there wasn’t a day the two of you didn’t exchange a few angry sentences. Ever since the tent incident, however, you didn’t acknowledge one another’s existence.

“You’ve got to tell me what happened!” Mary-Beth insisted.

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing to talk about, not even to your best friend. What Javier had done felt embarrassing enough, you didn’t need anyone else knowing about it.

You had just sat down to fix your pendulum when the girl approached you. The chain, to which a crystal had been attached, worn from years of usage from even before you had acquired it, finally gave out and broke a few days ago. “There’s nothing to tell,” you stated.

“Don’t lie to your best friend,” she insisted, and you know she wasn’t going to let go of the topic when she sat down on the chair next to you. “Your… necklace broke?”

“It’s called a pendulum,” you explained, still focused on fixing the chain, “I use it for simple yes or no questions. But, yes, the chain broke a few days ago.”

“So, back to the previous thing,” Mary-Beth returned to the topic of Javier, “what happened? First you two couldn’t go five minutes without snapping at each other. Now? Not even a glance. You could at least tell me if you hexed him or something.”

You finally look at your friend, leaving the pendulum on the table. “If I had hexed him, he deserved it,” you scoffed.

The girl’s eyes widened. “Did you?”

“No, Mary-Beth. I didn’t hex him. But if I had, it would have been well-deserved is what I meant.”

“Then what? Whenever he’s not out on a job, he strolls around the camp all depressed like those funny english dogs.”

“The bulldogs?”

“Exactly!”

You laughed at the comparison. Mary-Beth wasn’t wrong, though, you noticed the change in Javier’s behavior as well. He became less visible around the camp, unless he was playing his guitar. And even then, as much as you didn’t know spanish, you could tell the songs he sang were rather sad.

However, Mary-Beth wasn’t going to let go easily. “Why are you keeping secrets from your best friend?”

“Fine,” you sighed, knowing there’s no backing away from this, “something might have happened between us.”

“Something? Like what? That’s a very vague answer.”

The embarrassment physically hurt you when you thought about that specific night. “You remember the night a few weeks ago? Dutch’s gramophone played, everyone was drunk, all that…” you paused, fiddling with your fingers underneath the table, “we may have ended up in Javier’s tent.”

Her jaw dropped, and she immediately slapped your arm. “No! You’re kidding! You and Javier? I knew something was going on! Oh my God. Was it good? It was good, wasn’t it?”

“That’s not the point!”

“What is the point then?”

The point was that what happened the following morning, hurt you. Even if you never showed it, it pained you to know Javier considered his desire towards you a sin heavier than the blood that stained his hands. And just like the blood, though washed off, left a scar on his conscience, the same way his prayer didn’t make his feelings disappear.

“Next morning I woke up to Javier praying. For forgiveness. For… me,” maybe for the first time you let the hurt show through your voice as you made the confession to your friend.

Mary-Beth couldn’t believe that. She heard Javier bickering with Swanson here and there, but she never took the Mexican for someone religious to that degree. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” you sighed, “I felt like… like I wasn’t even a person to him. Just… something dirty he had to wash away. But, of course, God doesn’t care about him being a damn criminal.”

“How could he do that to you? Have you talked to him since?”

“No. I figured everything between us is done. Anything that could ever be.”

Javier made it clear enough. To him, you were a mistake. A moment of weakness at most, and you didn’t hope for more. Getting over him would be preferred, but you couldn’t help that he happened to dig a hole in your heart.

And you were left wondering – was God going to forgive Javier for how he had treated you? Or was God okay with one of his sheep taking advantage of another human being like that? God didn’t seem to care about that, so maybe you really were the Devil, after all.

Your emotions clearly affected Mary-Beth. “You can’t let him get away with that,” she stated.

“You’re a romantic, I get it,” you replied with a tone sharper than you intended, “but he and I were never meant to be. We’re too different.”

“You don’t believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t be so heartbroken right now.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. He made his choice, and I’m not going to beg him to change his mind.”

Last thing you ever imagined to do was begging a man to love you. Not even last, you’d die before you do such thing.

Suddenly, both you and Mary-Beth shifted your gaze to a figure riding into the camp. It was Javier, returning from whatever business he was attending to. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been on a visit to the nearby town’s brothel.

Your eyes held a slightly longing look as you watched the man dismount from Boaz, a look that stopped only after Mary-Beth had nudged your arm. “Completely not heartbroken, huh?” she teased.

You looked away, and tried to argue, but before you could come up with a good response, you heard the leaves on the ground being rustled by approaching footsteps.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mary-Beth, with a knowing smirk on her lips, stood up.

“Don’t you dare,” the sentence came out like a threat from your mouth. You attempted to grab her arm, even yank the girl back onto her seat if you had to, but her slim arm easily slipped out of your hand.

A moment later, Javier stood in front of you. “I wanted to talk.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” you insisted, standing up so that you were on at least similar level.

“We do.”

“What, you wanna talk about how I ruined your soul?”

Javier flinched slightly at your hiss, but then looked back at you. “I’ve got something for you,” his hand went into the pocket of his jeans.

You wondered what it could be. If you had been accused of being a vampire, he could’ve brought you garlic, or a wooden spike. But how could one kill a witch in a way other than burning her at a stake? He wouldn’t even need a stake for that, you had burnt long ago from the embarrassment.

The thing you could have never expected was now dangling from Javier’s hand as he extended it towards you. “I noticed the one you used to use broke some time ago,” he said.

Your mouth fell open, but no words were conjured. Javier getting a new pendulum for you was not something even your cards could predict.

You stared at the pendulum, the delicate chain shimmering faintly in the sunlight. A teardrop-shaped crystal hung from the chain, catching the light and scattering fractured rays across your skin as you took it in your hand. It was beautiful, far more elegant than the one you had broken.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, an idea in your mind. “Did you steal it?”

Javier shifted in spot. “I saw this woman, she travels in a wagon similar to yours. Madam Nazar, or whatever she introduced herself as. I wouldn’t dare steal from her, she’s a bit scary,” he chuckled lightly. “Don’t ask me where I got the money, though.”

Your eyes finally met his when you finished checking out the crystal. “Why did you get this for me?”

“Because I was wrong—”

“You were more than wrong, Javier.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I shouldn’t have made you feel the way I did. I thought… pushing you away would make it easier. That I could forget how you made me feel, or that I’d stop wanting you if I could convince myself it was wrong.”

“And?”

“And I couldn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you eyed the pendulum again. It wasn’t hard to recognize the crystal as clear quartz. Possibly the best one for a pendulum, clear quartz was known for providing clarity and amplifying energy.

“I’m sorry,” Javier continued, “I can’t change what I did, but I can tell you I never meant to hurt you. You’re… you’re everything I can’t stop thinking about, and I hate that I let my fear ruin what we could have had.”

The words cut through your ears. You closed your palm around the crystal and looked at Javier again. For the first time he finally looked vulnerable. As if the regret he seemed to feel was honest. For the first time, he didn’t build up any walls between the two of you.

“You can’t just walk back in here with a gift and expect me to forget how you made me feel.”

“I don’t expect you to forget,” he said. “But I hope you can forgive me. There’s something between us, and maybe it’s not a spell you casted on me.”

“I’m glad you finally see that.”

Javier sighed. “Let me prove to you that I’m serious. About you, about us, about your… magic, too. And that I don’t think you’re sinful.”

You had no idea what got into Javier, and it certainly wasn’t your doing, but he had changed. In the following weeks, he grew more interested in your beliefs, in your practices. Often he sat and listened intently as you explained tarot to him, or when you taught him about the pendulum.

One night, sitting by the fire next to Javier, you shuffled your cards. “Pick a card, Javier,” you said, spreading the deck on the cow skin rug.

The man’s eyes brushed over the cards as he hesitated. The deck was, obviously, facing the side with pictures down, so that he had to use his intuition. He had almost taken one card, when you smacked his hand away.

You lectured him. “Just point at it, don’t actually grab it!”

“Why not?” he asked, both amused and confused.

“Only I can touch my cards, it’s one of the rules.”

“What happens if I touch them?”

He was curious, which was good. Curious was way better than hateful, scared, or ashamed. The way Javier evolved, and warmed up to your witchy practices made you happy. You could now see that maybe there was a chance for your relationship to grow.

“Nothing, but that’s the rule. You love breaking rules, don’t you?”

He was persistent. “Would I die a painful death?”

Once again he attempted to touch the cards. Once again, you slapped his hand away.

“Stop acting like a child,” you were ready to collect your cards and put them back in the safety of your bag, “you changed, and I like it, but I don’t wanna have to cleanse my cards again, I’m almost out of white sage.”

“I’ll buy you some more, what’s the issue? How expensive can it be?”

“You’d have to go all the way to California, and have something to give in exchange to the Indians there. They don’t need money.”

“You’re more complicated than I thought,” he sighed, but it was playful this time.

“So don’t touch the cards! Tell me which one you choose.”

Javier’s gaze returned to the deck spread in front of him. He thought for a moment before pointing to one card, even though on the backside all of them looked identical.

“Great, let’s see,” you mused, taking the card and studying it before turning it to Javier. “Death.”

He scoffed. “That’s optimistic.”

“Don’t take the meaning literally. This card represents change.”

Javier tilted his head. “I think I know what’s changing.”

“Oh?”

“Me.”

He reached out, his hand gently brushing your face. His gaze traveled down from your eyes to your lips, and you knew what it meant. No sooner, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle as if he were scared to hurt you.

You let him guide you through the kiss as it became more. More in both, the touchable and spiritual meaning. Your hands found their way to his jaw and neck, meanwhile he grabbed onto your hips. This allowed him to confidently move you from where you were sitting next to him, to make you straddle his lap. Almost instinctively, you grind your hips against his, sending a clear message to the neurons in his brain.

Javier groaned into the kiss, and you could feel his grip tighten on both sides of your body. This time, you could tell, it wasn’t solely desire between you. And neither one of you was on alcohol. This time it was real, a real raw emotion, and the peak of everything between you. Your connection, your need for each other, your past tensions, and your current longing. All of these exploded between the two of you in that exact moment.

The moment was interrupted, of course. “I’m glad to see y’all making up,” Arthur cleared his throat, “but could y’all not fuck on display for the whole gang to see?”

You practically leaped off Javier’s lap, your face burning hotter than the campfire. “Arthur!” you hissed.

Javier, however, didn’t seem nearly as bothered. He smirked up at Arthur with the kind of cocky confidence that made you want to smack him. And kiss him again.

“Jealousy isn’t pretty on you,” Javier joked.

“Don’t have to be pretty,” Arthur shot back, “just don’t wanna see y’all exchanging spit like two horny teenagers.”

You knew Arthur was just joking, there was no real bite in his voice. He was secretly glad to see the two of you getting along. But that also doesn’t mean that being called out like that didn’t get you all shy and blushing.

You stood up. “Javier, let’s take this to my wagon.”

“Our wagon you mean,” he said, following you.

“Yes, our wagon,” you rolled your eyes.

Truth be told, the wagon had undergone a transformation since Javier started spending more time with you. More time, as in he was practically living there with you. As you walked in, on your left Javier’s rosary was hung on the wall. The beads were darkened with use, and the small brass crucifix blended nicely with a bundle of sage and sweetgrass that hung next to it.

The shelves along the wagon’s interior were equally divided. On one side, you organized your herbs, dried plants, and jars filled with ingredients only you could name. On the other side, Javier had placed the wooden icon of the Virgin Mary, her peaceful gaze watching over everything, just like she had watched you that one night which changed everything. Except, this time you didn’t feel judged.

You smiled to yourself. The clash between the sacred and the mystical was oddly fitting.

___________________________

people that seemed interested in a second part:

@zenyattaiscute @warmsideofthepillow03 @sockisanidot @esquilone @yolky555 @veronika272

[girlkisser13]

this is me trying

"i just wanted you to know" "that this is me trying"

a/n: anyone else an older sibling? 🙋🏻‍♀️ anyways, here’s a fic for connie baby. <33

pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings/tags: mostly angst. mention of a panic attack.

summary: you help your ex-boyfriend through a panic attack.

the fourth of july celebrations were in full swing at the fisher’s summer house. fireworks painted the sky in vibrant hues, and laughter echoed through the beach air. conrad, however, was far from the festivities, staring blankly at the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

you stood with your family near the bonfire. you had spent every summer with the fishers for as long as you could remember, and despite your breakup with the oldest fisher brother, your family's visit remained a tradition. you noticed conrad's absence and scanned the crowd, your heart sinking when you saw him heading towards the beach, his posture tense and hurried. you knew him too well; something was wrong.

you excused yourself and followed him, your sandals sinking into the cool sand. as you got closer, you could see his shoulders heaving, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"conrad!" you called out, but he didn’t stop.

he froze but didn't turn around. he quickened his steps, desperate to escape the mounting pressure inside his chest. his vision blurred as the panic clawed at him, a tight, suffocating grip that made it hard to breathe.

"conrad, please!" your voice was closer now, filled with concern.

he stumbled to a stop near the water's edge, the sound of the waves failing to soothe him. he dropped to his knees, hands clutching his hair as he tried to steady his breathing. the crashing waves, usually so soothing, now felt like they were closing in on him.

you reached him and knelt beside him, your concern deepening. "conrad, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice a mix of worry and urgency.

"go away, y/n," he managed to choke out, his voice strained and broken. "i don’t want you to see me like this."

"no, you don’t get to push me away again," you said firmly, grabbing his arm as he tried to stand up and walk away. "you don’t have to do this alone. i’m not leaving you."

"just go," he pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "i don’t deserve your help. i don’t deserve you."

ignoring his protests, you moved in front of him, your hands gently cupping his face. "conrad, look at me. just breathe with me, okay? in and out, nice and slow."

he tried to turn away, but your grip was firm, your eyes filled with unwavering concern. he focused on you, matching his breaths to yours. slowly, the tightness in his chest began to loosen, he focused on the sound of your voice, your presence.

"that’s it," you whispered, "you’re okay. i’ve got you."

his breathing steadied, but his eyes remained locked on yours, your face was mere inches away from his. for a moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you. his proximity was intoxicating, and for a fleeting second, it felt like he might kiss you. but then you turned your head away, breaking the spell. you reminded yourself that you had a boyfriend.

conrad's heart sank. he knew about your boyfriend, of course. he had overheard taylor and belly asking you how things were going with him. he would never admit it, but he was jealous. of course he was jealous. he closed his eyes, trying to push the feelings away. "i'm sorry," he murmured.

"it’s okay," you replied, still holding his face gently. "just tell me what’s going on. why are you so upset?"

he took a deep, shaky breath. "it’s my mom. i’m trying, y/n. i’m really trying to hold it together for jere, but i’m so worried about her. she’s… she’s acting like everything’s normal when it’s not. y/n, she’s not getting better. the trial… it’s… it’s not working. she’s dying, y/n, and i don’t know how to fix it."

your heart broke for him. "conrad, you don’t have to be so strong all the time. it’s okay to be overwhelmed. it’s okay to be scared. you’re human."

he shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "but i'm supposed to be the strong one, the big brother. i’m supposed to be able handle everything."

you shook her head gently. "even the strongest people need help sometimes. it's not wrong for you to feel this way. you're allowed to be vulnerable. conrad, your mother is dying. it's okay to feel however you need to feel. your feelings are completely valid. it's not good for you to keep this all bottled up inside."

he nodded, his tears finally spilling over. "thank you," he whispered, his voice raw. "thank you for being here with me."

you wiped away his tears, your thumbs rubbing at his cheeks. your faces were close once more. for a moment, their was on the verge of something—an old, familiar closeness. but conrad pulled back slightly, knowing it wasn’t fair to you. he couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t hurt you again.

"i appreciate it, y/n. more than you know."

as the fireworks continued to burst in the sky, you stayed by his side, your presence a steady comfort in the chaos of his mind. you sat together on the sand, the sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop.

[lalachat]

"Shadows and Scandal"

Author's note: HEYO! I know this chapter is a day late... It's because I am in the process of moving, as well as being back at work. ehheeh I will have money again woohoo! no more summer school that takes up ALL my time. I have all of these next chapters in queue, but none of them have authors notes, summaries, or updated tag lists, hence why this one is being released now... I am not really sure what else to say in this except for thank you! With my busy life all the notifs i get on these stories makes my soul smile!! I love y'all <3

Summary: After your meeting with the inner court, Azriel starts to ask you questions about how your potion works. Deciding that its best to tell him, you open up to him about you past. But with secrets exposed and feelings growing, will you be able to keep your secret hidden from everyone else?

Word Count: 2155

Chapter 4: "With Me"

The house was quiet when you and Azriel returned. The warmth of the House of Wind, the laughter, the wine, all of it felt far behind now. Shortly after Cassian's antics, Feyre and Rhysand excused themselves as they had to get back to their parental duties. After that, everyone said their goodbyes, and now here you were back at Azriel's house.

You slipped off your shawl and laid it across the entry table, your movements slower now that the weight of the evening’s mask had finally started to wear off.

Azriel lingered near the door. His shadows were quieter than usual, like even they knew the night wasn’t quite over. He didn’t speak until you turned toward the hallway.

“How does it work?” he asked softly.

You paused. “The door?”

He shook his head. “No, the potion. The one that hides your wings.”

You looked at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice. There was no judgment in it, only curiosity, and something close to concern. He was your husband now, even if just on paper. He deserved to know all of your truths, even the ones that haunted you.

You stepped toward the center of the room. “It’s a glamour,” you said. “A strong one. It's a masking spell layered over a binding tonic.”

“When do you take it?”

You rubbed your forearms, anxiety creeping in. “Every morning at sunrise, or close to it. Sometimes I mix it with tea. Other days, if I’m in a rush, I just take it straight.”

"Does it hurt you?"

“Not exactly,” you admitted. “But it gets heavy. By the end of the day, it feels like I’m dragging shackles full of stone.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before speaking in a voice barely above a whisper, “Can I see them?”

The question settled between you, heavy and exposed. You searched his face for mockery, for hesitation, for the cold scrutiny you’d learned to expect from others. But there was none. Only a look of understanding. So you nodded, and with an exhale, the glamour fell.

The magic unraveled like silver threads slipping from your skin. Your wings shivered as the air touched them, after being hidden for too long. Slowly, you let them unfurl. The soft midnight feathers caught the light in the house and glimmered like ink in moonlight.

Azriel stared. Not in horror, not in pity, but in awe.

“They’re…” he began, voice low. “They’re stunning.”

You let out a small, breathless laugh. “They’re wrong.”

His brow furrowed, a flicker of something sharp crossing his face.

“They’re not like the others. Not like yours. I was born this way, feathered, not bat-skinned. That's not normal, Azriel." You paused, breath catching as trauma stirred, hurt, painful, unspoken.

“I told Rhysand I didn’t want my wings clipped. That was true. But it wasn’t the whole truth.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed, but he stayed quiet.

“When I wrote to him… I didn’t say I was different. I didn’t tell him I had feathers. I just said I was Illyrian and running from a father that would clip me.” You swallowed. “It was a calculated choice. I didn’t trust anyone, not yet. And I knew if I told him what I really was, he might treat me differently. Or worse, he’d tell the others. I can’t risk that information getting out.”

Azriel’s shadows slowed, sensing the shift in your heartbeat.

“My mother said I came from an ancient line. A rare kind of Illyrian with feathered wings that were once a symbol of magic. She said it skipped generations, that maybe her grandmother had them too. But over time, the world decided they were valuable in the wrong ways. The feathers hold power, and if harvested, they could be used in spells to enhance the enchantments, bind magic, that sort of thing.”

You stared at the floor. “If people knew what I was, they wouldn’t see a person. They’d see a resource. Something to control and exploit, so I ran.”

Azriel didn’t interrupt. Not once. Not even when your voice broke.

“That’s why I kept the secret,” you finished. “Why, even now, I haven’t told anyone else. Not Feyre. Not Rhysand. Because if they knew, things would change.”

Your gaze met his. “And I don’t want to be looked at like I’m some relic.”

Azriel’s expression darkened. “And your father? He tried to clip them?”

You shook your head. “Did more than try. The day before it was supposed to happen, I snuck out. I found the brewmistress that the village girls had whispered about. She gave me a vial along with the formula so it would hold up even under close inspection." Your voice trembled. "If my father finds me, Azriel-”

“He won’t,” Azriel said immediately, fiercely. “And if he does, I'll be there, I'll protect you.”

You looked at him, really looked at him. “That’s part of why we did this, isn’t it? This marriage. This lie. To protect my secret. You’re the only one who can know.”

He nodded as he was still watching your wings, shadows moving slowly around them as though curious too. Then his gaze flicked back to yours.

“Have you ever flown before?”

The question caught you off guard.

“I…” You blinked. “I don’t know.”

He tilted his head. “You don’t know?”

You folded your wings slightly, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t remember ever learning. I don’t have memories of trying or even being off the ground. I must have been too young to remember.”

Azriel’s expression shifted to something softer, almost pained. “Flying is instinct. It lives in your bones, in your balance. It’s not easy, but once you get it…” He let out a small breath. “There’s nothing like it.”

You looked at him, curiosity blooming. “What does it feel like?”

A faint smile appeared on his lips. “It's freedom, control, and peace all at once. Sometimes terror, when the wind is too wild. But there’s a moment when you’re high enough and the air is just right, it feels like the whole world goes quiet. Like nothing can touch you.”

You swallowed, eyes flicking to your wings again. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

He straightened, a glint of something new settling in his expression. “With me.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re going to train,” he said firmly. “With me. We’ll start tomorrow morning.”

Your brows rose. “Azriel—”

“Self-defense first. Then flying.” His voice was calm. “You need to know how to protect yourself if you ever need to. But more importantly… You deserve to feel what it’s like to fly... Not just hide.”

The weight of his words settled in your chest like a promise.

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

A silence passed. A moment of unspoken things as you both looked at each other.

Azriel stepped back, shadows curling close to his shoulders again. “You should get some rest.”

You hesitated. “Right.”

Azriel shifted his weight, glancing down the hallway, then back at you, as he started walking to his room. His mouth opened slightly, like he might say something, then closed again.

You mirrored the movement, stepping toward your own room with a quiet inhale. Both of you stood there, in the quiet of the house, facing opposite ends of the hallway. Not moving, waiting. For what, you weren’t sure. A word? An invitation? Something to tip the balance?

Your eyes met for half a second. Long enough to feel it. Whatever it was. But no one spoke.

Eventually, you both turned in opposite directions at the same time. His door shut softly behind him. So did yours. And the space between you stayed untouched that night.

Azriel POV

The soft click of her door echoed louder than it should have.

He stood at his door for a long moment, hand still hovering over the handle. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

He could still feel the echo of her wings in the air. The way the feathers had shimmered in the low light, the tremble that had run through them when the glamour lifted. He’d seen all kinds of wings in his lifetime. Broken ones. Brutalized ones. Bloody, clipped, torn. But hers... gods, hers were alive in a way he couldn't explain. They were unlike anything he'd ever seen, and somehow more right than any pair he’d fought beside.

And the way she looked when she talked about them, like she was trying not to break down in front of him, he’d seen that too. That quiet, desperate kind of strength. He hated it.

Azriel finally moved, shadows curling around him, restless. They always were when he felt too much. He rubbed a hand over his face and leaned against the door.

She didn’t even know if she could fly. Didn’t remember ever trying. His chest tightened. That wasn’t just sad. It was wrong.

Whoever had convinced her that her wings were wrong had taken something sacred from her. He’d give it back if he could. He would. Even if it took the rest of his damn life.

Tomorrow, they’d begin. He'd have to go slow and tread carefully, as this would take a lot of trust. And he couldn’t afford to fumble it. Not now. Not when all of it was already starting to matter more than it should.

He lay on the bed without undressing, staring at the ceiling, and didn’t sleep for a long time.

Y/N POV

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands resting in your lap, your wings folded tightly behind you.

The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Casting across the floor, across your arms, across the ends of your feathers that still trembled faintly with the memory of air.

The glamour potion sat untouched on the bedside table. You couldn’t bring yourself to lift it. Not after the way he’d looked at you.

Stunning, he’d said.

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. The silence in the hallway had meant something, hadn’t it? The weight of it, the way you’d both lingered as if waiting for one of you to take a step forward. But no one had moved.

You pulled your legs up onto the mattress, curling beneath the blanket, and you were used to silence. To secrets. To keeping yourself hidden and tucked away. But tonight… he had seen you. Seen all of you.

And now you weren’t sure if you could ever put the mask back on and pretend that didn’t matter. Because suddenly it felt like it did.

Your gaze flicked to the door before you turned on your side and closed your eyes.

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Tags:

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[tigerf00d]

Words Inside a Shell

Chapter 3: The Tide Always Moves Fast

Pairing: Spike x Reader

Other Characters: Buffy and Willow, Xander (mentioned), minor original characters

Tags: EXPLICIT! Smut ahead! You are responsible for your own consumption of media, but please don't interact if you're under 18. No use of Y/N. Afab but gender-neutral.

Word Count: 4.3k . I don't. I don't know what possessed me.

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Series masterlist

Summary: While trying to get over a crush on a certain crispy-haired vampire, you end up falling right back into his arms

Or, the one where a night out with the girls goes wrong.

A/N: So What if I said I split up the last chapter and the first 1k(ish) of this one so it wasn't a monster chapter. It's not my fault the spirit of the holidays possessed me, and now we have 4k of smut. Happy Holidays, ya filthy animals.

You sighed, turning to Spike and hanging your head slightly.

“Well, that was a bust.”

“Hoping to go home with him, were you?”

You looked up at Spike before answering in a small voice. “Not really.”

Not for the first time tonight, Spike’s gaze was intense. His bright eyes observed you, focusing on your expression as you did the same in turn.

Unlike earlier, him checking you out didn’t feel quite so cold. Where before you felt like you were stalked prey, you now felt relief at the familiarity of him watching over you.

Spike squinted and then nodded towards the toilets, breaking the spell the two of you were under.

“Yeah, you’re a mess, love. Better go get cleaned up.”

“Thanks, Spike.” you said sarcastically but began walking through the throng of other dancers regardless.

You stopped before entering. “Oh, I need to tell Buffy and Willow—”

“Go. I’ll alert the neighbourhood watch.”

“Thanks, Spike.” You answered, this time sincerely, smiling from the doorway as he fake gagged and turned away to tell the girls.

You ran the tap, splashing cool water on your face. Thankfully, even though it was to cut costs, the Bronze had two gender-neutral toilets, both their rooms and only slightly larger than the regular stalls in the women’s and men’s bathrooms.

You grabbed paper towels from above the thick counters— probably only there so that drunk patrons couldn’t rip the sink out of the wall— grimacing at their gritty fibrous surface, muttering “In for a penny, in for a pound…” and then patting against the wetter spots of skin.

Your reflection looked much calmer now, not necessarily neater, but you felt better either way. Two sharp knocks echoed across the small room.

“Um, occupied?”

“‘S me.” Spike said against the door.

You straighten your posture and crack open the door, wincing as it creaks.

“Did you tell them?”

“Yeah, they wanted to come see you but…” He shrugged, petering off.

“Y’know for all that talk of being an evil vampire you sure are helpful.”

“Take that back.” He said, evidently flustered.

“No I don’t think I will. Thanks for helping me with that jerk, by the way.”

“It’s no problem. I can eat him too, if you’d like.”

“I had considered it.”

He smiled at you and for a moment you forgot to breathe, the smile was small but earnest, an expression that he rarely had after years of guarding his intentions.

You unfroze, remembering yourself and smiled back, no doubt he had caught the moment of unintentional hesitation, but if he had he didn’t mention it.

“So, why are you here?”

“Oh, you know, T.V. stations went to sleep, only the shopping channel’s on this time of night. Or my favourite: static.”

“Enlightening. Now, why are you really here?”

He raised a brow at your repeated question, “I was bored. There’s barely anything to do in Sunnydale. Or anyone for that matter.”

You roll your eyes, and the thought, ‘don’t remind me,’ floats behind your eyes, but you don’t get the chance to voice it when Spike continues,

“And it’s a good thing I did too. That guy was too handsy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yes. How could I ever repay you?”

“I can think of a couple of ways.” the vamp joked. You hummed, agreeing as you quietly made a decision.

You sank to your knees, not breaking eye contact when your knees landed on the cool tile of the stall's floor.

“Oh, no, love. You don't have to do that.”

“What? I can't thank my knight in shining leather?”

“Well, when you put it that way. Far be it from me to refuse your gratitude.” He brushed the hair off of your face, and you grasped the material of his pants near his hips, hands warmed by his duster.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” You clarified.

“I never said that.” He responded quickly.

“So, to be clear, you do want me to suck you off in this bathroom right now?”

He groaned, nodding as he widened his stance for you to better slot against him and said, “Of course I do.”

You leaned against him, your legs straddling one of his own as you rested your head against his groin, tent growing from his clothed member beginning to strain against the fabric, and peered up at him.

“Do you promise?” You asked, teasing him now.

“Yes, love, I promise.”

“It’s good to check.”

“Sure.” He mumbled absent-mindedly while fumbling with his belt buckle.

You took pity on him, nudging his hands out of the way and then undoing the button and zipper of his jeans while you were at it. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants and the elastic of his briefs on either side of his hips and you gradually pull them halfway down his thighs, releasing him from the confines of his clothes.

Spike lets out a faint unbidden sigh of relief as his hard cock springs free, so quiet you're not certain he's even aware he made it.

You run your hands back up his thighs, fingertips lingering under his shirt, feeling the Adonis lines for yourself and emitting a soft, excited noise, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as your breath quickens.

He was long, slightly curved, and not skinny. The head was only slightly paler than you had expected, though in consideration of his supernatural nature, it wasn't anything that couldn't be explained.

From Spike's perspective, he watched as you placed a kiss to where his torso met his thigh. Heard your heart beat faster, blood rushing in excitement as you become more aroused. More aroused because you wanted to blow him, even in this dingy stall.

Your warm, soft hand gently gripped the base of him, tilting him slightly to give an open-mouthed kiss to the shaft. Even as you shifted away, he could feel your warm breath against his skin, only making him all the more desperate for you.

Fortunately for Spike, you weren't the most patient either. You briefly removed your hand and spat into your palm, returning it to his dick almost immediately after. You held him more firmly and began to stroke him. Pumping the wetness over him with your fist.

You sat back, letting out an almost silent gasp as you felt the hard material of his boot make contact through your clothes and Spike's lips parted as he fought the urge to buck into your hand at this reaction.

It was then that he felt your warm tongue swipe over the head of his cock, swirling around it a few times to get used to the taste of him. Without realising he had closed his eyes, Spike opened them and looked down to find you looking up at him, bright, eager, eyes shining as you licked up the length of him.

“Is this all you wanted? Someone's cock in your mouth, hm?” His voice cracked as you sucked the tip of him into your mouth and hummed an affirmative to his question before releasing with a salacious ‘pop’.

“Not just anyone.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed around him again, not removing him from your plush lips as you sucked him further into your mouth, already wanting to take more of him in. The vibrations sent a shock wave of pleasure through Spike’s whole body, and he was practically salivating, watching you try to stimulate yourself as a result of his shuddered reaction.

“Go on, pet. Y’ can hump my boot if you'd like.”

You whined around him, body gyrating as you manoeuvred your legs to do so less awkwardly.

What you couldn't reach with your mouth, you continued to stroke with your hands, twisting around him in time with the motions of your tongue.

Spike hadn't expected your eagerness, hand reaching out to comb through the hairs on the side of your head, clutching you tightly. He also didn't expect you to moan because of that, and in a moment of weakness fucked into your mouth a fraction more, the sensation overwhelming him and causing his head to tip back as the vibrations from the moan you released in his hold washed over his senses.

But then you pulled back, tongue flat against the slit as you sucked at the same time as you twisted your fist at the base of him, the side of your palm brushing against surprisingly soft stubble that let you know that he wasn't, in fact, naturally hairless.

He whined at the feeling of it; thick, hot pleasure coiled throughout him, building at the base of his spine. Stopping himself from pushing you any further proved to be a herculean effort, though Spike had never been very good at holding himself back.

You ground your sensitive clit against the leather of his boot rhythmically, sloppier now as you got closer to finishing. Spike was making the most delicious half-rocking aborted motions like he wanted nothing more than to let go but was doing his absolute best to restrain himself for you.

Moments later, he felt your mouth slip off of him, replaced by the mind-numbingly languid strokes of both your hands against him and when he opened his mouth to ask if you needed to stop, his thoughts scattered, words dissipating into nothingness at the feeling of your warm breath against him as you spoke.

“Spike, you don't have to hold back with me.”

He exhaled sharply. Blinking as he fought to form a coherent sentence, Spike's normally quick wit had turned into a blank nothingness for him to draw from.

Finally, he settled on “Are you sure?”

“I've always wanted to try it.” You ran a thumb over the very tip of him, causing him to shudder and blink rapidly as he tried to keep his composure.

“You've never done it, but you…” Spike groaned, grabbing your chin and swiping his own thumb over your slick lips, “Fuck me, pet. It's really what you want.”

“Please, Spike? Use me.”

“How can I deny such pretty words?”

At that, he grasped each side of your head, hair bunching around his fingers as you guided his dick back into your mouth excitedly.

How were you so good at this? You had to have been designed in a lab. You were turning him on so effortlessly. Not the weirdest way he's gotten a lay.

He cursed, abdominal muscles tightening in anticipation as you took him deeper now. Your hands removed from his shaft to hold his hips again for stability.

Slowly, he tested your limits, pushing himself further into you, stalling when you released a happy moan from your full mouth.

“You're really letting me do this?” He asked once more.

You hummed agreeably along Spike’s cock, himself moaning because of it.

Without meaning to, you had stalled your motions, reminded when your neglected clit once again made contact with the material of his shoe, and you whined, bearing down to grind against it and build yourself back up again, nearing your peak much quicker this time.

As though you had switched roles, words came much easier to Spike now.

“Fuck, look at you like that, pet. So eager.”

Your rocking against him, desperate to hit the perfect spot over and over and over again, only served to turn him on more. Your search for friction proved that you were getting turned on by servicing him.

When he rolled his hips forward again, less experimentally than the last time, Spike could feel your throat relaxing. Inviting him in deeper.

A low, enraptured groan escaped Spike as he relinquished control over his other senses, allowing the feeling of you together engulf him.

Your nails dug into the bare flesh of his hips, letting him know he could sink into you further, encouraging him to do so.

Spike hissed in pleasure as he rutted into your mouth.

“You're good like this. Not giving me attitude.”

You glanced up at him as though to say that it was rude to talk with your mouth full, but the effect was lost when he took in the thin mist of sweat settling on your skin and the glassy quality taking over your eyes.

Instead, you suck harshly in retaliation, tightening your throat suddenly to overwhelm him before relaxing again to allow him to continue to fuck into your waiting mouth.

The groan torn out of him borders on feral, hands moving to better push you down onto his cock. Your eyes water, your nose almost brushing the stubble you felt earlier, and Spike holds you there. Holds you so far onto himself you worry you're going to gag any moment as he pants above you. So far that you don't even realise that you’re still grinding slowly against him.

After what feels like forever, he releases you and allows you a moment to breathe before rhythmically pulling you down onto him again.

“‘M close, precious. You?”

You blink, teary-eyed and hum an affirmative.

“So pretty.” He murmurs, and you aren’t entirely certain that it was meant to be out loud.

You hum again, almost non-committally, as you feel the ache in your jaw.

Spike’s thrusting grew sloppy, “Where, love?”

You tapped his thigh with your right hand before gesturing to your mouth.

“Inside?”

“Mhmm.”

He pumped once, twice, three more times, a groaned warning leaving his mouth moments before you felt him spilling into you.

His hips had stalled, so you pulled back, holding only the tip between closed lips and clumsily stroked his cock to prolong his orgasm.

Spike was breathing heavily above you, removing himself from your mouth at the same time as hauling you up.

“Did you…?” His voice peters off as he focuses on fixing his clothes, glancing up in time to catch you shaking your head and massaging your jaw.

“Let’s rectify that immediately.”

He lifts you so suddenly that you don’t have time to disguise your squeak, placing you on the counter. Despite your most recent activities, you feel your face heat in embarrassment at his crooked smirk in response to your surprise.

As Spike begins to kneel, you stop him, opening your mouth to protest.

“Oh, Spike, it’s fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Part of the fun is the thrill, love. I want to.”

“Are you sure? I’ve never… There’s never been someone who wanted to do this for me.”

Spike scoffs, “Then you’ve been with losers.”

“Oh, and you know better, hm?”

“About this and many other things.” He says, voice low. “I want to give you pleasure.”

Your mouth goes dry, “Ok.”

“Since apparently, you’ve only ever been with idiots…” Spike mutters, definitely intending to keep the thought to himself.

“Ok.” You say louder this time, and he looks at you cheekily.

He pulls you to the edge of the counter first, slotting himself between your legs at the same time as he puts his hands on either side of you on the counter so that he can lean in, kissing you excruciatingly softly. You can’t believe it.

When he pulls back to leave hot, biting kisses at your throat, you can’t help but stare at him wide-eyed, feeling like your brain is leaking out of your ears.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts that you don’t even register that he’s stopped kissing marks around your collar and has begun removing your clothes.

Spike leaves your top half and shoes on, opting instead to only remove the clothing barriers necessary. He finally kneels, running his fingers over the line of your cunt through your underwear to feel the wetness.

Though you had agreed for him to pleasure you, you squirm under his touch, fidgeting to stop yourself from closing your thighs. As though sensing this, he uses one hand to push your left leg away, effectively allowing him to pull your underwear to the side and repeat the motion he had earlier.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp, arching into him and then lifting your hips slightly to help him in his quest to free you. You place your clothes beneath you so that your bare skin doesn’t have to come in contact with the freezing countertop.

Spike’s touches grow bolder, fingers moving purposefully against your swollen entrance.

As you watch him, you notice that while his breathing has calmed down, he now looks as though he’s just shy of hyperventilating in excitement. Ever the loverboy.

“Is this from riding my shoe?”

“And you face-fucking me.”

“Ah, yes. We mustn’t forget that…” Spike’s voice made you aware that he probably never would forget it, or at least not for a very long, long time.

Your clit is aching so hard you feel as though your entire body is pulsing in time with it. Honestly, when you had left tonight, you had expected to maybe pick up a guy and kiss for a while to sate the bone-deep desire to be touched before retiring to the safety of your abode, where you could rub yourself to completion while imagining the scenario in front of you.

This was much better.

Spike, oblivious to your musing, has spent this time mapping your body with his hands, with the hand bracing your leg open, his thumb runs distracted, almost soothing circles as he kisses the other thigh. His free hand has made its home underneath what little clothing you still have on, finding your nipple with practised ease as he teases the sensitive skin there.

You shiver under all the attention, spreading your legs wider in encouragement, earlier embarrassment totally forgotten with the notion of Spike touching you properly.

The feeling of his warm breath against your mound is all the warning you get before he finally licks into you, top to bottom, so eagerly that the immediate relief you feel against your neglected flesh is palpable.

Wheezing, you tip your head back much the same as he had earlier, bumping your head on the tiles of the bathroom wall.

“Relax, love. Don’t want to damage that pretty head of yours.”

You whine at the removal of his mouth, wriggling slightly to tell him to get a move on, and he can’t help but huff a laugh.

This isn’t your first time being eaten out, almost surprisingly from the horror stories you’d heard. But this is different. This is Spike; he had maybe a century under his belt at this point, and the experience showed. Where other partners had offered in the past, once they actually got down to it, it was obviously because they felt some sense of duty, as though your pleasure was nothing more than an obligation when it came to having you fulfil their own desires in turn. Their focus shifted as soon as they thought they’d done a sufficient job to whatever they deemed the next step was.

In comparison, Spike seemed to relish at the opportunity, borderline worshipful in his actions. It’s nearly mind-blowing.

As your body goes lax against the countertop, Spike positions your legs up over his shoulders now that you’re making a concentrated effort to remain available to him. No longer holding your thighs agape, his thumb instead refocuses that circular motion against your clit so that while he explores other aspects of your mound, your hips don’t jump, and your aching flesh doesn’t feel neglected.

You try not to thrash under the attention, the action of holding you down alone has your heart squeezing tight in your chest.

Spike continues to lave his tongue against you, tasting. His movements— the softness of his tongue against you— create such delicious friction that you can see your chest moving as you pant, feeling as though your head is spinning.

“Fuck.” You gasp when Spike drags the muscle over your sensitive clit, hips jerking despite your best efforts. “Fuck, please. Please, Spike.”

Spike somehow pays close attention to each of your body’s cues. Every breath, whimper, and sharp intake of air. His movements reveal his desire to find what makes you react the most as he tries to match the motions to your sounds.

Your knees, still over his shoulders, tilt outwards. Conscious to not dig the heel of your shoes into his back, your toes clench uselessly within their confines.

Your breath stutters when he bears down more intensely, seemingly finding a pattern that draws the most satisfactory rhythm out of you, though you’re certainly not complaining.

“I’m close.” You moan, arm thrown over your face to muffle your noises. Even though the Bronze plays it’s music unbearably loud at times, you couldn’t risk people loitering outside the bathroom hearing you, much to Spike’s chagrin.

He sucks your clit into his mouth harshly, and you shudder against his face, vision blanking as you feel your orgasm finally, finally, wash over you. You can’t hold back your whines as the hot static pleasure radiates from the apex of your thighs out through what feels like the fibre of your being, writhing as Spike draws every last drop of pleasure that he can from you until you’re shivering with oversensitive aftershocks.

You have every intention of speaking, but after that, you can barely get words out, let alone calm your racing heart.

“Better?” Spike asks.

“Much,” You manage to respond, voice wavering, and you begin to redress.

As though sent from the Hellmouth herself, three knocks ring from the door, swiftly followed by Willow’s anxious calling of your name. Feeling like you’ve been plunged into cold water, you freeze, wide eyes staring at Spike with urgency as though he could magically grant you the ability to speak.

“Spike? Are you guys still in there?”

Spike groans, hanging his head. Thankfully, you find your voice again in time to interrupt whatever the vamp may have said.

“Yeah, Will, we’re still in here.”

“Oh good, ‘cause you know, Buffy and I were thinking of getting out of here, but we didn’t want to ditch you. Are you feeling better?”

From this side of the door, you could just make out Buffy’s snort and casual “I bet they do.”

“I am, thanks. Um, just give me a second, ok. I’m… I got more upset than I thought I would at that guy. Spike’s been…” You scramble to find an excuse. “Spike’s been telling me embarrassing stories.”

“I have not!” He responds indignantly, then shrinking back under your glare. “They’re not embarrassing anyway.”

“We’ll be out in a second.” You finish.

“Ok. We’ll be at the car.” Buffy says.

You finish redressing and, with Spike’s outstretched hand as guidance, gracefully find your footing on solid ground once more. Assessment of your reflection leaves you reluctantly optimistic that you don’t look like you just experienced a defining sexual encounter for this lifetime, though your lips were swollen and you’d have to cover your neck somehow. You glanced wordlessly at Spike, who was already watching you with an unexpected fondness in his eye.

“Can I wear your duster?”

“What?” Obviously, this was not the question he had expected.

You tilted your neck to more effectively point out the purple lovebites forming, “You freaking lay into me like some sort of— well.” You gesture at him, causing Spike to roll his eyes as he mentally finishes the sentence.

“Fine.” He hands the large leather coat over to you, pulling it back slightly before you grab it to ask, “And how will I be getting this back?”

“You’re coming home with me?”

“Oh, am I now?” He passed the duster to you, watching as you put it on and manoeuvred the collar to better hide the marks on your neck. His already poorly disguised amusement was not helped by the smug grin he wore.

“Obviously.” You paused, walking to the bathroom’s wretched door, “Unless you’re not game.”

“No, I’m game—”

“Good, for a second there, I thought your refractory period might take forever, considering your age.”

Spike guffawed at you. “Yeah, right. I’ll have you know my ‘refractory period’ is perfectly fine, thank you. Perfect even.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Spike’s arm went beside your head as he opened the door for you, allowing you to keep your entirely too pleased smile to yourself as you excited and made your way out of the Bronze, feeling his presence close behind you the entire time.

As promised, Buffy and Willow stood steadfast around the car. Willow was already in her seat picking at something near the window, and Buffy outside of the driver’s side door, scanning the surroundings. Her expression was only slightly too stern, almost reminiscent of a bouncer or security guard off duty, ever the slayer.

You rubbed your eyes and yawned as you got closer, a perfect facsimile of exhaustion.

Which… Though you were tired, your body thrummed with the knowledge that your night was only just beginning.

“Hey guys.” Buffy smiled when she noticed your arrival, opening the door to let herself in.

“Hey Buff.”

Willow looked up from her seat in the Jeep, and you watched in real time as you noticed what you were wearing and tilted her head in silent question.

To answer, you hooked your hands under the flaps of the duster slightly, twirling as you walked so that the leather flared out around you.

“Pretty cool, right? I can see why he wears it. I feel like Dracula.” You paused, “Or maybe a leather princess.”

Buffy snorted, no doubt seeing the exasperated face Spike was making in reaction to your words.

“Hey, speaking of Dracula,” You leant against the open window into the car, “could we drop Spike off? I don’t wanna forget to give him the coat back and have to walk into the crypt at night.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Buffy said, Willow nodding beside her, quiet now as the night caught up.

You whirled around to face Spike, recovering quickly as you startled at how close he was and gave him an exaggerated thumbs up before making your way to ‘your’ seat.

“Where to, Spike?” Buffy was watching him carefully through the rearview mirror. For his part, Spike was already looking out the window, watching the gradually moving night scenery through windows that weren’t blacked out for once.

“Oh, just their place is fine. I can walk back after there.”

Amusement coloured Buffy’s voice, “If you say so.”

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Five

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

I sat in the large bedroom, feeling out of place. Bucky told me to make myself at home, no matter what. He wanted me to feel comfortable especially since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying with him. To be honest, I probably could have gone to stay with anyone else but when Bucky offered his house, my heart jumped at the idea of being alone with him for more than an hour. It wasn’t the best idea, knowing our history, and I had done such a good job at getting over him that this only spelled disaster. 

The loud voice in my head scoffed, knowing that I was lying about getting over him. 

With a sigh, I forced myself to get up and at least unpack my bags, hoping it would make me feel a bit more comfortable here. This house was Bucky's. He worked so hard for everything and it felt wrong for me to come in pretending that I belonged here with him. 

There was a soft knock on the door and I gave my best smile to Bucky, who was leaning against the frame with his arms over his chest. 

“Settling in fine?” 

I gave a half shrug. “I guess.” 

He could tell by the way my voice faltered that something was wrong so Bucky pushed himself off the frame and motioned towards the bed. 

“It’s your house,” I responded flatly. 

Bucky let out a deep breath while sitting on the end of the bed. “Is that why you’ve been so closed off? You didn’t say one word the entire drive.” 

My gaze stuck on my hands as I watched my fingers work on folding a shirt, two times to many. 

“I feel as if I’m invading your personal space. I would have been fine staying in a hotel until everything blows over.” 

“You’re not, Y/N. I want you here. How else would I be able to make sure you’re safe?” Bucky questioned.

I didn’t say anything, only tossed the shirt back into my suitcase and let out an annoyed breath.  

“This is such bullshit,” I grumbled. “I shouldn’t have to feel like I can’t stay in my own home.” 

Bucky went to reach for me but held himself back, knowing that we weren’t there quite yet. We only just saw each other again after eight months. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a broken sigh. 

“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” I shook my head and finally looked into his eyes. 

The usual light that shone behind them that I found myself drowning in was long gone. Clearly the last eight months had also been hard on him; even though he deserved some pain. Just a little bit. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

His voice was quiet but I had still heard him by giving him a nod. 

“Why did you leave for eight months?” Bucky asked. 

“Bucky,” I sighed, not wanting to get into this right now. 

“I deserve to know,” he said. 

I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. “You deserve to know? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

He placed his head in his hands. “I don’t want to fight, doll. I just want to know why you were away for so long.” 

My shoulders dropped when I heard the hurt in his voice and decided that a fight between us wasnt what either of us needed. I took a seat next to him but not too close, unafraid of what would happen if I felt him brush against me. 

“I thought that if I stayed away that long that it would help me move on from you, get over what we went through,” I admitted. 

Bucky’s hands were clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

“Did it work?” he asked

I looked at him with so much love in my heart and eyes, my voice breaking in a hushed tone. I almost uttered those three words that would fall from my lips while I dreamt of him every night while I was gone. 

“I’m afraid to find out.” 

Vibranium fingers wrapped squeezed my thigh, Bucky’s touch shocking all the buried feelings back to the surface. 

“It was wrong of me to put you in that position. You deserved to have someone that wouldn’t cause you pain. You should be their first priority, Y/N.”  

I began to slowly trace the gold lines of his arm, my gaze falling on his face. “I wanted you to be that person, Bucky.” 

He let out a very shaky breath, lips trembling, and looked down. “I’m sorry.” 

For the second time tonight, he apologized. The only difference was that this one was his fault, so I gently leaned my head against his shoulder. 

“I appreciate your apology.” 

We stayed like this for a while, my head on his shoulder and his hand on my knee. No other movements happened between us as words were not said, only enjoying the quiet solace that we had found ourselves in. Even if he had apologized, I wasn’t going to pick up where we left off. I couldn’t let myself get distracted with him when my life was on the line, the hit looming in the dark behind us. 

Bucky’s phone began to ring and I removed my head with a quiet sigh, watching him answer the call from Steve. 

“Yeah? I’m at home. Y/N’s here,” he gave me a small smile. “When did you find this out?” 

The anger was clear in the way his jaw glanced, eyes going dark. 

“Send me the address. We’ll meet you there.” 

Bucky ended the call and rose to his feet quickly. “Let’s go.” 

His hand was extended towards me and I raised a brow at it. “Where?” 

“Steve has a meeting with someone who knows more about where Clint and Natasha may have gone.” 

Without a second thought, I followed Bucky’s previous actions by rising to my feet and slipped into my jacket. As I went to walk past him, Bucky’s finger slipped between my fingers. 

“Promise that you’ll stay close to me tonight?” 

I nodded. “Whatever you say, goes.” 

[holasoythecreator]

𝙼𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝... 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏!

| [first page] | second page |

"first page": nobody's fault

pairing> mc/reader x Caleb synopsis> Caleb has been with me since the beginning; he has seen every single one of my sides, and even so, he’s been able to stand in front of me and not only claim, but prove, that he would always be by my side.

When you decide to start writing a notebook breaking down your past and how much of it is still alive in the present, of course, you come across the magnificent news that almost everything revolves, or revolved, around Caleb.

Like a planet orbits its sun.

tags> i dunno man, slice of life? drama, coming of age, emotional dependency, pseudo-incest, Co-comparison is killin' me slowly, sibling comparison, jealousy, self-esteem, personal identity, idealization, very brief internalized misogyny, childhood and adolescence, partly narrated, partly diary, school life, slow burn, bittersweet, maybe just sweet, or maybe just bitter, angst?????? set in China, but i smell Latin America. Mi gente latino word count> 3.3k notes of the machine> First post on tumblr, imposter syndrome is staring at me from the corner of the room im scared... I dont know, I wrote all this with traits that many might identify with in mind. I, being realistic, would have a complex relationship with Caleb if he existed. Soo hope you like it? If you do, pls tell me, and if you dont also tell. I dun speak english btw, you might notice

March 23rd, 2047 In my old American composition notebook I think it all traces back to Caleb. He set the standard. For everything.

But that standard has something in common with beauty ideals; they're made so that no one can actually reach them, but get a little closer with each attemp. Because Caleb was everything, and everyone knew it. I knew it better than anyone.

No one cooked like Caleb, no one knew more than Caleb, no one worked like Caleb, no one spoke like Caleb. No one would love me as much as Caleb.

There wasn’t a single person, not even by accident, who was remotely capable of touching the line he had “set.”

Not even me. And, whether you want it to or not, that hurts.

What as a kid translated into brief crying spells became a burning fire in my chest once I hit adolescence.

I depended on him too much, it showed, everyone could tell, and in my newly discovered need for approval, I came to the conclusion I couldn’t keep going like that. I wasn’t a little girl anymore, I was slowly turning into a young woman, and young women don’t need someone looking after them wherever they are, every minute of their day.

I never fully understood why, but any mention of Caleb started making me feel embarrassed. Uneasy. I didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.

“Maybe” it was because I compared myself to him, and I was scared others would too. Caleb was everything, what was I? What was left for me if all the admiration, praise, and applause went to him? Who was I if he was everything?

For years, I tried to distance myself from him as much as I could. If he was good in class, I skipped the class. If he played basketball, I played soccer. If he was good with girls, I avoided girls. If he didn’t want me around boys, I joined their group.

If I couldn’t be Caleb, I’d be his opposite. That way, at least it wouldn’t hurt so much to be less than him.

Once, he asked if I still loved him.

Of course I do, I told him.

Comparing myself to him wouldn’t have been so hard if I didn’t love every part of him.

February 21st, 2038 The middle school we attended That day, we’d just come back from winter break, so the guys and I made sure to have a good time while waiting for the coach.

Caleb had spent nearly our whole childhood warning me about how awful and cruel boys could be, and how different and understanding he was. So, naturally, this was my most blatant act of rebellion yet, if you hadn’t already noticed.

My soccer teammates became my family. Caleb was wrong about one thing. Boys weren’t that bad.

Yeah, they were rough, and yeah, their jokes were mean, edgy, and sometimes insensitive. And yeah, they didn’t filter what they said. But it was okay because boys mature later than girls.

Except for Caleb. He is always the exception.

One of them —the oldest one, in Caleb’s class— insisted on introducing me to his little sister after noticing I wasn’t hanging out much with girls my age. She and I ended up going together to a park during the break. Caleb was right. Again. Girls weren’t that bad.

But my opinion of him never changed.

“Of all the people you could replace me with,” Heberon told his sister the first time she joined us in the back of the school. “You replace me with her?” And he pointed at me like I was the plague.

There were always four of us. When she started hanging around, five.

"Glad you realized it on your own," Juli said, her head resting in my lap.

I liked our dynamic. It was new, but too familiar. Too intimate. That’s why I got attached so quickly. I’ve always gotten attached to people easily.

But I didn’t want to act with the boys the same way I acted with Juli.

It didn’t feel right.

"She’s mine now," Juli added, looking up at me. "Right?"

I nodded with a smile.

They kept chatting like normal. But that day, I felt off. Strange, for no reason I could name.

This part of the school was always empty at this hour, except for the occasional clueless kid who didn’t know in which field had practice. That’s why I liked it so much. It was our little world, isolated from everything else.

It was still cold, but not the kind that drove us into the gym. It was the kind I liked. The kind who reminded me of Zayne, when we were still friends.

What would the boy genius think if he saw me now? I wondered. Acting like anything but a “proper lady.”

"I knew I’d find you here!"

Just the sound of his voice made me roll my eyes and brush my hair back. Heberon and Alexis, on the other hand, jumped off the water tank they’d been sitting on to greet him. Of course. They were Caleb’s sheep too.

Landry and Juli stayed sitting with me, at most waving from a distance.

But Juli lifted her head from my lap, straightened her uniform, and sat up properly, trying to look presentable.

She looked embarrassed.

For Caleb? Did she really get like that over Caleb?

"Hey, pipsqueak." The nickname made me raise an eyebrow. But I still greeted him.

"Bad news, guys. No soccer today."

"What?!" I stood up to get a better look at the field. It seemed true. There was no trace of the coach, and students qere slowly trickling out. "Why? Who told you?"

"My coach. Outdoor sports are canceled today. Rain." He said, imitating his coach’s British accent.

"Rain?" We all turned to stare at Heberon at the same time. He was the one who swore up and down we’d have practice despite the forecast.

"Maybe… there was a mix-up," Caleb offered, tilting his head. "I’m just tellin’ you what I was told."

As much as we wanted to, we couldn’t drag the coach out onto the field, so we gathered our stuff to left and we looked at the sky like it had insulted our ancestors.

I ignored Caleb as much as I could, like always. Luckily, he didn’t give me much attention either, chatting instead with Alexis and Heberon about God-knows-what.

I never knew they were friends.

Because they weren’t. It’s just that it was always easy to talk to Caleb.

“Maybe we should get Rubén to dance,” Landry joked, casually tossing Alexis’s backpack out the window toward the computer lab. “It won't rain.”

“Because he’s Peruvian?” Juli asked, somewhere between innocent, amused, and mildly disappointed.

“Uh-huh,” He nodded.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump way too hard, accidentally shoving Juli forward.

It was him.

“Did you say bye, pipsqueak?” he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sports shorts.

I stared at him for a few seconds, and he stared back, narrowing his eyes like he was challenging a kid. Like he couldn’t take me seriously.

Why would he? I was in my rebellious phase.

“Bend over, then, I’m not fifteen feet tall,” I snapped.

“What? Why?”

“To say goodbye, why the fuck else would I ask you to bend over?”

For the first time in a long while, he didn’t even flinch at my tone. He just shook his head with one of those smug little half-smiles he had no business being born with.

What did he do in a past life to earn a smile like that?

“Oh, no. Not to me.” He gestured to the others. “To them.”

“What?”

“We’re heading home together.”

“No. No way.”

“Come on, you promised.”

“I didn’t promise, I said I’d think about it.”

“And in your language that means ‘yes, but with a condition.’” He placed a hand at the small of my back, trying to steer me away. “But you never told me the condition so—”

“It means no, Caleb.” I slipped away from his hand like it was a blade, not the same hand that had held mine a hundred times. “And what makes you think you speak ‘my language’ anyway?”

I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or just smash my head into the wall.

The whole situation; having him within three meters of me while I was with my friends, set off this tiny, persistent alarm in my head. The urge to vanish. To come up with an excuse for my behavior, maybe even for his.

Because he made me feel small. A kid throwing a tantrum.

Is that what Caleb saw? What Zayne would see?

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said, letting out a sigh, one of those quiet, controlled ones he used to gather his patience. “I know you like walking home with your friends, and I wouldn’t stop you if it wasn’t important.”

That shut me up. What was I going to say? Go screw yourself? No need to be dramatic, especially when he looked so serious about it.

“Alexis, Lan hid your backpack,” I said as a goodbye, offering a fleeting grin.

“Oh, fuck you, bitch,” Landry grumbled, flipping me off. “Bu—” He stumbled over the word for some reason, then laughed awkwardly. “Creepy.”

The only one I let myself actually say goodbye to was Juli. I opened my arms, and she threw herself into a hug. If she’d been taller —which she wasn’t—or stronger than me—which she also wasn’t— she’d have lifted me off the ground.

The last thing I heard from my friends that afternoon was Alexis asking, “What backpack?”

And then Caleb dragged me out of there.

He made me wait by the lockers while he changed, but when he was finally done, he kept pulling me around the school to finish up some last-minute stuff.

Because, of course, Caleb was perfect. Not just at home, in school too.

Teachers liked him. Students liked him. He even got along with the science lab rat.

It wasn’t enough that he filled every inch of my personal life and set the impossible standard for basically everything; he also had to be great at all the rest.

The worst part was, I didn’t think it was even on purpose.

He wasn’t trying to be better than anyone else. Least of all better than me. He just was. He worked for it every day. For my sake and Grandma’s happiness.

How do you tell a star to stop shining because its light annoys you?

You don’t.

Because deep down you know you’ll freeze to death the day it stops burning.

“We’ve been walking in circles for twenty minutes,” I complained once I was too tired to keep getting dragged around. “When are you gonna tell me what... said need to say?”

“Patience, patience,” he said, tidying up a classroom I swear I’d never noticed in my life. “If you helped, I’d probably finish faster.”

I asked for clear instructions and started helping.

I hadn’t done this kind of stuff since we were little.

He never stopped.

“So…” he began. And from the annoyingly light tone in his voice, I already knew where this was going. “Who was that girl?”

What?

“Repeat that?”

I dropped the markers onto the teacher’s desk, looking him in the eye. Waiting for the punchline.

“The girl, what’s her name?”

“Why do you care?”

He looked way too innocent to be serious.

Because he was never into girls.

“She’s Heberon’s sister, isn't she?” he asked. “The girl who came with us to the Lantern Festival.”

I paused, then nodded. There was no point hiding it. No reason to, neither.

“Juliette,” I said. “But she goes by Juli because she thinks her full name sounds too… French.”

“Is she French?”

“No. Uruguayan.” I cleared my throat. “Of course she’s French.”

My brain always split in two in moments like this; the prideful side, always trying to set myself apart from him and the people orbiting around him, and the younger me, the one that only knew how to be kind to him. The one that still admired him, and still believed that, someday, she might be like him.

That maybe one day she would be enough to fill his shoes.

Those two halves played tug-of-war. Like right now.

“Really?” He pulled me out of it. “I didn't notice her accent.”

“Because she doesn’t like it.”

The tiny me didn’t like being cold to her “big brother,” but still preferred that kind of response instead of the sharper ones I had thrown at him before.

“Do you know why?” But of course he insisted on connecting with me.

Because, perfect as he was, he couldn’t comprehend anger. Not at him. Not from me.

Right?

“Why do you care so much about Juliette all of the sudden?”

“Because she’s the first female friend you’ve had in… well, forever.” His stomach twitched with a tiny laugh. “It makes me happy, honestly.” His face looked like he’d just nailed something. Or like that was his plan all along.

“That’s the only reason?”

Suddenly, the air shifted. I decided to blame the storm clouds instead of the weird little smile on Caleb’s face, or my own nosy curiosity.

“Yeah, what else would it be?”

“She’s pretty…” and she likes you, but I swallowed that last part down. It wasn't me who had to tell him, but Juli. I didn't wanted to have a problem with her.

“...no.” That tiny smirk came back, brighter this time. “Don’t tell me you’re—”

“Jealous?” I raised an eyebrow, putting a hand between us, preventing him from getting closer. “No. Stop projecting.”

But he grabbed my wrist and stepped forward anyway.

I didn’t even try to hide my annoyed groan when he ruffled my hair.

“You’re jealous!” he laughed, then he bent down so he was eye-level with me. “I still wanna know why. I remember tellin' you I wasn’t lookin' for a girlfriend or anything. Why would I suddenly change my mind?”

“How would I know?” I shrugged. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person ye…” I abruptly cut off what was going to be a longer explanation.

Maybe he was one of those asexuals who wasn’t into anyone, and I was being a jerk invalidating him.

My pride made a face like it’d sucked a lemon, but it didn’t matter now.

“No means no. Your words.”

Any other time, I would’ve hated him for using my own argument against me. But not today.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” I felt like a master of deception when I grabbed the eraser and started erasing the board, when in reality I was just trying to put some distance between us... “That’s the big, important thing you had to tell me?”

“No…” He moved away too. “It’s about your absences. The principal called me in to talk about it.”

Of course he did. Why bother needing a responsible adult when you’ve got Caleb playing the role of everything?

Not that I should complain. I’d rather a thousand times over have him find out than Grandma. No need to pile more onto her tired shoulders.

Even if Caleb's were as tired as hers.

I sighed. “It doesn’t affect my grades, Caleb. I study on my own.” I gestured vaguely outside the room. “Ask my teachers, they will tell you I always get an eight or higher on midterms.”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head and sighing again, same as before. “And I’m glad.”

“But…”

“But that’s not the problem,” he finished for me.

“Then what is?”

“That’s what I want you to tell me.”

And he came closer again. I didn’t try to stop him, but I ignored him as I kept scrubbing the board.

Now it was me avoiding his eyes.

“Pipsqueak.”

“What?”

“Answer me.” He asked quietly. “Please.”

“Answer what?”

“Why are you skipping class?”

He shamelessly took the eraser from my hand and started doing it himself, easily reaching spots I’d have to climb on something to get to.

“Why is it even a big deal?” I made a face. “It doesn’t affect my grades, why is the principal even concern about? Don’t people do that at home? Home study or something like that?”

“Is that what you want?” He set the eraser down. “To study from home? I could help, like when we were kids.”

“What? No.” I shook my head quickly. “My friends are here, and if I leave they’ll kick me off the soccer team too.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing, Caleb,” I muttered. His persistence was wearing me down. At this rate, he’d dig the truth out of me, so better to give him a piece of it first, right? “I just… like going at my own pace.”

“Explain.”

Of course, I ended up spilling everything as soon as I saw his puppy dog face.

“I don’t like the classes.” I sighed, leaning against the board, looking out the window. I noticed I could already smell the petrichor. “I don’t like how they treat you… or how they teach. They either look at you like you’re a lost cause or a genius they just discovered. There’s no in-between.” I gestured at my face, my whole self. “They look at me like I’m an idiot if I don’t do things their way.”

“You’re not an idiot,” he cut in.

“I know!” I nodded, locking eyes with him.

Beautiful eyes.

I wished mine were half as mesmerizing. That way he'd get lost in them too.

“But they don’t,” I went on. “And going to class just makes it worse. That's what they see when they look at me, and idiot. I saw it on their faces.”

“You never skip Miss Reed’s class,” he pointed out. It’d clearly been eating at him. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I do.” It was raining now. “She’s the art teacher. Her whole class is literally about giving everyone space and encouraging their own expression,” I repeated her words because I believed them. “She doesn’t look at you like you’re stupid. Sometimes she doesn't even look at you, she just lets you be... and I guess that's what I need. My space.”

“Pips…”

He looked uncomfortable. Sad.

He didn’t know how to handle this, and fair enough, he shouldn’t have to. But it frustrated him anyways.

The older we got, the harder it was to take care of each other. I’d stopped trying a while ago. He wasn’t the type to give up.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

I didn’t want his pity. Or his sad puppy eyes.

I wanted him shining, even if it blinded me. Even if it made me sick sometimes.

But I liked the way it felt when his attention was on me.

“Take me home,” I said.

“I'd love to but...” he pointed out like we hadn’t both seen the rain already. “Better to wait a little.”

“Caleb.”

“Neither of us brought an umbrella,” he reminded me. “Don’t be dumb.”

“And you don’t be—” a what? A coward? Him? The most selfless, infuriatingly caring person ever? “mean. You were the one who kept us here until it started raining, and I’m hungry. And antibodies don’t grow stronger with cuddles and kisses.”

He snorted, then cupped my face with the kind of softness you’d use for… a child.

It pissed me off, I mean it, but when he kissed my forehead, I leaned into it.

“I’ll cook you something when we get there,” he murmured against my skin. “Okay?”

[bisexualiteaa]

would it be alright if you were to write a fluff(maybe smut?) hancock x reader who has adhd who's just overwhelmed with quests and doesn't know which one to do first? Lol please and thank you:)

Of the People, For the People

John Hancock x ADHD!GN Reader (FLUFF!!)

CW: reader struggles with their ADHD, John thinks it’s cute, cursing, guilt, restlessness, slight OOC Hancock, slight suggestive themes towards the end, fluff, possible grammatical/spelling errors, briefly proof read

AN: as someone with ADHD this ask actually really hit home. It was half the reason why I could never start games like Fallout and Skyrim in the first place was because there are so many things you can do, the idea alone was overwhelming to me because I knew it’s start and never finish just about everything pushed my way. Then the TV series came o it and all that changed upon the simple acquirement of a hyperfixation on the ghoul and thus my love for fallout was born! 😂 I am still rather new to Fallout games, lore and such so please be gentle if I have gotten anything wrong, I’m still doing my best at learning everything I can to write these well and properly! But I hope I did your ask some justice with this Anon! Hope you all enjoy some more love for our Mayor Hancock. 🥰

Tag-list: @expirednukacola

“Ugh, there’s just too much to doooo” you whined as you plopped down onto his bed in the state house, exhausted and sore all over from setting up not one, not two, but three whole settlements in one day. Of course it wouldn’t be a day out in the commonwealth if you hadn’t run into monstrosities along the way or people along the way to other settlements who needed other things from you. For instance, there was someone who needed saved from thinking they were a synth and returned to their parents, other people who needed help getting their settlements started, people who needed you to kill some super mutants, people who needed you to eliminate some feral ghouls some place else, and after that you couldn’t even remember if you tried. Thank goodness for your Pip-Boy keeping track of these things or else you feared you’d never remember it all. There was just so much that others, especially Preston, were asking of you to do out here that it was beginning to become just a bit too overwhelming to take on all at once. You loved that you could be help for people, so unfortunately you never really paid your own wellbeing any mind until now that it was at such a detriment you could hardly even think straight, much less accurately hit a target or properly even speak to someone without sounding like intelligence was your dump stat. You wanted ever so badly to be that light for people who had seemed to lose hope because it’s what you would want others to do for you if you were in need. You lived and breathed by that golden rule taught to you so long ago. Come to think of it, the only person who you’d done everything for last that you could remember was Hancock, which was actually how you two ended up together.

“Being commander of the Minutemen will do that to ya, sunshine” Hancock teased, leaning against the door frame as he looked at you, tiredly splayed out on his bed in amusement, finding it funny that the commander of such a large militia could be so…well, you. Anyone else would likely be overwhelmed with power to the point of paranoia, or the opposite and let it go to their head and break them of the person they once were, but you were still yourself through everything. He admired the way you wanted to help people, the way you helped the poor and needy in the ways he wished the rich would do, but he could tell it was taking a clear toll on your wellbeing in doing so. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time you told someone no, or that you flat out just couldn’t help them because he could see that look in your eyes when someone asked you for help. He saw the sympathy, the pain, saw the way you felt so bad knowing that if you didn’t, they likely wouldn’t make it out in the harsh world of the commonwealth. His heart ached for you in that sense, because he remembers a time when he wanted to help everyone in his town that he could, any way he could, hell it was the whole reason he became the mayor of Goodneighbor in the first place. But just like you, he needed someone to make him realize that you can’t do everything, some things just have to play out and fix themselves on their own. “But I think you need to take a break from it for a day or two, give yourself a chance to recoup. You’re working’ yourself to death and I’m startin’ to get worried” he added, walking into the room to join you and he watched you sit up, looking completely defeated and worried at the idea of not helping others or running things for just a day, let alone two but also at the fact that now he was concerned for you. “But they need me, John. If I don’t help them…what would become of them? What kind of leader would I be to just leave them in shambles? I can’t live with the idea of lives lost because of me…” you said with a guilty tone, clearly torn between the idea of helping yourself or helping others, and the sweet innocence of your good natured personality made him smile softly as he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you on his bed.

“Even heros need a vacation, love. Helping people who won’t make it is wonderful, it’s one of the many things I love about you. But people can just as easily be hurt when they’re guided in the wrong direction because the person directing them isn’t taking care of themselves the way they need to. A good leader needs strength sure, but that strength depletes and needs replenished every now and again, and that’s okay” he said, grabbing your hand in his, squeezing it in the hopes to offer you some level of comfort to assure you his words meant no harm, he simply just wanted you to look out for yourself as much as you looked out for others around you. He knew it got through to you when he heard you exhale an audible deep breath you’d been holding in for so long. “I guess, I just…I don’t know. It feels extra difficult for me because I can never stay focused on just one thing. I get started on one project, then someone comes along and I get so side tracked trying to help them that I forget all about where I started! I probably have twenty of these damn missions at least half started before I dropped them for something else entirely. It’s so frustrating and overwhelming because then they all start to pile up, and then I don’t know where to start!” you explained, making him laugh. Who would have ever guessed his big, fearless commander of the Minutemen, partner was easily sidetracked by their ADHD. But he wouldn’t want you any other way. “Yet you completed everything I asked of you with no issue” he pointed out with a smug grin, making you blush at the realization that he noticed that. “Well…yeah. I did it because I liked you and wanted to get closer to you. I was fixated on it because I wanted it to better my chances of being with you, so to me it wasn’t work. It was just doing something that you, someone I care for, asked me to do, so I did it” you admitted bashfully, making him smile at the wholesome reason you gave him. “That’s so fucking cute” Hancock replied as he put his arm around you, pulling you into his side, making you blush even more before covering your face with your hands. “It’s cute until you realize I killed someone for you” you quipped with a grin once you’d moved your hands away to look at him, making him chuckle at your reply. “Made it even” he joked, referring to when Finn tried to haggle you when you first showed up to Goodneighbor. “Fair enough” you responded as you chuckled, but he could still tell that you hadn’t fully come around to the idea yet, something still had its hold on you but at least you started to open up to the idea.

“C’mon, let’s just take the next couple of days to relax. The settlements will be fine, they run pretty well on their own, I’m sure they can survive a day or two without you. Maybe Nick or Codsworth can run ship while you take the time to yourself” he said, making you lean your head against his shoulder as you contemplated it. “Poor Codsworth, I wouldn’t do that to him. He tended to my house for two hundred years despite the absolute state of decay it was in from the explosions, thinking the family would come back any day and it drove him nearly mad. I could only imagine what running settlements would do to him” you said, making him chuckle. “Okay then how ‘bout Nick? He’s traveled with you long enough, he’s a smart guy, I’m sure he could handle it. I’m sure he’d more than understand that you need some time to yourself to get back that good ol’ fighting spirit” he added. “You think so?” You asked skeptically, making him sling his arm around your waist to hold you close and help ease your nerves the best he could. It was times like these that you wished you had the confidence and aloof attitude Hancock had about just about everything. “I know so. Think about it, you set them up, taught them what they know, they already manage pretty well on their own, they got this! Just lay back and relax for a change!” he said, easing your nerves just a little bit more at the idea. For someone who never wanted a leader to be too comfortable, he really wanted you to be, it was strange yet heart warming to see how much he cared about you and wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. So you finally gave in, maybe a couple of days to relax and do what you wanted to do didn’t sound bad after all. Maybe you could enjoy a couple of drinks one night, or hell, maybe enjoy just sleeping in a bed two nights in a row for a change, give your body a rest from sleeping on the cold hard ground in a sleeping bag. And not have to worry about all the things floating around in your mind that need done. That sounded like heaven to you once you convinced yourself with Hancock’s help that it could really be useful. “Okay, but if I do, I can’t just lay in bed all day. I literally can’t, I’ll go crazy” you said, making him laugh, knowing the way you can’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time just on the regular while you’re on the go. “We don’t have to, these couple of days are for what you wanna do sunshine. Though I wouldn’t mind it of course if we spent all of it in bed, but staying in bed all day doesn’t necessarily mean *just* sleeping, ya know” he said, his voice slipping into that characteristic deep, gravelly suggestive tone with a mischievous grin painting his thin, irradiated lips as he pulled you into his side, making you laugh. “John!” You said, seemingly flabbergasted at his reply, but truthfully you hadn’t expected anything less from him. “Oh you know I love it when you yell my name, keep doin’ it sunshine” he said flirtatiously with that ever recognizable smirk painted across his face as he crawled on top of you on the bed, littering your face and neck with kisses through a shared fit of laughter. Maybe a little break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[truth-01001001-liar]

WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @labskeever @sulphuricgrin @moriche and @devilrose thank youuuu :)

No pressure tags: @labskeever @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @cheeseandstrawberrytartlover @moriche @caliblorn and anyone else who’d like to participate!

First off I have some art wips of Wraith, but also a little snippet of a writing wip >:)

—-

From the opening scene of skyrim.The fic doesn’t have a name yet *shrugs*. it might be terrible I don’t have a good gage of good and bad writing. you’ve been forewarned. 👍

“Wait, are you running from it? You- the Bear of Markarth? The Jarl of Windhelm? The man who murdered Torygg and started the civil war? I didn’t think you’d be afraid of anything,” Viir spoke cheerily, as Ralof helped her to her feet, “I heard somewhere that you shouted the High King to death. Shouted. Like dragons do. Can’t you just go have a chat with our new scaly friend out there?” Viir’s wry smile widened when she knew she’d said enough to provoke a response.

“Are you calling me a coward? Let me tell you something, woman. It isn’t bravery, but foolishness that causes a man to run into a battle he knows he won’t win. I can hear the legion out there right now, struggling. I’m no fool. You’re welcome to sprint to your death, but I won’t lead my soldiers to a slaughter.”

Viir began to open her mouth, but Ralof yanked her hurriedly up the steps before more words could escape.

“Up through the tower, let’s go.” He said, toting her along behind him.“What’s wrong with you? Now’s not the time for picking fights, kinsman. Also I thought I heard those damned elves say you were a mage that was good with words or something. I don’t know why, but for some reason I expected you to.. to .. well I expected you to-”

“Not be an ass?” She said, cutting him off.

“Yes!”

“Please Ralof. The only reason the thalmor were so worried about keeping my mouth shut was because the only spell I can cast without my hands is a frenzy spell. I’ve used that spell in the middle of a city before, and they were just worried I’d do it again. It’s how I got in trouble with them in the first place,” Viir bragged, giving Ralof an over the shoulder smirk. He let out a long, exasperated sigh as they walked up the steps. At his annoyance her smile grew even wider.

[batsyforyou]

The Quill

Tags: Magic spells gone wrong, quills, lying, silly idea, she/her

Pairing: Elrond x platonic fem reader

Author's Note: I have Glorfindel turned into an apple, Celegorm a horse, Maglor a harp, Maedhros a sword, and Erestor and Gandalf as pumpkins.

“My Lady!” 

“Hm?” 

Pausing, she looked up from her book watching as Lindir raced over to her. 

“Lindir!” She smiled and shut her book. “What can I do for you?” 

“If you spy Lord Elrond wandering the halls can you ask him to meet me in the library with Erestor? I can’t seem to find him.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

Relieved he bowed to her, wishing her a good day he left down the hall with his robes gracefully flowing behind him. She sighed, she would never get over how beautiful and graceful the elves were.

Humming, she went in search of Elrond making for his office. Knocking twice on the door she waited a moment before opening it a crack and peeking her head in. 

“Elrond? Are you here?” 

Pushing it open she stepped in and looked around. His desk was empty aside from his unfinished papers, a chair had been placed in front and a tray with two cups of tea and biscuits were left. It looked like Elrond had just got up and left in the middle of a meeting. 

Shutting the door behind her, she wandered over and hovered her hand over the food and drink. Well, he had been gone for a while and the food and tea were cold. Sighing she sat in his chair, it was very unlike Elrond to leave his office like this; he usually cleaned up his papers and tidied up before he left. 

Shrugging she mumbled to herself, tapping her fingers against her tongue and grabbing a fresh sheet of paper from his pile. While she was here she might as well leave him a note about Lindir. 

Spying a black feathered quill she picked it up and opened his ink, dripping the quill delicately in the ink she gently scraped off the excess and began to write, 

“Dear Elrond.” She wrote, “When you get back Lindir would like for you to meet him in Erestor’s office. He did not say why. He would have done it in person, but he could not find you.”

At the bottom of her note she signed, “Your friend, Y/n.” 

Dropping the quill she took the note and waved it around to dry the ink. 

The door kicked open and Radagast came stumbling through looking panicked when he saw her. “Ah, Lady Y/n I did not expect to see you here.” He shut the door behind him and clasped his hands behind his back. She frowned, he seemed . . . nervous. 

“Yes, I was just writing Elrond a note for when he comes back.” 

Lifting the paper she waved it around as she showed him. 

The wizard seemed to wince and shifted his weight. “And I am to assume that you used the black quill there?” 

She looked at the quill that still held ink on it and picked it up. “This one?” 

He grimaced and nodded. “Yes, you see, that quill is Elrond.” 

She blinked. “The quill is . . . Elrond?”

He cleared his throat and pulled at his collar, “I do believe that is what I said yes.” 

She sighed. “Radagast, must I remind you that Elrond is an elf? An elf of Noldor decent, a father to three children, a husband, rather tall?” 

He nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know that. But you see I—” He his wiggled his head some, “I—might have made him into the quill.” 

Her heart skipped and she slowly moved her eyes to the quill in her hand and back to him. “You made Elrond… into the quill.” 

He tugged at his beard. “Yes. I was reading an ancient text and was curious to see what would happen if I pointed the spell towards, say a plant, but I’m afraid it had the opposite effect than what I thought.” 

Her mouth dropped, “You're telling me that you turned the Lord of this House into a quill!” 

“Ssh!”  

Looking behind him he raised his hands towards you and gestured for you to be quiet. “Keep your voice down!” 

“Ah!” She shot to her feet, “You turned Elrond into a quill and didn’t tell anyone?” 

He paused and nodded. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!?” 

“Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if I told the elves that I had taken away their leader?”

She gasped horrified, “Taken away?!” Looking at the quill in her hand she asked, “You killed him?! Oh my gosh, have I been using the dead body of an elf to write?” 

“No, no!” The wizard looked mortified at the suggestion. “He is not dead.” 

“Then he is alive?” 

“Well, he should be.” 

“Should be!?”

“It isn’t like the quill has a mouthpiece for which to speak through!” 

Her heart was pounding and she felt light headed. “Wait, can he breathe?” 

She booped the tip of the quill and gasped as she felt wet ink. “Is this his head and the feather his hair!” 

Turning on her heel she raced into the bathroom and turned on the faucet shoving the dirtied part of the quill under the water. 

“Radagast, what if I suffocated him!” 

The wizard came into the room with you as you scrubbed at the quill, watching as the black coloring tainted the water. “It's all right Elrond, I’ll fix it!” 

“If he can breathe, you might be drowning him.” 

Shutting off the water she grabbed the nearby towel and dried off the tip, terrified at the idea. 

“I’m sorry!” 

When dry she held the quill with her palm flat and upright. “Did I hurt him when I, well, used him?” Gosh that sounded wrong.

The wizard shrugged.

“Radagast!” 

“I do not know! For all intensive purposes he is now an inanimate object. He could be aware of what's happening or not.” 

“Except the part where he is a living breathing elf!”

“Ugh!” Shoving past him she went for the door, the wizard following her. “Where are you going?”

She paused by the door, gripping the handle. “To go tell Erestor to call for Gandalf, what else would I be doing?!” 

He reached over and locked the door. 

“Hey!” She cried.

“You can’t tell them.” 

“And why not? They deserve to know!” 

“Can you imagine if word got out? You tell one and soon enough everyone will know that Rivendell is weak! You never know who might be listening.”

She glared at him. “Radagast, Erestor would be the perfect person to tell about this. He is loyal and knows how to run Elrond’s house in his absence.” 

He sighed, “Please just give me a little more time. I believe if I study the book some more, I can reverse the effects before there is even a need to send for Gandalf.” 

“You mean to tell me you haven’t sent for him!?” 

“Just tell them that Elrond is feeling unwell and has retired early for the day.” 

“Radagast, Elrond is an elf! They don’t get sick!”

“And I suppose you have a better idea?!” 

“Anyway, Radagast said that he retired early for the night.” 

Lindir and Erestor looked at each other. “And he asked not to be disturbed?” Lindir asked. 

She nodded, “That's correct.” 

In her hands she cradled the black quill to her like one would a babe, running her thumb over the soft feather. 

Erestor glared at her from his desk, “Fine. I trust we will see him tomorrow.” 

She grimaced. “That is my hope, yes.” 

Lindir frowned, “It is strange he did not tell us.” 

She nodded. “Yes. But I hope he gets all the rest he deserves.”

Masterlist

[bookofmirth]

Hello! I was wondering if you could clarify something for me about acotar mating bonds. Azriel mentions in the bonus chapter that the cauldron could be wrong, and he could actually be Elain’s mate. I’m confused why he’s connecting mating bonds to the cauldron, when the cauldron has never been implied to have created mating bonds before? Rhys had dreams of Feyre when she was a human even if the mating bond only clicked into place for him after she became fae. I interpreted this is meaning that Feyre and Rhys were always mates, the bond just didn’t click into place until she was Made, but the bond itself has nothing to do with the actual cauldron. With Elain and Lucien, I also thought it was obvious that the bond clicks into place right after she is Made not because of the cauldron creating the bond, but because it’s the first time they’re meeting face to face or because she’s now fae. Is there something I’m missing about the link between the cauldron and mating bonds? It has been a few years since i last read the original trilogy

Hello friend! I was actually just writing something about this in the last ask I was answering and held off, but here goes!

Azriel saying "what if the Cauldron is wrong" is him speaking out of desperation. Whether you think he's desperate for Elain or for a mate in general is neither here not there - he's clearly emotional and lonely.

Here is what Rhys says in acowar, when he and Feyre are having a discussion about where bonds come from:

“What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history and often our source of knowledge about the world, doesn't know where mating bonds come from. And this was an actual conversation about where the mating bond comes from, not an offhand comment from someone who is sad and upset.

So why would we take Azriel's words, when in context they are not even having a discussion of how the world works, over the words of Rhys, when he is trying to discuss what he understands about his world and the mating bond with his mate, discussing Elain's mating bond?

Honestly, we've been having this argument for ages. You're right, mates are mates from birth, not after they are Made.

Rhys dreams about Feyre before she even crossed the wall.

Cassian was drawn to Nesta even when she was a human.

Lucien tried to help Elain before she was Made by the Cauldron. He literally broke a spell trying to go to her.

And one reason people think Ruhn and Lidia are mates is because they were able to find one another psychically before they even met in person.

There are probably other examples of this, that's just off the top of my head. Anyone can feel free to add on!

One more point that I mentioned in the last ask, and it wasn't mine but I can't remember who said this initially - the Cauldron made the acotar world, yeah? If the Cauldron makes mating bonds, then there likely wouldn't be mating bonds in Erilea or Midgard because the Cauldron is in the acotar world. It's something bigger, more far-reaching, that creates mating bonds.

But let's be real - sjm is what makes mating bonds. She decides "hey this couple is going to be endgame" and then it just works, magically, which is probably why Rhys didn't have a real reason to explain them. And we have to have the contrast of mating bonds that are incompatible to highlight the fact that, despite fate, people do have a choice in her stories.

The fact that people can say "no", is what makes the "yes" meaningful.

I don't expect this argument to go anywhere any time soon, unfortunately. But I can tell you that hofas only reinforces the fact that sjm loves mating bonds, that once she mates a couple they are endgame, and people are just going to be in denial for however long they feel like. I'm not going to tag that as a spoiler because hofas was basically just sjm doing the same things she's always done, no surprises in terms of the big things she likes to write in romantic relationships.

[animeniacss]

Seoksoo - imperfect Part 1 - Chapter 12 - Cramped, Nervous, and Desperate

Synopsis: Lee Seokmin likes a lot of things: karaoke, stuffed animals, his friends, his family (when they're not at each other's throats), and when things go according to plan. It's perfect that way. That is...until Joshua Hong, the Education Department TA, stumbles into his view one day and suddenly Seokmin has to start facing the fact that maybe not everything in life will be perfect...but with Joshua, that might just be ok.

Tags: College!AU, ActingMajor!Seokmin, Teacher!Joshua, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Side GyuCheol, Side JunHao, Side Verkwan, Other Idol appearances, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Domestic Violence (not between the main couple), Joshua is a dork 90% of the time, (More Tags will be Added as needed)

Length: approx. 6.5k words

Chapter 12 - Cramped, Nervous, and Desperate

--- Three Years Prior -----

“I bet there will be tons of cool college parties.” Eunkyung grinned from behind her soup spoon. Seokmin leaned back in his seat, smirking a bit.

“When have you ever pictured me as a party animal?”

Eunkyung reached for more rice, setting it into her bowl. “I think you’ll find a whole new side of yourself at college, Oppa. You’ll come back at the end of the term a new person.”

“You’re going to waste your entire college career getting drunk at parties?” His mother chimed in, causing both of her children to look in their direction. Seokmin set his chopsticks down.

“Well, no, but Mingyu told me-.”

“Mingyu’s a good kid. He doesn’t strike me as the party type, and neither do you.”

“When I’m in college, I’m going to party all the time.” Eunkyung grinned, mouth full of rice. Their mother shot her a disapproving look for her talking with a mouth full of rice. She quickly swallowed it before adding: “What? Tell me you didn’t party in college.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m saying you two can’t.”

Eunkyung gasped. “That’s like, total hypocrisy, Mom.”

“No, it’s called wisdom. Eunkyung, you’re barely 15. You can’t go around talking about hypocrisy.”

“Do you even know how to spell it?” Seokmin grinned at his sister from across the table. Eunkyung scoffed.

“Very funny.” She gathered up her empty plates and brought them into the kitchen to begin washing the dishes. Seokmin took another bite of his meal as his mother turned to him once more.

“Don’t go to parties, okay, Seokmin? You never know what someone’s going to put in your drink or if someone’s going to get in a fight. Just don’t do it. If you want to have a party, have it at your apartment. I’ll even host one here for all your friends. Okay? That way I know you’re safe.”

         He studied her expression. The wrong words could lead to her getting upset. So, he simply nodded with a quick: “Okay, Mom. I’m not a party person, anyway.”

His reassurance comforted her with a gentle smile, and Seokmin felt secure again. “At least one of my kids will turn out alright.” She reached out, putting her hand on Seokmin’s arm. He smiled a bit, nodding his head. She stared at him with the same intensity he had burned into his brain for the past 18 years of his life.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         Seokmin didn’t really like parties, especially on campus. He didn’t hate them, but he preferred to keep his distance. He didn’t hang out with the party crowd, and his friends only drank when they were in a safe and comfortable environment. A lot of students on campus came to party on the weekends, and with Study Week and finals creeping up on them within a month and a half, parties were being thrown all over campus, by every single group of people.

         Seokmin, however, loved Seungkwan. And Seungkwan asked him to come to the party being held by some of Hansol’s friends.

         “I won’t know anyone except for Hansol. What if he leaves me?”

         “Why would he leave you?” Seokmin looked down at his notebook, still full of small blips of ideas for his final monologue.

         “He wouldn’t, but what if we get separated?”

         “I’m sure that won’t happen.” Seungkwan wrapped his arms around Seokmin’s back, nuzzling into him.

         “Hyung, please! I’m begging you. Mingyu-Hyung and Seungcheol-Hyung will be off making out somewhere the entire night. I need someone to help me. Please.”

         With this plea buried into his chest, Seokmin was currently sitting on the floor of Joshua’s bedroom, staring at himself in the mirror as Nayeon brushed through his hair. Seungkwan and he had agreed to head to their apartment when they discovered – through Seungkwan’s very subtle sleuthing – that Nayeon and her friends were also invited. If Nayeon was invited, Jeonghan was too. And if Jeonghan was, then Joshua was tailing along somehow.

         Seokmin glanced up at Joshua as he sat on the edge of his bed. Even minutes before leaving for a party, he was working on something in his school textbook. His eyes darted between his book and his computer, hands flying away on the keys. In a pair of tight leather pants and a vibrant, marigold cut off, Joshua looked completely different than he usually did. His fluffy sweaters and professional slacks, or even his ripped jeans and mismatched combat boots were merely one side of him, it seemed.

         “Seokmin, are you excited?” Nayeon smiled down at him from their spot in front of the mirror. “This is your first party on campus, right?”

         “Oh, yeah.” He smiled up at Nayeon, and she only grinned wider. “Do you go to them a lot?”

         “Yeah. My friend Jeongyeon and I love going to the parties when we can.”

         “It’s only because you can get a good story if someone throws up.” Jeonghan smirked, resting against the door frame.

         “I would never post an article about someone at a party.” Nayeon gasped, offense written on her face. Seokmin’s eyes darted up to a grinning Jeonghan.

         “But you’d never forget it happened, either.” He said. Nayeon nodded her head, glad he understood her true intentions before turning her attention to Joshua.

         “Could you stop working for five minutes and finish getting ready?” Joshua’s eyes shot up from his screen, and Seokmin instinctively looked down at his lap.

         “Well, I wouldn’t have to be if you guys didn’t force me to go to this party.”

         “We didn’t force you to do anything.” Jeonghan said. “Your boyfriend asked.” Seokmin looked up at Jeonghan, who had a finger pointed directly at him. “We simply agreed you should come and encouraged it.”

         Seokmin closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of the brush Nayeon was tugging through his hair. He could hear Seungkwan beside them, putting on eye glitter that Nayeon offered to him.

         “Seokmin-Hyung, you should put some of this on.” He said, handing off the glitter. “Don’t you think it brings out my eyes?”

         “Hansol won’t be able to stop looking at you.” Nayeon grinned, earning a content hum from a very eager Seungkwan. She pulled the brush back, and Seokmin’s eyes followed her as she exited the room. “I need to finish getting my make-up on. Then, we’ll be ready.” Jeonghan waved her off as she disappeared into the bathroom.

         “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Joshua-Hyung.” He peered up at Joshua from his spot on the floor. Joshua looked down, his hair falling over his eyes a bit from the angle.

         “Nah.” His face softened. “It’s fine. I should probably get some air in my lungs.”

         “It’s been days since you did anything after school and tutoring.” Jeonghan said. “Seriously.” Seokmin looked up at Joshua again as he closed up his computer and book, setting them on the side of his bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he looked down at Seokmin and smiled reassuringly. 

“I can stay for a bit.”

         “Okay.” Seokmin was kind of hoping Joshua remained adamant about staying home, if only so he could stay with him instead of going. However, when Nayeon popped her head back in, face full of beautiful make-up, Seokmin knew there was no going back.

         “We need to take a picture.” She said quickly. She immediately pointed her camera at herself and Jeonghan, grinning while Jeonghan flashed a little peace sign behind her head. Seungkwan was next, and he pulled Seokmin into the shot. Seokmin immediately smiles a bit, putting a heart on his cheek like his favorite idols in shows do. Seungkwan offered a peace sign and Nayeon puckered her lips. “Cute!” She gasped. “Joshua, c’mon.”

         “Ahh, come on.” He sighed. Nayeon rolled her eyes, simply pulling him over as the group bunched together for a group shot. Nayeon stretched the camera out as far as she could. “Get in, get in.” When Joshua leaned forward, his chest pressed against Seokmin’s shoulder. He knew his cheeks would be red in the photo, but he simply put a peace sign up beside Seungkwan’s and the photo was snapped.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “Aahhh, I’m nervous.” Seungkwan whined, shaking his head to hopefully stir up any of the confidence hiding in his body.

         “Why? You and Hansol seem to be getting along great.” Seokmin said. “Do you not think so?”

         “I mean, we do; we’ve talked in class a bunch and gotten coffee or studied in the library together. I think we’ve become pretty good friends.” Seungkwan saw the house coming into view, and he gripped Seokmin’s arm tighter. “But this is much more intimate. Close quarters, low lights, drinking.”

         “Will someone call the cops on the place?” Seokmin peered up at the building. They had been walking from their parking space a few blocks away, and Seokmin could already feel his legs getting heavy. He took a deep breath. “I’m sure most people here aren’t even old enough to drink.”

         Jeonghan spun his keys in his hand, whistling. “Don’t worry about that, Seokmin.” He draped his arm around Nayeon, as she was on the phone in hopes of finding her friends scattered through the party. She seemed to catch one waiting outside, and her hand flew up in excitement to flag them down. “And that’s my cue, guys.” Jeonghan called as he got tugged ahead. Joshua snorted when Jeonghan was heard begging his girlfriend to slow down just a bit.

         “Alright, Seungkwan, let’s get your man.” Joshua patted the younger male’s shoulder in support. He stood between the duo, leading them into the party doors.

         The second Seokmin stepped inside, he felt his chest tighten. The music pumping through the house felt like it was squeezing Seokmin. He took a deep breath, but it hurt, so he exhaled. The walls were lined with college students, some already drunk and grinding on the person closest to them. Seokmin watched a couple run up the stairs, hand in hand. He caught a glint in the girl’s eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. He turned to Joshua, who was pointing straight ahead. Following his gaze, Hansol was at the end of the hall. He had a drink against his lips and was chatting with another, slightly taller male. He was fixing a set of glasses, hand in his short black hair as he smiled at Hansol. Whatever they were talking about, they looked very interested in one another. Even amongst the chest crushing music and musty smell, Seokmin saw Seungkwan’s lips dip into a large frown.

         “Woah. What’s with that face?” Seokmin asked. He pressed closer to Joshua’s side, the taller one placing his hand on the small of Seokmin’s back to steady him.

         “Jeon Wonwoo.” He scoffed. “He’s a junior in the Computer Sciences Department.” Seungkwan groaned. “He’s so cool. I heard he’s like, totally famous on Twitch.”

         “You’re kidding.” Joshua’s eyes widened. He glanced down at Seokmin, who only shrugged.

         “Yeah. Hansol mentioned him a few times. What do I do?!”

         “Go talk to him anyway.” Seokmin said. “Didn’t he invite you?”

         “Well, yeah, but-.”

         “All I can say is Nayeon will be pissed that you used her eye glitter and didn’t at least go make a move.” Seungkwan sighed, nodding his head.

         “You’re right.” Seungkwan nodded his head. “I have to go and make myself known.”

         “Fighting, Kwannie!” Seokmin pumping his fists in excitement, Joshua following the motion beside him. Seungkwan shuffled through the crowds, and the older duo watched as he caught Hansol’s attention.

         “Look how he’s looking at Seungkwan.” Joshua said, motioning to the wide-eyed look Hansol gave their friend. Seokmin took a second to scan over Joshua one more time. He was close enough to see the veins in Joshua’s arms poking out since it was so cold, yet Joshua didn’t leave the house with a jacket. “He’s so smitten.”

         “Yeah.” Seokmin said. He pressed a hand to Joshua’s arm, finally capturing his attention. “Aren’t you cold in a tank top? It’s November.”

         Joshua shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” Seokmin turned his attention to Seungkwan once again, who was eyeing Wonwoo up and down as they talked with a very seemingly oblivious Hansol.

         “He has no idea Seungkwan’s plotting Wonwoo’s death right now, does he?” Seokmin asked. Joshua cackling, nodding his head.

         “No fucking clue.” Joshua put his hand on his hip. “Why don’t we go in and get something to drink?” Seokmin looked around the room once more, before nodding his head. Hand still pressed to the small of Seokmin’s back, they headed further into the party. Seokmin made sure to tap Seungkwan’s shoulder and motion where they were headed. Seungkwan was already looking at Hansol with hearts in his eyes and Seokmin wondered if any words even registered in his brain.

         Joshua grabbed them a few drinks from one of the many coolers scattered through the house for easy access. He motioned a beer to Seokmin, who shook his head.

         “I don’t drink.” He shouted over the loud music.

         “Oh, shit. Sorry.” Joshua knelt back down, replacing the beer bottle for a water bottle. He set his own bottle on the counter beside them, snapping the plastic cap open and passing it to Seokmin. He took the bottle with a smile.

         “Thanks.” He called, putting the drink to his lips. Joshua did the same when he got his own open. Seokmin looked around at the sea of drunk and possibly horny college students. He wondered if Eunkyung attended parties like this. Their mother would blow a gasket if she was. Seokmin wondered how she would react if she found out Seokmin was at a party, even if he was drinking water instead of alcohol and pressed up against someone that he cared for rather than some random person he had just met in a drunk daze. “I’m not a big party person.”

         “Me either.” Joshua said against the top of the bottle. “But it’s nice to get out and do it sometimes.” Seokmin nodded, eyes falling to a couple grinding on one another to the music, only a few feet away. Their arms were wrapped around one another, hips swaying to the beat that was pounding in his ears. He turned away when they began making out. He felt Joshua pull him closer to his side, offering a smile. Even under the dim lights, Joshua looked perfect. Seokmin really wanted to kiss him, but the setting of his first kiss with this guy being at a crowded party? No. “You look overwhelmed.” Joshua asked, leaning forward a bit. His voice practically brushed Seokmin’s ear, shivering despite being packed in a hot room. “Are you okay?”

         “Yeah.” Seokmin turned to him a bit. When he did his eyes immediately fell on how close their lips were. Something in Seokmin’s chest stopped. He studied Joshua’s lips for a minute. It felt as if the rest of the party had stopped, waiting at a standstill for something to happen between these two.

         He really wanted to kiss Joshua.

         The hand on Seokmin’s waist tightened a bit, making his breath catch in his throat. Hoping to avoid whatever gaze Joshua was looking at him with, Seokmin’s eyes dipped down to the necklace adoring his collarbones. Even in this stunning outfit, little plastic beads poking out from underneath. His finger reached up, wrapping around the beads gently. He rubbed a thumb along one of the clear beads laid right in the center.

         “Is this new?” Despite Seokmin’s voice rising to be heard over the music, it was still delicate and trembling. Joshua took a second to process the question, finally nodding his head.

         “I couldn’t sleep last night.” He said.

         Seokmin felt his body press closer to Joshua when a couple staggered past, not even turning to utter a half-ass apology. Seokmin gulped. Each beat of the music felt as if it were crushing him into a smaller ball. He wanted to simply curl up and escape from here. But his only option was to press closer to Joshua, who was happy to oblige, bringing him closer into his circle. Seokmin felt a burning sensation in his throat. Gripping the little plastic beads as if they were the last string keeping him from falling into an endless abyss, Seokmin knew he needed to say something else to distract himself.

         “You don’t sleep a lot.” Smooth.

         Joshua’s nose crinkled, nodding his head. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead, I guess.”

         “You’ll get sick if you say that, you know.”

         “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.” He leaned closer, breath tickling Seokmin’s ear like the kiss of an angel. “Thanks for worrying about me, but this isn’t really ‘dance party’ conversation, you know.”

         “I-.” Seokmin shivered. “I don’t really know much, ‘dance party conversation’.” His eyes flickered up to Joshua’s as he took another sip of his drink. Even when he wasn’t looking at Seokmin, his eyes sent shivers down his spine. He felt like he’d turn to mush at any second, forming into a puddle at Joshua’s feet. His neck craned to the large dance floor where most had congregated. Immediately, his eyes locked on Mingyu. He had arrived with Seungcheol early on in the night, both being friends with the host. Seokmin saw his shoulder-length, black hair bouncing under the colored lights with Seungcheol, head back and laughter that was drowned out by the music. He looked happy, they looked happy. No worries in the back of their mind, just enjoying the night together, in one another’s arms, like it was the only place they wanted to be.

         The worst things happen at college parties. You never know who will be there, or what they’ll try to do.

         “Do you want to dance?” Seokmin turned to see Joshua as he set down his beer bottle. Seokmin immediately noticed barely two sips were taken from it. “You’re staring at the dance floor so intensely.”

         “There’s…” Seokmin paused. “I just saw a friend in the crowd. There’s a lot of people.” Joshua nodded. 

         The duo watched the party go on around them. Seokmin tried to focus on the silence that settled between them, hoping even a little drop of it would calm his nerves. He felt he should be on the dance floor, hips pressed up against Joshua because that was expected. There must be someone who has seen the both of them just standing there, wondering why the hell they were even at the party to begin with if they didn’t intend to enjoy it.

         Joshua must be having a miserable time, just standing in one spot.

“Uhm-.” Seokmin’s voice turned the older male’s attention back to him. “If you want to, then-.”

         “No, it’s okay.” Joshua’s hips pressed against the counter top, elbow resting on the marble surface as he scanned the crowd. “I’m fine right here.” His fingers tightened on Seokmin’s back one final time, closing all the space between them. Seokmin felt his knee press against Joshua’s thigh. “Besides, my dancing skills could put all of these guys to shame. I’m doing them a favor.”

         Finally, Seokmin offered a laugh that blended with the beat. “Oh, I see.”

         “Yeah. I could wipe the entire dance floor with my one signature move.”

         “I kind of want to see it.” Seokmin admitted. Joshua shook his head.

         “It’s way too much. It might melt your brain from all of its amazingness.” Seokmin’s laughter continued, covering his mouth as his head fell forward, pressing against Joshua’s chest. Almost immediately as it did, his head shot up right, cheeks tinted red. Amused by the reaction, Joshua leaned closer. “Hm? You okay?”

         “Fine. I’m fine.” Seokmin squeaked. Joshua nodded, smiling in a way that made Seokmin feel like he was caught in a lie.

         I really want to kiss him, this is insanity. How on earth do I go about doing that? What do I do? What. Do. I. Do?!

         Joshua tongue ran along the inside of his bottom lip, Seokmin catching the entire thing since he couldn’t peel his eyes away from that part of his perfect face.

         Is that his sign he wants to kiss me? I can’t tell. What if I go for it and make a fool of myself? I’ll never live it down. I’ll never live it down.

         “Seokmin.” Joshua breathed.

         Do I even want my first kiss with him to be at some party? What will that make me? Will he think I want to do other stuff? Don’t you do other stuff at a party?

         “Seokmin.” His voice was a bit firmer.

         “Hm?” Seokmin could barely feel the sound leave his lips.

         “You’re squeezing my necklace like it owes you money.” Seokmin’s eyes finally steadied, dropping from Joshua’s lips to the vice grip he had on the plastic beads. They were lifted off his neck from the force of his grip.

         His grip loosened completely, allowing the jewelry to fall back against Joshua’s skin. “Sorry…” Joshua only shrugged.

         Unsure if it was a blessing or a curse, the second a new voice flooded their space, Seokmin’s shoulders immediately dropped. He and Joshua turned to see Seungkwan and Hansol approaching, down one Wonwoo and up one arm around Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seokmin was about to say something, but Seungkwan beat him to it.

         “Are we interrupting something?” Seungkwan asked, eyeing the lack of space between the two.

         Joshua glanced down at Seokmin for a second, before replying. “Not at all. Is this Hansol?”

         Seokmin watched as the two immediately fell into proper greetings. Once Joshua said his full name, Hansol’s eyes lit up.

         “Shit, where are you from?”

         “LA. You?”

         “New York.”

         “I’ve been there a few times.”

         Seokmin couldn’t understand what they were saying. However, even if they were speaking in Korean, he knew he’d still have no idea. His head held the entire ocean, waves crashing into his skull and making him feel all kinds of motion sickness. He couldn’t steady his eyes anymore. The uncertainty made his breath hitch.

         A hand squeezed his, and when he looked up, he saw Seungkwan. His eyes fell to the shorter of the two and the curious glint in his eyes. It was a look that made Seokmin’s stomach knot up in ways he didn’t know were possible.

         “I’m stealing him.” Seungkwan called to the others. Joshua offered Seokmin one smile, before turning back to chat with Hansol about something. He heard the word ‘America’ and ‘teaching’, both words he had heard Joshua use in English before.

         Seungkwan nestled the both of them in a corner, right beside the sliding door that led outside. Seokmin leaned against it, eyes glazed over as he looked down at Seungkwan.

         “I saw the two of you getting hot and heavy.” Seungkwan grinned. “I was going to give you both space, but Hansol wanted to meet Joshua-Hyung, and-.” Seokmin listened as Seungkwan began rambling about his interaction with Wonwoo and Hansol. It was all he could do: listen. Words were not forming in his brain much less his mouth.

         You shouldn’t be at a party, Lee Seokmin.

         At least one of my kids was supposed to turn out okay.

         Seokmin covered his mouth as his mother’s voice coursed through his brain. It was imaginary, but it felt so clear, as if she were standing right beside him. His mind felt light, yet heavy. Any moment he would fall over and shatter all over the floor of this stranger’s home.

         You went to a party and didn’t even sleep with him? Lame, Oppa.

Then, Seokmin’s mind spoke up; his own thoughts torturing him relentlessly rather than the assumed thoughts of his family.

If they find out I went to a party at least they’ll make up long enough to gang up on me next….

         “I’m going to throw up.” Seokmin choked behind his hand. Seungkwan’s mouth closed almost immediately when he felt his bicep get gripped.

         “Did you drink that much already? I didn’t expect you to be-.”

         “Seungkwan, I’m going to throw up.” He choked out again, voice shaky and desperate. His grip on Seungkwan’s bicep tightened. “I can’t breathe, I-.”

         His friend’s eyes widened. “Okay. Okay, okay.” Seungkwan grabbed the handle of the sliding door and pulled it open, hitting the duo with a huge gust of wind that almost made Seokmin fall over. “Hyung?” He called, turning his head to the duo still chatting by the kitchen counter. Seokmin only caught Joshua’s gaze for a second before stepping outside. He immediately knelt down in the grass. Everything around him was static; the voices, the footsteps, the chatter. Nothing settled in his ears as he coughed into his hands. His stomach refused to throw up like he had thought, leaving him violently coughing into his hand to get whatever was burning in the pit of his stomach to go away. Every few seconds he gasped for air, but the huge intake of it only left him coughing more.

When he finally managed to stop himself from coughing so much, a shaky hand pressed against his mouth, thumbing away whatever tears were streaming down his cheeks when they fell onto his skin. Seokmin looked up at the night sky overhead, hand tangled in his hair. He wanted to focus on the stars; connect summer constellations in fall because that felt so much easier than this. His throat burned something so intense he thought it would leave a hole in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but the lack of air only resulted in another round of frantic coughs.

Tired from holding his head up, it fell onto his knees, forehead digging into the bones. The world was still shaking, static buzzing in his ears no matter how many deep breaths he took or how tightly he gripped the base of his hair. He felt as if time was at a standstill and the play button was jammed. No matter how hard he pressed it, slammed the recording device, or reset the machine, he was stuck here forever.

         “Seokmin.” His name being called made him look up to see Joshua staring down at him. A hand was outstretched to him, and he was smiling. Seokmin sniffled, wiping his eyes one more time in hopes the tears would stop falling for good. He reached out and took Joshua’s hand, allowing him to get back on his feet. Steadying himself up right made his head pound, and he let out a deep breath. “I’ll take you home, okay?” Seokmin was silent for a minute. When Joshua offered a little smile, Seokmin felt the play button finally snap back into place. The static slowly became a dull ringing in the back of his ears as it faded from his brain all together. Seokmin nodded, eyes casting to the floor as he squeezed Joshua’s hand tighter.

         “Okay.” He said.

“Hyung...” Seokmin looked over just as Seungkwan came to his side. His glitter was a bit messy, eyes glassy from what looked to be his own set of worried tears brushed away by his hand. Hansol was on the other side of him, handing Seokmin the water he had left by them in the kitchen. Seokmin took it with a barely audible thank you, pressing it to his lips. “What happened?”

         Seokmin shook his head. “I’m okay.” He said softly. “Don’t worry about me.”    

         “Want me to come home with you too? So you’re not alone?”

         “No, you wanted to come. Have a good time. I’ll probably just….” He coughed into his hand. “Go to sleep.” Seungkwan looked over at Joshua sadly, rubbing his arms as the chilly fall air began picking up.

         “Don’t worry, I got it.” Joshua assured. He peered to the side of the house. “Come on, let’s use the side gate so we don’t have to go back inside.”

         Seokmin couldn’t even nod in response, quietly following Joshua out of the house without so much as another glance to Seungkwan and Hansol. He felt as if he was in a trance, the play button just going on a continuous loop with no stop in sight.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         The ride back home was silent. Seokmin didn’t even have the energy to question if Joshua should be driving after drinking half a beer. His head was lolled against the window, looking at the blur of the world passing him by. The music was playing softly, but Seokmin barely had a voice to hum any of the beats.

         By the time they got back to the apartments, Seokmin was unsure how many times he dozed in and out of consciousness, each time his eyes startled awake being a painful reminder that he was in fact still in the same day. There was no fast forward button on the machine in his head, and it almost made him want to cry again.

         Joshua led him up to the apartment without a word, only a quiet hand on Seokmin’s back to guide him. Seokmin could barely handle the touch, but had little strength to prevent it. Using Seungkwan’s spare key – which Seungkwan hid flawlessly in a very cute flower pot outside their door – the duo stepped back into the apartment. Seokmin didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he gasped for air in the front entrance, chest tightening as he looked around.

         “Want a water?” Hearing Joshua’s voice almost scared Seokmin back to reality. Almost. Just enough to remember that they were in his apartment.

         “I’ll get-.” Seokmin was cut off by Joshua, who shook his head.

         “No. You’ll sit.” He motioned to the couch. He headed to the fridge to find some drinks, and Seokmin could only nod.

         “Okay…” he said. Barely kicking off his shoes and shuffling them side by side, he made his way to the couch and sank into it. He hoped with enough force he would be enveloped by it and leave his plane of existence forever. He still could barely breathe, his heart feeling as if it were being gripped in someone’s fist.

         “Here.” Joshua made his way back with a glass of water for the both of them. Seokmin took his with a nod and sipped it. “I would’ve offered tea but, I don’t know where your tea stuff is.”

         Seokmin almost choked on his drink. “Sorry.”

         “Don’t be.”

         Seokmin looked over at Joshua as he sipped his own drink, kicking one leather-clad leg over the other as he got himself comfortable. “You don’t-.” Seokmin hesitated. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

         “Nonsense.” Joshua shook his head. “I’ll stay for a bit. Do you really strike me as the type to drop you off and bail?”

         Seokmin shook his head. “No.” Another sip of water down his throat. The burning sensation and its aftermath still tore apart his esophagus with each sip that he swallowed.

         The duo sat in silence for a while, Joshua unsure of what to say and Seokmin unable to say much of anything at all. He set his water on the coffee table, leaning back on his couch and closing his eyes. A deep exhale shook his body. “Are you feeling better now that we left?”

         “A little…” Seokmin turned his head to look at him.

         “You really don’t like parties, hm?” Joshua smiled.

         Seokmin’s lips curled up in a small smile. “No, I don’t. My mom told me I shouldn’t go to college parties.”

         “Why?”

         “She told me that it’s dangerous because you don’t know who is there. You don’t know if the punch has been laced with something or if the cute guy you’re talking to put something in your drink when he went to grab it.”

         Joshua nodded. “I didn’t do that last part.”

         “I know.”

         “Laxatives in the punch would have been funny, though.” Seokmin chuckled a bit, watching as Joshua downed the rest of his water and set his own empty glass on the table.

         “My mom will kill me when she finds out I went to one. I told her I wouldn’t.”

         “Will she find out?”

         “I’ll tell her when I talk to her, probably.”

         “....Does she have to know?”

         Seokmin looked at Joshua. “I tell my mom everything.”

         A pause from Joshua, arms crossed and visible confusion on his face. “Even if you’ll get in trouble?”

         Seokmin didn’t know how to answer that. He sat up straight, pressing his lips together tightly in thought. “Sorry.” Joshua chimed in. “It’s not my place to assume things about your family life.”

         “No, I…It’s okay.” He looked down at his lap. His hands were red from the cold air that enveloped them on the entire walk to and from the car that chilly night. He pressed them together to see if they’d stick together, but no such luck as they pulled apart with a little pop. Suddenly, the couch shifted, and when Seokmin looked over, Joshua was sitting beside him.

         “You have something in your hair.” He said. “May I?” Seokmin nodded, eyes trailing up as Joshua’s hand tangled in his locks. For the few seconds Joshua’s hand found a home in his hair, he closed his eyes. Joshua’s finger plucked whatever he saw, scratching his scalp. Fingers dragged along the locks and Seokmin felt nice. For the first time all night. Finally, he was able to take a breath that didn’t make it feel as if he had swallowed a broken glass cup. His hands had stopped shaking and his body felt tingly; but in a good way.

         He pulled out a few pieces of fuzz, flicking them away and smiling. “There.” Seokmin’s eyes opened again. When he turned to Joshua with the intention to say thank you, something else slipped from his lips.

         “Can you do that again?”

         Joshua cocked an eyebrow. “Get fuzz out of your hair?”

         His cheeks heated up. “No.” Seokmin avoided his gaze, tilting his head to the side, scalp directed at Joshua. “That was…very relaxing, so.” No response from Joshua, and when Seokmin looked back up, Joshua was grinning. “What? You don’t have to, but-.”

         “I will.” He said. Shifting back on the couch, he leaned forward and pointed to the little spot in front of him, right between his legs. “Come here.”

         “Sorry, what?”

         “C’mere.” He motioned to the spot once again. Reluctant yet desperate for that tingling sensation, Seokmin plopped down on the floor in front of Joshua. It took a few seconds, Seokmin craning his neck when Joshua dramatically cracked his knuckles. However, within seconds, Joshua’s hands began threading through his hair and Seokmin took another deep breath. It felt as if he swallowed the entirety of heaven in one breath, head tilting back just a bit. “I guess that’s relaxing?”

         “Very.” Seokmin closed his eyes. Joshua’s fingers danced along his hair, and Seokmin felt he could do anything in that moment. However, out of all the things he could do, he wanted to sit here with Joshua forever. He wanted to feel these soft, gentle fingers gliding through his scalp with no pattern in mind, simply moving through the locks and scratching any parts that had gone untouched. Seokmin felt warmer than he had on any summer day at this moment, leaning into Joshua’s touch.

         “Hyung.” Seokmin muttered, a hum from above him making his eyes finally open. “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

         “You didn’t. I’m sorry you got so overwhelmed.” A scratch on the nape of Seokmin’s neck; he shivered.

         Seokmin took the silence to think back to Joshua’s question from before. Even if you know you’ll get in trouble? “My mom and my sister are having this really big fight right now.” For a second, Joshua’s hands stopped in his hair, tangled among the locks and Seokmin wondered if he said too much. However, gentle fingers resumed before he replied.

         “About what?”

         “Everything. My sister says my mother is controlling, but my mom says my sister doesn’t respect her.” Seokmin pulled a knee to his chest. “My sister came home late the other night and they got into a huge blow out with each other. She’s been staying at a friends and my mom has been trying to figure out where she is.”

         “Did you tell her?” Seokmin shook his head.

         “Only that she’s at a friend’s house. Not who. Eunkyung keeps saying how she wants to stop talking to our mom, how she’s basically being forced out of the house. Which my mom isn’t trying to do. But in the same vein, my mom never knows how to handle problems. She screams and yells, then Eunkyung screams and yells, and-.”

         “You get stuck in the middle.” Seokmin’s eyes casted to the floor. “Seokmin, I’m sorry. That must be so hard.”

         “I know they fight because they’re the same person, you know. Stubborn, prideful. They carry a lot of baggage from tons of different things. But they both carry so much love, and I know they both only mean well. I don’t know what to do this time. I can usually get them to calm down after a few days but Eunkyung won’t even text my mom.”

         Joshua was quiet for a minute, but his hands kept working in Seokmin’s hair.

         “I don’t know what you should do.” Joshua finally sighed. “Or, what you even can do. It sounds like their problem…”

         Seokmin’s neck craned up to look at Joshua, and felt his eyes glaze over with tears again. Joshua looked down, a hand immediately leaving his hair and wiping Seokmin’s eyes.

         “But what if Eunkyung doesn’t come back home?” He heard his voice crack. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

         “That won’t happen.” Joshua assured. “They just need time to calm down. I’m sure they’ll come to common ground soon.” Seokmin straightened his head once again, Joshua continuing to work his fingers into the locks. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?”

         “Okay…”

         “Focus on my brilliant massaging skills, instead. Melt into my touch.” Seokmin laughed a bit, a toothy-grin forming on his face that he couldn’t bite back if he tried.

         “Add it to your resume of random skills, Shua-Hyung.” He said softly. Joshua laughed a bit.

         “I will.” He said. As the apartment fell into silence once more, Seokmin closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the feeling of Joshua’s hands in his hair. He knew the tingles that it sent down his spine, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest wouldn’t last forever. Hell, it wouldn’t even last through the night. However, the longer the clock hands ticked away, Seokmin couldn’t help but think about how badly he still wanted to turn and kiss Joshua. How badly he wanted to melt into his touch and thank him for everything he had no obligation to do.         Seokmin, for the next ten minutes, had no intention of using the stop button. If this one tender moment had to come to an end at some point, that didn’t mean all of this – all of Joshua – had too as well. 

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[iloveroblox48]

stuck together ❣︎

❣︎ ➝ masterlist here!

❣︎ ➝ tags:being childhood bestfriends with Hanta sero fem reader fluff and angst mentions of bullying

❣︎ ➝ a/n:hi guyss!! this is my first time writing angst so im sorry if its not that good (╥_╥) really wanted to get some sort of practice in this is also motivated by my mootie @miyamoratsumuu (ゝ∀･) anywho back to sero he is such a flipping cutie i just want study him under a microscope you know (^ｗ^) anyways ignore any grammer/spelling mistakes requests open as always enjoy⁽˙³˙⁾

you were around six years old playing under the playground the sunlight shinning through the holes of the playgrounds floor when you heard it.the small sounds of sniffles and sobs,being the little nosey kid you are we went to investigate the nosies.there sat a little boy with black hair,a spiderman shirt draped loosely on him,jean shorts lightly scoffed,he was curled up battered knees to his chest tears dropping freely from his eyes.

“hey!”you said catching his attention “why are you crying?” you sat down next to him under the playground

“everyone…everyone laughed at me,and they pushed me” he told you hiccups coming out every now and then

“oh..why?”

“they thought i looked…funny because of my elbows…” he looked up at you bottom lashline wet with tears “do you think i look funny?”

“no! i think they look cool!”

“really?…thanks” his ears burned red with embarrassment

“i’m y/n l/n! whats your name?”

“i’m hanta sero”he said tears staining his cheeks as he stopped crying

“do you maybe want to play with me? we can play restaurant and i can be the cook!”

“okay yeah!” he exclaimed glee starting to take over his facial expression.

ever since that day you saw him you would go back to the park to play with him tag,hide and seek,restaurant,pirates you name it you guys played it! your friendship soon began to go from just playing in the park to playdates over at your house.

“momma hanta accidentally got us stuck together again”

“oh dear you guys will always be stuck together huh?” your mom said looking at the two of you connected at the torso with a thin piece of tape

“yeah me and hanta are stuck together forever” you said throwing your tiny arm around his sholder

“yeah! together forever”

it stayed that way the two of you, always being together you had grown up together from elementary school,to middle school.being best friends,or so you thought.

it wasn’t until a random wednesday during the summer when you had got into the high school you wanted that maybe,you had thought wrong about being together forever you guys had different dreams,different paths,different lives.you had walked to his house letter in hand he didnt live far so it wasnt a very long walk.

knocking at the door mrs.sero answered the door

“hi y/n whats brings you by?”

“need to see Hanta is he home?”you panted

“yes of course dear” she let you inside her home you started to walk towards his bedroom knowing the path by heart.you were so excited to finally tell him the great news.you opened the door to see him sitting at his desk

“oh hey y/n whats up”

“i got in!!” you said showing him the letter but he didn’t look happy

“whats wrong Hanta?”

“i…uhm…actually didn’t apply to shiketsu..well i did but i also applied to ua and uhh…i got in..” he said looking at you “i understand if your mad y/n i just wanted to apply to both so incase i didn’t get in one i got in the other but i got in…ua and shiketsu but im going to ua for more opportunities.”

you looked at him lost in a sea of emotions you weren’t mad or anything like that!you wanted the best for him! even if that ment having to be separated you wanted him to follow his dream,his path,not yours or anyone else’s for that matter,even if it ment your that your friendship would soon be torn apart the tape bindings not being strong enough to hold you together anymore.

tears welled up in your lower lashline at the the idea of being separated.you thought about everything all the years of middle school,the days at the parks,the hang outs at your house all of the memories you guys had.the tears soon fell thinking about this.he got up from his seat pulling you into a hug.

“i’m sorry y/n im so sorry please dont be upset”he began to pat your hair down to try and soothe you

“i could never be uspet with you Hanta” you said wiping your eyes “just promise me we’ll be stuck together forever just like kids okay?”

“yeah okay together forever y/n i promise”

you guys had different dreams,different paths,different lives but for now in this life your stuck together by the bindings of maybe your hearts or maybe the tape who knows.You were just stuck together and you wouldn’t have it either way.

[christmascoles]

just a lady from oldtown

Summary:  You may get an unexpected surprise in your secret relationship.

Tags : vaginal sex, cock worship, kissing, jealousy, mirror sex, creampie, masturbation, dance, choking, vaginal fingering

Music echoed throughout the throne room as she admired the couples. If there was anything more boring than sitting at the royal table, it was having no friends nearby. She was alone among all the rich, noble lords. She remembered someone she loved very much telling her, "There are some who would like to be in your place, my lady." Her eyes searched expectantly for Ser Criston, but she could not find him anywhere in the throne room.

His father, Hand Of The King Otto Hightower, seemed delighted that his daughter Alicent was getting married with the king. For Y/N, the situation was completely different. She knew that her sister had been forced into marriage. Unlike Alicent, Y/N was not a friend of Princess Rhaenyra. Most of the time she had served as one of the ladies in Queen Aemma Arryn's service. When Aemma Arryn died, her sister had secured her place in the castle. 

"My lady, would you like to dance?" said a Ser whose name she did not know. 

"Forgive me, Ser. I'll have to go out for some air." Without letting the man speak, she stood up and left the table. It was very difficult to pass through the dancing crowd. She kept apologizing and asking for permission to pass. She paused when she felt an arm around her waist. It didn't take her long to recognize the owner. The arm around her waist belonged to Harwin Strong. She knew him.

 "Ser Harwin, I will not dance." She tried to pull herself. Harwin Strong spun her around and lifted her into up. "Then why are you here, my lady? You deserve to dance. It would be a shame not to be accompanied." She could say nothing and fell under the spell of the dance. She let Harwin Strong lead her. Use her body.. But she was unaware of the person who was watching them at the time. She raised her arms outstretched, accompanied by giggles. Behind her, Harwin Strong did the same. They broke apart and danced back to each other. They held hands and spun around each other. When their eyes met, Harwin finally found the courage to speak. 

"Lady Y/N, I have heard rumors that you are the most beautiful woman in the realm, but...the rumors are rather meager about your beauty," he interrupted before she could finish. "Cole?" said Ser Harwin. "Is there a security breach or something?" He knew what had happened between Criston and Lady Y/N. That's why he was amused when Criston couldn't resist coming to them. Criston did not speak. But she understood the anger in the eyes of the man he loved.

"Is something wrong, Lady Y/N?”

"What do you think could be wrong? We were dancing!" 

"Sounds to me like you've been hanging around the skirts of noble ladies and making them uncomfortable." Criston said.  

"Ser Criston, we were just..."

"Watch your language in the presence of a lady, Ser Criston." 

"I apologize, my lady, if my wild words offended you." Criston said angrily. Then he turned back to Harwin. "Now get out of here, my lady has more important things to do." She was surprised when Criston said that. She knew her lover had always been protective, but this was the first time she had seen the darkness in his eyes. Ser Harwin smiled and looked at his father. He could have attacked Criston right there if he wanted to and the two of them could have fought punch to punch. But he wasn't going to do that because it was the King's wedding. He went back to his table in silence. Criston was just standing there. At that moment she wanted to kiss his lips and calm him down. Kisses were the most comforting thing for Criston. Of course she couldn't do it in public, so she settled for words.

 “My love...” She took him by the hand and dragged him to her room without anyone seeing him. When she got him inside she stuck her head out of the door and made sure no one saw them. 

When she came back in she saw Criston's hand shaking. She immediately took his hands in hers. "I got up to see you." She said. Criston didn't look her in the eye, he was just silent. "Criston, my love don't be like this, please." 

And finally he broke his silence. 

"What was he talking to you?"

"I don't understand, Y/N, why are you doing this to me? You made me fall in love with you even though you knew my vows and, and I can't breathe without you. I can't stand seeing you with someone else! I can't." 

She understood Criston’s concerns. How couldn’t she not understand him when she loved him more than herself? She knew him best in this castle. Criston was quiet and stern-looking and sometimes he could say things that were out of the line. But she knew him. She knew how sensitive and emotional he was. 

"Darling... it was just a dance and I had to. I know what you risked everything for me and I'm so glad you did it." 

Criston looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. "You don't have to do this. I will always be there for you and when the time comes..." "When the time is what?" Y/N began to untie Criston's armor. When she finally freed him from his armor, she could touch his body freely. "We'll get married when the time comes." "We don't have to wait. We can go to Essos and get married, where no one will care about my vows." He said. "No, my darling. I will not let you live with this guilt for the rest of your life." Criston was about to say otherwise but her lips closed over his lips. He closed his eyes. Their kiss continued when he took her in his arms. 

She led him to the bed and laid her down. He wanted to keep kissing her but he also wanted to give her a punishment. Even though she didn't want to, she had danced with a man. "I love you." Y/N stroked Criston's hair, which she adored. No man's hair was as beautiful as his. She loved them. Gently she placed a kiss on his cheek. She had worked so hard to gain Criston's trust. Criston tried to remain serious against the kisses, but he clung to the woman he loved with need. He needed her. Her love, her mercy, hdf body and her whole self... He buried his head in her neck and inhaled her scent for a while. "You are everything to me." Criston said with all the truth. 

Then he kissed her lips. Their tongues danced with each other as her sweet knight held her by the waist, pressing her to him. "We have to go." She said. Criston nodded. "I know. But I wish we didn't," he said. "I wish." She stood in front of her mirror and looked at her reflection in it. Criston got out of bed desperately. He wanted to spend the whole night with her in this bed, but he didnt done that. He had already dishonored his lady. He had even gone so far as to tell her to leave her family behind.

He hugged her from behind and kissed her neck. They belonged to each other. They were bound by an invisible bond. 

"I'm on watch, I'll be with Princess Rhaenyra." Criston said. Y/N frowned. "You know I don't like her." She added. "I don't like the way he looks at you." "He's just a boy who's excited. I'm sure he'll get over it." She remained serious. Child or not, it didn't change the fact that she was interested in Criston. Besides, she had witnessed Rhaenyra being a spoiled little princess when she was Lady of Aemma Arryn.

"Go, Criston." Criston understood what was happening. He just couldn't understand why, why did they both have to suffer like this? He hated himself. He hated his family, the house where he was born. If he had been a noble blood knight, Otto Hightower would have easily married them off. But everything had to be like this, it always had to be hard. Life had to treat them badly and unfairly. 

"Okay, don't worry." She said. She turned around and reached out and hugged him. Criston couldn't resist and picked her up and sat her on the table. He needed this. He needed to feel her. She moaned and tried to pull Criston closer to her. Criston tried to untie her dress but he was not very successful. Y/N giggled and untied the top of her dress. Criston pulled down his pants and spread her legs apart. She leaned back and bit her lip. Because she was sitting on the table, things underneath her were hurting her. But she didn't care because all she wanted was for Criston to fuck her hard. 

He started to fingering her vagina. All the while he looked into her eyes. Although he was a submissive man at heart, sometimes he liked to make her squirm, especially when he was angry. Not always, but sometimes he liked to be in charge. "Please, Criston, I need you inside of me." "Say the word." Criston said. "W-What word?" "What do you want?" She grinned and spoke. "Your big cock." She wanted to fall on Criston's lips. She wanted to kiss for hours like they always did. But Criston had other plans. He spat once on his cock and played with it. He settled inside her and pushed himself in. Y/N tried hard not to scream. Criston ignored her reaction and started fucking her hard. Their foreheads were pressed together. Her legs were shaking and her tits were bouncing. Criston turned her over and said "I want you to see yourself. See how you are fucked and never forget it." 

Lady Y/N did as he said and watched herself as Criston fucked her. She watched his open mouth and bite her lip as she begged for more. She watched Criston's hair stick to his forehead with sweat. She watched the hard arm around her waist holding him. With an excruciating scream, she came on his  cock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He growled. He slowed down. "You're not coming, are you?" Y/N taunted. He was pissed. He grabbed her by the throat and started fucking her harder. Some strokes hardened his grip, others softened. "Ah! Fuck." Her moans became louder. "You're so fucking tight. You're so fucking tight." Said Criston. "I want you to cum in my face, Ser. Can you do that?" A chuckle escaped Criston's mouth. After he go out of her, he let her go. 

He sat on the bed and started jerking off. He watched her crawl towards him. She opened her mouth in anticipation as she sat on her knees. He got rid of the extra clothes. Y/N wanted him to use her for hours. She enjoyed it as much as Criston did. Criston's moans grew louder and faster as he jerked off. Criston was panting as he came all around Y/N's mouth. "Swallow." She didn't make him repeat it so she just swallowed. "There's my good girl." He said. She climbed on his lap. Criston lovingly wrapped his arms around her waist. He placed sweet kisses on her bruised throat. 

"I'm sorry. Was I too harsh?" 

"Sometimes I like it when you are." Y/N said with a smile. She kissed his forehead, pulled his wet hair back. "Only sometimes. But mostly you are my sweet boy. Do you hear me?" Criston nodded excitedly. "I am. And I love it..." "Good boy." She stood up and pulled her dress up. Criston helped her with her zipper. "The king is married. You will stay here now, won't you? You're not going anywhere."  "Alicent has no friends here. I mean, I don't think she will.. after what happened. If King agrees, I'll stay here." He wore his armor. 

They both left the room at the same time. She didn't care, maybe someone would see her and Criston.. and her father would find a way to marry them. It was a childish dream. She had seen his sister Alicent crying in the Godswood an ran to her. "Alicent!" Alicent turned around and saw her little sister. Y/N was about to speak when Alicent hugged her. Ever since Alicent had befriended Rhaenyra, she had stopped talking to her sister and had distanced herself from her. Something was wrong. She could see it in her sister's eyes. “What's wrong? Tell me.” "I don't want to be queen, I want to be Alicent." Alicent said. "He is old and... and he made me fight with Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra insulted me, said I was a whore who married her father. I... I was her best friend. I didn't ask to marry her father. I hate her and him.” 

"Why he doesn't let us be with the ones we love?" Alicent asked. She just hugged her sister. “Rhaenyra fought with you because she is afraid of you." "W-What do you mean?" "Isn't it clear, big sister? If you will have a son, the realm will reject Rhaenyra. She's terrified of that." At that moment the truth hit Alicent full in the face. She knew her sister was right. So she kept quiet and agreed with her.

"If Rhaenyra has turned against you, Alicent, you must not be silent. You are Queen now, whether you like it or not. You may be married to that old man, but you will rule us." she said. That evening, after Alicent and Viserys's bed ceremony, everyone went to their own rooms. In the morning Y/N was dressed her green dress. She felt sick. She went out into the garden and saw Larys Strong with her sister. She wondered what they were talking about, but if they were talking about something important it would not be good to interrupt. After a few minutes Larys left his sister. She walked towards her. "Good morning, sister." "Good morning, sister." "You look better today.” Alicent smiled and took her sister's hand. Together they started walking in the Godswood. Y/N suddenly stopped. She felt nauseous. "What's going on?" Alicent said. She was afraid that what she is  thinking might happen. Y/N hadn't bled this month. 

"Do you want me to call the Maester?" She trusted her sister. "You know I can't trust the Maester," "You need to get out of the castle and have it looked at outside," Alicent said. She added. "I'll go with you." “You know what.. I have nothing to fear. I will talk to the Maester." "Are you serious? You want to bring a bastard in our house? It will taint Criston and you." She had nothing to say. Deep down she wanted this baby and she knew that Criston would do anything for his baby. She had no doubt about that. "Maybe the moon tea can still work-" 

"I don't want to drink moon tea, Alicent. I don't need a castle, a lord husband or fancy dresses. All I want is my child and the man I love. Until now I always thought I should wait, but if I have a baby I will make it happen." "Are you going to run away?" She said nothing and went up the stairs. Criston was coming across the hall with some guards. She didn't look at him and kept walking. Her emotions were mixed and she didn't know what to do. She quickened his pace and came to the Maester's room. He was reading something inside. "Hey, I hope I'm not disturbing you Maester." "Lady Hightower, welcome. How can I help you?" When Y/N left the room, she knew the truth. She was with Criston's baby. She was carrying his baby. Maester had sworn an oath to stay between them, but no one could be trusted in the Red Keep. 

"Good morning, my lady." She looked back when she heard Criston's voice. "Good morning, Ser.” "What is it?" Criston said. He understood her sadness. She didn't seem to want to tell him. He understood that she felt bad. He just didn't know what to do. He took her hands in his. "Y/N what's going on my love, please tell me." "I'm with a child, Criston. I'm sorry... I shouldn't have forgotten to drink the tea." Criston paused for a second or two and raised his eyebrows. He didn't seem to understand. Then he came to his senses and laughed. "Oh gods.. Gods!" She was just as surprised. "Gods! Thank you." He carefully wrapped his arms around the woman he loved. He didn't want his armor to hurt her.

 "They gave us a family, my darling. You mustn't be sad about it... if you love me, if you love your baby, come with me." "Tonight... let's get out of here." She was worried. How could she leave all that behind? Her father, her sister.. "Where will we go?" "Somewhere where no one will find us. Pentos, the Free Cities. Anywhere in Dorne. Maybe an island. We will love each other the way we want.

“I will wake up every morning smelling you, kissing you and caring for you. With my skills with a sword, I can enter the service of a rich merchant prince. I have no doubt about that. I will take care of you and our child." She nodded. She knew Criston would do anything for her and his baby. "Let's go," she said. "Somewhere where no one can find us." 

[imtooscaredforthis]

So Two Murderers Walk Into A Room…

Chapter Three: The Truth Isn’t So Bad

Mentions of: Murder, Homicidal Thoughts, Knives, Homicidal Tendencies, Mental Illness, etc.

A/N: I was super sleepy while editing this so please forgive grammar/spelling errors

Tags: @vandeaad @dead-bxxxtch-walking @moonshineinasippycup @stwbwwychan @mama-miya

He was right. You hate to admit when you’re wrong, but boy were you wrong. You truly are in some sort of fucked up dimension. And that entity thing, you saw it. After you sacrificed all those survivors. It was real.

In some strange way, you felt connected to it. Like it was controlling you. You shouldn’t want to be controlled. You never want to be controlled. But you like how you feel.

You get that familiar blissful feeling whenever you kill, but multiplied by ten. Right now, you feel amazing, the buzz and adrenaline running through your veins. You feel better than you’ve felt in a long time. Honestly, you wouldn’t mind doing this for eternity.

“Boo.” A voice suddenly whispered in your ear, making you shriek and turn on your heel, waving your knife around. A gloved hand caught your wrist, stopping you before you could do any damage.

It was that masked freak from before. He chuckled to himself lowly, and you could feel the smugness emanating from him. “Seems like I caught you red-handed, Sweetheart. You finally ready to confess?”

And just like that, your mood soured. Sweetheart. Who does this condescending prick think he is?

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed poisonously. “And I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“You don’t, but I’m sure I can get it out of you. You do have quite a bit of blood on you after all. Cute. So how many did you get? Two? Three?” He examined the knife in your hand, before releasing your wrist.

“Four, actually.” You corrected him, doing your best to stop your smile as you felt some sadistic pride grow in your chest. What are you doing? Why are you trying to please him?

“Ooooh, four. You got them all?” He asked. “Yeah, not like it was hard or anything. I was a district champion in track in High school, and I did gymnastics in college. So I have some extra skill when it comes to the hunt.”

You can’t help but find yourself getting sucked into this conversation with him. No one’s ever talked to you about murder before. It’s such a taboo subject, and yet, you’re here, talking to this man and treating it so casually. It’s so…freeing.

“See? Isn’t it nice being able to be yourself? Your true self? I knew you’d admit it eventually.” He remarked.

“Okay, you might’ve been right about some things, but not everything. Who are you, anyway?” You asked, realizing he never told you his name.

“Mmm, I go by a lot of things, but most people know me as Ghostface.” He said.

You repeated the name to yourself, before giggling. “You’re so weird.”

“Laugh all you want, but that name terrified anyone who heard it, especially those who read my name in the paper. The stories of what I did kept countless up at night, and I would’ve scared you too.” He stated in an irritated, almost threatening tone.

“Oh really?” You challenged him. “Yep. I’d have you changing your locks and everything. Maybe I’d even get you to move.”

“Well, you’re wrong, Ghostface. Because I’m not a pussy. I’m not scared of anything.” You replied, gesturing at him with your knife in hand, a big grin on your face.

He was oddly quiet for a moment and stood as still as a statue. Still, you could feel his eyes following your movement. Then, he spoke. “I have a feeling you and I are going to be good friends.”

Huh? Just when you thought you got under his skin, when you thought you finally deflated his huge ego, he bounced back immediately. Seems like you can’t push his buttons like he can push yours.

“Now, there’s lots for us to do. I need to show you around to the other realms and have you meet the other killers. That’ll be fun.” He remarked.

“Other killers?” You repeated. “Yeah, you didn’t think it was just us, did you? Now c’mon, let’s go.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the woods.

–

It didn’t take long, just a little more walking before finding the other killers. There were around eleven, all grouped up together, waiting for another trial, you assumed. Many had more monster-like features, but others appeared to be human.

You weren’t afraid, but you were intimidated, and curious. Why did they look the way they did? Did they always look like that? Or did something change them? Do you look like that?

It’s been a while since you looked in a mirror, but you don’t think you do. You hope you don’t. One of the few things you pride yourself on is your looks. You’re beautiful. You know you are.

Not only is it nice to be pretty, but it’s good for sex, and it’s also easier to lure in your prey. That’s how you’ve killed and gotten away with your murders.

“Hey guys, welcome our newbie, _______! Isn’t she just the cutest?” He pushed you against him, before reaching up and squeezing your cheeks. Glaring at him, you smacked his hand away, slipping out of his grip.

Feeling all the attention on you, you glanced at the group, suddenly feeling shy. “Uh, hi.”

It’s strange, being around people and creatures that all now know your secret, even though you’ve spent your whole life hiding it. It’s even weirder knowing that they’re just like you.

Well, not just like you, but they obviously have to have some involvement with killing to be there.

“Well, hello there.” A lilac-haired man purred. He approached you quickly, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. You blinked at him, processing his actions.

Okay, now some guy dressed in what seems like a ringmaster’s outfit is hitting on you. Not that you minded. He was quite good looking after all, with a pretty face, and a toned upper body. Great abs too.

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m-”

“Fuck off, Trickster. She’s mine.” Ghostface interrupted, shoving him away. He said something to him, you weren’t sure what because it was in another language, but whatever it was didn’t sound nice.

You opened your mouth to object to Ghostface’s statement, but the next thing you knew he was ushering you away from the killers. “You’ll get to know them later. Let me show you around.”