#i said the whole family is difficult. without exposing mine or their lives let me give you some brief facts 😘

[florida3exclamationpoints]

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[drabbles-mc]

All Mine

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by Anon: If you are taking them, I have a request! The reader and EZ are best friends and she is close to Angel who secretly loves her. But once EZ joins the MC and the reader hangs around more, Angel gets jealous of EZ because she is hanging out with him, not knowing the reader is in love with Angel. Angel becomes distant from her but she stops by his place to talk to him because she misses him and so much possessive smut, bruises, hickeys 🥵 I love your writing and wanted to request ❤️

Warnings: language, angst, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of bodily fluids (male + female), unprotected sex

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I was just thinking that I need to write something for Angel soon and this request was perfect for that so thank you. Got some backstory and buildup to really get the angsty vibes going before we get to the smut. As someone who is a big fan of hickeys and the like this request really spoke to me lmao. Hope you guys enjoy!! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @helli4nthus​ @angelreyesgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​​ @yourwonkywriter​​ @sesamepancakes​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @plentyoffandoms​​ @georgiaaintnopeach​​ @twistnet​​ @amandinesblogofstuff​​ @garbinge​​ @bucky-iss-bae​​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing don’t hesitate to let me know, I’ll add you to the list!)

If there was anything that could be said about being friends with the Reyes brothers, it was that it was never boring. You’d all been friends for a long time, having gone through life together from high school on. You and EZ had been in the same grade and became best friends almost instantly, and it was difficult to be friends with EZ without also being roped into a friendship with his brother, too. Not that you minded—the three of you always managed to have a good time together.

And the friendship you had formed with Angel was pivotal when EZ was shipped off to Stockton. Never boring didn’t always mean fun. But the two of you kept each other sane throughout the whole ordeal. You’d always gotten along well, but in those years that EZ was away you and Angel really fell into a flow with each other. You were practically living over at his place. The couch always had blankets and pillows on it for you just in case you stopped in and stayed the night, which happened more and more frequently as time went on, especially on nights after you took the time to go visit EZ. You wondered why Angel didn’t go as often, but you knew better than to pull at those strings. Even though you knew a lot about the Reyes brothers and their family, you were also aware that there were a lot of things that you weren’t privy to, and you respected that.

You’d gotten good at patching Angel up, physically and emotionally. Whether he was coming home busted up from whatever was happening with the club, or you came over to find him a drunken emotional mess because of what life had put him through, you had slowly but surely figured out how to help him through it. Your first-aid skills improved a lot in the years that EZ was away.

And, somewhere along the way, you’d fallen in love with Angel in the mess of it all. There wasn’t an exact moment where you could pinpoint that it happened. But spending all that time together, getting each other through the rough patches and celebrating together in the good times, really carved out a space in your heart that was reserved just for Angel Reyes. You kept that to yourself, though. You knew that if he felt the same way at all, he would’ve said something or made a move of some kind. It stung sometimes, but you knew that having him in your life as a best friend was preferable to not having him at all.

“He’s coming home next week,” he said, trying to ignore the pain of you cleaning out a cut he’d gotten above his eyebrow.

You nodded, trying to keep your excitement levels down, “I know,” you leaned back to get a better look at his whole face, “How are you feeling about that?”

He nodded, “’S better than him staying in fuckin’ prison.”

You chuckled, “That’s true,” you paused, knowing that there was a lot more going through his mind about it, “You talk to the club about everything?”

He cringed as you swabbed the gash with medical alcohol, “Yea.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “You fuckin’ know,” he let you cup his chin to hold his head still as you pressed a bandage onto his cut, “He’s meant for more than this shit. I don’t get why he wants to come back to Santo Padre at all, let alone get tied down with the fuckin’ club.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, “It seems to work well for you.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, “Don’t say that like EZ and I are capable of the same things, querida. You’re smarter than that.”

You sighed, leaning back and resting your hands in your lap, “Your cut should be fine. If it starts oozing anything you can sue me for malpractice,” you let the EZ topic drop, knowing it was a bit of an exposed nerve and probably would be for some time.

He chuckled, “Thanks. I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” he stood up, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to pull something together for dinner.

The days dragged on as you waited for EZ to come home. Once there was a definitive end-date to his stint in Stockton, time seemed to move slower. You’d been spending more time around the clubhouse in general, but you knew that if both Angel and EZ were going to get involved with the club, you were going to need to get comfortable with all of it. You knew that you weren’t going to get to be in the know about everything, but you didn’t want to be a stranger either, or just “that girl who is always hanging out with the Reyes brothers”. The guys really didn’t seem to mind. You all got along well enough, and having the endorsement of being a close friend of Angel’s certainly didn’t hurt. It was a relief, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to know that you had a team of backup if something ever got that bad. Angel would go to the end of the earth for you, but having a small army never hurt.

You’d been cautiously optimistic about what life was going to be like when EZ was back home again. You loved him and you missed him, but you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same exact person coming back that he was when he went away. No one comes out after that much time the same. But in all of your visits, you could feel that he was still EZ in all the ways that mattered. He was just going to need time to adjust, to figure things out, to get his feet back underneath him. And that was exactly what you were there for.

He fell into things rather easily with the club. You knew that Angel was still conflicted about it, but there was no going back on it now. EZ was officially a prospect and Angel was officially his sponsor. No amount of deep sighs and eye rolls was going to undo that. The club was accepting of him, but they were still vetting him thoroughly. You couldn’t necessarily blame them, but you knew who EZ was and it made you a little biased.

EZ was open with you about what he was going through, and you were glad that the two of you hadn’t lost that over the years. He needed some consistency, some kind of anchor in the midst of all of the chaos, which was a role that you were more than happy to fill.

Late nights at Angel’s apartment started to give way to late nights at EZ’s trailer. You still saw the both of them a lot, one of the benefits of hanging out at the clubhouse whenever you could. But you knew that EZ needed some extra one-one-one time and you weren’t going to rob him of that because you had gone and let yourself fall in love with his brother.

You figured that Angel would be glad that EZ had someone in his corner. You knew that things were a little tense between them sometimes because of the club and you didn’t have any of that baggage to carry. You assumed that Angel would be happy to know that his little brother was being cared for by someone who really knew him and gave a shit about him. But it didn’t really feel that way.

EZ was on the opposite side of the bar from you, stacking the last few cases of beer that had gotten delivered that day. The two of you were laughing as you told him about some of the stupidity that was going on at your job. The laughter was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both turned to see Angel standing there, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Pres needs you in Templo for a few minutes, Prospect.”

EZ nodded, wiping his hands off on his jeans, “Alright,” he walked around to the other side of the bar, giving your shoulder a nudge as he walked past you, “Don’t let anyone rob the joint while I’m in there.”

You laughed and shoved him towards the sliding glass door, “Hope they’re not kicking you out.” Despite the fact that EZ was making his way to the room, Angel lingered back for a moment. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say something to you, “All good?”

He shrugged, nodding, “All good,” the expression on his face said otherwise but you didn’t get to push it as he turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

You were still there when the meeting was over, not that it took very long. Everyone dispersed in their own directions. Angel flagged his brother down, saying something quietly into his ear, eyes only darting over to you for a moment before he clapped EZ on the back and walked out of the clubhouse without coming over to say anything to you. EZ walked over, unaware of everything you were noticing and feeling.

He plopped down on the stool next to you, “Movie night?”

You nodded, smiling, “Absolutely.”

About halfway through the movie your mind was somewhere else entirely. Before you were able to censor yourself, you blurted out, “Is Angel mad at me?”

EZ looked over at you, clearly confused. He paused the movie, “Mad at you?”

You nodded, “Yea. He’s barely been talking to me the past couple of weeks and when he does it just feels…different.”

EZ shrugged, “If he is, he hasn’t said anything to me. I doubt it’s that, though. He’s been stressed with all the shit going on with the club lately. He might just accidentally be taking it out on you.”

You gnawed at the inside of your lip, wanting to believe him but not quite sure that you did, “Yea, probably.”

The next few days went by and it was more of the same. You felt like you were trying to drag a conversation out of Angel and he was coming up with excuse after excuse to dodge you. You tried not to let it get to you, but it was difficult. After everything, he was icing you out. And even despite that, your heart still sped up every time you saw him, hoping that he would walk over and things would go back to how they’d been for the last few years.

So you found yourself outside the door to Angel’s house. You knocked on the door for the first time in years—you never used to feel like you had to. But now everything felt off and you didn’t feel quite as welcome as you did before.

A few moments later you heard a scuffling from the other side of the door before it opened. Angel was in his jeans and a tank top, hair a mess, and your heart skipped a couple beats in your chest. You cleared your throat, “Can I come in?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything as he moved to the side so you could walk inside. You toed off your shoes and part of you wanted to plop down on the couch the same way you had so many times before, but you fought the urge. You did notice, though, that there was still the small pile of blankets and pillows taking up one end of the couch. It gave you a small sliver of hope.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, standing in front of you in the middle of his living room.

“I just came over to talk…to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he scoffed, shaking his head, “No pressing plans with Boy Scout tonight?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” your words were angry but the look in your eyes was anything but—everything just hurt.

“You just use me to pass the time till he got back out?” he looked like he was on the brink of tears, “Just come over here to fill the Reyes void until the Golden Boy was back?”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“You! Us!” he snapped. The word us hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t force out any words, so Angel continued, “You spend all this time comin’ over here, making me think that you actually give a shit about me, makin’ me fa—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “Then you just fucking drop me. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

“Angel,” there was a slight tremor to your voice, “your brother just got out of prison. Figured he might need a little extra support for a while. Why is that putting such a bug up your ass?” you saw him go to say something but you held your hand up to stop him, “And just so we’re painting the full fucking picture here—you’ve been dodging me. Every time I try to talk to you, you suddenly have something else to do, somewhere else to be. This is the first real conversation we’ve had in weeks and it’s only happening because I came banging on your fucking door,” you wiped away tears that you hadn’t even felt before that moment, “Sorry you haven’t gotten my undivided attention, but that’s just life sometimes, Angel. And, fuck,” you shook your head, “even though you’ve been acting like a real dick lately, I’ve still missed you.”

“I’m so fucking sick of coming in second place, Y/N.”

You stepped to him, looking up at him, “You’re not in second place. There are no places. That’s all up here,” you reached up and pressed the pad of your finger to his temple.

He gently placed his hand over yours, completely enveloping it, “I can’t handle you getting sick of me, forgetting about me,” his eyes met yours, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

You felt a lump forming in the back of your throat, “Then why are you shutting me out?”

He shook his head slightly, hand still clasping yours, “Easier leaving than getting left.”

“I was never leaving you, Angel,” your voice was barely a whisper, “And I’m not going to.”

He closed his eyes, leaning down so his forehead against yours. He took a deep, unsteady breath, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you.”

You smiled, bringing your other hand up so you were cupping both sides of his face as you pulled back a little, “You’ve got a really shitty way of showing it.”

He laughed, shaking his head before pressing a kiss against your palm, “Will you let me show it in a better way?”

Your heart was pounding inside your chest as you nodded. He instantly pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. One hand fell to the small of your back while the other rested on the back of your neck, keeping you as close to him as he could. Your knees felt weak as you melted into him.

He pressed the tips of his fingers harder into the back of your neck and you could feel the neediness seeping from his body into yours. You draped your arms over his shoulders, getting lost in the feeling of the way his lips moved in-sync with yours. A soft moan slipped out as he bit down on your lip.

He pulled his lips away from yours, letting you both catch your breath. He still had you wrapped up in his arms and you smiled, placing a gentle kiss on his jawline, “I think I’ve been falling in love with you too.”

With a quiet laugh he scooped you up off the floor, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. With what seemed like no effort at all, he whisked you down the hall to his bedroom. You laughed as he let you drop a few inches from his arms onto the mattress, a smile on his face as he situated himself between your legs, hovering over your torso with his lips hardly an inch from yours.

“You mean it?” you asked in a whisper as you reached up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been falling in love with me.”

He nodded, his voice as soft as yours, “Every word,” he leaned down and kissed your temple before bringing his lips right next to your ear, “I just wanna make you mine.”

Your body trembled at the sound of his words. You let your eyes drift shut as what he said washed over you. “Do it,” your voice was hardly audible, “Make me yours.”

You felt him hum in approval, the vibrations against your neck sending a chill through your body. He attached his lips to yours, cupping one side of your face in his hand. You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, and you felt him smile into your kiss. He pressed his lips hard against yours for a moment before he slid them down to your neck. His hands slid down your sides, resting on your hips as he bit down onto your neck. You moaned as he sucked on the sensitive skin there. He brought his lips to the other side of your neck to do the same thing as he pushed your hips down to the bed, effectively unhooking your legs as his hands started to undo the button and zipper of your jeans.

He pulled your jeans down, tossing them off to the side before hopping off the bed just long enough to undo his belt and push his jeans down to the floor. Once the denim pooled at his ankles he stepped out of them and was right back on top of you again, pulling your shirt off over your head as you reached and did the same to him.

He kissed you as his hands roamed all over your body, touching every exposed inch, every single curve. His tongue met yours as he gripped tight onto your hips. You moaned as he began to grind against you. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as he pulled out of your kiss, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as he did.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he kissed you lightly on the lips as his fingers looped around the waistband of your underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs.

He left a long trail of kisses and love-bites down your chest, stomach, and thighs. He draped your legs over his shoulders and you let out a shaky breath as he grazed his teeth along the inside of your thigh, biting down ever-so lightly before moving his lips between your legs. A moan fell from your lips the second he pressed his mouth against you, your hands instantly tangling themselves in his hair. You felt the vibrations against you as he chuckled at how quickly you became so needy. Every single thing he did felt perfect. The sound of you moaning his name filled the house as his tongue continued to explore every part of you.

He pulled his lips away from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He smiled up at you as he slowly slid his fingers into you, turning your whimper into a moan. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders, nails setting into his skin as you cursed under your breath. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly began to pump his fingers in and out of you, reveling in the fact that he was the one marking you up and putting that look of pure bliss onto your face.

You arched your back slightly when you felt him bite down onto your thigh, “Fuck, Angel, don’t stop.”

His voice was raspy, “You gonna cum for me, querida?”

“Y-yes,” you almost didn’t get the word out as you felt his mouth begin to work along with his fingers. Your legs tightened around his head, thighs clenching as you got closer to your orgasm, “Fuck, Angel,” you cried as you came.

He slid up to you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Your fingers trailed through his beard, feeling your wetness as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself off of his lips and tongue and you were about to get lost in that sensation alone until you felt him pressing against your entrance. You rested your hands on his hips and pulled him closer to you, both of you moaning as he slowly slid into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, soaking up how he felt inside you.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered as he slowly started to move his hips, “You’re so perfect for me.”

You knew there was no way to be closer to him than you were, but you wished that there was. You wrapped your legs around him again and cupped his face so you could kiss him as he thrust into you. He braced his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned into you. you slid your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down against you as you sank your teeth into the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

You heard him curse and you smiled as you placed a kiss on top of the bitemark, “You’re mine now, too, Angel.”

He pulled away from you so he could look you in the eyes, “Say that again.”

You gently traced the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, “You’re mine, Angel Reyes.”

His lips crashed into yours as he picked up his speed. He couldn’t get enough of you, hands grabbing at whatever they could to try and keep you closer to him. You felt his rhythm start to falter—he gripped tightly onto your hips as he thrust hard into you a few more times before quickly pulling out of you before he came.

He collapsed onto your chest with a sigh. You let out a tired laugh as you lazily trailed your fingers through his hair, both of you attempting to catch your breath and get your hearts down to a reasonable speed. You could feel the reverberations of his chest against yours and in that moment you were sure that there no better feeling in the world. His fingers lightly traced over your skin and all you could think about was the fact that his touch felt like home. You let your eyes drift shut for a few moments as he peppered your neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

He shifted so he was laying on his side next to you, staring at you with a starry look in his eyes. You smiled over at him, rolling onto your side as well, “What’re you thinking?”

He smiled, kissing you gently on the lips, “That I love you.”

You felt your face get hot as you touched your forehead to his, “Yea? Good. ‘Cause I love you too.”

He laughed as he rolled and pulled you with him so that you were laying on top of him, your chest pressed against his, “No going back on that now, you know.”

You let your fingers dance down the side of his face, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[etherrealoblivion]

The Same Direction

Prompt: After a difficult case, the team goes to Rossi’s beach house. Spencer has trouble dealing with his feelings toward Y/N.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Rating: Mature

A/N: Thank you so much for 200 followers! Here’s a treat. gif from Pinterest.

Words: 3,000

MASTERLIST

~

“Orders from Strauss, everyone needs to go.”

The team had just gotten back from a big case, spanning a total of five weeks on the job. It was a particularly rough one; the killer had gotten away, and the family of the victim was pressing charges. They were all in desperate need of a vacation. And it just so happened that luck was on their side. Rossi had a beach house that he’d been keeping well hidden. Strauss had gotten wind of it - presumably through a little hacker birdie - and told the team to take a week-long break to calm their nerves.

The team was ecstatic to finally get some time off. Besides, everyone loved the beach.

“Is it mandatory?”

Everyone except, apparently, for Spencer Reid.

“Yes,” Hotch said shortly, picking up his go-bag and dismissing everyone to go home and pack.

Spencer, however, was not giving up.

“Couldn’t I just stay home and relax?”

Y/N, the newest member of the team, shoved him softly.

“What’s the matter, Spence? Scared to see what Rossi looks like in his thong?”

“It’s called a Speedo, Y/N,” Rossi said, already headed out the door of the briefing room, leaving his coworkers gaping behind him.

Great. Spencer had no choice but to pack up his belongings and join his friends on the trip to the beach. He never thought being packed in a car with his closest friends would be quite like this. Once they’d gotten to forty-two bottles of beer on the wall, he’d fallen asleep.

The beach house was quite nice, which, in retrospect, should have been expected. Rossi was not all that shy about his wealth, nor shy about spending it. 

Spencer was just glad there were enough bedrooms for everyone. He said he’d come to the beach but he didn’t say he’d actually go to the ocean. His plans for the following week consisted of a locked door, a plethora of books, and no ocean. 

Plans, however, that never came to fruition.

“Hey, Spence,” Y/N was stood in his doorway, a wrap around her hips and a shawl on her shoulders, “We’re all gonna check out the water. It’s low-tide. You comin’?”

Spencer gave her a withering look.

“I-uh-I can’t. I’m, um, I’m allergic to sunscreen.”

It was a lame lie and he knew it. He also knew better than to try and lie to a profiler, not to mention a gorgeous woman who he may or may not have a tiny, minuscule crush on.

“Really?”

An evil glint shone in her eye and she tranced forward, hoisting him up out of bed and pulling him out of his room. He protested the whole way down to the beach, trying to come up with excuses.

“Our stuff could get stolen, someone could get stung by a jellyfish, I’m not in my bathing suit.”

“Spence, you’re not allergic to sunscreen, you can borrow some of mine, Rossi brought a safe for our stuff, and I know for a fact that those are swim shorts you’re wearing.”

“Yes, but I don’t have my SPF swim shirt! If I get burned it’s your fault!”

She just giggled, clutching his arm as she led him down to the beach, spotting their coworkers lounging under a rainbow umbrella in the distance.

“Pretty Boy? What are you doing here? Y/L/N finally drag you outta your room?”

“Yep!” she said proudly. “Although I’m not sure I’ll be able to drag him into the water. He keeps muttering about jellyfish statistics. Don’t start!” she added as he opened his mouth.

Spencer blushed, taking a seat in the one empty lounge chair, startled when Y/N sat down right next to him. He tried his best not to think about her warm hip touching his.

Prentiss bounced up, closing the book she was reading. “Well, maybe he’ll follow our lead, huh? Come on, guys!”

And she ran towards the water, Morgan, J.J, Garcia, and Rossi jumping up to follow. Hotch was taking a walk along the beach so Spencer and Y/N were suddenly alone.

“Are you not going to go in?” Spencer asked as she fumbled with her beach bag.

“I am, I just need to put on sunscreen.”

She stood, stripping off her shawl and skirt wrap. Spencer tried not to watch as she squirted the lotion into her hands, rubbing them together and massaging her legs, arms, and neck. He turned his head toward the beach, attempting to watch a flock of seagulls. His eyes unconsciously drifted back to her toned body, so exposed. She didn’t even seem bothered by how on display she was, people walking by able to see quite a lot.

“Spence? A little help?”

Reid snapped to attention, eyes refocusing.

“What? Oh.”

She had turned her back to him, holding out the sunscreen bottle. 

“You want me to…. Put-put the….”

“Sunscreen on my back? Yes. Please use a lot, I burn easy.”

No, no, no, no. NO!

“Okay.”

Fuck.

Spencer took the bottle and squirted a generous amount into his hand. Y/N smiled at him, pleased he was helping her, and laid down on a beach chair, untying the back of her bikini, the strings dangling down toward the sand leaving her back fully exposed.

Spencer swallowed hard.

Okay. This was fine. Just think about crime scenes. Dead bodies. Naked Morgan! There we go. Boner gone.

But the moment he touched her skin, all hope was lost. She felt like silk under his hands, the softness of the lotion only making him glide against her smoother. He could have handled that just fine if not for the fact that as he rubbed the lotion into her skin, she let out soft moans, gasping as he brushed over certain spots.

“Mm, that feels nice, Spencer. A little higher…. Yes, right there,” she keened softly.

Spencer had to suppress a moan himself. The sight of her underneath him, back displayed, writing and moaning was enough to get him hard.

The sunscreen was now well-applied to her back, but Spencer couldn’t stop yet. There was a growing issue in his swim shorts and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. So he just kept rubbing her back, going from stingily applying the sunscreen to a full-blown massage.

That…. did not help the situation. 

Y/N just kept moaning his name, telling him how good he was at this. The situation was escalating and Spencer needed to stop.

He moved his hands away quickly, turning away from her and shutting his eyes, praying that his … length … wouldn’t be that visible.

“You okay?” she touched his shoulder and he spun around, hoping and wishing she wouldn’t look down.

She didn’t. She was busy retying her bikini.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, far from fine.

She took the bottle back from him.

“Want me to do your legs?”

“NO! No. Um, no thank you. I think I’ll just stay here. This isn’t a swim shirt and I don’t wanna get it wet.”

She smiled devilishly, leaning forward and grasping the edges of his shirt.

“Then don’t.”

And ever so slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time, she lifted his shirt up over his head and threw it down on the beach chair. Even stranger, Spencer found himself letting her. He let her squeeze sunblock into her hand and run it over his shoulders, massaging it in as he had done to her.

“There! Now you can come in the water!”

“Y/N, the dangers of-”

“Hush! Follow me!” and she grabbed his hand, leading him toward the ocean, calling out to their friends.

“Look who’s here!”

“Reid!” the group cheered collectively, laughing as Spencer slowly entered the water, wrapping his arms around his torso self consciously.

He always wore a swim shirt. Even in hot tubs. It hadn’t even occurred to him how uncovered he was until he was smack dab in front of his colleagues.

“Hey, what’s the deal, Pretty Ricky? I’ve never seen you swim without a shirt before. Come to think of it, I’ve never really seen you swim.”

“About one in every sixteen people gets injured somehow at the beach. One in three of those happen in the water.”

“La-la-la-la-la,” Garcia said, plugging her ears. “I do not want to hear about how dangerous the ocean is. Living in blissful ignorance is my forte.”

Y/N laughed and Spencer joined in, a little of the tension slipping off his shoulders. Once the banter began, it was easier to forget about the unknown terrors lurking beneath the water’s surface.

Until….

“Hey, let’s go deeper!” Prentiss said, slowly wading further until she was so far out they could barely hear her. “Come on guys! I think there’s a sandbank just up ahead!”

“I’m out,” Garcia said, turning around and walking back to the shore. “I’m going to nake a nap. If anyone needs me, don’t bother trying to wake me up.”

Morgan, Rossi, and JJ all enthusiastically waded deeper towards Prentiss, frolicking in the waves and calling for Spencer and Y/N to join them.

Y/N softly took Spencer’s hand.

“Come on, I don’t know if I’ll be able to touch the bottom and I might need to hold onto you.”

And before he could protest and pull out a worrying statistic, she had led him just deep enough so that his head was above the water. In front of them, their friends were clearly standing on a sandbank, happily jumping in the waves.

“Spence,” Y/N mumbled, struggling to keep her head above the water. “I can’t touch.”

“Oh, um.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, climbing onto his front and wrapping her legs around him, securing them behind him. His hands unconsciously flew to her hips to hold her, the movement shocking him.

This…. was not good. She was pressed right up against a very sensitive area that he’d already had to calm down from earlier. The sudden contact was making the blood rush downward, no doubt leading to a very unpleasant conversation.

“Thanks,” she whispered, sliding her hands around his neck and glancing down at his lips. Wait, what?

If Spencer hadn’t been so distracted, he would have been able to read her expression better. Instead, he was left a muttering mess, trying to keep his thoughts as pure as possible so that there wasn’t a sudden growth in his trunks.

“No problem,” he said, voice cracking and he kept walking toward the bank, Y/N in his arms. Each step made her rub up against him in a less than pure way.

“You okay?” she asked, readjusting her legs and pulling tighter to him.

“Mm-hmm,” he grunted, not trusting his voice not to give out.

By some miracle, they reached their friends, Spencer set her down and was finally able to control his breathing enough to stop the hardness growing in his pants.

The obligatory beach games were played with much splashing, diving, and seawater getting in people’s eyes. After the third round of a game of chicken, Rossi decided it was time to head back. The tide was getting higher and it was about dinnertime.

“Can you give me another lift?” Y/N turned to Spencer, taking his hand for the millionth time that day. She always was a little more touchy with him.

“Um, sure. Hop on,” he pat his back, hoping it was nonchalant enough not to arouse suspicion.

That’s not the only thing that’s aroused.

Hush!

And she smiled, jumping up on his back and riding him back to where she could touch the bottom.

“Thanks, Spence. You’re fun to ride!” and she trounced off toward the beach house, leaving Spencer befuddled and confused.

~

Rossi cooked up a pot of his famous pasta for dinner, sending everyone into a glorious food coma from overeating.

Spencer retreated to his room and dug his nose into Les Miserables, quickly getting sucked into the story.

A knock on his door startled him several hours later.

“Come in,” he muttered, pulling the covers up over his bare legs.

It was Hotch.

“Hey, everyone’s turning in for the night, just wanted to let you know. In the morning, we’re going to head to that frozen ice place.”

“Okay,” he smiled at Hotch as he closed the door. 

Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see it was already 10:30.

Usually, Spencer accidentally stayed up until three AM, falling asleep with a case file clutched in his arms only to wake up in three hours. Tonight, however, there was no case to stress about, no time to wake up tomorrow, and no having to worry about stupid feelings for a coworker. If he wanted to, he could go for a walk on the beach and no one would bother him.

Which is exactly what he chose to do.

The sand had gone from scorching his feet during the day to chilly and more stable at nighttime. He walked for about five minutes until he saw a soft light in the distance. Someone had lit a small fire a few meters from the shoreline.

He was about to turn around when he noticed a very familiar shawl wrapped around the figure’s shoulders.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped towards him and although he couldn’t see her expression, he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Hey, Spence!” he walked up and sat next to her, facing the ocean. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just taking a walk. What about you?”

He made the mistake of looking at her, nearly gasping at the way the soft glow of the firelight illuminated her features. He couldn’t help watching her lips as she spoke.

“Oh, same as you. I just kinda needed some alone time.”

“Oh, do you want me to-”

“No!” she reached out, grabbing his arm to stop him from standing. “No, It’s… It’s ok. I like having you near, Spencer.”

His breath froze in his throat.

“I-ahem-I like to be near you, Y/N. I mean, you’re fun to be around.”

She laughed, hugging his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. Spencer tensed at the contact, wondering if she knew what she was doing and, more importantly, what it was doing to him.

They stared off into the waves, watching the birds dance on the horizon, the moon low in the sky. It was beautiful.

“You ever wonder why we do what we do?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

He was shocked yet again by her forwardness. He never knew what she was going to say.

“Like, we know how to do the job, but how do we turn it off? Everyone we come in contact with, we have the tools to read their lives story right off their face. But what the hell do we know about each other? I don’t know. Sometimes I just feel like no one knows me.”

She glanced at him, cheeks turning pink. “Sorry, forget it,” she whispered, pulling back from him and throwing sand on the fire. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

“You like the beach,” he blurted, making Y/N stop standing up. “You-you like the beach and-and chocolate ice cream. You hate it when Hotch’s belt doesn’t match his shoes but you never say anything because you don’t want to bother him. You tell people your favorite color is blue but it’s actually yellow. When a case involves a child, you always wear your hair down so that if you’re the one to find them, they’ll be able to smell your shampoo. You don’t let anyone initiate contact with you and you never let anyone hug you. Except-except for me.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. His gaze had drifted back to the ocean, spotting a dolphin jump in the distance.

“That’s what I know about you, Y/N.”

He dreaded meeting her eyes but the silence was more unbearable.

The moment their gaze met, a wave crashed upon the shore in front of them and Y/N leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his. Spencer gasped, lightly pressing back, keeping his hands firmly at his sides.

Emotions flew between them, Y/N reaching up and softly touching Spencer’s cheek, a burst of care rising in his chest, tightening in his throat. His hand found the back of her head and he pulled her closer. Silently, she climbed into his lap and deepened the kiss, moaning softly against his mouth.

Spencer gasped, hands moving to her hips, grasping them roughly. Her lips parted and she ran her tongue along his lips, parting them softly and delving deeper the moment he gave her access. 

The fire next to them was out but a new one had lit between them, sending waves of warmth amidst their bodies. Spencer was emboldened by the kiss, gently biting her lip and coaxing her mouth more open. Their hands moved everywhere, pulling each other’s hair, caressing each other’s backs, and holding each others cheeks ever so gently.

Y/N was the first to pull back, resting her forehead against his, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“As much as I love this, I’m not all that excited about sand getting in certain places.”

He laughed lightly, stroking her hair.

“I’m-I’m not quite ready to….”

“We don’t have to.”

She pulled back, giving him a heartwarming smile and stood up, holding out her hand to Spencer.

“Come on,” she smiled and he took her hand, standing. “Let’s take a walk.”

And so they walked off along the beach, hand clasped together, conversing quietly about nothing in particular.

No matter how much Spencer already knew about her, he found himself wanting to get to know her all over again.

And Y/N had absolutely no problem with that.

~

“Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.” -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

~

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, yours (3)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

AU: professor Baekhyun, domestic AU, family AU, triplet craze AU

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: none

tags: @geniusloey​ (let me know if you want to be added!)

Masterlist / story masterlist

<--Previous - Next -->

You were crying and everything was a disaster. The baby corner was full of onlookers and you never hated your life as much  as you did in that moment.

Upon hearing small gurgles of your son, you ran the remaining distance, taking your scared, crying son from Sonhee’s hold. She handed Jun without any question and you quickly cuddled Jun to your chest, your tears of fear and worry rolling down your cheeks without you realizing.

You were mad at yourself. So, so mad. How could you leave the weakest baby alone with a stranger? How could you forget to tell them not to feed him without your presence?

You bit your lip harshly as you heard Sukyeong sending everyone away. She was then talking to someone quietly but you wouldn’t pay attention. Jun was now a whimpering mess, his ear-piercing screams coming to a halt when he felt your presence.

“Oh, what a young mother,” someone muttered from behind you, a hushed whisper still caught by your ears. “No wonder she isn’t doing well yet without experience.”

More tears welled up in your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see clearly, you looked at Jun’s face, his father’s eyes looking back at you. How come baby’s tears could be so big? They were rolling down, taking up a huge space on his small, red cheeks.

“It’s okay, mummy’s here,” you murmured quickly kissing the tears away. Carefully cradling the back of his head, you brought him to your neck so he wouldn’t be exposed to other intrusive eyes. Juna and Junhee were restless as they were held by Sonhee and Mrs Lee in the meantime.

What to do? You were thinking frantically. The only thing that came to your mind was to go home. Obviously staying in this gym wasn’t doing you nor the kids any good.

“Sukyeong,” you muttered, not turning. The wall you were facing was a pastel blue but it didn’t do anything to calm you down. “I’m going to go home. Can you bring me my stuff?”

“I’ll take you-“

“I’ll take you home,” a familiar male voice spoke up out of nowhere. 

Slightly turning, you saw Lee Junho looking at you with worried eyes. When you didn’t respond, instead holding your son closer to you, he added: “I’m the owner of this gym and I feel responsible. Please let me take care of this by giving you a lift.” He turned to Sukyeong who was a little taken aback. “You may go back and resume the workout with Kanghee, she will finish the class for me.”

“But she is my best friend, I’ll take care-“

“I insist.”

You wiped your eyes, realizing you’d been shedding tears the whole time with your heart broken. Jun was finally quiet but he managed to pee himself in the ruckus so you nodded quickly, agreeing: “Go finish the workout Sukyeonga. I’ll take up on Mr Lee’s request.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and reached for the baby bag you always carried around. “Yeah. It’s no problem. I’ll be back, I’ll just change his nappy and clothes. Please watch out for the girls until then.”

</3

“I thought you were just a university student,” spoke up Junho as he was driving slowly towards your home. “You are so young I-” he stopped himself, growing speechless as he gently shook his head.

Jun was tied to your chest in the baby carrier while both girls were in the backseat, safely in their baby carrier baskets. It was a headache to install all of it in Junho's car but you didn't mind as long as he would take you home and you wouldn't ever see him again.

Only now, as you were seated with some time to think were you reminded to look at your phone. You wanted Baekhyun to come downstairs to help you with the kids, only to feel like crying again when you finally read his messages he sent you before you started your class but didn't read.

I know you know it but make sure to remind them not to feed Jun just in case we never know when the reflux hits again  and I'm worried about him since you won't be there

“Sorry, I keep blabbering,” laughed awkwardly Junho and you looked at him. He was staring ahead, sometimes looking out his window as if unsure where to look. “So you're a mother. Of triplets. Wow… Anyway, how many months young are they?”

You heaved out a small sigh and managed to smile, liking to talk about your munchkins. “They are only three months old. And before you go and judge me about leaving them alone, I double-checked with the baby corner whether they are able to take care of the kids.”

“Well, my mother - Mrs Lee - is in charge of the baby corner. She is an expert when it comes to babies,” he said and you felt even worse that he was blaming himself when in fact it was all your  fault. “Sonhee is also great with babies.”

“It isn't their fault at all. It's mine,” you admitted and looked down at Jun's face. He was sleeping peacefully, cuddled to your neck, his gentle baby smell and baby powder you used calming down your senses for a minute. “I should have mentioned he has problems with accepting food.” Plus, the words of a stranger woman came back flooding your already beaten up mind. Oh, what a young mother. No wonder she isn’t doing well yet without experience.

“I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you,” murmured back Junho, not wanting to disturb the babies. “Sorry if I am being too nosy but what about their father? Did he leave you?”

“Oh, no, he is at work. Well, he should be home by now,” you said quietly, frowning. “But he usually works a little late so-”

“-so you're alone with the kids the whole time,” finished Junho, his voice somehow accusatory.

You stole a glance his way again, catching the tighter grip on the steering wheel. “Well, someone has to feed us.”

This time, Junho looked at you and caught you gazing down at your son. “Many men just do that - knock up a woman and then let her take care of the mess while they live freely.”

You frowned. “I know my husband for many years, Junho,” you told him in a cold voice, a little disappointed he thought of you or Baekhyun in such a way, let alone thinking of your blessings as a mess, “and he does his best for me and our kids.”

Junho was once again shocked, shooting you a wary glance. “You're married, too?”

“Yes,” you snapped, “I don't wear my ring for the workouts, you know?”

“I'm sorry-”

“It's fine,” you sighed, running your hand through your messy hair.

“I misjudged.”

“I thought people like you shouldn't be so fast to judge.”

“You're right. It is just worrisome to see you so young with triplets alone.”

“I wasn't alone,” you reminded, “I was with Sukyeong.”

“But it should be their father who is by your side.”

You only hummed, not wanting to talk about your personal life with a stranger. Sure, a handsome one but he was a stranger. When you recognized the neighbourhood, you unlocked your phone quickly, kissing Jun's temple in the process. With a little shock, you noticed your hands shaking. It must have been the stress. “I'll call my husband so he can come downstairs.”

Junho was silent but he nodded nonetheless. Baekhyun's phone rang four times already but he wasn't picking up. Frowning, you were about to put the phone back down when he suddenly picked it up. The background on his side was so loud, you accidentally pressed the “speaker” option, Baekhyun's voice filling up the whole space in the car.

“Sweetheart, I'm not home yet, sorry!” he said and you heard some clinking of cups in the background. “I was dragged to dinner with my colleagues but I'll try to come home soon, alright?”

Your throat restricted, lump rising as you tried to put it back to silence.

“Are you home, yet?” asked Baekhyun when you didn't reply.

“Yeah, I finished a little earlier,” you told him and finally managed to put the volume down. Pressing the phone to your ear, you saw Junho speeding up to enter the underground carpark. “Don't worry, I'll be waiting home.”

“Is all good?” he asked, his voice more serious.

Your eyes were hurting from the burning tears so you closed them, praying you wouldn't start crying again in front of Junho. “Yes! All is fine!” you replied, too cheerfully. “See you soon, honey.”

“Alright, I trust you,” he added with emphasis. It was supposed to be a small threat in case you wouldn't be telling the truth and you knew you would hear it from him once he'd find out you lied, but you couldn't care less in that moment. “Love you, baby.”

You swallowed. “Love you, too.”

As soon as you ended the call, Junho said: “I'll help you with the kids.”

You nibbled on your lower lip. “Thank you.”

</3

It was an uneasy feeling; arriving into an empty apartment with the lights off. The heat of the summer evening was hitting the space which made you head straight for the air conditioner in the living room, Jun in your tight grip.

“Don't worry, you can come in with shoes,” you said hurriedly to Junho who was shuffling at the entrance, trying to take off his trainers while having a baby bag over his shoulder and two babies in the carriers.

“It's okay,” you heard a smile in his voice and by the time you appeared in the corridor leading to the entrance door, he was already walking in, looking around with focus and unhidden interest. “You have a really nice apartment.”

You smiled, saying a small thank you, and headed to the baby room, telling him to follow you. The gentle smell of baby powder welcomed you when you entered and turned on the lights. “You can just put them down here and I will take care of the rest.”

Junho clicked his tongue and lowered the carriers on the fluffy carpet, but he proceeded by crouching down and unbuckling the sleeping babies. “How could I just go? Let me at least help unpack.”

You stood unsurely above him. You knew as a mother you should be fast to take charge and get everything done according to your rules, but for some reason, you couldn't. Junho was very careful with the babies as he undid the belts and when he looked up at you, he froze. “What?”

Almost rigidly, you shook your head not wanting him to misunderstand whatever he was interpreting in his mind. “No, no, nothing! I mean - thank you for coming all the way up here and of course for driving me home.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” And just like that, he brought sleeping Juna out and with one questioning glance, you navigated him to put the baby in the crib, soon following with Junhee's sleeping form. “Do you want me to put these somewhere?” He pointed to the now empty baby carriers.

You smiled gratefully. Junho really seemed to want to help.  “That's fine, I'll do it.”

He nodded and soon enough, silence spread over the baby room. Jun was awake but as usual, he didn't make a sound and only this once you wished he would, so that you'd have a good excuse to start moving around and do what you originally intended. Jun needed feeding despite vomiting everything before.

“I'm going to go then,” he said after a small while. You already felt bad for not being able to host him properly enough but with Jun still on your mind and worried eating you away, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You nodded and when he moved out of the room, you spoke up. “I am not going to come anymore. I mean - to exercise.”

Junho turned around with a little shock. “If it's about what happened today, then don't worry about it. It's only normal.”

“No, it isn't normal,” you sighed, dejected. “Babies are still too young and Jun is quite sicklish. I forgot to tell the babysitter not to feed him. I'm so irresponsible.”

Junho was fast to spot the utter guilt in your eyes and the way you avoided his gaze. Frowning on the ground, you pursed your lips while gently running your hand over Jun's butt. He would always thought you looked beautiful and cute in that moment with the baby, but he knew it must have been difficult on you as a mother of triplets at such a young age.

“I don't know much about you,” he started gently, “in fact I wish I knew more because you seem to be interesting. But you are doing everything by yourself. You spend days alone with them and you probably have a head full of worries and three kinds of checklists that you mentally tick off. I won't judge nor mind if you don't want to exercise anymore. But maybe once your little ones grow bigger you can come back and I will gladly make the best work-out routine for you. Your body is your everything. Don't neglect it.”

Even though he could have saved that last sentence, Junho's words made you think; even more so that they were more accurate than you would have expected from a man who didn't have kids yet on his own. At least you thought he didn't have.

“Thanks a lot,” you smiled again, but the more the meeting prolonged the less you felt like it. A good cry was what you needed. “I'll reach out once I will be ready again.”

He nodded and started to put on his trainers. “I wish you all the best,” he said once he straightened up to his full length.

You nodded and let him out of the apartment. “Take care.”

He turned around just in the last moment, startling you. “I'll be waiting for you.”

Breath hitched in your throat and you could only manage to look at him speechlessly.

“At the gym! Of course at the gym!” he added quickly, laughing when he saw the expression on your face. He looked incredibly handsome when he laughed and his awkwardness made you heave out a little laugh as well.

“Okay, I'll meet you much later at the gym,” you replied, still smiling.

“That's good enough.”

</3

It was quite late when Baekhyun arrived home. The apartment was dark and quiet and he mentally cursed for not being on time again.

He went straight to your shared bedroom, not wanting to wake the triplets by accident and when he opened the door, your dim bedside lamp greeted him. With it you lying on your side and next to your chest a peacefully sleeping Jun. He was surprised to find the baby with you in your bed.

“Baby, I’m home,” he whispered, hoping you weren’t asleep yet.

You hummed, opening your eyes to see his suit-clad figure. He walked over to your side and hovered over you, looking at Jun and then at your side profile. He trailed his hand over your arm soothingly.

“Baby, why is Jun here?” He looked over his son again. “Did something happen?”

“All is good,” you said, your voice heavy with upcoming sleep.

Baekhyun understood you didn’t want to talk. He expected you to be hurt or even offended that he didn’t let you know on time about his delay. He always felt guilty for leaving you to be with triplets the whole time by yourself.

“I’ll go shower, you sleep,” he mumbled eventually when he didn’t receive more of an answer. A hum met his ears and he pressed a small kiss to the side of your face before taking off the suit jacket. He was unbuttoning his shirt when you took Jun into your arms, wanting to bring him to his crib.

Without sparing Baekhyun a glance, you walked past him and he took a hold of your waist gently, stopping you from leaving. Your tired eyes met his before you let them look at his exposed chest, the shirt still hanging off his wide shoulders. “You’re mad, right?”

“I’m not mad, Baekhyun. I’m tired.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I know I promised you that I’ll be home by-“

“You didn’t promise anything,” you interrupted him quietly. “You said you’d try to make it home earlier and I'm sure you did.” You hesitated. “Let me put Jun into bed. I need to lie down, too. It's late.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he said in a hushed tone and he sighed.

You managed to smile and shook your head before walking ahead and out of the bedroom, Jun still in your tight grip. Maybe it was the shock of the day that you didn't want to tell Baekhyun what happened. But you were certain you were mad at yourself more than at anyone else and you were positive Baekhyun would be extremely dissatisfied if he found out how irresponsible you were. You had a heavy heart and you wanted to keep to yourself for the time being. Jun was all fine, thankfully, which was the only reason you could put him to sleep separately from you. The idea of something happening to him again while you weren't present was probably the first issue that would come to haunt you in the future as a mother. This was how it felt like; leaving your kid and always hoping they would be fine without you.

By the time you came back, Baekhyun was in the shower. The constant buzz of the running water quickly lulled you to sleep, your mind and body completely exhausted from the day’s events. This one time you couldn't wait up for him. You were practically a walking zombie when you landed on your side of the bed.

Even when your husband joined you in bed, rushing to scoop you up in his arms so he could envelope himself around you like a koala to his eucalyptus tree. He sighed in content but he knew he would have a talk with you in the morning.

<3

It was only by Saturday when you actually talked. Baekhyun didn't want to wake you after being woken up on Friday early in the morning to feed, and then you slept yet again when he was about to leave for work. Your quietness was very unusual to him.

He made sure to bring the monitor to his side and tried to sleep as lightly as possible so that if the munchkins were up, he'd be there first. The bags under your eyes, and your eyes themselves not having the typical spark made him very worried. You needed to rest and he would try his best to let you.

Currently, he was having a good chat with the triplets, even though one was already crying - Junhee, of course - because he was trying to feed Juna who started the ruckus first. Thankfully, he closed the door to the babies' room, so he didn't have to worry about their wailing waking you up.

But boy, was it difficult to satisfy them. He opted to heat up another bottle of milk and he was now balancing them in both hands, trying to safely feed both of the hungry mouths. Baekhyun prayed Jun wouldn't follow his sisters' lead as he observed him for a moment before focusing back on his daughters.

“Are you always giving this much of a hard time to mummy whenever I'm not here?” he murmured but an affectionate smile stretched his lips. Juna and Junhee were adorable as he was staring down at them, their eyes wide open while looking at their father. Their cheeks were pinkish and puffy, their soft hair a little messy and pressed in funny ways from sleeping  which made Baekhyun's heart swell with love. Whenever their small fingers tapped on his long fingers, he would try to caress their hands with it.

“After this, it's nappy-change time,” he told them seriously. “No exceptions, okay?”

Juna was gulping down like crazy, and whenever she swallowed hard, she exhaled loudly and Baekhyun eventually chuckled. “You are definitely daddy's little girl. Daddy also eats too fast but watch out - don't want your tummy to hurt, hm, little Juna?”

When he was sure that both babies were well-fed, he threw a small glance at Jun who was still too peaceful. He wasn't asking for food and neither was he asking for attention. “Junnie, what's wrong?” he asked quietly, worry laced in his voice, and lifted him out of his crib. “Why are you so quiet? You don't want some yummy milk?” He brought the bottle up to his face, pressing the pacifier to the top of his lips. Jun was only bulging his eyes at his father, as if unsure what to do with the bottle. “You don't want a sip?”

Jun averted his gaze, observing everything around him in quietness. He was moving around in Baekhyun's arms, most probably meaning he was a little restless, so Baekhyun put him back down into the crib, hoping he would make a scene, but Jun only looked at the small toys that he had hovering above him. To make it more interesting for him, Baekhyun pushed a few of them, letting them dingle gently and taking Jun's attention.

Baekhyun sighed, unsure. While the babies were still in their peaceful mode after changing their nappies, he left them and went straight back to the kitchen to wash up the bottles and prepare some breakfast for the both of you, wanting to surprise you with breakfast in bed.

Of course, he underestimated the whole situation. It was now way past 8am and you were up, and rubbing your eyes at the bar table separating the kitchen from the open living room. “Honey, why didn't you wake me?” you asked, your voice still heavily laced with sleep.

Baekhyun turned his head to the left as he was washing the tomatoes. “Sweetheart, go back to bed. I'll bring the food to the bedroom,” he told you and turned the water off.

Not listening, you tapped over to him, observing and trying to decode his recipe, but Baekhyun put down the vegetables, turned to you and held you by your upper arms. “You. Bed. Now.”

“I'm fine, honey,” you insisted tiredly. “Let me just help you out- oh, and what about the triplets?”

“I took care of them,” he said somewhat proudly, happy that it was finally him attending to them while you could keep on sleeping.

You sighed. “You should be resting. You work a lot during the week-”

“And you cannot escape your work at all,” cut in Baekhyun, frowning. “I'm not going to ask you what has been bothering you the past couple of days, but let me at least help out like this.”

Instantly, you felt guilty. You were so tired you managed to forget your heavy emotions in your deep slumber. They all came back to you, taking a good, comfortable seat in the depths of your chest, no signs of leaving whatsoever. Not until you resolved them at least.

“I don't want to lie down,” you still protested and Baekhyun observed you for a moment, trying to see through you. Without another word, you stepped closer and hugged him, your arms stretching so you could connect your hands on his wide back. He didn't hesitate, and brought you to him, pecking the top of your head.

“What's the matter, hm,” he hummed softly into your ear. “You haven't been yourself.”

“I messed up,” you murmured into his chest and when he wanted to pull away, you squeezed him tighter, making him groan in mock hurt. “No, just stay like this a little longer.”

He brought up his hand to your head and gently caressed your hair. “How did you mess up?”

You took a deep breath. “I am a bad mother, Baekhyun. I can't do this.”

“No, sweetheart, that's nonsense and you know it, too,” he said, this time really trying to pry your arms away from him but you wouldn't budge, persisting on holding onto him. He tried again, but gave up when you shimmied yourself closer, causing him to step backwards. He sighed affectionately, his hand going back up to caress you.

“Jun got sick while I was working out and well… yeah, that happened. So I had to come home earlier on Thursday.”

Baekhyun tensed slightly at your words, but was fast to ease up. His son was alright now. There was no need to overreact. “Did Sukyeong bring you home then?” he asked, trying to sound unbothered.

It was your turn to tense up now. Baekhyun felt it, but did not comment, instead waited patiently for your answer. “The trainer brought me home,” you mumbled and he desperately wanted to see your face, but you were still glued to his chest. “But don't worry. I'm not going to work out anymore. Not until the munchkins are bigger at least.”

“Let me look at you, princess,” Baekhyn requested, tapping your butt gently. “C'mon, don't hide.”

You squeezed him one last time before slowly disattaching yourself, your big, sad eyes looking up at him while your lower lip was trapped under your teeth. “I'm sorry for disappointing you.”

He gave you a gentle smile as he cupped your face, breathing a kiss on your forehead. “Is this what's been bothering you?” You nodded, still bulging your eyes at him. “I'm such a jerk,” he sighed eventually, “it should have been me who brings you home on Thursday. Instead I came home super late and had you deal with everything by yourself.”

You started to shake your head violently. “No, Baekhyun, no, this isn't your fault.”

“Did the trainer come up here?” he shot quickly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

You shrugged. “He helped me bring the triplets up. So he had to come in.” You went on to explain to him what actually happened that day, keeping Baekhyun's eager eye contact the whole time. “I forgot to tell them,” you admitted, devastated. “I'm so frigging irresponsible.”

“That's why you had Junnie with you when I came back?” he asked quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You nodded, pressing your lips together in anxiety.

Baekhyun sighed. “Let's take him to the doctor's, hm?” he suggested and when he saw you nod again, he brought you back into a bear hug, your arms immediately sneaking around him. “And then you, little lady, will go to the doctor's about your breast milk, got it?” he asked, more seriously. He still didn't let the topic go but since you were both dealing with the problems now, he wanted to bring it up. “You're leaking too much and it's causing you discomfort. I don't care if you don't want help, but you need to see the doctor to make sure everything is in normal with your body.”

You pouted up at him and he chuckled softly, caressing your cheek. “Okay, you're right,” you eventually gave in and Baekhyun's smile grew even more, very much satisfied with your answer.

“That's my baby girl,” he breathed, pecking you on the lips.

“Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“You needed time to process, there is no need to apologize for that. It's my fault for letting my colleagues drag me when I knew I had responsibilities.”

Once again you cuddled yourself to him, and Baekhyun laughed again, humming in satisfaction when he had you like this. It was only until there was a knock on the entrance door, with it the doorbell ringing through the quiet apartment. If that wasn't enough to surprise you, the babies' reaction to the doorbell wasn't good, either, for at least two babies woke up right away, their whimpers coming in through the monitor.

You separated, moving to tend to the babies while Baekhyun went for the door. You were shushing Junhee, the forever crybaby, only calming down when she was finally in your grasp. Too curious as to who was the unexpected guest, you went to the room's door, peeking over the door frame just to completely freeze.

Baekhyun was facing Lee Junho, your trainer.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

A/N: Did you figure out the usage of "<3 and </3" ??? Huhu ^^ 

[fanfics4all]

Wedding Night

Request: Yes / No  Can you do a Oliver queen wedding and honeymoon imagine please 😜 by the way your writing is amazing @slytherinlyn13​

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Oliver Queen x Fem!Male!Reader 

Word count: 1939

Warnings: SMUT!

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

It was finally the day I was getting married. I remember the day Oliver Queen asked me to marry him. It was after a really close call of the world ended, but him and the rest of the supers saved everyone. During the celebration with everyone Oliver tapped his glass, gaining everyone’s attention. 

“I’d like to say great job to everyone, but that’s not the real reason I’d like your attention.” He said and I looked at him confused. He placed his glass down and turned to me, gently taking my hand. 

“Y/N, the moment I saw you for the very first time will always be stuck into my memory till the end of time, because that day changed my life. When we were paired up together in high school I honestly didn’t think much about you because, well, I was a different person back then. But then when I came back from the dead, as everyone though, I met you again and you helped me so much. You helped mold me into the man I am today without even realizing it. Even before you knew I was the Arrow, you were changing how I did things. I remember benign so scared to tell you about this part of my life, but you accepted it, always being in my corner. You encourage me to get up every morning and constantly help me become a better person in both my lives. You didn’t even bat an eye when William came to stay with us, you treated him as if he were your own. I know he loves you just as much as I do. That is why…” He said and got down on one knee. My eyes widened and I felt tears start to sting as I tried to desperately blink them away. 

“I am asking you, Y/N Y/L/N, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?” He asked and reviled an absolutely amazing ring. 

“Yes! Yes, of course Ollie!” I said and just let the happy tears fall. He placed the ring on my finger and I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a loving kiss. 

I smiled as I looked at myself in the mirror. I was dressed in my sleeveless, large dress, white heels, a rose gold necklace, and my white roses with some small purple ones in between. My hair was up in a bun with a loose braid connecting it. For my make up, I kept it simple, a light brown smokey eye, light blush, and a pink lip. 

Someone knocked on the door and I told them to come in. I turned around and Felicity looked at me with a smile. She was my maid of honor. 

“You look beautiful.” She said. 

“You do too.” I smiled back.

“It’s just about time, are you ready?” She asked and I nodded. 

“More than ever.” I said. 

“Great, John is ready at the door to walk you down.” She said and I nodded. 

“Thank you.” I said. She gave me one more smile and left the room. I looked back at the mirror and took a deep breath. I wished my parents could be here, but they unfortunately weren’t with us anymore. I walked outside and saw John standing near the door, just as Felicity said. I walked over to him and he gave me a big smile. 

“You look gorgeous.” He said and kissed my cheek. 

“You look very handsome yourself.” I smiled. He offered me his arms and I heard the music start to play. 

“Ready?” He asked as I took his arm. 

“More than.” I said and the doors opened. The two of us walked down the aisle and I kept my eyes on Oliver. John gave me away and I handed my bouquet to Felicity. Oliver grabbed my hands and the priest started with his speech. Finally it was time for our vows. 

“Y/N, from this moment, I take you as my best friend for life. I pledge to honour, encourage, and support you through our life together just as you’ve done for me. When our ways become difficult, I promise to stand by you and uplift you, just as you’ve done to me. I promise to work at our love and always make you a priority in my life. With every beat of my heart, I will love you.” Oliver said beautifully. 

“Oliver, today we begin our lives together. I promise here before our families and our friends to be your faithful wife. I choose to live with you as your lover, companion, and friend, loving you when life is peaceful, and when it’s painful. During our successes and during our failures. To support your strengths and accept your weaknesses. I will honor your goals and dreams, trying always, to encourage your fulfillment. I will strive to be honest and open with you, sharing my thoughts, and my life with you. I promise to love and cherish you from this day and forward.” I said and he smiled. 

“If anyone has any objections to these two joining in marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The priest said and no one said anything. 

“Then, with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” He said. Oliver pulled me close to him and gave me the most loving deep kiss. 

We enjoyed our time with our friends and family. The party was lovely and it was much needed for everyone. But as soon as it was over Oliver and I were off to our honeymoon. Oliver and I decided on going to Bora Bora and we got there when it was night. As soon as we checked in Oliver picked me up and carried me all the way up to our room.. When we entered the suite, the scene was set. The lights were dim and candles were burning on either side of the bed. There were a dozen roses in a vase on the table in the corner of the room. The bed had been turned and the corner of the covers had been pulled back, inviting us to lay in it. Oliver tossed me onto the bed and crawled on top of me. He kissed me and the electricity from his lips made my mind wander to what was about to happen. I felt his rough stubble scratch against my face and I sighed happily. I love him with stubble, more so with a beard, but he didn’t want to bring it back. He kissed me deeply, but gently, taking his time with my mouth, easing me into the thrill of the moment. He brushed a hand against my cheek softly. He kissed the side of my neck and I lifted my head, exposing the full length. He reached a hand up and placed it on my left breast, over the dress I had changed into before we left. 

He then moved his hand up to the back of my neck to pull me close to him. I pushed the straps on my dress down and let the top fall, exposing the green lingerie I picked out just for this night. He pulled off the rest of my dress and smirked at me. 

“Green?” He asked and I giggled slightly. 

“What? I thought it was perfect.” I said and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Let’s just get it off you.” He said and pulled to top off, exposing my naked breasts. He sucked on my nipple, squeezing the bottom of my breast passionately with one hand, and holding the other breast in his other hand. I looked down at him as he licked, sucked, and rubbed both of them. He worked himself into a frenzy playing with my breast, until he wanted more. He kissed me again and placed his hand over my clothed pussy. He smirked as he pulled the fabric from my body and tossed it to the ground. He started rubbing my wet pussy. He quickly pushed two fingers inside me and I moaned. He kissed my other nipple, giving it the same attention he gave the other one. He was sucking on one nipple and fingering me harder and harder. I was getting more and more excited for the moment he would penetrate me. He pulled his fingers away and started kissing me down my body. He pushed my legs apart and gazed at my wet and ready pussy. Two fingers spread my lips and his other two fingers rubbed my clit in strong circles. Each circle sent a shock wave through my body. He pushed his mouth on top of my pussy and flicked my clit. 

“Oh Ollie!” I moaned as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I arched my back and he pushed me back down. He took his time, enjoying himself. He watched me as I moaned and took pleasure in my every gasp. He kept licking my sensitive nub harder and harder. 

“Ollie!” I moaned again. He slid two fingers inside me again and pumped them in and out of me. 

“Oh fuck!” I moaned. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked. 

“Yes!” I moaned. He kept going, continuing to lick, suck, and moving his fingers inside me. I felt myself growing closer and closer with every movement. Then finally, with one hard flick of his tongue I felt it. The sweet release. I came all over his face with a moan, as my body quivered. He pulled his fingers out and removed his mouth as I laid on the bed, breathing heavily. He sat up and I saw my juices glistening on his face. My husband wiped his face and smiled down at me. He pulled my legs towards him and kissed me. He pulled back to undress his top half, I couldn’t believe they were on this whole time. He rubbed my inner thighs, brushing his hand against my tender pussy. He massaged my breasts once more before he finished undressing. His erection pointing straight towards the sky in excitement. He rubbed his tip against my pussy and I whimpered. I spread my legs further apart and he guided his shaft past my soft folds. He filled me and my body tried adjusting to his size once again. It always felt so right having him inside me. He moved in and out of me, slow and gentle. He was leaning on his hands and I looked down, watching his cock moving in and out of me. I threw my head back as his pace grew quicker. I moaned and gripped the sheets beneath me. I looked up at my husband and smiled. He brought his face down to mine and kissed me lovingly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down closer to me. His thrusts went harder and faster, each of us moaning into each other’s mouth. I felt my second orgasm growing closer and I started feeling his thrusts getting sloppy. He kept his pace as best as he could, bringing me to my orgasm. 

“Oh!” He moaned with a final thrust. His cock pulsed and I felt him fill me up. Our bodies pressed against each other and we held onto one another. A minute later he pulled out and laid down next to me. Oliver pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. 

“I love you, Mrs. Queen.” He said with a smile. 

“I love you too, Mr. Queen.” I said and kissed him again. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @lovelywordsblog​

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“New Moon” - Jasper Hale Miniseries: Part 1

As I got ready for bed, I had an eerie feeling. A feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake. I felt like something was wrong, but nothing was wrong. Not one thing was wrong. I just began my sophomore year of university, things were going well. Jasper and I were doing better than ever, but also something was wrong. Something was off, but he wouldn’t tell you what it was exactly. No matter how many times you’d ask, you’d get the same answer. 

 “Nothing important. Don’t worry doll.” 

 Well it was hard to listen to that. As every day passes, he was getting distant. 

 Everything changed when Edward found his mate, Bella. Jasper had something to say from the start, but it was clearly deeper than that. 

 Today he barely answered me again, a pattern for the last week. I feel so horrible, this change in him is killing me. My once sweet, loving, and affectionate boyfriend has barely been around the last four days. I feel so dramatic, but it’s deeper than that. 

 Then I heard it. My phone vibrated on my desk. I hoped it was Jasper as I practically ran to it. 

 “Sorry for not answering all day. I’m on my way to your dorm now.” 

 My heart sank to my stomach. Yes I was happy to see him, but I just knew something was wrong. He never treated me like this. 

 “(Y/N)..” I heard from the corner by my window.

 “Jasper?” I say, almost not believing he was really there. 

 He walks over to me, hugging me. I grabbed him like my life depended on it. My grip was so tight it was hurting me. I didn’t care. I needed my mate here. His ice cold skin felt like home, no matter how sad he was making me. After finally pulling away, I look up at him. His eyes black from probably not eating, his face showed an extreme amount of distress, and just a sad look all together. I was really getting worried.

 “I have to be honest with you.”

 The sound of his voice made my heart flutter, but the words made me sick. I felt like I was going to be sick, I couldn’t help it.

“Please.” I beg him.

“Well, you know Edward has been struggling with Bella. She’s his mate, but he’s unable to handle it. You know, the whole wanting to kill the one you love thing.” His voice trails off.

I just nod and wait for him to keep talking. But, he sits us down on my bed. This can’t be good, sitting me down so I don’t freak out? Get sick? Faint?

“(Y/N), I just want you to know that I tried. I argued, I tried and did what I could. But what I decided is the best option for now. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I really need you to trust me.” He said to me with pleading eyes.

“I trust you, Jasper.” I said with tears starting to run down my cheeks.

“Edward has to leave. He can’t handle it, he thinks it’s too dangerous.” He said calmly.

“What?” I said, knowing where this conversation was going.

“We have to go with him, I didn’t want to. But it’s what we have to do for the safety of all of us. We can’t have her expose us, I can’t let you get hurt. I don’t need the Volturi in our business, especially if it will put you in harm’s way.” He told me.

“Jasper..” I said, reaching my hand out to him. I was barely able to say a word to him, my world was crumbling beneath me.

“You need to stay to finish school. You will see me again, I will be here for you. I will make sure you’re okay. But, I can’t be here with you. We can’t see each other for a while (Y/N). I will be here for your graduation whether this is over or not, because then you can come with us. I’m not letting you leave school behind for this. You need to do this, for yourself, for me, and most importantly-- your family. I can’t ask you, nor will I let you throw this on a back burner. I’m so sorry darling, but this is the only way to make sure you’re safe and fulfilling your life goals. I’m just so sorry it has to be this way.” He said, voice cracking at the end.

“Jasper, you can’t leave me. You can’t!” I said, unable to breathe.

 He held me in his arms, he held me in the only home I needed.

“I’m so very sorry, I am. It just has to be this way for now. I’ll be back with you soon, I just don’t know when. Two years or less, doll.” He said to me, trying to comfort me.

That would still feel like forever without him. Jasper was my air, he kept me afloat when I was sinking. He was saying that like it was an hour. This was a nightmare.

“Jasper, please. Don’t do this to me.” I begged again.

“(Y/N), I have no choice. Your life is worth more than anything to me. I will be back with you soon. I have already fought with my family for days, trying to figure out another way. There just is no other way. It’s temporary…” His voice cracked at the end. I know it hurt him as much as it hurt me, to be without his mate. This was going to be difficult.

“When do you leave?” I ask, voice shaking.

“Tomorrow morning. I’m here to spend the night with you, but then I have to leave.”

Tomorrow? That was too soon, it’s not enough time for a goodbye. It’s never going to be enough time. But then I realized, where the hell was I going to live after the next semester ends? I dormed at my school and on breaks I lived at the Cullen’s home. I had to find somewhere to live, somewhere to move into within the next couple of months.

“You’re gonna miss Christmas with me..” I said, voice giving out on me.

“I’m so sorry.”

He felt my wave of anxiety wash over him, as he rubbed circles into the back of my hand.

“I brought stuff with me. In the backpack there’s enough money for rent, living, and anything else you’ll need. I found you an apartment I thought you’d like, in a safe area. I left some things I want you to keep with you in there, too.” He tells me, motioning to the backpack at the window. I never noticed it when he came in, but that’s probably because I saw him and only him. This room could’ve been on fire and I wouldn’t have noticed.

“Jasper, please.” I said with pleading eyes one more time.

“(Y/N), you know this is what has to be done. Please, can we please have a nice last night together?” He asked me, no begging me.

I nodded and buried my face into his chest. His hands held me close to him, but this would never be close enough. Especially since he was leaving me.

“Can you tell me where you’re going?” I ask, my voice muffled against his body.

“You know I can’t. I’m so sorry to be leaving you in the dark.”

He laid me down in my bed and held me tight. We listened to our favorite music. I touched every inch of his face, his arms, his hands. I wanted to take all of his beauty in before he left me indefinitely with no contact, as if he never existed. I was so sick to my stomach from this situation, but being next to Jasper always made me feel at peace, like things were right in the world. It almost felt like he wasn’t leaving.

I tried so hard not to fall asleep, as I didn’t want to waste any time with the last night with my love. We spent hours just looking at each other, touching each other just to know the other was real. Just to feel that we were still there. Laying on his chest in his arms always made me sleepy, and tonight unfortunately was no exception. I felt groggy and fell asleep in his arms.

          Jasper’s POV

As the sun began to rise, I knew I had to leave. It was a dreadful feeling, but I knew it was something I had to do. I kissed (Y/N)’s forehead and held a piece of her beautiful hair in my hands. I took a polaroid picture of us off her desk and headed towards the window.

“Goodbye Darlin’.” I whispered before I hopped out of her window for the last time in the foreseeable future.

I looked back up at her dorm room window and wanted so badly to just go back in, to just stay, but I couldn’t. All because my brother couldn’t control himself, or even make up his mind. If I could cry, I’d be sobbing by now. Leaving my mate all alone with no warning is breaking me worse than anything else has. I was officially living in a Hell worse than Maria’s twisted entrapment. This blew any previous suffering of mine out of the water. Nothing compared to this pain, and there’s nothing I could do to fix it.

“I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). I promise.” I whisper to the window one last time before running back to my family, leaving my reason for existence behind.

*************

Word Count; 1614 

hello everyone, I wanted to do this for a little while now. I turned it into a miniseries because it ended up being quite lengthy. I hope you all enjoy. 

[noladyme]

The Princess Frog. Chapter 14

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

14

“Wolrunn!”, Geralt snarled. “Your grandchildren’s mother is healed; and they are on their way to a safe place. Just as I promised. Now I ask you to grant me this one favor in return!”.

The large alpha werewolf snarled; and the smaller beasts began circling us. “And the girl?”, it barked. Geralt exhaled. “If she wants to return, she will. She knows how to find you”, he said. “But is she…”, the wolf began. “She is still wolf”, Geralt yelled. “When she wants to be. Your bloodline is saved, should she ever choose to become a mother”.

Wolrunn barked; and his children backed up. He sniffed the air. “You have brought company”, he growled. Geralt grunted. “It is as I said. We need safe passage”. The wolf stepped closer to us; baring it’s teeth at me. “For the queen of Temeria”, he snarled. “I should eat our heart, woman!”.

Geralt began drawing his sword. “Over my dead body”, he snarled. The beast seemed to chuckle. “That can be arranged”.

I gulped. “Why?”, I yelped. “Why do you want to kill me?”. I pried myself from Geralts grasp – a difficult task, as his fingers where digging into my jerkin to keep me in place. “Let me down, witcher”, I muttered; and squeezed his hand. “Little frog…”, he whispered. “Let me down”, I repeated. Geralt slowly let go of me; and I got on the ground in front of the werewolf.

It was large – to look it in the eyes I would have to lift my head all the way back. But I didn’t. I kept my head low, looking at the ground – showing my inferiority to him. “The riders that are coming…”, I began. “Y/N!”, Geralt growled. I shrugged him off. “They are here for me”, I continued. “They want to give me to Nilfgaard; for them to win the war”. The beast scoffed. “I have no issues with Nilfgaard. My kind is welcome there”, Wolrunn snarled. “And yet you stay here”, I said. “You are bound to this place for some reason… you don’t want to leave”. “We want peace! To be with our own!”, the wolf barked at me; making me jump.

I exhaled slowly; still looking down. “Nilfgaard will not bring peace, you know that”, I whispered. “They will not let you stay here. They will run you away, as they run away every non-human from their homes”. Wolrunn growled. “As does Temeria. And Cintra. And Skellige…”. I flinched at his mention of my homeland. “Yes”, I whispered. I got on my knees and tilted my head; baring my neck. “But not by right. Only by cruelty and arrogance. Something that has always been, and always will be”.

The wolf huffed. “Why do you bare your neck to me, woman? Make yourself less than?”, he asked. I swallowed. “Because you are a wolf. An alpha; and the leader of your pack”, I said. “And I see only two outs of this situation. Either you kill us; or I hope I can show you my insignificance, so you will let us live”. “You are a queen…”, the wolf said. For the first time; I looked him in the eyes. “I am not your queen”, I said.

Wolrunn began laughing. “You are something else, woman! Are you sure you’re human?”, he said; and leant in to sniff at me – his large frame casting a shadow over me. I felt his warm breath – which smelled like raw meat – on my face and neck. “You don’t smell… human”. “I am”, I said. “But I am also something else. Something I don’t know much about myself.

The wolf growled; and opened its gigantic mouth; putting it to my exposed neck. I felt his teeth touching my skin – but did not move. I could feel Geralts eyes on me and heard his breath hitching.

Wolrunn pulled back. “Go”, he said. “Do not come back here. If you do, I will let my children have you”. I gulped, and nodded.

I grabbed Geralts outstretched hand, and got on Roach behind him. “Let’s go”, he muttered. And we sped off, going around the rocky mound that was the wolves lair. Behind me I could hear riders approaching the mound, followed by loud howls and growling. Men were screaming and I was sure I heard bones cracking from flesh being torn from them.

“Don’t listen, little frog”, Geralt muttered. ”Just hold on to me”.

---

We proceeded to go north. I was holding on fiercely to the witcher; who didn’t say a word to me the whole time. We stopped hours later at the bank of a lake. We hadn’t seen a human being or creature of any kind since we left the wolves; and I was sure we were miles away from anyone.

I got of Roach, and stumbled down to the water; falling to my knees in front of it; shaking. I used the water to wash my face and neck; rubbing my skin until it was almost red – trying to calm my breath. Suddenly; I felt Geralts hand on my shoulder, pulling me back, and pressing me to the ground. His mouth was on my lips; violently kissing me, and pressing his tongue against mine.

“Geralt…”, I managed. “Stupid woman!”, he growled; and ripped at the leather strings keeping my pants together at my hips. “Fucking…”, he began, before his words turned into a roar. Pressing his lips to mine once more; he grabbed at my pants; pulling them down, and getting one of my legs free. His hand grabbed at my core – continuously kissing me and rubbing me – trying to get me as wet as possible; before he freed himself from his breeches, and pushed into me with a snarl.

“Fuck…”, I moaned, and threw my hands around his shoulders. He wouldn’t have it. He grabbed my wrists and held them with one hand over my head; as he kept thrusting into me; seeking his angry release. “Geralt, please…”, I mewled; my loins aching with sweet pain. His other hand found my throat, and he squeezed it – just enough to make me feel completely at his mercy. “Don’t talk”, he snarled. His hips where slamming against my backside, as I was laying with my knees lifted in the air; and his cock was relentlessly excavating my insides. It was so brutal – and felt so good!

He pressed himself into me; making me quiver and heave for breath. I wanted him to touch me; but he wouldn’t move his hands, not matter how much I struggled. In sheer frustration, I pushed my head forward – straining against his hold on my throat – and bit into his neck; just hard enough for him to let go of me. He lifted his head, and looked at me with a mix of rage and pure lust in his eyes. He pulled out, and forcefully turned me over with a snarl; before pounding back into me from behind – still holding me down.

His moves became faster and harder – and though not a single moan came from his lips – his snarling and groans let me know he was close. I was just about sobbing from the delicious but brutal attack; and mewled his name – leading him to slam into me three final times; and then, with a final screaming roar, he came inside me; and then just pulled out.

I laid on my back; looking up at the sky. “Was that my punishment? For putting myself in danger?”, I breathed. “What?”, he grumbled next to me. “Not letting me come? Is that how you punish me?”.

He sat up and looked at me. “Punishment? You think I would punish you?”. I sighed. “You’re angry with me. So, you fucked me without letting me come. Or is that just how witchers make love?”. He sneered at me. “You almost got killed. Again. You bared your neck to that wolf”, he snarled. “You keep risking your life without any concern for the repercussions for yourself or anyone else”.

I sat up, and looked at him angrily. “I was saving our lives!”. “You were being…”, he began. “Say it!”, I sneered. He met my eyes. “Do you know… what I would have to do, if you died?”, he said. I scoffed. “Well, you wouldn’t get paid”, I snarled. His face dropped. “Is that still why you think I am here?”, he said.

“You left!”, I screamed. “You left me behind. No note or message to let me know you were coming back”. I clenched my jaw. “You left…”. His expression softened. “I left you a message with the barman”, he muttered. “I’m sorry…”. I could hardly hear his voice. I looked down. “I didn’t know”, I said. “They took us from the tavern before I could ask him”.

Geralt exhaled deeply. “That girl. Ylva”, he said. “She had heard I was back in Maribor, and came to find me. She needed my help”. “The werewolf…”, I muttered. He nodded. “Her father… He was Wolrunns son”, the witcher continued. “He was one of the last sons he had who could still sheed his wolf form. He had a shop in Maribor; wanting to live with humans. That’s where he met his wife; and she gave birth to their children”. “What happened”, I said quietly. “Ylva was beginning to turn wolf at the full moon. It is usually how it begins; when you are not born by a wolf mother. He wanted me to heal her – to clear her of what he saw as a curse”. Geralt sighed. “I managed to convince him that I couldn’t; and that she should be allowed to live as what she was. The girl is stubborn and strong – like someone else I know”, he said, and smirked at me.

I laughed quietly. “So she learnt how to control it?”, I asked. “She was beginning to, from training with her father”, he answered. “By now, she has full control. Her grandfather has helped her in that”. “He can shift back?”, I wondered. “He chooses not to”, Geralt answered. “Pride”. I nodded.

“But how did she come to meet Wolrunn? If her father was keeping them away from his pack?”. The witcher sighed, and looked at me with hard eyes. “Once the guard commander heard news that the merchant had hired a witcher, he had him followed – and realized he was wolf, as he was training with Ylva in the fields”. He clenched his jaw. “I had left by then. I shouldn’t have”. I took his hand. His eyes were pained – angry. “The guards killed the man; but not before he had managed to get his family out; telling them to go to Wolrunn”. He squeezed my hand. “And the 4000 oren?”, I muttered. He raised a brow at me. “I took half of it”, he said. “It was a contract; but I didn’t do the job he had asked me to. I only guided him in another direction. So, full pay was out of the question. That’s how it works”. He snarled again. “Flaxon must have taken the rest”. I nodded. “Of course. I’d never think…”. “I know you wouldn’t”, he said and removed a strand of hair from my face. “Flaxon was always corrupt. Always wanted more than his position could get him. That’s probably why he is working with O’Dimm”.

I frowned. “But the mother. She became wolf”, I said. “Ylva told me one of her uncles bit her last year”, he said. “She’d begun changing at the full moon; but was never able to control it. And she was becoming a danger to the boy”. “He is not wolf?”, I asked. “He takes after the human side of the family”, Geralt chuckled.

I nodded. “Will Ylva go back to the pack?”, I asked. Geralt shook his head. “For her sake – and for theirs – I hope not”, he answered. “Wolrunn is the last of the pack able to change at will – except for Ylva. They have inbred to keep the bloodline going, and have become more wolf than were”. “I understand”, I said.

He looked at me with a sad expression. “I was coming back for you”, he grumbled. “We promised each other until the end of this journey. The journey isn’t over, little frog”. I smiled embarrassedly. “I knew. I suppose I just needed a reminder…”.

He exhaled. “I believe I just gave you one”, he said with a smirk. “Did you, though?”, I said. “Seems you were the only one getting any form of release”. “Did you not like it?”, he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”. I shook my head. “You didn’t. Not in any way I didn’t want you to…”, I said. “But… you didn’t exactly let me find my own relief”. His face hardened again. “You think I would ever have you, and not leave you satisfied?”, he growled. He got on his knees in front of me; and began pushing me to lay down. “What gave you the idea that I was finished with you?”.

My breath hitched, as he lowered his face to my warmth; and ran his fingers from my knees to my core. “Lay still, little frog…”, he muttered, “…or I won’t answer for the consequences”.

His tongue slid between my folds, from my entrance to my nub, and back again. Letting his tongue enter me lightly – massaging the beginning of my tunnel – his fingers began rubbing at my clit; making me gasp in response. I lifted my hips to meet his movements; but he placed one arm across them; forcing me to the ground. “Lay. Still”, he said, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “Good”, he said, and returned his tongue to my folds.

Lapping at my insides, and rubbing my bundle of nerves; it wasn’t long before I was beginning to see stars – and I involuntarily kicked my leg into the air, from my beginning orgasm. “If you keep moving, I will have to tie you down”, he said into me; making me gasp from the delicious thought of it. “Oh, please”, I breathed. He chuckled. “Maybe some other time”, he said. “Right now, I just want to see you come like this”.

He attacked my entrance again; and kept lapping and rubbing at me. His groans and warm breath alongside this, drew me closer and closer – until I felt my core explode from delicious relief.

“That’s it. Let go”, Geralt groaned; and slid two fingers into me – pushing upwards; and drawing my pleasure out. He crawled up my body; still moving his fingers inside me; making me almost black out from the sensation. “Your face… so beautiful like this”, he said. “I want to be inside you again”.

He removed his fingers; and replaced them with his penis; softly thrusting into me, drawing my orgasm out until it was almost unbearable. “I can’t…”, I panted. “You… so much…”. “You can, and you will”, he groaned. “You’re going to keep coming around me so I can come with you”.

I cried out, feeling my body spasm – the area surrounding my vagina and inside it, literally feeling like it had its own heartbeat. “Keep going!”, Geralt groaned; and when I finally screamed and lost control of my limbs – slamming my hands and feet into the ground – he cried out, and once again came inside me.

I was breathing superficially; as he pulled himself out – accidentally touching my clit in the process; making me jolt violently, and cry out. “It’s all right”, he whispered; and wrapped me in his arms. “You’re all right”. He kissed my cheek, and looked into my eyes; the amber of his, soft and gentle. “I knew you could do it”.

---

Geralt let me treat the wound to his side. It had already begun healing; but I wrapped it with some honeysuckle and chamomile.

“I’m going to want you again later”, Geralt said, as I was cleaning up by the bank of the lake – making me jump at the thought. He smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”, he said. “But I will have to say goodbye to you soon, so I intend to spend as much time as I can inside you”. I smirked. “You’ll be the ruin of me, witcher”, I said. He came over; and wrapped his arms around me from behind; kissing my neck. “I was planning on it”, he chuckled.

He held on to me as I tied the strings of my pants; inhaling deeply. “Why do you smell so much like Jaskier?”, he asked. “I know you’ve ridden together, but still…”. I snickered nervously. “Yes, well…”, I said. “We needed to fool the guards”. He turned me around; and raised a brow at me. “And?”. “And…”, I answered, “… I had him take off his shirt, and crawl into bed with me. To make them think we’d… don’t make me say it”, I frowned.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and looked at me menacingly. “Oh, you’ll say it”, he snarled. “Or what, you’ll punish me again?”, I jeered. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You think that was punishment?”. He grabbed one of my ass-cheeks. “Woman; I have torture-methods you can’t even begin to dream of…”. I bit my lip and smiled. “You’re not getting out of this”, he said. I turned my smile into an innocent pout. “I could always just beat it out of Jaskier…”. “Fine!”, I said. “Jaskier had me every which way; and I’ve never had it better”. The witcher bared his teeth at me. “I’m joking, Geralt”, I said.

He narrowed his eyes again. Then he lifted me up; and began walking into the water; making it splash around us. “Geralt, no!”, I yelped; struggling to hold on to him, if he should drop me. “It’s freezing! Please, I’m sorry!”. “I know you’re sorry; and you’ll be even more sorry in a second”, he growled. “No! Please, no!”, I screamed.

“Is everything all right here?”, a voice called. Geralt turned us around. A redheaded young man on a horse was looking down at us.

“Crach!”, I yelped. Geralt looked at the man in recognition. He walked us back on dry land; and put me down. Crach got of his horse, and ran at me; embracing me and lifting me into the air. “Y/N, what in Hel’s ass are you doing here, cousin?”, he asked. “You’re supposed to be getting married!”. I laughed. “I’m on my way”, I said. Crach raised a brow at me, and looked towards Geralt. “Reluctantly, it seems”, he chuckled.

I remembered myself. “Right”, I said. “Geralt, this is Crach an Craite, my cousin…”. “First – once removed”, Crach interrupted. I smacked his shoulder. “Thank you”, I jeered. “Crach, this…”.

“Is Geralt of Rivia. The White Wolf”, my cousin interrupted again. “We’ve met. The witcher interrupted my wedding last year”, he smirked. I remembered hearing that the plans for Crach to marry princess Pavetta, had been broken off. I supposed being pregnant with another man, had been a dealbreaker. In the end; Crach had found himself another young lady to continue his ginger bloodline with. Geralt frowned. “I think you’ll find that the law of surprise did that”, he said. Crach laughed out loud. “Yeah, you’re right”, he barked. “The girl was too scrawny for me anyway. I like them plump, and with a little less of a stick up their arse”.

“So, you’ve met?”, I asked. “Not officially”, Geralt answered. He began packing up Roach’s saddlebags. He was being broody, and I didn’t like his sour expression. I decided to ignore him.

“Crach, why are you here?”, I asked. “To see my cousin become a queen, my geneth”. I punched him hard in the shoulder. “Do you remember what happened last time you called me a girl? I can see your nose still has the bump, from where I broke it”. Crach grinned. “She’s got a heavy hand, this one”, he said to Geralt. “I’ve noticed”, the witcher muttered.

Crach patted my back, making me stumble from the force, and laugh. “Come! Me and my lads are holed up in a tavern a few miles north of here”. “Then why are you here?”, I asked. Crach smirked. “There was millers’ daughter, a little way up the river”, he said. Of course there was, I smiled to myself.

Crach got on his horse. “Ride with me cousin!”. He reached his hand down to me, and I took it; heaving myself into the saddle behind him. “Oof! You’ve gained weight, lassie!”, he jested; and I pulled his hair in retaliation. I turned around to look at Geralt. “Let’s go!”, I smiled. “I’m right behind you”, he grumbled; and mounted Roach, as Crach kicked at his own gelding; driving him forward in a gallop.

---

We arrived at the inn Crach had mentioned, to a warm welcome. Most of the men with Crach, I’d met before – with a few of them even having tried to get up my skirts. It had never worked out, as either Eist or Crach had had friendly conversations with them; that usually ended up with a black eye on the potential suitor.

“Well, if it isn’t the foulmouthed princess of the Skellige isles!”, one of them – Thorstein – jeered. “Hel’s ass; please tell me that hasn’t reached Kaer Trolde”, I said embarrassedly. The men all laughed. “We heard it first in Cintra”, Crach said. “I knew it could be about no one else”. “Face of a princess, mouth of a sailor”, Thorstein laughed; saluting me with his mug.

I turned to see where Geralt was; but he had placed himself at another table in the corner. I went to stand by him. “Come sit with me”, I said. “No”, he said. My heart dropped. “Why?”, I almost whimpered. Geralt looked up at me with hard eyes. “It seems it is time for goodbyes”, he said. “What?”, my voice broke. Geralt grunted. “Your cousin can take you the rest of the way to Vizima”, he said. “We are close enough for you to be safe”.

I sat down in front of him. “You promised me until the journey was over”, I whispered. “And it is, little frog”, he said below his breath. I was finding it difficult to breathe. My whole body was shivering from a sudden chill. “Why now?”, I croaked. “Crach and his men are more than capable of transporting you from here on”, he said. “If I continue on with you… It makes no sense. And you should be brought to your husband by a guard of men from your homeland. It’s proper”. I scoffed. “The fuck do you care about proper suddenly?”, I spattered. “Through the gates of Vizima, we said. You hand me over…”. “No”.

It was like a punch to the gut. “Geralt…”. “My lady, go to your guard. They’re expecting you”. “No…”, I tried.

He rose to his feet. “It’s done. I wish health on your marriage”.

He stroked my cheek softly, let his fingers linger on my neck for a second; and then walked out the door, without looking back.

Outside the window; the snow had begun to fall.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

 Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel​

[whenwegounnoticed]

My Turn To Talk About VioletVineyard, MVCreates, and the Glaring Problems of Power Imbalances.

Introduction

I have been on the fence about talking about my experiences, on one hand, because one of her mods and I are or maybe were (?) friends, and I valued their friendship but in recent light, I don’t know and because I want my main to be a safe place for other writeblrs and because I am afraid.

I was in VioletVineyard at the beginning of it -- and being in it did not feel good for reasons I could never put my finger on.

Let's talk about me and who I am first without giving myself away:

I have a disorder that makes expressing myself difficult, this is due to childhood trauma and a form of self preservation. My wording will be clunky because only recently, with the help of amazing friends, I'm learning the right verbage.

Now. Some of you will know who I am. Hello. Please keep me anonymous. Some of you might have a guess. Hello. Surprised? Maybe you're wrong. I don't know, I'm not in your head just as you're not in mine.

I have screenshots for some stuff and none for others. These are all personal experiences.

I will not be sharing the screenshots of those who were victims to respect their privacy.

Please bear with me. I know this will be long and rambly, but it’s how I make sense of my thoughts and brain.

VioletVineyard: Questionable Reality

I joined VV at the start of it, although it was already pretty big. I was excited! I admired many writeblrs who were in there and wanted to be friends with many of them. They were all so welcoming. And I felt, for a hot minute, like I belonged.

It was sprint of my freshman semester as a journalism major, and Mina reached out to me in the general chat, saying that if I needed help or wanted an In at some journalism company, to let her know because she knows people.

Great! Cool. A little odd but that was nice of her -- and.

That's how it starts.

A side: my friend has a theory that if people only present how perfect and amazingly nice they are, they likely are rotting on the inside. Nobody is ever perfect and always super nice, do not trust them. I do not subscribe to this but it is a thought in my mind now.

It took a week of me being there for the not right feeling set in.

First:

There was drama.

She would start it. She'd vague in the vent about someone and then outright state who she was talking about. And it would be about someone whose opinions she disagreed with. People would go and send anons or they'd bitch about whoever was the victim in the vent channel.

I don't remember if I participated but if I did, I am truly and genuinely sorry.

I think I got stressed two weeks in. I was already ill from invisible physical problems. The server felt horribly unmoderated.

I remember saying something because Mina was doing it again and being told,

"Then support in here."

Mostly innocent right? You support your friends, right?

It wouldn't have been a problem if:

The victim did something wrong.

Mina and this person weren't in their goddamn 30s or near that. They have a child, by the way.

The person was at least under 20.

From my scattered memory, the issue was OP either slightly vagued abt Mina or she just disgreed with OP.

Lots of red flags, right?

"But OP why did you stay?"

Emotional masochism? Fear? Because she, either knowingly or unknowingly cultivated this sort of atmosphere? I cannot speak for anyone else, but that's the reasoning for me.

There was, also, in the beginning, a hope that maybe things would change. Varying personalities, you know? And a desperate need for validation.

So, so wrong.

MVCreates & OP

So, get to the point OP. What happened to you?

A vague threat.

Mina....had Opinions. And opinions are just that, opinions but for her, they were fact. After all, she has her own reality and own story that helped form hers but some of hers were odd. Maybe not to most people who aren’t paying attention or didn’t notice the red flags ( “through rose colored glasses, all red flags just look like flags”) but they were definitely something.

She, for awhile, talked an awful lot about writeblr positivity. I could never really make sense of it -- she either supported it or was against it, from what I remember. (keep in mind, this was a little over a year ago and visually, I can see the gaudy green - red - yellow colors for pronoun preferences).

And I made a vague post about it and her. A few times. I was in the wrong for vaguing about her instead of just saying something up front.

Her response was, and I will paraphrase,

“Do you ever screenshot people vaguing about you just in case they enter a political career?”

I wish I had taken a screenshot. I’m sorry now that I did not. Maybe someone saw that, maybe they brushed it off. I don’t know.

From then on, I kept quiet about my thoughts and opinions because I did have plans to go into a political career -- but jokes on her, I plan on being a human rights officer for the United Nations lmao

Another incident (we’re almost done, I promise):

I was -- venting about gender dysphoria. I was Peak Suicidal at this point in time, just knowing what I was born with brought me to tears frequently. Mina had jumped into in the conversation and started talking about something vaguely related. She started talking about trans BIPOC experiences, which is great! Their experiences are things that need to be talked about because they are often thrown to the side for trans white people’s experiences and that is not okay.

I forget the middle part, it’s been over a year. It went from BIPOC experiences to something else, a conversation about gender? I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone out there who remembers. I doubt it though.

I remember saying, “I wish I would have been born with testicles and everything else because [I’m in hell?]” and she answered with,

“That would [mean / cause / ???? ] privilege.”

This person who has claimed she is non binary, claimed to be a trans ally and part of the trans community, said that to someone in the height of dysphoria and was suicidal.

You do not say that to someone who is experiencing gender dysphoria. To say that is transphobia. And yes, trans & non binary people can be transphobic. You are not exempt.

Violet Vineyard & Reprehensible Behaviors

Before I start this section, and I promise this is almost done, I just want to thank:

@radley-writes​, @gingerly-writing​, @lilquill​, @sapiencenotes​  @rrrawrf-writes​ & many more who have come forward about their experiences, whether publicly and in private. It’s admirable and brave of you to do something I could not. @nuwuhorizons​ & @time-to-write-and-suffer​ have amazing documentation as well.

There isn’t much to say that hasn’t already been said and documented, but I can corroborate the bullying Mina and the mods engaged in -- the stuff Radley spoke about I did not know about -- and that makes me ill. I’m glad they owned up to what they did, and for that, thank you Radley. It shows you are a much bigger and better person.

I will not lie, however -- I was hurt and felt a bit ill when you talked about what the mods did. And it made me question and second guess a friendship I have (had?) with another mod. But I think that helped put some pieces of the puzzle together.

 An incident that stands out to me (and honestly bothers me, so a few people have heard about this often and I’m sorry), very clearly and I have screenshots for but will not share to protect their privacy, was when they dogpiled someone who had been asking about writing a Jewish character. While they were falling into somewhat harmful stereotypes, VV was handling it.

Not well.

The person was a minor, for one -- teenagers make mistakes, they make them more if they’re not exposed to varying cultures and beliefs. And the person who was on the receiving end of this dogpile looked to be coming more and more unstable and all I could do is just. Grab screenshots of what I could.

And if you’re reading this, you know who you are, I am so sorry I didn’t say anything. That wasn’t right, the entire situation wasn’t okay. You shouldn’t have gone through that. I hope you find healing and peace.

A quick disclaimer: Violet Vineyard, as far as I know, didn’t have a lot of Jewish members. I know a mod was converting (but hadn’t yet) and I think I saw one or two people with the Star of David in their name or icon. That said, my paternal grandmother was Jewish and had been one of the few survivors of her family from the Holocaust. I cannot speak for the entire Jewish population, and I do not consider myself Jewish in religion but trust me when I say this:

YHWH would be disappointed in their (VV’s) behavior -- and if the moderator who is working on converting is genuine about converting, then I need them to think long and hard  about what is happening. This isn’t what Judaism teaches. And if you’re reading this, ask yourself, would G-d condone the actions of your fellow ex mods?

Final Words

Oof, this was long, wasn’t it? Must have been hard to sit through because I ramble! So. What’s left for me to say?

Not a whole lot but still, a lot but the stuff I want to say are not my lived experiences. It is not my place to speak on behalf of anyone else involved in all of this. And that is okay.

But to the people who were involved with the recent drama and dogpiled a trans teenager and to those who helped bully many people in this community on behalf of the oh so great Mina,

my question is  why?

What was a thirty year old woman, WHO HAS A CHILD, bullying a nineteen year old? Why was an almost thirty year old person with a toddler and one on the way involved in this as well?

Most or a decent handful of you were adults, some with children, some expecting. 

And Mina,

You used your age and position to manipulate people and for that, I find you the most reprehensible. Castor did not deserve what happened, neither did the victim mentioned above. Nobody did. 

I hope, in the end, you finally find happiness without having to lie about your talent and without having to manipulate people.

Thank you for listening and sticking around if you made it this far and didn’t bounce in the beginning.

I’ve said my part. If anyone wants to engage in constructive discussion or share their experiences, feel free to do so.

[songofsoma]

In Perpetuum et Unum Diem

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: ava du mortain x cecilia beck rating: mature word count: 4,631 

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

read it on ao3

It seemed like her eyes had just closed as sleep overcame her when a servant came bustling into the room.

The noise of the intrusion jolted Cecilia awake, sitting up quickly, as she clutched furs to her body, covering the bareness of her breasts. Ava was still stretched out over the mattress, seemingly unaffected as she watched them both through a frame of thick, blonde lashes.

The servant’s lips parted as if she was going to say something, but the words died in her throat the moment her gaze settled on how the noblewoman was exposed from the waist up. Her attention flitted between the two ladies in bed, a look of horror beginning to seep into her features.

Furrowing her brows, Cecilia yanked the blankets to cover up Ava, the idea of the servant’s ogling of her lover made a fire blaze within her belly.

“Well,” Ava began with a grumble. Irritation finally leaking into every word. “You have woken us both, quite unjustly may I add. What do you want?” The tips of her fingers found the warmth of Cecilia’s lower back. She had to bite back a shiver at the coolness of Ava’s touch.

“M-my apologies, m’lady.” The woman curtsied hurriedly, clearly wanting to escape the current situation. “Lady Nestoria has requested Lady Cecilia’s presence in her parlor.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened as she looked over at Ava. The message seemed to have dragged her from the haze of sleepiness she had previously been prisoner to.

“Tell my mother that we will join her soon,” she said after a moment.

The servant didn’t seem satisfied as she shifted her weight. “Actually, my Lady, she specifically asked for Lady Cecilia’s presence alone.”

A bitter chill infiltrated the air surrounding Ava and the hand that had been caressing her back stiffened. Cecilia swore ice would begin to harden her lashes if she allowed this to continue for much longer.

Squashing down her nerves, Cecilia put on the politest smile she could muster. “Of course. Please tell her how delighted I am for the invitation and that I shall not keep her waiting long.”

The woman curtsied once more, giving the two one last wary glance before scurrying out of the room.

With a heavy sigh, Cecilia dropped the furs back into her lap. The sun peeking through the window began to warm a patch of skin on her shoulder.

“I shall go with you.” It sounded as if Ava’s decision was set in stone.

She shook her head. “No, you will not.”

There was no need to look at her face to know the deep scowl that would have settled on her lips at the disagreement.

“I am not going to throw you to the dogs, Cecilia.” The heavy wood of the bed creaked under Ava’s shifting weight as she sat up.

Cecilia managed a small smile, turning to meet her gaze. “My love, you are not  throwing me to the dogs . There is no need for such dramatics when I am simply sitting down with your mother.”

“You do not understand. She is difficult—”

She raised a hand to silence her. “All noblewomen are. I fear it comes with the title.” Cecilia stretched, noticing with a grin the way her body ached from the night prior. “Besides, I am more than qualified to deal with people like your mother. Some may say it is a gift.” She leaned in closer to Ava, letting her charm settle into every fiber of the woman.

Raising a blonde brow accusingly, she snapped, “A fantastic talent that includes running away?”

Cecilia yanked away from her as if she had been burned. Her whole demeanor changed in an instant and regret flew onto Ava’s face.

“Cecilia, I did not mean—” she reached out to pull the girl back, but Cecilia had already turned away from her, determined to hide how much her words pierced her.

She never had a thick skin when it came to personal jabs. Her mother always blamed it on her tender heart whilst proclaiming that it was going to be her undoing. As much as she tried, she struggled to hide the way she felt about anything really. No matter how hard her tutors tried, they could never seem to beat that flaw out of her.

Her tongue was too honest.  A smack to the back of the head.

Her eyes revealed too much.  A stinging whack from a switch on her palms.

Her face crumpled into one of hurt after a few sharp words.  A hearty pinch on her arm that left a bruise.

So instead, she tried to mask it until she was alone.

Though, she was weak as she bit her lip to hide its trembling.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her back facing Ava, her vision swimming as she stared at the stone making up the wall. “Is it so cowardly to fear death?” She finally asked in a harsh whisper. “For I could not stand before Death and look him in the eye. I should not fear to meet my maker.” Her head hung lowly in defeat, tears running down her cheeks graciously.

Strong hands held her waist as Cecilia was pulled back against Ava’s chest. “You are not a coward, mea vita. I spoke without thinking, I beg you to forgive my carelessness. I do not think you are cowardly, in fact, you are the opposite in every way.”

“I trip over my own heart because I feel too much.” Cecilia rose, shrugging off her touch. “At least that is what my mother would tell me when she was feeling particularly nice.” An unusual bitterness colored the words.

Ava remained silent and she could feel where her eyes were burning a hole in her back.

She took the quiet moment to collect herself, squaring her shoulders, and straightening her spine as she took a deep, shaky breath. “I will meet with Lady Nestoria by myself, end of discussion.” Cecilia wrapped a dressing robe around herself to combat the chill of the air.

“I understand.”

Cecilia quickly glanced over her shoulder at a mournful looking Ava before turning her attention back to selecting a dress. The family had been kind enough to have a few dresses made for her, ones that fit her better than that of those meant for adolescents.

She selected a green one, whose rich velvet reminded her of the color of her lover’s eyes. Even if she was cross with her at that moment, she couldn’t resist the garment that had quickly become her favorite.

She dressed quickly, her hands clumsily doing the ties to make herself presentable.

“I should be going now.” Cecilia’s fingers were busy weaving the length of her dark hair into a loose braid. “I will see you at dinner.”

Ava only nodded, her gaze hardening as Cecilia left her alone in the room.

***

Sitting amongst the riches of the lady of the house’s parlor made her feel like one of the statuettes on display. Only there to be viewed, critiqued, judged. At least, that’s how it felt under the silver gaze of Lady Nestoria du Mortain.

Her features were sharp and pointed, much like Ava’s.

A strong nose and jaw. Grey eyes that seemed to blend in with the whites of her eyes as when a ray of rogue sunlight hit them exactly right. And straight, blonde hair pulled back into a polished updo that must’ve taken her servants all morning, weaving the honeyed braids to allow the crimson headdress to sit securely on the back of her head.

If Cecilia hadn’t known better, she would have gambled on this woman before her being royalty—a queen or its likeness.

“Lady Cecilia,” Nestoria had greeted her coolly upon her entry, “I appreciate you joining me, dear.”

The accent that left her lips was jarring at first listen. It was French. Extremely so, unlike the thickness of the English ones spoken by herself and Ava.

She had squared her shoulders and presented a dazzling smile.

Her mother would’ve been proud. Especially if she could have known fear’s frigid fingers wrapping around her throat as she was met by such eloquence.

“I assure you, my Lady, the pleasure is mine to behold.” Cecilia dropped into a polite curtsy, not failing to notice the pleased look in Nestoria’s eyes.

She rose before taking a seat on the bench she was directed to, hands folding in her lap. “My deepest apologies if I have kept you waiting. I am afraid I had gone down an incorrect corridor and found myself lost. I can only imagine how pitiful of a sight it must have been.” She shook her head, slightly embarrassed at the sudden divulge of information.

“Oh, my dear, there are some days where I still feel like I am wandering around in circles and I have lived here for what feels like an eternity now.”

They shared a light laugh at that. Some tension in Cecilia’s shoulders began to ease, though her nails still dug into the flesh of her palms, leaving indentations of crescent moons behind.

“I am truly mournful however,” Lady Nestoria began once more, her gaze appearing to soften, “that I have not been able to sit down with you individually at an earlier occurrence. I do hope you forgive me for my inhospitality.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened. “My Lady, I am simply thankful for you and my Lord allowing me to stay in your home. I would have felt blessed if you offered me a stable with the horses.”

She seemed to bristle at the very idea. “Heavens! You are far too pretty to be kept in the stables with those beasts! Which is why I do not know why you favor the company of my eldest daughter so often.”

Ah, there was the reason for this meeting.

“My Lady, I happen to revel in the company of your daughter. Ser Ava—”

“She is a  Lady, not a Ser. And I shall expect you to address her as such!”

The sudden fire in her tone made Cecilia begin to curl in on herself to escape the blazing heat of her building fury.

“Of course.” Cecilia’s eyes dropped, not wanting to hold her gaze. “I beg for your forgiveness and assure you that it will not happen again.”

Lady Nestoria took a deep breath, eyes closing as she regained her composure. “Forgive me, Ava’s title is quite a sensitive subject, but it is no fault of yours. It is my brute of a child who is to blame,” she said with a huff.

Cecilia’s stomach churned and she managed a weak nod.

“She is quite fond of you, is she not?” A pale brow arched. She couldn’t figure out if it was a genuine question or if it was meant to be accusatory.

When there was no immediate reply, Nestoria continued. “My youngest, Mazelina, talks nonstop about wanting to steal you away from her sister. That child’s curiosity will get her into trouble one day,” she hummed, thinking aloud.

“I am afraid I have not had the pleasure of meeting your entire family, my Lady. It is—” her unfinished sentence hung on the tip of her tongue, unsure if she should continue. An expectant look from the lady sitting across from her was prompting her to continue. “Truthfully, it is strange. I mean no offense. My father was insistent we all gather for supper. Although my family was much smaller which made it easier, I suppose.”

“My dear girl, you never did say which house you belong to,” she observed.

Cecilia shifted uncomfortably. “House Beck, ma’am.”

Silver eyes narrowed. “I cannot say I have heard the name.”

Relief washed over her as she realized the news of a runaway daughter was not enough for the higher-ranking houses to gossip about.

“It is a minor family. I would have been surprised if you had.” That sweet tone and a polite smile lit up her demeanor once more.

Nestoria gave a long sigh, leaning back against her seat. “How I wish my daughter was more like you, an image of a youthful and well-mannered Lady. I fear there is no hope for Ava, for He seemed to have given me a son instead.” She shook her head, looking mournful. “Perhaps, my other daughters could look to you as a model of what they should strive to become.”

Cecilia was growing uncomfortable with the way the conversation was headed. But there was no room to interject for Nestoria continued.

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, eyes sparkling with an idea. “I shall have you marry one of my sons. Then you shall be my daughter in name! Oh, what a glorious thought that is.” A hint of wistfulness lingered around her.

A streak of chills ran up Cecilia’s spine at the mention of marriage. She stilled herself from physically revolting at the comment.

Miraculously, her voice didn’t shake as she spoke. “With all due respect, my Lady. I do not think that would be wise.”

“Oh?”

“I do not wish to be ensnared in a loveless marriage. I have witnessed the consequences too many times. And I refuse to be used as a ploy for politics.” The words came out harsher than she had intended.

Nestoria seemed rocked by the boldness arming each syllable.

“Every beauty has its imperfection. And yours, Lady Cecilia, is your heart and naivety.” Their eyes never wandered from each other, no matter how intense it grew. Cecilia would not squirm under the challenge.

“You are mistaken, my Lady.” Cecilia’s lip curled venomously as she stood. “My heart is my greatest strength. It is what has kept me going for this long because, my Lady, I bow to no one but my own will.”

Her eyes practically bulged from her head.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I do not want to keep Ser Ava waiting.”

Cecilia gave an exaggerated curtsy before spinning on her heel, a small smirk tainted her lips as the doors slammed behind her.

***

By the time she had found her knight, Cecilia swore the stone beneath her feet was warped from the way she paced. The metal of her boots was scraping across the ground, but she paid little mind to it. Ava’s attention was concentrated elsewhere which meant she hadn’t heard Cecilia’s approach.

The words from this morning appeared in the forefront of her mind. Cecilia hesitated, hovering in the archway.

Sensing eyes on her, Ava’s head whipped towards her.

“Cecilia,” she breathed, the muscles in her neck tensing.

Cecilia raised a brow questioningly. Her feet refused to carry her forward and her lips were defiant as no words poured from them.

“I was…” Ava trailed off, her gaze falling to her hands. Following, she saw the bouquet in the suffocating grasp of the knight’s iron gauntlet. A drawn-out sigh filled the space between them, squeezing her eyes shut. “I am sorry, Cecilia. I did not mean what I said earlier. It was inappropriate whether I believed it or not, and I should have offered you a source of comfort instead of worsening the problem.”

Cecilia’s lips parted as the woman slowly approached her.

She still could not look her in the eye. “It has been on my mind this morning. I did not know how to make it up to you, for words alone are not enough to mend the hurt in your eyes, so I figured I would start by gathering things you enjoy.” Ava pursed her lips, nervously holding out a small bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, Ava,” she murmured, taking them from her gently. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she admired the reds, pinks, and whites contrasted against the vibrant green of their stems and leaves. “It is beautiful.”

Ava's hand reached out, brushing over her cheek. The metal of her gloves was cool against the heat blossoming in her cheeks. “I am incredibly sorry for the way I acted. I will do better by you.”

Leaning into the touch, she tore her gaze away from the flowers to meet the sight of her emerald oasis peering down hopefully at her. “I know, my darling.”

Ava pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and Cecilia’s eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as they basked in the quietness of the garden’s entryway.

“I was hoping I could steal you away to go riding today.” Ava murmured, thumb caressing her face. “I am feeling quite selfish and want you for myself before another one of my lovely family members can take you away.”

An image of Nestoria du Mortain’s angered glare echoed in her brain. The last thing she wanted to do was have to face another one of her kin.

“I would like that, yes.”

With a gentle smile, Cecilia was offered an iron-clad arm, to which she immediately accepted. She nestled further into Ava’s side, trying to decide whether or not she was frustrated with the suit of armor or more enamored with how she looked in it.

“One horse or two?” Cecilia teased.

Ava almost looked offended at the question, making Cecilia giggle.

The stables were located on the far end of the gardens. Tucked just out of sight behind the walls of shrubbery and foliage so one could gaze out of the window and not have to experience the so-called blemish representing work of common folk.

The dirt floors, damp from the previous night’s rain, muddied her slippers and discarded straw stuck to her feet–but she did not mind. It was the fact that she was here with Ava and the lingering fact that they would be uninterrupted within the cover of the forests.

“Ser Knight, my Lady,” one of the stable hands greeted them casually. They tended to frequent the stables to steal some time to themselves.

Ava nodded in a reply and Cecilia smiled warmly. “Good morning, Manning,” she said sweetly.

His cheeks flushed a rosy pink beneath the smudges of dust.

Ava squeezed her arm tighter and Cecilia suppressed an amused eye roll at the unnecessary envy. It was no use either to tease her about it later on since she would simply wave it off and blame it on the protectiveness of her nature.

“Mister Manning,” she said tightly, removing the bouquet from Cecilia’s gasp to hold them out. “Will you make sure these are sent to my chambers unharmed?”

"Philomena–”

Her nostrils flared as she began to become frustrated. Now Cecilia did roll her eyes at her attitude.

“Son, I assure you I can prepare my own horse. I am not a prissy noblewoman like those other women you attend to,” she snapped.

Cecilia furrowed her brows. She couldn’t dress a horse. When she had rode back home, a sympathetic servant had saddled Lady for her.

Ava met her gaze. “I do not mean you, of course,” she followed up quickly in a panic.

“Mhm.”

The knight growled, turning her attention back to the boy. “Just do as I ask.”

“Yes, ser,” he mumbled and clumsily ran towards the house. A few petals fell to the ground as he went.

Cecilia pulled herself from Ava’s hold to allow her to handle her steed. “You need to work on your manners,” she teased.

The joke either passed right over her head or she was trying to give it right back to her. “Careful, love, or else you may begin to sound like my mother.”

She sighed, turning to admire one of the other horses poking her head out of the stall.

Her nose was soft against her fingertips. Hot breath fanned over her skin as the mare huffed appreciative at the affection. Sable colored fur was broken up by patches of white across her back and forehead.

“A beautiful animal,” she cooed.

The horse whinnied as if agreeing with her.

“Her name is Daphne.”

She turned to look at Ava quizzically.

A short chuckled ensued. “My brother, Oudin, named her after the Greek myth.”

“Oh,” she said shortly, looking back at the mare. “Well, that is a morbid tale.”

“I agree.” Heavy hands held her waist from behind, pressing Cecilia’s back into her gaudy breastplate. “I do not understand men who favor feminine tragedy.” The words lingered in the air as they both stared at Daphne for another few seconds.

Philomena snorted from behind them, growing impatient as he stomped at the ground.

“How incredibly dramatic,” Ava grumbled, stepping away from her lover to finish saddling the horse.

“I suppose he truly does suit you then.” She smirked as she reached out to pet the black stallion. It was a truth and the silence of his owner proved it.

“Do you need assistance, my lady?” Ava changed the subject away from herself as quickly as she could manage.

Cecilia smiled, allowing Ava to hoist her up onto Philomena’s back. Once she was settled, Ava swung up behind her.

Taking advantage of the closeness in proximity and the way they were sitting, Cecilia nestled into Ava’s arms as they reached around her to take hold of the reins.

“Ready?” Ava asked in a murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss to the back of her head.

“Always.”

The afternoon sun warmed the bits of skin exposed from the neckline of her dress. The days were growing warmer as the summer months grew close. It was a time Cecilia always looked forward to.

The sweet air of the forest was filled with the sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds, accompanied by Cecilia’s soft chatter as she swayed with Philomena’s movements.

Ava listened diligently, wrapped up in every word that fell from the Lady’s lips.

They had spent many afternoons like this, hiding amongst the cover of the woods, Cecilia talking about nothing and everything at the same time. There was a certain spot they travelled to on outings such as this one. A break in the trees just up the path, foliage crowning the banks of a small tarn.

When they arrived, Ava broke away to make sure the stallion was settled, allowing Cecilia a few solitary moments to get away with any sort of mischief she could get into. Usually, this included kicking off her slippers to begin wading into the shallow waters, her feet sinking into the muddy sediment.

Ava clucked her tongue from behind her. “You are going to soil the bottom of your dress, my lady.” Cecilia turned her head to give her a sly smile. “Then I will have to listen to you complain the rest of the way home.”

She rolled her eyes at this, carefully beginning the trek back to solid land and falling into the open arms of her knight.

Hand-in-hand, they began to stroll around the edge of the water, only stopping when Cecilia bent down to pluck a wildflower to tuck it into the folds of her lover’s braid.

“Why did my mother ask to see you today?” Ava finally asked, her face revealing that the subject had been on her mind for quite some time.

She frowned a bit, plucking at the stem of a sweet violet. “For a simple chat.”

The blonde couldn’t contain her hearty scoff. “My mother does not  chat  as you say.”

“Perhaps she just wanted to get to know the stranger wandering the corridors of her home,” she deflected, tossing aside the tattered flower.

“Lady du Mortain only takes interest in things that she can use to her advantage, little bird. Surely, you are not too naïve to see this fact?” The metal tips of her glove brushed a stray hair from Cecilia’s cheek.

Cecilia looked away from her. No answer followed as she replayed the meeting in her mind. Of course, she knew this. Lady Nestoria had made her intentions clear towards the end of their conversation.

“What is it?” Ava pressed, uncomfortable at the silence.

“Forgive my boldness, but you and your mother do not get along, do you?”

Ava chuckled, casting her gaze over the water. “I cannot imagine what gave you that impression. We both are filled with such warmth when the topic comes up.”

When Cecilia did not speak, she continued.

“I am the eldest of seven children. A daughter being their first-born was not ideal for my parents as you can imagine. For we women are weak in both mind and body. At least, that is how the world views us. Take care to notice that I am the antonym of a proper lady, little bird.” Pride swelled her tone as she spoke. Cecilia swore she even flexed absent-mindedly, although it was hard to tell with the bulkiness of her armor. “My parents struggled to have children for many years after my birth, so my father began to raise me as if I were his son. The moment I could take steps on my own, he had a sword in my hand. He taught me everything I know and shaped me to be the warrior I am today. Consequently, this caused a strain with my mother who wanted nothing more than for me to learn how to be prim and proper for a future husband.

“When they had the twins, my brother Oudin and sister Grecia, Mother tried to force me to begin my teachings of how to be a proper lady. Even at the age of five, I would have nothing of it. I favored being out with Papa’s men to watch them train. There was nothing I wanted more than to be a knight, it was what my father had instilled in me, after all.

“I grew older and my parents had more children. Thomas, Dain, Iseult, and finally Mazelina. My mother finally had more daughters to dote on and it seemed like she was going to leave me be. Until the prospect of marriage arose. The moment she brought up the offer of a marriage of some elderly lord from God knows where, I fled to Papa and begged until he swore my future would lead to a path of knighthood. I squired later than most children, but I had been molded by the best.” Green eyes were glazed over as Ava’s mind was in a different place, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She looked so happy at the memories surfacing that it made Cecilia’s heart clench. “I will forever be grateful for my father’s mercy. Otherwise, I would be married off to a lord and a mother by now.” The thought seemed to make her ill.

Cecilia slipped her hands into Ava’s, tugging her towards her. “I am eternally indebted to your father as well, my dear knight.”

She bent down, pressing their foreheads together, the tips of their noses brushing. “Even in another life, I would find my way to you.” Ava murmured, moving to grasp her hips, fingers knotting in the fabric.

“Promise me,” she breathed against her lips. “Swear you will always find your way back to me.”

“I swear on my honor, I would fight through the depths of Hell to reach you, little bird. My place is by your side for my life is entirely yours.”

The way Ava believed every word she uttered made Cecilia’s knees weak.

She closed the gap between them, claiming the kiss that had been hanging before her. Cecilia kissed her with such ferocity, she was sure Ava was going to steal every last breath in her lungs. But if she wished, she could steal it all.

Ava could have every last bit of her if she so chose.

Cecilia was hers.

Her heart.

Her body.

Her soul.

It was all hers.

[fluent-in-lesbianism]

I really appreciate that you've talked more than once about growing up with a stutter. If you feel comfortable, would you share anything you wish people would know when they talk to people who stutter? I mean, the obvious "don't be a dick" and "let the other person finish their sentence" seem to apply (I hope!!), but is there anything else people should know or do which maybe they don't? Thanks and hope you and your mom are doing well ❤️️

I’m happy to share, but your “don’t be a dick” is the best tl;dr

So obviously, everyone with a stutter is different and has their own process and their own rules to follow when speaking with them. These are just a few of mine:

1) You can finish my word/sentence only if I give you permission. I won’t though, bc I hate it when people do that. Even friends and family. I know people do it bc they think they’re helping me, but I just interpret it as a sign of impatience. The only time I allow it is if I’m really tired and I don’t have the mental energy to maintain fluency anymore. In that case, I’ll usually just wave my hand at you mid-word/sentence and let you say whatever you want (even if it wasn’t what I meant at all).

2) Piggybacking off that: Stutters are physically and mentally draining. I can’t even fully explain everything it takes for me to talk to somebody, especially for long periods of time. By the time I’m done, I’m exhausted bc I literally spend the whole time planning out everything I’m gonna say in my head and how I’m gonna say it. Fluent people just expect a certain pacing to their conversations that I can’t maintain as easily as they can and tryna keep up with that pace is tiresome. So if you see me getting tired or taking longer to respond to you, it’s not you. My brain is just overwhelmed.

3) With that being said, I don’t care if it takes me 5 whole minutes to say one word, DO NOT:

  A) tap your foot   B) look at your watch/at a clock   C) sigh really loud   D) make that pinched :\ face   E) interrupt me   F) look away, like you’d rather be anywhere else   G) finish my word/sentence (without my permission)   H) or any combination of those

People think they’re being subtle, but I know the exact second someone’s losing interest in what I’m saying, and nothing shuts me down quicker than seeing someone mentally checking out of the conversation just bc I’m struggling to maintain fluency.

4) I use a lot of “filler words” (um, uh, hm, ah, like, etc.) because they get me out of stutters quickly. I know how I sound, but if you want fluency, then you’re gonna have to suck it up and listen to me say “uh” for the thousandth time.

5) Idk if I should be revealing this bc I’m kinda afraid to get called out on it if I use this method with y’all lmao, but I pretend I don’t know a word/phrase just so I can get out of saying it. All the time.

Like, if I already know I can’t say something without stuttering and I don’t have a replacement word/phrase for it, then I’ll just be like, “uh, you know that, uh. what’s it called? sweeper thingy you get dirt up with?” “broom?” “yes! that. you got one? I spilled my will to live…”

6) I also repeat words and claim it’s “for emphasis”, but really it’s just bc I’m about to stutter on the word after it and saying the previous word again usually gets me out of a stutter (“that’s really, really strong tea”). It’s not. I just struggle with st- words and words ending in -ly are easy transition sounds for me.

7) FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HERSELF, STOP 👏INVITING 👏ME 👏TO PLAY 👏TIMED 👏GAMES 👏If a game involves me having to verbalize a thought before a timer goes off to win, I will throw fucking hands! And, yes. I’m looking at you Pictionary, you piece oF SHIT (ง'̀-‘́)ง

8) I have a very strained relationship with fast food drive-thrus. Have I had a breakdown in a Full Moon drive-thru bc I couldn’t order my food clearly enough which led the employee to get pissed and ask why I was “wasting her time”? Maybe... That’s why I always walk in to order unless I already know exactly what I’m ordering. I also have to order it in the same exact way or I’ll stutter and the employee won’t understand me.

9) Speaking of strained relationships, phones. Fuck those, too! If I hear one more person say “You’re breaking up” while I’m tryna talk to them, I’m gonna scream. People hang up on me all the time bc they think the connection’s bad or the phone cut out. Even after I explain that I just have a stutter, they usually have no idea what that means. The more extreme people think I’m playing a joke on them so they get angry and start yelling or cussing at me before eventually hanging up. So using a phone is extremely difficult and has led to many an anxiety attack. I avoid them altogether unless I’m talking to someone who already knows to expect long pauses and skips.

10) And I know I’ve said this before over the years, but I’m gon’ say it again: I want more positive stutter representation in media.

I’m talking (lmao *finger guns*) verbal representation of a heavy stutter. Not a stutter on a word or two periodically with no obvious tics or one sentence in a flashback to explain why she doesn’t speak anymore (looking at you, OitNB). The split second rep stuff is okay, but let’s be honest, the vast majority of fluent people need to be exposed to heavier stutters. They need to see what a heavy stutter looks like, physical tics included. Otherwise, they’re not gonna know shit when they meet someone with a heavy stutter bc they’ve never been exposed to it. And it ain’t even their fault, but people like me suffer for it. If there were more true-to-life depictions of people with stutters on mainstream media, then it would go a long way in de-stigmatizing us and teaching people how to properly interact with us.

And maybe just because I want to see that aspect of myself on screen. I mean, I got wlws coming out my woolawoo atm, but ain’t none of them sound like me. And I’m tired of it. Damn it.

[moon--vixen]

Today, June 28th 2019 around noon, my baby boy Kit passed away in my arms. He was 17 human years old, 95 cat years old. He outlived his kidneys, but he hung on for two days, so we could prepare and give him the end he deserved.

Today, I’d like to share the life of the little angel that changed mine forever.

Some time in October 2002, when I was 9 years old, my Mother and I walked into a pet store we’d never been to before, and right at the front doors was a large cage holding one mother cat and a full litter of kittens, all around 5 months old.

The one little black kitten caught my eye, and in that instant I knew. I knew he was meant to be mine. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I begged my Mother to let me hold him, and she eventually agreed. The store clerk opened the door and let me pick him up, and he instantly melted in my arms, and completely stole my heart. He was completely and utterly relaxed, and even though I was a complete stranger, he was completely at peace letting me cradle him in my arms like a baby, looking up at me with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.

I knew in that moment that I couldn’t leave the store without him. I just couldn’t. I begged my Mother to let me have him, but she worried about the logistics of introducing two cats in a very cramped two bedroom apartment that already had 3 people and a 2 year old cat that was notorious for not liking other animals.

She eventually forced me to leave him behind for the night, assured by the store clerks that he would still be there tomorrow. I spent the rest of the day making my case. He’s a black cat, we love black cats. His (temporary) name is Uncle Fester, Wednesday and Morticia Addams were my role models and the Addams Family movies were our favorites to watch around Halloween, alongside Hocus Pocus. And once I pointed out to her how he let me hold him, how relaxed he was, she too was convinced, and it was time to tackle convincing Dad.

But that too didn’t take long. He captured all our hearts, and the next day I walked out of the store with my sweet boy, whom we renamed Kit, after the witches’ familiar from the TV show Charmed. A name I very quickly came to love and took as my own nickname, leading to many funny looks when I would talk about him.

One of the first things we did upon getting him home was give him a bath. The cage he had been in was small, but tall, but it seemed only the mother cat ever left the bottom half. Holding a litter of at least 8 kittens, there was only one small litter box and one food and water bowl. My sweet baby had poop dried on the end of his tail and old food all over his feet.

He didn’t mind the bath. He was so curious about the water, and even played with it, splashing around in it and exploring.

Our other cat, Tiggeriss, knew something was up, and she clawed and hissed at the door. It seemed Mother’s worries were well founded. We couldn’t keep them apart. He was curious about her, and she, the Queen Bee of the house, demanded loudly to be made aware of who had entered her kingdom.

We couldn’t get in or out without them trying to dart in or out. Eventually, we put him back in the carrier and brought it into the tiny living room. Tiggeriss was on it in a second, sniffing wildly. I opened the carrier and he walked straight out, innocent little boy that he was. but in that moment, magic happened.

She hissed at him, and in an instant he plopped over onto his side and exposed his belly to her, submitting to her completely. She sniffed him for a bit, and began giving him a bath.

20 minutes later, they were curled up together taking a nap, like they’d known each other their whole lives. Inseparable, as they’d be for the next 17 years.

He fit into our family perfectly, though it still took some adjusting. We had a black mat at the front door, and often on our way out we’d see nothing but two little green eyes looking back at us, the void swallowing the rest of him whole.

Tiggeriss was still always the Queen Bee, but she clearly considered him her son and treated him as such. When they’d eat, she’d let him have any extra of hers he wanted. When we tried playing with her, all strategic and allowing her to track and hunt the toy, he’d come plowing in like the silly little kitten he was and go nuts.

But it also went the other way. Tig hates car rides, panicking every time we have to take her somewhere. She’d scream and yowl and pace around the car staring out every winder desperate for an escape. But Kit? He was as calm as he ever was. On trips where we’d have to hit the highway he’d get a little car sick at first, but otherwise he stayed calm, and that in turn kept her calm.

We moved into a nice house, and bought them a brand new large scratching post, one twice as tall as I was, and almost still is. They loved it, of course. and it still sits beside me as I write this now, showing all the love it’s gotten for the last 17 years.

He was the snuggliest, most affectionate baby. His relaxed and trusting nature never wavered, even around rowdy children. My friends dubbed him “Mush”, for how he would just melt in your arms without a care in the world, and “Mr. Underfoot” for how he’d always follow you around, and constantly be “underfoot” and in the way, just to be around you more.

And he was always, so, so curious. Always wanting to discover new things, new smells, new experiences. Seemingly he’d forget about his exciting adventures the year before, so every winter he’d discover snow all over again.

He became our wonderful Halloween cat, always enjoying being outside and seeing all the kids coming around with us. Sometimes it’d get to be a bit overwhelming, but he’d still enjoy sitting inside the glass door and watching. He was the best living Halloween decoration we ever had.

My Father, who always claimed to dislike cats and felt dogs were so much better, warmed up to him very quickly, deciding Kit was his cat. We would playfully argue about it often, fighting over who got to lay claim to the cat he didn’t want in the first place.

His days were spent ether on Dad’s bed, my bed, or at the foot of my recliner, snuggling with my feet or in my lap, when he wasn’t playing with one of us or Tig.

He was the most loving cat you’d ever meet. I was always horribly bullied in school. I always assumed that if my classmates themselves didn’t kill me, the stress would. I never bothered to think about my future because I assumed I’d never have one. I had resigned myself to a short life, but then I’d come home to his squeaky little meow, the meow that never deepened no matter how old he got because he was neutered a little too early. And I knew I’d be ok. I had to be. I couldn’t leave him behind. He needed me and loved me and I refused to die on him or Tiggeriss, no matter how bad things got.

Because I knew, as soon as I looked into his eyes, those eyes that loved me unconditionally, who didn’t care about me being gay, or my terrible pimples, who didn’t think I was stupid and ugly and worthless, and I knew that was all that mattered. HE was all that mattered.

Those big, beautiful green eyes, gems adorning the velveteen little rumbling furnace that was our beloved never ending ball of fluff.

In fact, we even got a very nice, fancy comb we were warned was so good it was known to cause a balled spot if we combed him in the same spot too much.

We tried once, just to see if we could. We never made a single dent in his fur, no matter how hard we tried.

And his fur was the softest thing I’ve ever felt. It was like owning a large chinchilla, lost in the void of a starless night. Soft, and shiny, with a rumbling motor boat underneath that you could hear from the other side of the room, especially when he got chin scritches, his favorite place for affection.

Once he hit late adulthood, he developed arthritis. It became hard for him to walk and climb, which meant he spent more time snuggling with one of us than he did playing and exploring anymore, but he seemed to get just as much comfort out of it as we did. He always knew when one of us needed a snuggle, like when I got home after having my wisdom teeth removed. I crashed in my chair instantly, but according to Mom, he climbed right up with me and curled up under my arm and napped with me all day.

No matter how much changed as he aged, how active he was, how well he could walk, how aware he was of himself and his surroundings, some things never changed.

He still loved making things difficult because he just wanted to be close to you,

He still loved lying in the sun and munching on the grass just outside our home,

He and Tig would still climb all over me when morning rolled around and they were hungry,

He still loved his favorite spot next to me on my bed,

And snuggling with his loved ones. Even on his last days.

He knew the end was near. When we took him to the emergency vet, she said she was shocked he was still alive, as he was in such bad shape he could go at any moment. He could have just as easily died the night before, but he hung on. He hung on one more night for us. So we could prepare, so I could have one more night with him in my arms. Just one more night.

And there is nothing in the world I am more thankful for than him, and the love he showed me for the last 17 years.

Rest in peace my angel.

You will forever be loved, and never, ever forgotten.

[hellreads]

Any good yandere stalker recommendations? Doesn’t matter the member really.

an ask that will expose my yandere/stalker (insert killer too because some yanderes are just willing to go the extra mile) BTS loving ass let’s do this! and btw this list is in no particular order, I just went to my ficshelf and pulled all the good stuff I read (though I admit I have favorites *zips her mouth*) and I hope you’ll love them too, ooooh and another thing we all know that;

A yandere is a character, who becomes violently possessive of a love interest.

so please consider all warnings in every story listed here before you read, AGAIN PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read every single warning/triggers, that’s all I ask of you.

or alternatively: this is me posting all the fics I read in one go! hsajdfghjdsfga enjoy this my fellow yandere loving readers! | 🍒

❥ Let the Villain Win by @lemonjoonah➴ Author!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ Kim Namjoon, famous author and your childhood friend has been keeping a secret from you. His new book treads on such dark themes that he’s finding it difficult to write. Excited by the prospect of a sinister plot you offer him a piece of advice, “Let the villain win…” 

❥ Scopophilic Affection by @bibbykins➴ Rich Kid/Yandere!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot➴ Scopophilia is a more dignified way to define voyeurism, something Seokjin had no intention of partaking in until he came across your live stream. Seokjin is a dignified man, but never in his life had he felt so depraved watching you smile and work like it was his profession, unable to reach through the screen and make you his. Unable to tell you how much he loves to watch you because you have no idea you’re live stream even exists. He can’t tell you how hypnotizing you are without the glaring controversy of him watching your hacked-into webcam, both as a human and director in the computer science division of the company he is a board member of. Nevertheless, you were his very guilty utmost pleasure.

❥ Dual Fixation by peachedsoda➴ Yandere!AU | Yoongi x Named OC x Taehyung | Series ➴ DICHOTOMOUS : Not being loved by the one you love is like torture. But in a way, being loved by someone you don’t want to be with, and being forced to love that person back, could be bigger torture. How much of it can be called love? How much of it becomes an obsession? Kim Taehyung—the one consumed by passion for the unexpected love he feels for a certain girl.Min Yoongi—the one clinging to the only girl able to accept his dichotomous personality. And Lee Eunhye—the girl trapped in the minds of both men.➴ INFATUATION : The threat of Kim Taehyung hangs heavy in the air, bringing with it the ever-present paranoia that has thus become a constant in Yoongi’s life. Determined to protect the brittle relationship he has built with Eunhye, and fearful of what Taehyung might do, Yoongi finds himself focused solely on finding ways to rid them of unwanted interferences. Desperation drives Yoongi to make questionable decisions in the name of protecting Eunhye, fully unaware of the amount of danger he’d be putting her in. Yoongi is willing to go to hopeless lengths to keep her by his side, failing to realize it was not Taehyung who would drive her away, but his own actions and resolves. Peace and a respite from danger seem to be an impossibility, especially with Yoongi’s intended involvement with Taehyung’s notorious family who happens to be one of the most fearsome gangs in the south side.

❥ The Uncanny by sinsirella➴ Arranged Marriage!AU | Jimin x Reader x Jungkook x Jin | Series➴ “The uncanny is the psychological experience of something as strangely familiar, rather than simply mysterious.” An everyday object or occurrence can be experienced as something unsettling and alienated. This is accompanied by a discomforting effect and—most of the time—leads to an outright rejection of said subject. Or Someone.

(Y/N) is a young girl whose life turns upside down. One day her mother surprises her with news of her arranged husband, forcing her into her new chaotic lifestyle. Join her journey and experience her new life through her eyes. Will she get along with her husband? Or someone else? What are they hiding?

❥ Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ Neighbors!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason. 

❥ Mythomania by @chimchimsauce ➴ Idol!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ She’s the love of his life, the object of his affection. Too bad she doesn’t know it yet. 

❥ Beastly Gods by @lemonjoonah ➴ Hybrid!AU | Taehyung x Reader | One-Shot➴ ‘Don’t leave the forest,’ a rule that you’ve been forced to follow since birth, but you are tired of living in this wooden cage. Out of desperation, you cut a deal with Taehyung, who claims to be the only one who can get you out safely, even though he might be just as dangerous as the god you’re trying to escape. 

❥ KTH Reaction from @yandere-society ➴ Yandere!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Reaction➴ Taehyung finds out you’re pregnant.  ➴ NOTE: Hands down sent shivers down my spine, felt like someone was breathing down my neck the whole time I was reading this reaction T_T

❥ You Were Mine by joonscandy (ao3) / @jiminatrix➴ Stalker!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jin x Hoseok | Series➴ “I have to go, Kook,” you tell him but he still doesn’t let go, “I have work and Your brother will be back any minu—“ “I don’t care!” Jungkook growls, “You broke up with him… What does it matter?”***You’ve avoided Jin because you were over your messy breakup. Enters Jungkook, someone you’d grown to love and care for. But, with the shift in feelings– you make it a point to avoid everyone associated with the two brothers. Well, at least, tried to but with how Jungkook felt about you that was a little easier said than done. Jungkook had always had a soft spot for you, everyone knew it. Jin knew it and he hated it but, what happens when that soft spot turns into something else?-or-Jungkook has been in love with you since the first day Jin introduced the two of you so much in love that it becomes an obsession.

❥ Lust by @umitae ➴ Stalker!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Everybody has a lust for something. but his lust was beyond the ordinary one. his lust for you was out of this world. he only wanted you and in order to make you his, everything had to go his way. 

❥ Pen Pal by @chinkbihh ➴ Prison!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ As a lonely person, the idea of talking to someone removed from society was actually quite appealing to you. In an act of charity and loneliness, you sign up for a Pen Pal program and get paired up with an inmate named Jungkook. Your letters were meant to help him cope with prison life, but little did anyone know they were actually driving him more mad.

❥ Toxic by shanubi➴ Stalker!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ His mind is twisted and his love for you is toxic. 

❥ Only You by @sweetbunnykook ➴ Stalker!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jin x Namjoon | Series➴ Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much. 

❥ Making of a Lover by @smileyoongle ➴ Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jimin | One-Shot / Drabble➴ //

❥ Fatal Attraction by @jungcock ➴ Serial Killer!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung | Series➴ Your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one.

❥ VITA by saylilirose➴ Psych!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Being the top psychiatrist at National Mental Institution of Esor, you’re assigned with the newly transferred patients from another institution.They’re patients that have been unable to be helped. So far.Your friend Daniel is also assigned his own patients but he worries for your safety now.You both hope to let these patients, live as best as they can as they suffer through these silent diseases.

❥ Extreme Obsession by saylilirose➴ Yandere!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ In life, you meet one person that you live and grow old with. You? You meet seven. But your love? Non-existent. But theirs? Real…and obsessive.Which turns deadly and dangerous. Without hesitation.

❥ Recrudescence by @chimchimsauce➴ Yandere!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ It’s nearly easy as breathing (for six of them, at least) for BTS to pretend to be just like everyone else - humans with big dreams and aspirations. But one person brings the façade crashing to the ground and for some reason, they just can’t let her go.

❥ and I’m recommending all the good yandere stuff from @yandere-society 🖤🖤🖤

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 60: For the Lazy Mornings

Chapters: 60/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings:  Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel),  Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Bad Dreams, Loki has Unresolved Issues, Reader Contemplates, Walk Walk Fashion Baby, Lol Yes I Did Write A Whole Chapter That Takes Place Within Like Thirty Minutes

Summary:  You miss breakfast.

Loki awoke to darkness; velvety, silent, and comfortable. A slight chill had crept into the room, the sensation familiar on his skin. The sun must be setting fully again, finally. The seasons on this world were so strange, foreign.

You shifted next to him. The chill might be soothing to him, but your fragile, precious human body might not take to it well. He should probably get an extra blanket for you.

Of course, there were other ways to keep you warm. Lust stirred in him, recalling your clumsy, insistent hands and hungry, determined expression. It wasn't the first handjob of his life, but it was certainly the most earnest.

For some reason, you hadn't wanted him to return the favor at the time. But now...

He placed his hand on your thigh. You rolled over to face him, bigger than you should be, twice, three times bigger than you should be. The bright, rainbow-scattered light of the old Bifrost Loki remembered lit up the room, highlighting your sapphire skin, your bright red eyes looking down at him fondly. Loki shouted, recoiling in revulsion, but the roar of the Bifrost drowned him out, the light overcoming him.

Loki sat up in bed.

It was dark, but to his eyes, faint light escaped from the edges of his blackout curtains. You stirred, and his head whipped around to stare. You were your normal, adorably compact size, and thankfully devoid of blue. He let out a relieved breath.

“Well.” You muttered. “That was weird. Is that what it's like, when you look down at me? What was that loud light?”

You must not have been able to see yourself in the dream, the way he had.

“That...that was the old Bifrost. It used to be like that, when it was fully functional and powered up. Brighter. Bigger. More color, more range, a louder roar. Just more powerful.”

Powerful enough to slice through the mile thick ice crust of a tiny, helpless planet, creating a canyon a quarter of the way across the equatorial region, exposing the water far below, and causing Norns only knew what kind of havoc.

You had still been beautiful, in the colorful light, in the wrong skin, the wrong size. Still beautiful. Somehow, it repulsed him.

But the dream was gone now, the shock fading away into the warmth you brought to his bed. He settled back down into your waiting arms. It was so comfortable here. Though not yet lovers exactly, you fit so well into his bed, and he fit so well into your arms, his head resting between your breast and jaw, so he could hear the steady pumping of your heart.

“Sleep, okay?” You encouraged. “Everyone's leaving tomorrow. Then you'll have peace again.”

“Hm? Whatever do you mean?” Loki said. He knew what you meant, but was surprised that you'd thought of it.

“Well, it's stressful, right? Having all these enemies around, pax or no.” You said, absently stroking his hair.

“Not enemies. Not anymore.”

“Not friends either, though. Bad blood.”

“Some of them.” He admitted.”Some of them weren't even there at the time. Many of the others have...well, not forgiven me precisely, but accepted the reality of me. Or simply moved on. But then, there are those who can't.”

“Tony.”

“It isn't his fault. My actions fundamentally changed him. How many others like him? I wonder sometimes.”

“You regret what you did?” You sounded...not surprised, but curious.

“I regret the lives lost. Though my actions actually brought some benefit to your world-forced your governments to realize there were threats from outside, to at least try to prepare for further incursions, revitalize your space programs, recognize your heroes...but it is terribly unbecoming to attack civilians.”

“Huglausi?” You ventured.

“Very.” He sighed. “I compromised my honor very severely. Obliterated it, really. I've done many unseen things to try to restore it. In the end, it's really all I have.”

He wrapped one arm around you and snuggled up as close as was possible without actually being on top of you.

“I've seen how superficial so many things really are, how easy it is to be stripped of them. Title. Wealth. Name. Home. Identity. The only thing that truly lasts, the only thing that has impact, is deeds. And mine have been...reprehensible.”

“But it wasn't entirely you.” You pointed out. “You were being controlled.”

“Not entirely. I told you, it was still me. I know it's tempting to attribute everything to some behind-the-scenes puppetmaster, but it wasn't like that, it was...” He trailed off, squeezing you.

“Like what?”

He held his breath and shook his head a little. If he told you too much, if he told you everything, you would never lie next to him again. He would lose this as soon as he had gotten it.

But didn't you deserve to know what kind of creature you slept next to? Didn't you at least deserve to know what was behind his actions on Earth? Maybe not the rest of it, but the things that impacted the world you lived in?

“You know how you hate the man who hurt you during the Sn-the Event? But you wish you did not, and you wish you could forgive him, but the anger and unfairness of it just hits you sometimes? And you feel guilty about it, and that makes you angry too; bitter, resentful. And that makes you feel even worse, and it just builds on itself, until it finally goes away, but you're miserable the whole time, and a while afterwards?”

“Uh...yeah. It's exactly like that, actually.”

“I too, have things that make me feel that way. And the influence of the Mind Stone was such that it made those thoughts, those angers and resentments come to the surface, and then it kept them there. It kept them fresh and constant-no healing, no overcoming, no acceptance or moving on, and, most importantly, no relief. It was neverending. A great font of anger and bitterness as fresh as the moment it was inflicted, and sustained, indefinitely, by the stone's power over me.

Thanos didn't put a ring in my nose to lead me around by; he didn't have to. A smidgen of psychological manipulation, and I was his. A nearly willing slave. I wanted the havoc I caused. I reveled in the chaos, the fear. I bathed in the sounds of screaming and destruction, lusted after the blood and terror.”

His breath had grown heavy. You fingers paused in his hair.

“I wanted it because I felt I had nothing else. No future, no identity. Only deeds. And I was determined to make them the biggest deeds I could, for good or ill. I was an avatar of the worst that a being like me could become, and the greatest I had ever been. I enjoyed what I was doing, because it was the only outlet, the only respite from the hate and anger that I had.

For all my plans, I could never have ruled like that. It's a lie the Mind Stone told me, that I tell myself, again and again. I could have done it. I could have made it work. But I could not even master myself. It was all lies, upon lies, upon lies. Lies built me. Lies define me, and that entire experience just proved it beyond any shadow of a doubt.”

“Loki...”

“Shhh.” He lightly brushed your mouth with his fingertips. “I committed great deeds. Great and terrible. And now, now that I control myself, now that the malign influence no longer hangs over me, I can no longer commit deeds so great. I cannot rebuild your city. You have already done that. I cannot show generosity in equal measure to my destructiveness. Asgards budget is too tight. Somehow, on the other side of madness, I am incapable of doing good in equal measure to ill. Why must it be so easy to harm you, but so difficult to help you?”

“Maybe because we all need different kinds of help, but we all die the same.” You said, and he grew quiet in contemplation. “ Loki, you have a lot you want to do, right? Rebuild Asgard, fix your reputation, help the people around you, be a good ruler. And on top of that, you have responsibilities to your family, and your people, and...well, to me too. As your...”

“Paramour...” He breathed. “Yes. I have...responsibilities. You...you need me.” It was almost a plea. “You want me...You want to be near me...I've been good to you...haven't I? Is there anything you need? Anything at all?”

You seemed to sense the tendrils of desperation that wound inside of him as he had explained himself, as he sought something to expend his energy on, and you resumed stroking his hair.

“Yes.” You said. “I need you to hold me for the rest of the night. I need to feel you close to me. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up to you first thing in the morning. That's all I want right now. Can you give me those things?”

He didn't move, just remained molded to you, head tucked under your jaw. Purpose. Simple, attainable purpose.

“All those things and more. Thank you, _____. I needed to say it. I knew you would listen. Without the stone, I would have healed, at least a little. Without the stone, I have healed. A little. There was time to mourn, time to accept. Time to look forward. I...I wish I was already the man I could be for you. I will be though. If you will but be patient with me.”

“Sleep, Loki.” You said. “I want to get to that waking up with you next to me part.”

                                                                               *****

And so you did, slipping gently back into consciousness, with the comfortable weight of Loki's arm across your chest. You turned your head to find he had tucked you under his chin, cuddling you like a plush doll.

You kissed his throat until he shifted and his breathing changed.

“Darling...” He mumbled sleepily. “Blessed maiden of comfort. Good morning.”

“Mornin' sweetie.” You said, and he scoffed at the pet name.

“I am a god.” He said

“You are a grump.” You answered, kissing the tip of his nose and shimmying out of bed.

He slithered out after you. “Am I really?”

“Only sometimes.” You teased.

You didn't join him in the bath this time, opting to take one in the evening instead. Your clothes had been left in a neatly folded stack just outside the door to Loki's bedroom rather than outside of yours.

Oh yes, everyone knew what was going on.

You reflected on how easy that acceptance seemed to be, as you slipped into your clothes for the day. Aside from a few loud, unpleasant, and downright dangerous individuals, the people of Asgard seemed perfectly fine with you.

Even though you'd been told several times that there was a struggle between human-friendly and human-unfriendly factions, it was really being treated as if the eventual failure and disappearance of the human-unfriendly groups was a foregone conclusion. As if it had all happened before, and had turned out the same every time.

Well, hadn't it?

The war with the Vanir had ended millenia ago, possibly before the first human civilizations had even begun. You could see the influence of their heritage in Saldis' features, and knew there were full Vanir here in Asgard who were trapped away from Vanaheim by the events of Ragnarok. Nobody cared anymore. The former queen of Asgard and the guardian of all Asgard were both raised by Alfar. Heck, with the strangeness of Heimdalls eyes, there might actually have been Alfar in his family tree.

Once you thought about it, there might be a little Jotun mixed in as well. Probably not Frost Giants, since they still seemed to be a point of contention among Asgardians, but other kinds of Jotun they didn't seem to have much trouble with. You knew the Vanir didn't have any trouble with intermarrying with them, and neither Loki, Brunnhilde, or Saga seemed to think they idea of marrying a Jotun was all that strange. Freyr was married to one, and they didn't act like he was a freak or anything. In fact, since Jotun were so genetically flexible, it was possible that any Asgardian could have a Jotun ancestor, and it might not even show at all.

You knew absolutely nothing about the previous queens of Asgard, save for where Frigga was raised...

Nah. You didn't actually want to go fishing for more royal scandal. You technically were one, even if the majority of Asgardians had accepted that you were but a harbinger of what was to come. They had survived intermingling with others, and they would survive humans too. Probably come out even better for it, if the history Saga taught you was accurate.

The real problem might just be other humans reactions to the idea. Humans were far too proficient at focusing on the differences between people, and dividing themselves up into groups that weren't supposed to be allowed to mingle...but still definitely did, even if the consequences were terrible. That was the problem. There shouldn't be those kinds of consequences, but there would be.  For the longest time, humans only had other humans to define as 'outsiders'. Only very recently had extraterrestrial intelligent species come to their attention, and almost every time, it was in a very negative way.

Part of the world was very on board with the Asgardians, but it was because of a shared cultural history. They regarded the Asgardians as partially 'theirs' somehow. But the rest of the world had no such ties, and some countries had a definite-and admittedly justified-beef with certain prominent Asgardians. One of which you happened to be actually dating.

Okay, but what could they actually do to you, aside from troll you on the internet? Asgard was on the lookout for assassins now, and you had committed no crimes. Besides, being with Loki was a good thing, right? It was a symbol of friendliness and good will between Asgard and humankind, right?

That was definitely not why you were doing it though. You just really liked him. Loki was a man of many virtues. One of them was how he came back from the bath, shirtless, and with his hair still damp.

That was a very good one.

Loki gave his hair one last scrub with the towel, dropped said towel over the back of his desk chair, and opened the carved wooden doors to his huge wardrobe. He stood in contemplation of the perfect thing to wear.

“What do you think...” He murmured. “What's the best combination for saying goodbye to a group of not-quite-enemies?”

“Peacefully?” You asked.

“Of course! I can't let it be known, but I actually like some of them, just a little.”

“So you want the 'lady who has just divorced her jackass, loser husband, and is past ready to mingle' look.”

One perfect eyebrow arched. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” You ducked under his arm and peered into the wardrobe. “So you wanna show off, but not your very best, because that's trying too hard, right? All black is dramatic, and looks so good on you...”

He preened.

“...But I think it might make you fade into the backdrop. How about this one though? The green matches mine, so we could present as a unified front. Also I like this little short cape.”

“This is a capelet. Would you like one? They are not difficult to make; I can order some for you.”  

He held up the tunic; a quilted thing of rich pine green and gold piping, knotwork designs at the stiff cuffs and mandarin collar.

“You like this?”

“It looks very...touchable.”

Both eyebrows went up this time. “Is that the image we want to project?”

“Put it on, and lets see.”

The tunic molded to him, so tight that you would have though it simply didn't fit. But he seemed to be able to move in it just fine. You ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

“I was right. Very touchable.”

He caught your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“I'm glad you like it, but I don't think so. Not this one. It is actually part of a matched set made for myself and Thor, when we were younger.. It doesn't feel right to wear it, if he is not wearing his. I doubt he still even fits into his.”

He removed the tunic, and searched for another.

“I do like the color matching idea though. Perhaps this one? It is similar.”

This tunic did not fit him quite as tightly, but was still expertly tailored, and still the same color of green. It fell all the way to his knees, split to the hips in four places, and the sleeves terminated in sharp points over the back of his hands. It was quilted as well, but the pattern was more like scales, and you noticed that the metallic thread was gradated; starting out black at the bottom, then shifting to green, then gold at the collar and shoulders.

“Wow.” You breathed. “You look like a dragon!”

“Well,” He said. “I did steal you and fly you away to my lair full of riches, did I not?”

“That you did. Speaking of riches...can you help me with my brooches?”

“Of course, my dear.” He plucked the oval brooches from your palm, very carefully pinning them in place, so as not to prick you. As you had thought, he got them perfectly centered, their strings of beads cascading over the top of your breasts. They drew his eyes. “But you know how to pin them yourself, don't you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You said, a little sultriness slipping into your voice. Loki's eyes flicked to yours. He licked his lips.

You were in his arms barely a moment later, drowning in his mouth.

“I wish I was the man I could be for you. I will be.”

No man had ever said anything like that to you before. Never expressed any desire to be better for you. It was usually the opposite.

Loki, prince and god, wanted to be better. For you.

You were going to miss breakfast.

[theunkillablebitchseries]

8. Pandemic + Survivorship = All the Feels

So it’s been a really long while. So for anyone living under a rock or on a game show that keeps you in one house. Here’s the news- globally we are experiencing a pandemic of COVID-19 aka the Coronavirus. Supposedly it first popped off in Wuhan, China and then made it’s happy little way to Europe, other parts of Asia and the Americas. 

So depending on what day your job decided you could work from home or laid you off because you work in the service/hospitality industry (yay me) and if you are heeding the calls for social distancing (as you definitely should) you are somewhere between day 4 or day 7 of quarantine. Meaning you’re socially isolating as much as possible. 

I am on day 5. 

Day 1 was fine I could feel some weird anger creeping up on me I didn’t understand.

Day 2 was okay, I tried ignoring the angry but I don’t think I was doing a good job about it. 

Day 3 I started acknowledging I was angry.

Day 4 I was so angry I didn’t even understand it. I thought my blood would thicken and burst out of me from how angry I was. 

And it did.

Day 5 is better. Now I’m more sad than angry. 

But then my angry feels sad a lot of times. I don’t know if that made any sense. 

So whenever there was something bad going on in my life, it’d always hit me the worst at night. The lack of sun, and the quiet felt almost suffocating, as though there was no escaping whatever the problem was. I think that’s why when I was sick, the times it’d hit me the hardest were at night. 

It’s no secret that when I was sick my most dominant feeling was anger. I was angry I was sick. I was angry to put my life on hold. I was angry that I had to stay home and kind of just watch the world go on without my participation. Kind of like FOMO. I’m finding that that anger is coming back full force right now. I feel like once again my life isn’t mine, that I don’t get to just be. 

The thing is that as terrible as it felt to not be able to live my life like any normal 20 year old, there was comfort in the fact that as much as it felt like it to me the world was in fact not ending. People were still living their normal lives, many of them without any real struggles, many of them with that I had no idea about. There was comfort in thinking it’s just me. My friends were fine, my family was fine (relatively), the world was still spinning and the sun would come back tomorrow. 

I would go out as much as I could when I was sick, basically until I didn't have a strong enough immune system and I was just too tired to. My outings got less and less. And I just felt angrier and angrier. Defiant might be the better word. 

I remember at the beginning of treatment I went to a concert and my oncologist was so annoyed. Not smart but I was so hard-pressed to want to give up my freedom, what felt like my whole life, regardless of how short or long the time was. And as much as my sister and parents didn’t like it, I still went out. At least the weeks when my blood counts were up. 

A cancer diagnosis felt like a big fuck you to me. As ridiculous as it sounds, going out and trying to be normal felt like one of the only ways I could say fuck you back. I didn’t want to die so I wasn’t going to deny treatment. Every painful procedure, poke and prod, all the discomfort, I just had to take it. Even though, I know for the most part it was done to get me well, it still felt like abuse. It might sound dramatic but it felt like I was some lamb being led to the slaughter. 

My desire to just go out and be normal felt like reclamation, maybe a little reckless but it felt like one of the only ways I could shake my body and remind it, 

You are mine. 

Do right by me. 

Stop. 

Be better. 

Please stop. 

please. 

But also going out just reminded me that it wasn’t the end of the world. Mine often felt like it was going under but at least it was just mine. I took comfort in the fact that this wasn’t a big deal to others aside from my friends and family. I don't know how to explain it other than it felt good to go out in the world and see strangers and assume (even if it was wrong) that they were fine, to see strangers and think my blood hasn’t changed anything about their lives, to assume they aren’t trapped or overwhelmed by the same fear as I am. I don’t think I realized just how damaging that time was in this specific way. Social distancing is hard. People shouldn’t say it isn’t. It’s hard and honestly traumatic. I’m feeling so triggered by this need to stay inside and illness being the constant topic of discussion.

So in the wake of COVID-19, and having to stay home to flatten the curve and try not to spread the virus and because my lungs aren’t all that great, I have felt that same sensation of doom, or not being able to escape time x1000. Because now it’s not just me. It’s my family, my siblings and parents and partner and friends and the whole world. I can’t go out and think, “that person probably doesn’t hold the same worry that I do,” because chances are they do. I’m angry at the fact that I feel like a cancer patient all over again, that so many of those familiar feelings of helplessness and sadness are coming back. Because I’ve worked so hard to let those go. And it’s just. A scary time I think. For everyone. But the fact that I can’t wrap my head around seeing this end, at least for my treatment there was some sort of timeline- this on the other hand does not. We just have to ride it out. And I’m hoping it ends soon.

And to get a little more personal, there’s also something to be said about the fact that for so long the only consistent touching I’d get would be from doctors and nurses and not all of it was pleasant. In the end it left me feeling like an exposed nerve, paranoid and willing to lash out at the slightest touch. For a while after treatment I hated being touched, because for so long it felt like I was just meat to be dealt with, with little dignity or gentleness. Socially isolating from someone that’s been providing that for me is strange and just sad. 

All the resentment and fear and hurt from my time as a cancer patient is bubbling up, and I’m trying to move through it by having grace for myself, being patient with my feelings and reminding myself the world still isn’t ending. The loneliness is sharp, even with my family under one roof, it’s difficult. I didn’t expect to feel this way, like I was a cancer patient again but I do. And I’m sad about it, and angered. And very much triggered. It’s not pleasant being bombarded in your head with memories and feelings from one of the worst times of your life.

I never really know how to end posts, but to anyone who’s currently dealing with cancer or is a survivor and anything that I said resonated with you just know- I see you. I know. It’s hard. I know this time of quarantine is bringing up so much unpleasantness. Be kind to yourself. Breathe. We are okay. The world is not ending even though it feels like it is. We are still in control of our lives and of our choices. I hope we choose right. To check in with our friends and family. To stay safe and to practice social distancing. For us whose bodies went through some intense cancer shit, for those whose bodies are still going through that intense cancer shit, for those for one reason or another their bodies are fragile, for everyone. Social isolation is triggering and so hard. We deserve and need to care for ourselves and others. We are not alone, sending love and gentleness your way.  

Also fuck capitalism and the mess it’s made of this situation and so many others. :)

[denadigalaksi]

The Sun and Her Flowers (2)

Willing

i long for you. but you long for someone else. i deny the one who wants. cause i want someone else.

you’re everywhere. except right here. and it hurts.

what draws you to her. tell me what you like. so i can practice.

you call to tell me you miss me. i turn to face the front door of the house. waiting for a knock. days later you call to say you need me. but still aren’t here.

the dandelions on the lawn. are rolling their eyes in disappointment. the grass has declared you yesterday’s news.

what do i care. if you love me. or miss me. or need me. when you aren’t doing anything about it. if i’m not the love of your life. i’ll be the greatest loss instead.

day by day i realize. everything i miss about you. was never there in the first place - the person i fell in love with was a mirage

they leave. and act like it never happened. they come back. and act like they never left - ghosts

i tried to find it. but there was no answer. at the end of the last conversation - closure

why is it. that when the story ends. we begin to feel all of it.

rise. said the moon. and the new day came. the show must go on said the sun. life does not stop for anybody. it drags you by the legs. whether you want to move forward or not. that is the gift. life will force you to forget how you long for them. your skin will shed till there is not. a single part of you left they’ve touched. your eyes finally just your eyes not the eyes which held them. you will make it to the end. of what is only the beginning. go on. open the door to the rest of it - time

Falling

you are waiting for someone. who is not coming back. meaning you are living your life. hoping that someone will realize. they can’t live theirs without you - realizations doesn’t work like that

a lot of times. we are angry at other people. for not doing what. we should have done for ourselves - responsibility

i hear a thousand kind words about me. and it makes no difference. yet i hear one insult. and all confidence shatters - focusing on the negative

tell them i was the warmest place you knew. and you turned me cold.

it felt like you threw me so far from myself. i have been trying to find my way back ever since

the irony of loneliness is we all feel it at the same time - together

you were mine. and my life was full. you are no longer mine. and my life is full.

you do not just wake up and become the butterfly - growth is a process

like the rainbow. after the rain. joy will reveal itself. after sorrow.

despite knowing. they won’t be here for long they still choose to live. their brightest lives - sunflowers

when the world comes crashing at your feet. it’s okay to let others. help pick up the pieces. if we’re present to take part in your happiness when your circumstances are great. we are more than capable. of sharing your pain.

it is possible to hate and love someone at the same time. i do it myself. every day.

the way you speak of yourself. the way you degrade yourself. into smallness id abuse - self harm

i would scrub the self hate off the bone. till it exposed love - self love

healing is everyday work

stop looking up at everything you don’t have and look around at everything you do - where the satisfaction lives.

Rooting

when it came to speaking. she said do it with commitment. every word you say. is your own responsibility.

Rising

a fresh love is a gift

the orange trees refused to blossom. unless we bloomed first. when we met. they wept tangerines. can’t you tell the earth has waited it’s whole life for thus - celebration.

it has been one of the greatest and most difficult years of my life. i learned everything is temporary. moments. feelings. people. flowers. i learned love is about giving. everything. and letting it hurt. i learned vulnerability is always the right choice because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft. i learned all things come in twos. life and death. pain and joy. salt and sugar. me and you. it is the balance of the universe. it has been the year of hurting so bad but living so good. making friends out of strangers. making strangers out of friends. learning mint chocolate chip ice cream will fix just about everything. and for the pains it can’t there will always be my mother’s arms. we must learn to focus on warm energy. always. soak our limbs in it and become better lovers to the world. for if we can’t learn to be kind to each other how will we ever learn to be kind to the most desperate  parts of ourselves.

Blooming

i will no longer. compare my path to others

to hate. is an easy lazy things. but to love takes strength. everyone has. but not all are willing to practice.

to heal. you have to get to the root. of the wound.

and then there are days when the simple act of breathing leaves you exhausted. it seems easier to give up on this life. the thought of disappearing brings you peace. for so long i was lost in a place where there was no sun. where there grew no flowers. but every once in a while out of the darkness something i loved would emerge and bring me to life again. witnessing a starry sky. the lightness of laughing with old friends. a reader who told me the poems had saved their life. yet there i was struggling to save my own. my darlings. living is difficult. it is difficult for everybody. and it is at that moment when living feels like crawling through a pin-sized hole. that we must resist the urge of succumbing to bad memories. refuse to bow before bad months or bad years. cause our eyes are starving to feast on this world. there are so many turquoise bodies of water left for us to dive in. there is family. blood or chosen. the possibility of falling in love. with people and places. hills high as the moon. valleys that roll into new worlds. and road trips. i find it deeply important to accept that we are not the masters of this place. we are her visitors. and like guests let’s enjoy this place like a garden. let us treat it with a gentle hand. so the ones after us can experience it too. let’s find our own sun. grow our own flowers. the universe delivered us with the light and the seeds. we might not hear it at times but the music is always on. it just needs to be turned louder. for as long as there is breath in our lungs—we must keep dancing. 

[ariadnelives]

Chapter 20 -- The Confessions

[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3”]

“Hey Zee,” Sasha said, “what’s the note say?”

“I’m still trying to load it up,” Sweettalk replied. “I swear I’m this close to breaking this machine, that rat bastard used some kind of old filetype and the computers are taking whole minutes to load it. He did this on purpose, he couldn’t just die without taking one last chance to piss me off.”

Of course, even if Prescott had not intentionally made the document tedious to access, Sweettalk would not have been eager to read it.

When a loved one dies, it is very often painful for their friends and family to read the notes they left behind. Knowing that every word you read is one less new part of them that’s left out there to find makes it incredibly difficult to struggle through an entire letter. This is why, for example, someone who received a wrapped gift from a loved one who tragically died before they were able to unwrap it might leave that gift wrapped on a shelf next to a framed picture of the dear departed, looking wistfully at it every year before deciding they couldn’t bring themselves to unwrap it knowing it would be the last gift they would ever receive from that person.

This was not the situation Sweettalk found herself in. Prescott was not a loved one, not family, not a friend, not even someone whose death Sweettalk was even remotely sad about, and as she would soon find out, the note was not a heartfelt goodbye, but a screed of irritating backpedaling, self-congratulation, and one single horrible truth that made the rest of it seem paltry by comparison.

“I mean, look at this,” Sweettalk said, gesturing at the faintly glowing blue holo-screen before her, “all I ever wanted from him was to leave me alone forever, and not only does he manage to screw that up from beyond the grave, he went out of his way to make it inconvenient for me.”

“I honestly don’t even know what he has left to say to you, like,” Sasha wondered, “it’s not like you were subtle about how little he meant to you.”

There was a small ding from the holo-screen. “I guess we’re about to find out,” Sweettalk said, and the two girls pulled in close to read.

The note read:

“Mingxia:

If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. The reason I had to use such an archaic filetype is because I needed to know I’d be able to discreetly delete the file before it was discovered if I returned from the mission safely. I did the same thing with the dossier on the Zealot. Hey, sue me, you guys took me prisoner and cut off my fingers, I think I’ve more than earned one little betrayal.

I’m not a perfect person. There’s a lot of things I’ve done that I regret, and I think I’m a big enough person to admit that. You’ve seen a lot of my mistakes, even helped me with a few of them (so, you know, keep in mind that they weren’t completely my fault, you dirty dirty criminal), but there’s one you don’t know about, and I think you’ve got a right to:

Years ago, when we were both living in Xiagu, before the plague hit, I told you that I was an adventurer, which was true. Not all of my adventures were legal, but only one of them had real consequences.

One of my adventures was a smuggling run, importing exotic fruits and vegetables into town. I mean, I was basically just a salad dealer, which is a victimless crime, but that idiot miner needed some fast cash in exchange for a brick of platinum ore he’d swiped. It took me a while to piece it together, but the ore had to be from the asteroid mining company that they traced the plague’s contagion back to. That would explain why he gave me a dose of medicine to take before I handled it, eh? The miner must have forgotten to disinfect it, and the moronic customs agent I gave it to must have forgotten to take proper safety precautions when he opened it, and from there it got into the climate control system and got everybody sick, except you and me.

You don’t see reason and you have no sense of forgiveness whatsoever, so you’ll probably try to find some way to pin the blame on me, but I can’t stress hard enough that this was not my fault. It was the miner’s fault, the customs agent’s fault, and the fault of whatever half-wits were working the climate control system after they got infected.

So, before you go throwing dirt on my memory, I hope you keep this in mind: You’d be dead if not for me. Those idiots exposed everyone to a deadly virus but you survived because I got you out of town in time. I hope you remember that before you and your little friends start disrespecting the dead. I saved your life.

Love,

Prescott Cain”

Sweettalk was shaking. Her knuckles were white and her fingernails had actually managed to draw blood on her palms. There were no tears in her eyes.

“Is he serious?!” Sasha asked, hoping that she was helping by articulating her anger while Sweettalk could not, “He thinks he saved your life?”

Sweettalk let out a very long, angry scream and swung her fist down on the table, cracking the lens of the hologram projector and shattering the image of the note into several faded shadows of the complete piece.

“This… this… MOTHERFUCKER killed my parents… he blamed them for it… and he didn’t even have the decency to let me die with them!!”

“Zee,” Sasha started, but it was no use.

“He kidnaps me and forces me to be his servant because, what, he thinks I owe him?!” Sweettalk slammed her fists again, ripped the drive containing the note out of its port, and hurled it into a nearby wall, where it shattered. She was now screaming herself hoarse. “And to top it all off, he waits until after he’s dead to tell me so I can’t even rip his fucking throat out?!”

“You’re scaring me,” Sasha said as calmly as she could, “please, have some water, or—”

“Where did you put his remains?!” Sweettalk roared. “I need to see that fucker’s lifeless head right the hell now.”

She must have known the answer, and Sasha must have known it would be pointless to try and calm her down, because they both immediately started for the infirmary. Sweettalk immediately saw the stasis jar containing Prescott’s remains and grabbed it, quickly deactivated it, and gripped it by the hair.

She held it up so she could make eye contact with it, then spoke calmly for the first time since she’d read his letter. “You. Got. Off. Easy.”

Next, she got a metal tray off a shelf and dropped the head unceremoniously onto it, then walked over to the biohazard incinerator, slotted the tray inside, and hit the button with the door still open.

The heat made her eyes feel dried out, and the smell was absolutely revolting, but it’s not like she’d be producing many tears anyway. She watched as the flesh boiled and then burnt away from the bone, and then watched as the bone cracked and collapsed until there was nothing left on the tray but a pile of gray ashes. She grabbed a nearby heat-proof glove and removed the tray.

“Can we dump this out the airlock?” She asked Sasha, starting to shake again.

Sasha grabbed another glove and took the tray from her. “I love you, you know. I’m glad you didn’t die in Xiagu.”

“I know,” Sweettalk said meekly, feeling incredibly guilty about regretting her continued life in front of the person who made it worth living more than anyone else, “I’m really sorry. I’m glad I lived to meet you, even if it meant spending a few years under the thumb of this… worthless excuse for a con artist…”

“Don’t be,” Sasha replied, “happens to the best of us. I’m going to go dump these ashes somewhere undignified, you go rest. I’ll see you at dinner, then we can watch a movie after lights-out, okay?”

Sweettalk almost smiled. “Okay,” she said, “I love you too.”