#if you saw me post this before no you didn’t

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

-

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

-

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

-

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

-

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

-

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

[pit-and-the-pen]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Pt 2 to unrequited love)

A/n: HERE IT IS BESTIES!!! The official Pt 2 to unrequited love! I know the poll is still live but I’m impatient. So to make sure I’m still taking everyone’s votes into account there will be an alternate ending that should be posted right after this.

Read the Alt ending here, it's pretty similar in places

Read Pt 3 here

I'm still absolutely blown away by how well-received the first part was. This is going to be an ongoing series, all could be read individually but the "background" will be these two fics.

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, reader suffers from depressed thoughts

WC: ~3.4k

divder by @cafekitsune

The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 

“I’m going back home.” 

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.

“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 

“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 

“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 

“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 

“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 

I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 

Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 

It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly.  He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 

Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 

“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 

“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 

“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.

“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”

My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.

“I need you to break a mating bond”

His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 

“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 

“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 

“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 

“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 

I sat on the decision for a month. A month of volleying back and forth. Weighting the pros and cons of my choice. I had started doing my own research through the tomes in the library I had access to. My eyes widened as I finally found the information I needed. 

Picking up the book I all but sprinted to Helion’s office. I didn't bother knocking as I pushed past the door. Helion looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow at me. 

Panting, I showed him the page in the book. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” I promised him. He still looked skeptical but walked around to where I stood anyway. 

“I can’t say this is going to be pleasant.” He said wearily as I laid down on the couch in his study. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing this. I’ve seen rejection but this is cutting off the magic at the source.”

I looked into the males eyes, eyes I had known my whole life.

“Please. Nothing can hurt more than this already does.” Sympathy washed over his face and he leaned over me, placing a hand to each of my temples. It felt like the worst headache I had ever had in my life. My head was being split open and I heard the whimper leave my mouth. The pressure of his hands lifted slightly and I fought to get out the words. “I’m okay. Keep going.” I couldn’t open my eyes to see his face but his hands didn’t move. The pounding broke to a burning heat. I could feel the moment it snapped, I could almost picture the scissors snipping that tight string that connected us. One last fleeting rush of pure pain pushed through the bond. And then it was gone. My head was still pounding, I opened my eyes and saw Helion panted above me. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, helping me into a sitting position. 

“Like I have one hell of a hangover.” I pressed a hand to the bridge of my nose. Like I could squeeze out the uncomfortable feeling. “But also lighter.” My free hand going to my chest. It would take some time to adjust to this new feeling. But I could not stop the smile that spread over my face. Before Helion could say anything else, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I said into his neck. He gave a tight laugh and hugged me back. 

“You should go sleep this off. Please tell me if any of the pain gets worse.” He held my face between his hands and I nodded as much as I could. I all but floated back to my room. 

I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 

I smiled as the pang in my chest at the thought of Azriel held no pain. It had taken me some time to get used to the emptiness in my chest, I had grown so used to the hollow feeling of the unreturned bond but this emptiness wasn’t pain but instead it was like a weight had been taken off my chest. 

Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 

The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as I smoothed out the light fabric. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 

My reflection looked like a stranger. My hair was pinned to one side, sweeping down over my shoulder and my back. A golden tiara was woven into loose curls. Long golden chandelier earrings studded with diamonds almost touched my shoulders. The sun had created a sultry blush on the high points of my cheeks. I looked happier than I had in years. I sensed Helion's presence in my room and caught his eyes in the floor length mirror. 

He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 

“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 

“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 

The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 

I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 

“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 

His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 

“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. 

“Well good thing he’s not my mate anymore.” I whispered back to him, voice breathy. He responded with a kiss to my neck. All of a sudden I felt his warmth disappear. Before I could even process what had happened, I was standing half ways across the room. Eris just smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Stand down, you overgrown bat.” The High Lord said and that’s when I heard the growl from my side, caught a glimpse of wings and sapphire blue. Before another word could leave my mouth, I was being pulled out of the ballroom and outside to the balcony. 

I thrashed against Azriel’s grip on my arm. His hand wrapped around my wrist tight enough to bruise. 

“What the hel was that?” He yelled at me, finally letting go of my wrist.

“You had no right!” I screeched at him. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 

“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 

“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “Would hearing that I looked for you in every female I came across help us here?.” 

“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 

“No. Gods this is coming out all wrong.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair. I clocked the shake in them “Why did you break the bond?”

I laughed at his audacity. “Why? You have the nerve to ask me why?” My voice dripped venom, “I did it because I couldn’t stand being tied to you like that. That night..” I started, he interrupted me.

“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 

“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 

His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 

I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. What is done was done. 

“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 

“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone. Until I felt that bond being snatched away from me” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. 

“I had dreamed for so long how it would feel when I finally heard you say those words, And do you know what I feel?” His eyes glimmered with hope as I took a step away from him, out of his grasp. “Nothing. I feel nothing for you. Not anger, not contempt.” Tears slipped out of his eyes at my harsh words. “Of course I remember what it felt like before. Maybe some part of me will always love you in my own way but I’m not tied to you anymore and I have never been so thankful for something in my entire life.” He flinched like I had hit him.

“Do you really mean that?” His voice was so small it almost made me feel bad for him. Almost.

“I do.” I sucked in a heavy breath. “Look, we’ll most likely still have to see each other so I don’t want to end on a bad note. You were still one of my best friends for over a century and this doesn’t undo all of that but this,” I gesture between the two of us, “Will never be anything else but that, a friendship.” He gave me a sad smile. 

“I’ll take whatever you are willing to give me.” I turned to walk away and he reached for my arm, I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before I walked back to the ball that was in full swing. 

I weaved in between bodies easily. Finding Eris with ease. Despite being in the middle of a conversation, he stepped away the moment he sensed my presence. Not sparing a glance to the fae surrounding him. 

“That’s all settled then?” He asked, giving me a once over. I nodded and took his hand again.

“I believe we were in the middle of a dance?” I pulled him against me, not realizing how much I missed the feeling of his heat against my skin. I placed my head on his chest. We didn’t so much as dance, more so swayed in place. Arms wrapped around each other. He tapped my chin with a gentle finger and I let him guide my mouth up to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, like holding your hands in front of a warm fire after a day in the cold. When I tried to deepen it, he laughed against my lips. I let out a shameless whine as he disconnected our lips. As I looked into his eyes, I felt the stirring of something familiar and for the first time, welcomed it as that hole in my chest was filled again.

Tagging people that seemed excited about pt. 2

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @yearninglustfully @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

[1800-fight-me]

Hiiiiiiii. :)

First I love love love your fics.

You’re awesome.

Secondly you have a fic called duty and honor or something like that, where Aemond goes to war and his little wife is pregnant.

In it Aegon makes comments to her that she doesn’t like. I was wondering if you would write a continuation fic where now Aemond is back he over hears his brother and becomes all protective knowing this has been happening all the time he was away as well.

Just love protective pissed off In love Aemond and the way you write him, makes a girl swoon :) 🌹

Of Retribution & Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature) (as always - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, reader is a couple weeks postpartum, Aemond being protective

Word count: About 1.3k

Synopsis: Your husband defends your honor and protects you from the hateful words of his brother.

Author’s note: This ask is from the summer of last year lmao my bad,,, I've been going through it lately but hopefully this fic was worth the wait and still makes you swoon! Thanks for the love and support! Hopefully this is also the start of me being more involved in writing and the fandom again! This is part three of my first ever Aemond fic!!

Part one - Of Duty and Honor

Part two - Of War and Longing

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

“It certainly appears to be true that childbirth takes away a woman’s beauty,” Aegon practically sneered at you as he looked up and down your body. 

It was merely two weeks after you gave birth to Aemond’s daughter and your emotions were all over the place. 

His words filled you with such anger and self consciousness that your body could not hold in the emotions. 

Most embarrassingly, your eyes filled with tears. You were aghast at your reaction. Though Aegon often frustrated you, you certainly did not care enough about his opinion on your appearance for his words to cut so deep. 

Though if you were honest with yourself, you were already uncomfortable with your appearance today and wished you could have avoided today’s gathering. Though Aemond had assured you that you looked lovely, it was obvious to you, despite your lady’s maid’s best efforts, that you were exhausted. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin, your body went through massive changes and had not had the time and chance to adjust back. 

So there, in front of Aegon and the rest of your in-laws, you began to cry. 

Damn these uncontrollable emotions that came on so strongly after giving birth. 

You wanted to run and hide, and turned to do just that when Aemond walked in the room. 

His brow knitted in concern and his footsteps quickened as soon as he saw you. 

He was at your side and pulled you into his larger frame as he looked down at you. 

“What is wrong?” He asked, his voice tight. His gaze was on you before his eye darted around the room scanning it for danger or anything that could have caused your distraught state. 

You pursed your lips, afraid to speak for fear of more embarrassing tears flowing. 

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice dark with the promise of violence.

You really didn’t want to be the cause of another fight between him and his brother. 

“Aegon was being vile,” Heleana spoke up. 

You looked back at her in surprise that she would speak up, stand up for you. 

Aemond looked over your head at his brother and his eye narrowed. 

“What did you say to my wife,” he practically growled. 

Aegon visibly blanched and as quick as that your mood changed. You held back a smile. You were eager to see Aegon finally receive consequences for all the horrible things he’d said to you throughout your pregnancy when Aemond was off winning his war. 

“N-nothing,” he said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

Aemond glanced down at you. He could’ve asked you but it was clear he wanted to make his brother sweat, make him admit to hurting you. 

He glared at Aegon who chose to glare back. 

Alicent let out a long suffering sigh and explained to Aemond what had been said. 

“That’s not the only thing he’s said too, right?” Heleana asked, her voice sweet and innocent. It amused you that she continued to push the issue, trying to get her husband in trouble. 

A horrible thought clanged through you that every vile comment he’d made to you, at least you had Aemond’s protection. Maybe it was worse for her. And maybe getting Aemond to punish Aegon for how he treated you was a safe way for her to get retribution as well. 

So you met her eyes, took a deep breath, set your jaw, and turned back to your husband. You told him every awful thing you could remember that Aegon said to you those eight months that Aemond was gone. 

You ignored Aegon, looking only at your husband as you spoke. 

As you finished, the tension in the room was thick, and it became so quiet, quiet enough that you could hear Aegon take a step back. 

Aemond took a deep calming breath, gently brushed you aside, then lunged towards his brother. 

“Aemond!” Alicent yelled in protest. 

“Aemond,” you murmured, a weak attempt to dissuade him, your heart not truly in it as you protested along with her. 

You took another step back, your body still weak from giving birth, not having any interest in getting involved in a physical fight, and watched as your husband punched his brother in the face to defend your honor. 

He looked like an avenging angel, you thought, as his white hair flew around, his upper lip curled into a snarl, and the look in his eye promised pain. 

You wondered at it, the smooth grace with which he attacked, it caused your heart to pound, and you knew it was not from fear. 

He really only got two good hits in before the King’s Guards intervened and pulled him away. But it was glorious to behold. 

His assault was so quick and vicious, Aegon didn’t even have a chance to fight back. 

Alicent was distraught, but Heleana sidled up beside you and gave you a small smile which you returned. 

The fact of the matter was, you were incredibly turned on. Uncomfortably turned on as you watched Aemond be violent to defend your honor. 

You were ready to drag him to your rooms and make another baby, but then your aching body reminded you that you were in no shape to do any such thing. 

Aemond yanked himself out of the grip of one of the guards and strode to you. 

He tilted your face up with a finger beneath your chin so your gaze would meet his own that was filled with fire. And smirked at the desire in your eyes. 

He pressed a brief but firm kiss to your wanting lips, you heard Aegon yelling something but ignored him completely. 

You slipped your hand into Aemond’s, his knuckles a little bloody, and tugged on him slightly, leading him out and away from the chaos. 

As you exited the room you gripped his tunic, and he backed you against the wall. 

He placed his hands against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in, and with the heat - the fire - between the two of you, there was nothing you could do but rise up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his. 

And these past weeks with your daughter, the nine months before that as you carried her, had been amazing, one of the most joyful experiences of your life. But, you were not only her mother, you were also Aemond’s wife. 

And he reminded you of that, reminded you that you are his wife and he desires you, as he kissed you back, kissed you hard, kissed you in a way that made your toes curl. 

This was not the sweet, short, gentle way he had kissed you since she was born, no. This was your dragon filling you with his fire again. 

His lips moved against yours, opening you up so his tongue could sweep against your own. 

His hand left the wall to grip your waist, and self consciousness at your changed body flared up, but was soon smothered by his desire as he pushed his body closer to yours, pushed you further against the wall, pressed against him completely. 

He groaned into your mouth and you nipped at his bottom lip in response. Finally, your body sang, like you were shaken awake by the heat. 

You whimpered against his lips, and his tongue danced with yours in response. 

Your body throbbed with desire… and then pain that reminded you that although your spirit felt ready to be joined with your husband in carnal desire again, your body certainly was not. 

You pulled back, your breathing hard, and he smiled softly as he beheld you. His hand grazed up from your waist, slowly and gently, until he cupped your cheek. 

“I can’t-“ you tried to explain, but he shook his head, understanding in his gaze.

“I know,” he murmured. 

He kissed you again, this time gentle and slow, filled with care and affection rather than heat and desire. 

He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” you said sweetly. 

He chuckled and said, “I love you too, little wife. Let’s go hold our daughter before that look in your eyes convinces me to fill you with another.” 

You giggled and took his hand and allowed your prince, your defender, your husband to lead you to your daughter. 

[sailtomarina]

Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere. 

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

 “You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear. 

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?”

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings. 

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.” 

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.” 

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.” 

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

[popjunkie42]

sirens in the beat of your heart (read on AO3)

A humble offering for @nestaarcheronweek 2024! This is for @witch-and-her-witcher who is my fearless beta and takes all my writer whining in stride!

Nesta watched Feyre breathe, watched the tension in her with some queasy feeling. At how quickly tempers still flared between them.

So different from her Valkyrie sisters. They were a unit, complements to each other. Unlike the Archeron sisters, always discordant foils to one another. An ongoing play of hurts and scores and changing allegiances that tore at them all.

The specter that was between them: sleeping but still present, of jealousy. Of hunger. Of two skinny, vicious girls scrabbling for whatever was left on the table. Teaching themselves not to need love from the inhospitable desert that was their family.

Feyre took deep breaths until her muscles relaxed, just a little.

Or: Nesta and Feyre try out a bit of their new relationship post-ACOSF.

Behind the cut or Read on AO3.

It wasn’t the dull, constant thud of knives in wood that drove Nesta to the roof.

The truth was she couldn’t sleep, feeling a restlessness inside of her that had her lacing up her boots and leaving Cassian alone, sprawled out on their oversized bed.

The House of Wind was silent at night, except for the wind that sometimes howled outside, the cold stone air smelling crisp and mingling with the ash of dead fires from the evening. Nesta moved quietly, reluctant to break the stillness, heading towards the roof for a breath of fresh air.

At the first noise she had tensed, reaching for a knife that wasn’t at her side, but quickly relaxed when she saw the familiar lazy braid of her sister.

The night sky hung over the training ring like a dome, the jeweled stars of the Night Court sparkling overhead. It was a cold night, for spring, and a chill wind whipped across the stone, masking her footsteps.

Feyre was in leathers that looked a size too tight, thrown on hastily. Her youngest sister was never one to shy away from the casual or practical but tonight she looked…disheveled. Light hairs were whipping out of her braid, a halo of fine, frizzy hair framing her forehead and temples. Her boots were thrown on without being laced. She stumbled in them as she leaned forward for a throw.

There was also the fact that she was flinging knives, alone, at almost three in the morning. At someone else’s house.

Only one knife was lodged in the painted wood target, others littered around it. As Feyre released another blade, the wind kicked up and blew the dagger wide.

“Shit,” she muttered into the night.

“Your stance is crooked,” Nesta observed, walking up behind her before she could grab another blade.

Her sister gasped a little and whirled around, revealing a blotchy red face, blue eyes puffy with tears.

“Nesta,” she said, sounding guilty. Feyre quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. I just — I didn’t want to wake anyone at home and I thought it would be quieter —”

“You didn’t wake me. What’s wrong?” Nesta’s mind ran through the options — she wouldn’t be here if something happened to Nyx, and to be alone— “What did he do?” she asked, ready to draw blood.

Feyre laughed in exasperation, sniffling. “Rhys didn’t do anything. I’m fine.”

She turned away, and another knife flew through the air, silent and fast, missing the target by an inch and clattering on the ground amidst a dozen other failed attempts.

“You need to loosen your shoulders.”

“Thanks.” Her voice was clipped, her back stiff. Nesta wondered if she had been hoping for Cassian to be the one to find her. “Do you want me to leave? You can use the ring or whatever you came to do.”

Another knife thudded against the wood, hitting the target but failing to find purchase. Feyre avoided Nesta’s eyes. She swallowed, sorting through the maze of Feyre’s emotions.

If her little sister thought she could hide her avoidance, or if Nesta wouldn’t rise to uncomfortable confrontation, she was sorely mistaken.

“Feyre,” Nesta demanded. That unsettled feeling was only growing, as Feyre’s magic seemed to crackle and hum in front of her. Like her emotions were a storm about to spill out of her body. Nesta hadn’t woken up tonight prepared to deal with this emotional powderkeg.

The way Feyre’s eyes grew cold, like she retreated in on herself, and the stubborn jut of her chin made her look so young. This was the Feyre she was used to tearing apart over a worn dining table — raw with anger and a little self righteousness, fear and cruelty simmering just underneath.

Someone she hadn’t seen in a while, under Feyre the Cursebreaker, under the High Lady.

“I was just stressed, all right? I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you came here to lose all our knives?”

Feyre went stiff.

Her own wisps of wind cast out and gathered the knives, scraping over the stone and into a gently swirling cloud she brought back to the small table beside her. “Maybe I just wanted to throw things. Maybe I don’t care if they hit or not.”

Nesta didn’t know what to say. So she grabbed a knife and stepped up to her sister.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Maybe she could call Cassian. Her stomach sank a bit at the thought, the guilt. Maybe Cassian would be better at this, maybe he wouldn’t fumble and stomp his way through Feyre’s mess of emotions.

Thunk. The tip of Nesta’s knife buried into a bullseye.

Feyre huffed.

This time when her sister stood she anchored her back foot, setting the other in front, bouncing her wrist to feel the weight in her hand.

She pulled back her arm, stepped forward and they both watched as the knife went short, skidding loudly across the stone.

“Your stance is too tight. You need to loosen up your back a little, let your arm go.”

Feyre grunted, her lip curling up in a little angry sneer.

“Hey. Look at me.”

The eyes that met hers were like a beast in the forest.

There was her feral little sister. For a while now she had been the cool High Lady, the head of her house, the responsible sister. To see her old anger flare up again startled Nesta.

They were both far too powerful now to let it get the better of them.

“Take a deep breath. Just like me. And hold. Ready?” Nesta exaggerated the swell of her lungs, the lift of her shoulders. Cold night air filled her chest and she felt her feet ground into the stone, like she was an extension of the mountain.

Feyre fought her at first. She had to close her eyes to take in the deep breaths and let go.

“Let your thoughts come to you, whatever’s on your mind. Just let them fill you and then pass through. Keep breathing.”

Nesta watched Feyre breathe, watched the tension in her with some queasy feeling. At how quickly tempers still flared between them.

So different from her Valkyrie sisters. They were a unit, complements to each other. Unlike the Archeron sisters, always discordant foils to one another. An ongoing play of hurts and scores and changing allegiances that tore at them all.

The specter that was between them: sleeping but still present, of jealousy. Of hunger. Of two skinny, vicious girls scrabbling for whatever was left on the table. Teaching themselves not to need love from the inhospitable desert that was their family.

Feyre took deep breaths until her muscles relaxed, just a little.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help,” she finally said.

Nesta’s voice was as cold as ice. “I think maybe we spent so long fighting over scraps, and now it’s hard to remember —”

“That there’s enough?”

Nesta nodded.

It was hard to put into words. She was still getting used to the endless affection that poured from her mate, how she could ask for things and be given them without a thought, without a cost.

Even though a new peace lay between her and Feyre, the old scars were human, and wouldn’t heal so easily.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

Feyre sighed again, her eyes focusing on the shining knives in front of her.

“Nyx finally went down and I was trying to fall asleep, but I remembered this fae a few weeks ago who came to petition — she and her family needed help with their farmland since their father died unexpectedly. And I told them we would send assistance — and then I just — forgot.” She swallowed thickly.

“I got up and was at my office trying to find the notes, and Rhys tried to send me back to bed, like he isn’t up working late into the night most days. Like the weight on me isn’t the same as his,” she played with a knife, pricking her fingertips on the tip of the blade idly.

“Then Nyx started crying, and it was like my whole body seized up. It was weird. It was like…my body didn’t belong to me.” Feyre shook her head, looking pale. “I just thought about that family, waiting every day for help, waking up every morning thinking ‘this will be the day.’ And I just…forgot.”

For a moment, something vicious slithered inside Nesta’s gut: a preening, satisfied feeling. At perfect Feyre, finally stumbling for once.

No. Nesta breathed through the thought, watching her sister’s tight face. Checked frantically that her shields were up.

That was an old way of thinking. When she thought they were competing. Let the thought pass through you. Feel it and let it go.

Nesta shifted on her feet. This was her terrain, her familiar training grounds. How would Feyre fit in this space?

She tried to shift the way she saw her sister. How would Cassian, or Azriel, size up a new recruit? What would Nesta feel towards her if she was a new priestess, walking nervously through that door?

How had she felt when she saw Gwyn pass that threshold for the first time, scared and seeking strength? Why was her sister any different?

“I might not be able to give any High Lady advice. But why don’t you pick up a sword? Let your body work it out.”

Feyre shook her head, her arms wrapping around her stomach. “I haven’t trained in months. And — I feel different. My body feels different. Even with everything healed I just feel…changed.”

“We can start at the beginning. I won’t go too hard on you.” Nesta cocked her head, unsure of what to make of the writhing mass of Feyre’s emotions.

“I don’t want this. I don’t want to —” Feyre paused, looking away, unable to meet Nesta’s eyes. “I don’t want some competition to see who’s the better fighter. You can be the warrior now. I don’t want it. Maybe I never did.”

Nesta swallowed. Thought about the emptiness that came when she first spilled blood –

She let the thought pass through. Focused back on Feyre, circling her slowly, watching the way she was tracked with her sister’s eyes, how her body turned instinctively to keep Nesta in her sights.

Not a fighter, she said.

This one needed an anchor. A goal. Something outside of her own panic to hold to, to pull herself up.

“Koschei is coming.”

Her words were casual. As if he were arriving tomorrow for tea.

Feyre’s face hardened. “Yes.”

“And are you ready to face him? Ready to protect your family?”

“Nesta…”

“Are you?”

Silver lined Feyre’s eyes. Nesta felt her heart crack. But she stayed still.

“No.” It was a whisper in the wind.

She watched as Feyre worked through it, the seizing fear, the desperation, the stubborn Archeron resolve to face it.

Mother knew there was nothing Nesta wanted more than her life here, small but full, with Cassian in her bed and next to her in the training ring, with her friends nearby and her work. Growing every day, luxuriating in love and happiness and sore muscles like it was a warm bath.

But Rhysand had shared Cassian’s memories with them all, of a frozen lake, of a chill wind that promised death and malice. Of even Cassian’s quaking fear.

“Then we’ll get there. I’ll help you. If you want. Or Cass can or — whoever you want.”

Nesta tried not to feel the worry of rejection. Every swing of the axe, or pull of the bow in lessons between them before had been fraught with sizzling tempers and cold viciousness.

She thought about Gwyn and Emerie, about Roslin and the other priestesses she worked with, encouraged, cheered for everyday. Thought about those emotions like a cloak and tried to see how it would fit around her sister.

“You would train me?” Feyre asked. Nesta tried not to bristle at her surprise, at whatever part of that offer caught her sister off guard.

“I could show you the Valkyrie techniques that will work with your Illyrian training. Sometimes these days, I’m the one teaching Cassian things.”

Feyre gave a watery grin. “I’m glad. Someone needs to check that Illyrian arrogance.”

“Maybe that’s why we’re mates. The Mother knew they all needed to be put in their place.”

A blade turned slowly in her sister’s hand. “You’re the Oristian.” A small, wistful smile came over her face. “I wish I could’ve been there when Devlon and the camp lords found out.”

Nesta’s smile was cold. “They don’t know what they’ve unleashed.”

“I’m proud of you,” Feyre said, her voice a choked whisper, Nesta's eyes going wide. “Not that — I know you don’t need —”

“Feyre.” At her tone, her sister stopped babbling. “That’s —” Nesta took a deep breath, letting all the discomfort and swaying emotions from her sister settle and pass through. Whatever anger or resentment she might have from before had washed away when she smelled the blood in that birthing room, when she had to beg for her baby sister’s life from the Mother herself. “Thank you. It was really hard, for a long time. But I’m happy. I’m happy here.”

Her sister’s chin wobbled and her face crumpled just before she buried it in her hands.

Breathe. In and out.

Nesta thought about her Valkyrie sisters. How sharing their heavy stories had made them feel lighter. How they looked into each other’s souls and didn’t turn away.

“Feyre. It’s ok.” Nesta rested her hand on Feyre’s arm, feeling her body shake with sobs under her palm.

At her touch, Feyre fell forward, burying her face in Nesta’s shoulder, covering her leathers with tears.

Nesta stiffened, unused to her sister’s touch.

Hating how she felt like her mother.

How would she want her mother to hold her? How would they all hold Nyx from this day forward —-- without reservation?

You can do this.

She could do it —-- accept love, and give it too. It would be hard but —-- she reached out her hand, pulling Feyre closer, rubbing her back gently, breathing through her discomfort and trying to bring down those walls.

When Feyre had tired herself, she stepped back, looking somewhat ridiculous with a swollen nose but with a new lightness in her eyes.

“I thought — I worried — you and Elain might never be happy here.” Nesta thought of her library and her friends there, of Cassian’s scent, and his stupidly handsome face. Happy.

The moment sat quietly between them, Feyre’s fears and the miles they’d traveled unraveling.

“I’m sorry I’m falling apart,” her brow furrowed in frustration. “I had Nyx and everything makes me cry now. Yesterday I stepped on a worm in Elain’s garden and Rhys raced home from the Governor’s council because he thought I was dying.”

Nesta’s lip curled. “I think Nyx has the power to turn all of us soft.”

“Do you ever look at him, and —” Feyre stopped short, like the words died in her mouth.

“What?”

“Sometimes I look at Nyx, and I think…I hate them. Mother. And…father. Sometimes.”

Nesta stayed still. Like the admonition would have her sister bolting at any wrong move. “I think I know what you mean.”

Feyre nodded. “I love him so much. And how could they have seen us so young and still do what they did? How could they have let themselves look away? It seems impossible. And then I worry: what if there’s some secret terrible thing that will happen that will make me feel the same way someday?”

“You will be a thousand times a better mother than our parents ever were to us. There’s no way you could ever be like them, Feyre. It’s impossible.”

“But —”

“Feyre. You’re a good mother already.” Feyre’s chin wobbled again. “And if you do slip up, I’m sure your sisters will let you know about it.”

Feyre took a deep breath, in and out through her nose. “You promise?”

“Try and stop us.”

A smile was on her sister’s face.

Nesta grabbed a throwing knife, the metal warming in her hand.

“Ok, do ten shoulder rolls, then we’re working on your stance.”

The yellow-pink fingers of dawn were pulling at the horizon by the time Feyre’s boots were tied, her muscles stretched. It wasn’t enough to warm them, yet, but the light shone on something brighter in Feyre’s face. Nesta reveled in the new feeling of being the cause of it.

She turned to her new recruit.

“Are you ready?”

[myobsessionsspace]

Hello!!!

It's great that you're open to Jikook questions 😊

There's something that's been hunting me since I first saw it.

What's your interpretation of Jimin's reaction during the Vminkook live in Dec 2021- I'm referring specifically to Jimin's reaction after V said he was going to release a song with Jungkook? His reaction was super interesting, and so was Jungkook's.

We now know that V was playing around, and his statement wasn't true. Nevertheless, I think it caught Jimin by surprise, and my take is that he was a tiny bit jealous 😅 bless Jungkook, I think he was in a little bit of trouble there 🫣

Youtube link here:

https://youtu.be/5ufxVvjNbL4?si=UCbXNJxUfkz0c7i6

The moment I'm talking about starts around minute 45:00.

Thanks 💜

Hi Lovely!

This is a great ask, it’s something I’ve had convos with my friends about before! I’ve always found it highly entertaining when any variation of vminkook are together and get into skit mode or when Tae & Jungkook tease Jimin just to get him to go into super cute mode!

It’s what they do and have been doing for years.

This live was so chaotic VMinKook style from the jump. If anyone hasn’t watched it please do **everyone please watch original content**

It was chaotic because it was initially Tae’s solo live but he said how nervous he felt doing it alone and asked for staff to get Jungkook to join him.

NB: all image are gifs unless stated otherwise, please watch as they are there to support statements made. Original links to lives are at the end 💜

Jimin then came as he heard Tae needed company and Jimin had been with Jungkook. Jungkook eventually joined later.

Due to nerves on Tae’s part and it being an unplanned live that Jimin & Jungkook didn’t intend to be having there were many times where they didn’t know what to do or the purpose of the live and would defer to Tae for direction. Tae had a running skit with Jimin about being the host of a show (the vlive) and Jimin and later Jungkook being his guests.

Not a gif. Still picture

They also had funny moments where Tae would name drop different brands (this was funny as the group had contractual obligations with brands and they know in their profession they can’t name drop brands without consequence).

TMIs, games and more skits.

credit: onlyluvkpop. Some of the fun and teasing they were having

As I said the live was fun, chaotic but also at times stilted due to its unplanned nature of it becoming a trio live and nerves.

There was a point where Tae whilst trying to engage Jungkook tried (in my opinion) to run a joke with JK on army? I’m thinking he was hoping Jungkook and Jimin would catch onto it with him?

But cutie Minie Jagi was losssstttt 😭

Jimin’s face in the live side by side with confused Jimin face from post Hobipalooza live

VMinkook love their role playing and teasing and even if Jimin hadn’t caught on, I do think nothing was done to intentionally exclude any of the three. All three tease each other in different combinations

So no, not jealousy in my opinion, Jimin has absolutely nothing to be jealous about. But confused and slightly lost, as to if it was another skit or really work related that he didn’t know about.

Maybe a tad annoyed with it being live and no hints that he was catching on to, to work with, giving a look to Jungkook like ‘are you guys serious? Why aren’t you giving me a hint on the joke’ or ‘why am I hearing about a song for the first time in a live? You guys aren’t making sense’ and Jungkook’s kinda like ‘I’m as lost as you are’ or ‘what did I do? I’m just going along too!’

Maybe he was probably also thinking to himself when did Jungkook have a chance in between eating chicken together, working out together, Jungkook coming to his room all the time?? 😂

Not a gif. Still picture

Also Tae literally talked about a Christmas song earlier on in the live when it was just Jimin and Tae

Normally though, when V & JK are teasing Jimin, he knows it, and loves it 😂

But Minie was lost that time and he told us so

Tae & JK sometimes find a lost Jiminie, to be a cute Jiminie

Original Source: Weverse

Ultimately (in my opinion) Tae was mixing some facts together, which had JK quicker to the draw in playing along, but JK too was also confused at the beginning of their skit. When Jungkook caught on, he too teased Tae a bit and tried to get an expensive gift promise from Tae

Reached my media limit so ss the transcript instead, but like always, please watch the original lives for yourself

I’m assuming that the two had been vibing together and having fun making little play songs and singing, which is why JK said “what is it?” And “How can we release that?”

Tae did have a Christmas song in the works, just not with JK.

But for anyone that wanted a Christmas song from Jungkook, that’s ok, don't worry, him and Jimin have already done one together!

Not a gif. Still picture from Dynamite Christmas remix MV

Original source: BANGTANTV

I really appreciate your ask @irmi3454, I had fun!

💜

Original Weverse Links for Live

Live Part 1

Live Part 2

Live Part 3

[dark-mnjiro]

speaking in tongues ::: .02.

Author’s Note: hello everyone. I apologize for such a long wait. Personal things (as some of you may know) have had to take priority like my health. I had to put a lot of projects on hold. I do hope you enjoy part two. I attempted to make it a bit longer than the others that I’ve put out to make up for it. 🥰 as usual, please refer to the masterlist for a general list of content warning for this fic, and I will post part specific below.

Content Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, dubcon, dub/noncon touching, fingering, groping, invasion of privacy, violence, mentions of trauma/sexual abuse/physical abuse, bratty!cashmere, cat and mouse games, gaslighting, emotional manipulation… fun stuff.

part two

i’m standing here until you make me move

Snapping his fingers, a golden portal appeared behind Adam before he stepped through it still carrying Cashmere. She took her fists, pounding his back, demanding still to be put down. Adam only seemed to offer a mocking reply by raising his voice an octave and mimicking her comments. This only seemed to enrage Cashmere more as she began kicking her legs and intensifying her hits to his back.

“Fucking hell!” he snapped at her.

“Satan in Hell,” she snapped. “Put me DOWN!”

Adam tossed her onto the couch. He pulled off his mask, throwing it to the floor before walking away from her. “Don’t fucking say I didn’t do anything for you,” he complained, loudly as he walked into the other room.

Cashmere sighed, moving her fingers through her hair. She looked around… Where was she? It looked like a fairly average apartment that any living person would have, but not one in Hell. A loud slurp disrupted her thoughts as she turned to look at Adam, standing in the entryway with a drink in hand… drinking loudly.

“Where are we?”

Adam pulled the straw from his lips before leaning against the wall. “My place.”

“In Heaven?”

“Fuck no,” Adam scoffed. “I wouldn’t bring demonic scum like you to that paradise.”

Rolling her eyes, Cashmere pushed up from the couch to sit up. “You have an apartment in Hell?”

“Embassy,” he corrected. “It’s my temporary place.”

“So why here?”

Sighing, he set the drink in his hand down on the table in front of the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you enjoy getting assaulted?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What?” he snapped, annoyance crossing his expression. “You sure seemed to like trying to fight a man three times your size who was trying to grope on you.”

“Satan help me,” she groaned. “How long were you there? You saw all that?!”

“I told you,” he replied as his voice went flat. “Long enough.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh of frustration. She stood up from the couch and decided that she would just leave before she was caught in another argument with this man…angel? Whatever. She tried to move past him before his arm shot out and stopped her from passing him.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Fuck you,” she said, shoving his arm down.

“You got a filthy, fucking mouth on you,” he sneered.

“Fuck. You.”

She managed to push past him but didn’t make it far before Adam snatched her by her hair and tugged her back. She yelped as tears burned at the corner of her eyes.

“Do I have your attention now?”

He was uncomfortably close to her now as his breath brushed against her ear. She tried moving away but he only tugged harder causing her scalp to burn.

“Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”

Her face fell. “…yes.”

He tugged on her hair again, causing her to wince. “I don’t believe you,” he hissed into her ear. His free hand slipped to grasp her waistline before forcefully guiding her toward the wall of his apartment. The grip tightened as he pressed his chest against her back, forcing her chest to push against the wall. Cashmere turned her head to the side, catching a glimpse of Adam smirking from behind her. “I’ll ask again,” he whispered. “Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”

She wasn’t sure what he was asking as a response. Her eyes darted away toward the white wall. Anything to avoid his gaze at this point. Anxiety began filling her chest, wondering just what she could do in this instance, against an Angel? Nothing. He could kill her easily if he truly wanted to… and permanently. It was a well-known fact that Angelic steel could permanently rid Hell of any sinner.

Adam’s other hand finally let go of her hair, but it joined his other hand gripping her waist. He used his size alone to pin her against the wall now. She was stuck. Squirming, she attempted to slither her way out from him and the wall, but it only seemed to cause him to tighten his grip.

“I want to hear you say it.”

She scoffed. “Say what?”

“That you’re going to be a good girl and listen.”

Cashmere cursed under her breath before scowling at Adam. “I’m not indulging in your sick fantasy.”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me,” he teased. “So don’t flatter yourself.”

Offense flashed over her eyes almost as if she took what he said as a challenge. Couldn’t handle him? Was he joking? She glanced at him over her shoulder, shooting a deadly glare at the sick smirk he wore on his face. His golden eyes were still fixed on her as he moved impossibly close.

“Say it.”

“...no.”

Chuckling, Adam’s hands moved further down before squeezing her hips. “All you women are the same,” he commented. “Fucking little, bratty teases.”

“I-” she paused. “I’m not teasing.”

Remaining silent, Adam’s hands slipped past the edge of her skirt before toying with the fabric. Her breath quickened as his fingertips brushed against her bare thighs. Goosebumps spread across her skin before Adam chuckled. His fingertips moved up her thigh, slipping under her skirt.

“L-let go,” she hissed, trying to squirm away.

“No.”

She didn’t understand what his end goal was. He couldn’t possibly want such a filthy sinner. Not after all the insults he seemed to hurl her way. His hands brushed against her panties as they slipped under the elastic. Excitement blossomed in her chest and she hated her body for practically begging to be touched.

His hands slipped her underwear about midway down her legs. “Tell me you want it,” he whispered as his left moved between her legs and brushed his knee against her bare core.

A strangled gasp moved past her lips. Her mind went fuzzy. “But,” she whispered. “I’m a sinner.”

“I’m already in Heaven,” Adam snorted. “I can fuck whatever pussy I want.”

Satan’s left tit, he was going to go through with this… Cashmere felt another jolt of excitement shudder throughout her body, cursing herself for almost enjoying this… almost.

“Let's see,” he whispered, his lips against her ear. “What gets you going…”

One hand slipped between her legs as the other moved up to grope her breast. He pinched her clit between his fingers causing her to gasp again. He slowly slipped two fingers against her dripping core, making sure both fingers were coated in her juices.

She squirmed at his touch as soft pants left her lips. Her voice stuttered, “A-Adam…”

He hummed in response before plunging his two coated fingers into her. Her body tensed for a moment before adjusting quickly. He nipped at her ear as he curled her fingers against her, forcing her to clench. A gasp left her lips, bracing herself against the wall.

The rough pads of his fingers probably formed from years of playing guitar only gave way to delicious friction as she felt her juices slip down her legs. Her body squirmed as her legs clenched.

Adam tutted. “Nah uh,” he teased, using his knee to keep her legs apart.

His pace intensified.

“A-Adam,” she managed to say between breathy pants.

His tone mocked her voice as he increased his pace. The coil in her gut was winding tighter as she felt the palm of his hand press against her clit, causing her to moan again. Wetness pooled in his palm before his fingers were scissored inside of her.

“You wanna cum?” he whispered into her ear.

He suddenly slowed to a tormenting pace. “Adam please.”

“Use your words.”

She wanted to glare at him but her body wouldn’t allow her to move before tried to move her hips against his hand. His free hand managed to find its way back to her hair and yanked her head back. A pained yelp left her lips but she stilled her movements.

“Please,” she managed to get out in a desperate tone. “…please let me cum, Adam…

An audible groan left his lips before the pace of his fingers became unrelenting. Cries of his name tumbled from her lips as her legs began quaking. How such a Holy man’s touch could be so sinful, Cashmere could not understand.

She cried out his name one last time before pleasure electrified her skin and spread throughout her body. Her legs shook again, losing their strength so Adam had to keep her on her feet. He slowly removed his fingers before she felt her juices dripping down her legs.

He chuckled before taking his two fingers and forcing them into her mouth. “Be a good girl,” he teased. “And clean the mess you made.”

For a brief moment, Cashmere sputtered, struggling for air before quickly adjusting. Her tongue circled his fingers, tasting herself on them. A soft moan managed past her lips before he removed his fingers.

Adam pulled away, letting her stumble a bit but managed to steady herself against the wall.

Quickly, Cashmere pulled up her underwear and readjusted her skirt. Words failed her. Her eyes darted up to him before falling back to the floor. What could she say? It’s not like anyone would believe this happened. “…I should go home.”

Confusion filled his golden hues. “What the fuck? Why?”

“…this never should’ve happened.”

“Are you saying you didn’t want it now because you sure changed your mind fast—”

She closed her eyes in frustration. “You’re an Angel, Adam.”

“…so what? I can fuck whoever I want,” he said.

“I’m a demon, you idiot.”

“I’m not following,” Adam countered. “What part of I fuck whoever I want, don’t you understand?”

Cashmere stared at the Angel in front of her with her mouth agape. Was he serious?

“I-I’m going home.”

He seemed to back down before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Just fucking wait a second,” he said quickly. He took a few steps away from her before raking his fingers through his hair again. “Just stay here. Until you’ve sobered up.”

Confusion filled her face.

“You need to sober up,” he said, shooting a glare in her direction. “Some fucking freak could take advantage-”

“What the fuck do you think you just did?!”

“You didn’t fucking say no,” he snapped back. “You’re just pissed that you fucking enjoyed it.”

Her mouth shut.

He was right.

As disgusting as he was, she hated to admit that she had enjoyed that…

“…where should I stay?”

Adam sighed again before turning and motioning her to follow him. She followed him into a bedroom… it was clear it was his bedroom. Her eyes fell to the floor before Adam tossed a shirt to her. She glared at him briefly before noticing it was a band shirt.

“Wear that. Sleep here. Leave me the fuck alone,” he said before turning to head back into the living room.

Sighing, she waited for Adam to leave before shutting the door and stripping off her clothes. She slipped on the band tee that managed to cover just above her knees. Grimacing, she inspected the bedroom. It was clear he was a bachelor with how messy he was and the trash just strewn about. Sighing, she climbed into the bed and quickly shut the light off.

“Goodnight,” she mumbled mostly to herself.

The screams from the street managed to jar Cashmere awake as she sat up in bed and grimaced. Perhaps she had too much to drink and snort last night. Her head was practically spinning now. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around trying to remember where she was…

“Oh fuck.”

That’s right, Adam had snatched her up and brought her here the night before.

Her fingers pushed the stray strands of hair from her face, straining her ears for any sound, any movement from outside the bedroom. Snoring. He was still asleep. She forced herself out of the bed grabbing her shoes and her clothes. She would have to make a break for it.

Her hand came to the doorknob, slowly turning it and gently pulling the door open. Her eyes caught a glimpse of Adam still snoring from the couch before sneaking to his front door and silently slipping out of his apartment. A sigh fell from her lips, relieved she escaped without being detected.

“I’m going home.”

She pulled out her cell phone and saw a slew of texts from Cherrybomb and Angeldust. She responded to the group chat that she was fine and heading home and she would explain later.

Cashmere managed to make it to her apartment before reaching into her purse to grab her apartment key. “Home free,” she told herself, sighing with relief as she started opening the door.

“Bitch!”

Her head shot up as she noticed Angeldust rushing toward her. “…oh no.”

“Where the fuck did you go!”

“Angel - it’s fine I’m just going to go change,” she said, walking into her apartment but he managed to sneak his way past her and into the apartment as well.

He threw himself onto her bed before tilting his head at her. His eyes narrowed before the corner of his lips curled upward.

“Angel…”

“…who was it! Spill it!”

Groaning, she threw her clothes and purse to the floor. “Whatever you’re thinking it’s not true.”

Angeldust scoffed before sitting up on her bed. “That’s not your shirt, babe.”

A lump formed in her throat. Fuck.

“…it was nothing,” she hissed.

“You ran off with some fucker. Him?”

Glaring, she crossed her arms. “I fucking hate how observant you are.”

He shrugged. “A gift! Now tell me.”

“We didn’t fuck. Just screwed around a little,” she replied, shaking her head. “It should’ve never happened. It was a mistake. I was too high to go home so he let me crash. I left before he woke up.”

He looked unimpressed. “That bad?”

“Sure,” she was too frustrated to continue this conversation.

“Whatever you say~”

Rolling her eyes, Cashmere made her way into the bathroom and stripped off Adam’s band t-shirt. She inspected her reflection in the mirror before cutting on the water in the sink and splashing her face with cold water.

A nightmare.

This was just a nightmare.

Her phone began buzzing. A groan left her lips before she snatched up the phone, assuming it was either Cherrybomb calling to tease her or even worse - Valentino to demand she come into the strip club.

“Yeah?”

“Morning to you too, doll face.”

Her face paled.

“How the fuck did you get my number?!”

Adam snorted on the other line. “You’re the stupid ass that left her phone out and unlocked.”

“You went through my phone?!”

“Nice nudes in there by the way.”

How could she even begin to form a response to that? She pinched the bridge of her nose before taking a deep breath to calm her growing irritation.

“I’m not even responding-what do you want, asshole!”

“You fucking left.”

Was this serious? “Of course, I left,” she said, confused. “What were we going to do? Cuddle?”

He scoffed. “I want you to know I was being nice by letting you crash with me after you got fucking high as fuck,” he countered. “And you just leave? No fucking thank you? Nothing!”

This was serious.

Cashmere rubbed her eyes. “Being nice? That’s the bare minimum!”

“You were a fucking cock tease!”

“Tease?!”

“You were fucking putty in my hands,” he hissed. “Couldn’t even return the favor. A fucking tease.”

She couldn’t find her words. The tone of his voice was similar to the night before and sent shivers down her spine. She cursed under her breath. Was this reality?

“Where the fuck did you go?”

A sigh fell from her lips as she tried to center herself. How someone could be this dense, she had no idea… Clicking her tongue, she glanced at her bathroom door and made sure to lower her voice. She could not afford Angeldust finding out she had an Angel on the phone, and not just any Angel - Adam.

“I went home.”

“You didn’t even wake me up.”

“What the fuck were we going to do? Cuddle? Christ, Adam.”

He scoffed on the other line. “Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I can’t do this right now,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I’m taking my shower.”

“Fucking fine,” he said. “Just come to the embassy when you’re done.”

She hung up on him.

She could not handle his bullshit now.

Her phone lit up with a text that said: did you just fucking hang up on me?

Choosing to ignore it, Cashmere turned her attention toward her shower, cutting on the water and making sure the temperature was as hot as she could stand. She slipped off the rest of her clothes before letting her hair down. Stepping in the shower, she let out another breath before stepping under the hot stream of water.

She let the water slip over her head and down her body. The heat offered some relief to her tense muscles. How the fuck had she ended up in this situation? Her fingers raked through her wet hair.

Did she even want to go back to the embassy and face him?

It wasn’t as if she had a choice. He had paid off Valentino, who believed this was some prostitution setup - no questions asked. The entire situation was beginning to weigh on Cashmere as she couldn’t be honest with her two closest friends.

And now?

Now, Adam had managed to worm his way into her pants, or at the very least his fingers between her legs.

Disgust filled her gut. Was she that desperate? Did she make it that easy for him?

She recalled her life when she was alive. While she could not remember everything now that she was dead, she could recall flashes and small glimpses into why she was such a disaster.

Prostitution had kept her off the streets, but at what cost?

She had disgraced her family, despite leaving and joining the profession for the sake of their survival. She had been battered, beaten, and bruised throughout her career by not only “customers” but by police and even other prostitutes.

Over the years, it hardened her. Numbed her.

“Cashmere?”

It was Angeldust, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” She called out over the sound of the shower.

“You good?”

Pausing, her eyes fell to the drain. Was she?

“I’m fine!”

Straining her ears, she heard Angeldust retreat from the door as she slowly cut off the water. Snatching the towel from the rack, she wrapped the plush fabric around her body.

Her phone screen lit up again.

Another message… from Adam.

A sigh fell from her lips before scanning the text. “You can’t fucking ignore me forever?” She scoffed and turned off her phone in response. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

Walking into the embassy, Cashmere finally decided to turn her phone back on. She awoke to several messages to log her up on her phone from the night before - and she was right. A flood of messages from Adam filled her phone, a weird mixture of gaslighting and compliments and a sprinkle of disgust was an ongoing theme in each message.

She mumbled “idiot” under her breath before she reached his office and raised a hand to knock. But the door swung open.

She halfway expected him as she opened her mouth with a quip but quickly her eyes went wide as a fellow dancer left, adjusting her clothes. Cashmere stepped to the side observing before walking inside.

He was sitting in his chair as she shut the door. With her back turned, she felt his golden eyes on her - as if trying to burn a home through her.

A game… she suspected.

“…aren’t you supposed to be keeping a low profile?”

“I told you,” he said, loudly. “I do whatever the fuck I want.”

She stepped into the office and shut the door before finally turning to look at him. He was adjusting his clothes and she could only imagine what had taken place just moments before she knocked. She studied his expression for a brief second before noting the smirking just barely ghosting over his lips.

He was playing a game.

She took a seat and kept her expression even.

“So what now?”

His golden hues narrowed at her blase response. “What now?”

Cashmere nodded. “What are we doing now?”

“Don’t you wanna know who that was?”

“Not really,” she said, shrugging. “I know enough about her from the club to know that you may want to get checked afterward-”

“Don’t be a fucking smart ass.”

Cashmere merely shrugged in response, noting the annoyance in his voice was growing. If he wanted to play this type of game with her, she would make him learn that she was ten times better at it.

“So I’ll ask again,” she continued. “What are we doing now?”

Adam slumped into his chair. His eyes scanned over his paperwork before glancing back at her. “She was boring,” he commented, offhandedly. “Talked too much.”

Her gaze cut to him. “Okay?”

“Okay?” he repeated as his brows fell into a scowl. “That’s all you have to fucking say?!”

Cashmere tilted her head to the side.

“You are so fucking infuriating!”

She glanced down at her nails, inspecting the color carefully. “Sucks when people play mind games, doesn’t it?”

His fists slammed against the table, catching her attention briefly.

“Are you seriously going to sit there and throw a tantrum when you snooped through my phone and thought bringing a coworker here would upset me? I’m not an idiot,” she said, raking her finger through his hair. “This entire trip is just an excuse for you to torment a sinner here and try to get your scrawny dick wet.”

Adam fell silent as his eyes narrowed.

Cashmere sat back in her seat. “Play stupid games,” she said. “Win stupid prizes.”

His fists tightened. His knuckles turned white.

Satisfaction was evident on her face, knowing that she had pegged him exactly for what he was trying to do. “Now if you’re done being an insufferable wannabe rockstar,” she continued, turning her attention back to inspecting her nails. “We can work on what you were sent here to do.”

Adam opened his mouth to speak.

Cashmere reached across the table and snatched one of the pieces of paper scattered about. She wanted to look over the notes that he had supposedly taken during their last meet-up, but when she looked upon the paper…

“Are you fucking joking?”

Adam scowled again at her. “What?!”

“This is fucking stick figures fucking!”

He looked away from her.

“You didn’t even take notes?!”

Adam scoffed. “I have a brilliant memory. I don’t need notes. All I have to say is bitches like you deserve to be sinners-”

“Aren’t you supposed to understand why!?”

“Does it even matter?”

Cashmere balled her fists. “You know what,” she said, huffing. “It doesn’t to me. But won’t it get you into trouble up there?”

“I’m the original dick,” he snapped. “I’ll never get into trouble.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to as her expression slipped into a judgemental stare.

“I don’t have to fucking answer to the likes of you,” he scowled. “Don’t you fucking judge me!”

“Men are always so sensitive,” she added, sighing.

His golden hues narrowed once again.

“What?” she questioned, leaning back in her chair. When she received no response, she let out a frustrated sigh. “If you’re an example of the angels in Heaven… I would rather be thrown into Hellfire. I’ve dealt with enough misogynist, pig men while I was alive to serve me an entire lifetime of suffering.”

She hadn’t noticed Adam standing up from his desk and slowly making his way toward her. As she continued to rant about pig men, Adam stood behind her chair before quickly grabbing her by the back of the throat, lifting her from her chair, and slamming her onto the desk.

A yelp of pain erupted from the sinner as she felt the weight of his body press against her much smaller frame. She squirmed, trying to break him of his grip but the sheer size he had on her alone - he would overpower her.

“Let me go you fuckface-”

His hand left her neck and slid into her hair before gripping her locks tightly. “You’ve been acting like a fucking spoiled brat all day,” he hissed, leaning into her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this… and I’ll disappear.”

Fuck him. Fuck him.

The tone of his voice sent shivers all the way down her spine before causing her thighs to clench together. Her mind drifted back to that moment of weakness in his apartment.

“Fuck you!”

His mocking laughter filled her ears.

“I’m not hearing no.”

“Let me go or I’ll scream!”

“I’d prefer if you did.”

Cashmere glared at him in response.

“Now be a good kitty cat and listen…”

She scowled under her breath. Was he mocking her demonic, lioness form now?

“I’m not a cat-ow!”

He had tugged on her tail earning a yelp. “Lion… tiger… aren’t they all just oversized house cats?” His gloved fingers slid down the length of her tail. “But it seems I’ve found a way to make you listen.” His fingers grasped her tail again and immediately he sensed Cashmere’s body tense.

“Now,” he said gently. “You’re going to show me exactly why you were sent to Hell in the first place.”

“Let go-” she gasped mid sentence as he tugged on her tail.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this,” he scoffed before he let go of her tail and the free hand slipped up her skirt.

Cashmere was quiet for a moment before quickly elbowing him in the gut, sending him into a string of curses. Wincing at him tugging her hair before letting her go, she quickly moved back to her feet.

A mixture and crimson and black glazed over her eyes as her fangs grew longer. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

A hand raked through his shaggy, dark hair before his lips curled into a sneer. His tongue ran along his lower lip. He took a step toward her.

Cashmere hissed at him.

He opened his mouth to respond but Cashmere took her clawed hand and swiped at his face before Adam lunged forward, snatching her wrist. Quickly, she swiped with her opposite hand but Adam stopped her again. Cashmere tugged, trying to break his grip but instead Adam used his size to pin her against the desk again.

His lips curled into a sneer. “Nice try, kitty cat.”

“Fuck you!”

He leaned in closer. “Gladly.”

[saras-almanac]

BuckTommyWeekend Day 1: Alternate First Meeting

Title:  This seat taken?

Fandom:  911 (ABC)

Pairing:  Buck/Tommy

Summary:  Buck and Tommy meet at a restaurant for the first time. For the prompt: Alternate First Meeting for @bucktommyweek

Notes: There’s so many potential first meetings for these two both within canon and outside of it. I’m behind on writing for this weekend so just went with one that’s a bit quicker, but will probably expand on in the future before posting to AO3. (And/or might do more potential first meetings because there’s so many options and not all of them will lead to them actually being together at that specific moment in time, but it’d be fun…)

Buck sat at the bar, pretending to check his phone while he glanced over at where Josh and his date were sitting. Josh was seemingly having a good time, plus his date was pretty cute, so maybe this would be a win for him. Buck hoped so.

“This seat taken?”

Buck startled and looked over and saw a man—a very attractive man—stood next to him, inclining a hand toward the stool next to him.

Buck shook his head. “N-no. It’s all yours. I mean, if you want it.”

The man smiled and sat down. “Thanks. Just need to wait for my order.”

As he sat down, Buck noticed a logo on the side of this man’s jacket, one that looked incredibly familiar as it was on Buck’s own work clothes.

“Woah. Is that an LAFD jacket? Are you a firefighter?” Buck asked excitedly.

The man smiled. “Yeah. Work at Harbor station now though. Mostly flying planes and helicopters rather than running into any burning buildings.”

“That’s so cool. I’ve always thought being able to fly a plane, like pilot one, would feel like you have super powers,” Buck said. “Does it feel like that?”

“I suppose that’s a good way to look at it,” the man said. “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Evan Buckley,” Buck said, reaching out a hand. Tommy shook it, even at the awkward angle since they were sitting so close together. “So when did you learn to fly?”

“A while ago, back when I was in the Army,” Tommy said.

“Have you always been air support for LAFD?” Buck asked.

“No,” Tommy said. “I was on the ground or many years, but just felt like I was missing it. Transferred to Harbor five, six years ago now. I really missed flying so it was a good choice.”

“I bet,” Buck said. “If I could fly, I’d probably never want to be on the ground.”

“Well, I can give you a tour of the place if you’re interested,” Tommy offered kindly. “Show you some of the toys, how things work.”

“That would be awesome,” Buck said. “But I don’t want to trouble you. I mean, you’re just waiting for your food and I’m talking your ear off about work. I-I’m sure the last thing you want to do is talk about your job after just getting off a shift.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Tommy said. “And I could have always ignored you or told you I didn’t want to talk about work if I wanted.”

“I guess,” Buck said. “I forget sometimes that not everyone likes talking about their job.”

“So then I guess I have to ask, what do you do?”

“Oh, um,” Buck rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m a firefighter.”

“No kidding,” Tommy said with a laugh. “Which station?”

“The 118,” Buck said proudly.

“Now you’re fucking with me,” Tommy said. “I transferred to Harbor from the 118.”

“That’s crazy! So you do you know Cap? Captain Bobby Nash?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “He was just getting settled there when I transferred.”

“What about Hen? You’ve got to know Chimney. I think he’s been there since it was built.”

Tommy smiled and his nose crinkled and Buck had never seen anything more adorable in his entire life. “Howie and I go way back, from before he was called Chimney. And Hen, she’s one of the best firefighters I’ve ever worked with.”

“They’re the best,” Buck said. “It’s so crazy that you know them too!”

Buck glanced over at Josh again. He’d be furious with himself if he got distracted by this god-like man sitting next to him when his friend needed him. Still seemed to be going well.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I do have to ask,” Tommy started, “You’re not stalking those men, are you?”

Buck whipped his head over to look at him. “What?”

“It’s just, I saw you watching them when I first got here. And now you’re looking over again. Just checking things are… all right,” Tommy said.

Buck felt himself blush a bit because he was the world’s worst undercover wingman. “Okay so one of those guys is my friend, Josh. He’s had some rough luck dating and he was feeling a bit nervous, so I offered to come and hang out at the bar while he was on his date. Just in case anything happened, he’d have back up or whatever he needed.”

Tommy blinked. “You’re giving up your night to sit alone at the bar just in case your friend’s date turned out to be an asshole?”

“Yeah. I guess,” Buck said.

Tommy smiled at him, shaking his head fondly. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“I’m just helping out a friend,” Buck said, feeling uncomfortable. “I’d do it for anyone.”  

Before they could talk any more, a waitress came out with Tommy’s food, stealing his attention. Their chat was less than 10 minutes but Buck felt like he could have spent hours talking with Tommy. He tried not to be annoyed that his food came and he was going to leave—the man had probably just gotten off a shift, probably a twelve or thirty-six hour shift, based on it being night. Tommy deserved to grab his food and then head home to eat and crash.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t suck though. But it’s fine. Buck would go back to checking his phone and keeping an eye out for Josh.

Tommy placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Well, it was a delight to bump into you and I enjoyed our conversation. You made the end of a long thirty-six hours speed by as I waited for my food.”

“I’ve been told I do that,” Buck said, completely distracted by the weight of Tommy’s hand on his shoulder.  

Tommy laughed like Buck had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. He removed his hand and smiled. “And I’m serious about giving you a tour if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Buck said. “Um, should I call the station?”

Tommy smiled again and shook his head. “It’ll be easier if you just let me know directly. I can make sure there’s time and be the one to give you the tour.”

Tommy reached down to grab the pen sitting on top of his receipt and then scribbled his number on a napkin. “Take care, Evan.”

Hearing Evan come out of Tommy’s mouth was surprising, but surprising in a good way—in a way that Buck wasn’t going to think much about right now. “Yeah. Yeah. Uh, you too, Tommy. I’ll—I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.” Tommy grabbed his bag. “Oh, and good luck with the rest of your date.”

With that, Tommy laughed a little and then walked out, leaving Buck sitting there, carefully holding the napkin and wondering exactly what was happening with fate right now. Maybe his luck was turning around.

[ilwonuu]

saw ur posts and i really hope you're feeling okay now! if you feel like writing i wanna ask for some reqs where in the established relationship reader realized just how much jungwoo loves her bcs she's on her periode week and jw is taking care of her nicely without hesitating even adjusting his works and providing his help to accomplish reader's workload. thank you so much i really hope you're doing good and having a happy days ahead <3

thank you so much same for you:( i love this idea bc im always soft for jungwoo<3 thank you for requesting i hope you enjoy hehe,,,

honey

*๑♡՞ kim jungwoo

ᖗ pairing- established relationship, idolbf!jungwoo x fem!reader

ᖗ warnings- fluffy fluff , mentions of period pain/cramps, reader is not feeling great thru most of this, jungwoo is a sweetheart <3, he loves reader sm bye,,,,lmk if i missed something

ᖗ a/n- hi mls!!! i missed posting and i haven’t written for jungwoo in a while and i think he might be one of my biases,,,anyways i hope u guys enjoy<3 not proofread 😪

you have been rotting in your bed for hours. you asked your boyfriend to bring you some extra feminine products just incase. he was quick to respond to your text. he sent you a text saying he would be home soon with everything you need. you sighed in relief feeling so thankful for him. you cuddle up into your blankets as you wait for your boyfriend.

you watch whatever dumb dating show you had on earlier. your pain on the first day differs but this time is was painful as hell. you took some ibuprofen but it hasn’t started working yet leaving you to suffer. you hear the front door open making you smile to yourself. you see your boyfriend with a bag from the store.

“i asked you for a couple things- baby you didn’t have to get all this.” you sit up to face him as he brings the bag over to your side of the bed. “i know you did. i wanted to get your favorite snacks and some more stuff just to make sure you have it. i’m sorry you don’t feel good sweetheart.” he sits on the bed next to you. he pulls you into a gentle hug as he rubs your back.

“how was your day other than that? did you rest mostly?” he massages your back looking at you for your response. “it was good. i was missing you all day. i was just watching tv and cleaning a little but i gave up on the cleaning very fast.” you smile at him as he smiles back. “yea? i was missing you too. don’t worry about the cleaning i will take care of it all.” he rubs your cheek softly as you lay against his chest.

“how did you come home so early? i thought you had long schedules today?” the two of you move to lay down under the covers together. he pulls you close as he faces you. “yea i had meetings mostly but we got done like right before you texted me so i was quick to get you things.” his hand is resting against your hip as he gently massages your side. “you’re gonna put me to sleep baby.” you laugh as you close your eyes.

“come here.” he says pulling you to kiss him. you kiss him back quickly melting into the kiss. he holds your side gently as he kisses you softly. “i really missed you.” you pout looking at him. “i really missed you too, honey. you were all i was thinking about during my meetings.” he smiled at you again. he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you.” you sigh at the cramps you feel. “rest honey. see if you can nap? i love you more.” he looks at you with a soft expression as he helps you get comfortable. he rubs your back softly until you fall asleep next to him. he just smiles as he watches you sleep peacefully.

jungwoo woke up early that next morning to make sure you had enough food. he made you your favorite breakfast when he saw that you were slowly stirring awake. you watched him bring in your breakfast as you fully wake up. your cramps already kicking you in the ass in the first few seconds of you being awake. you sigh at the feeling but smile at your boyfriend.

“you ok sweetheart?” he sets the food down on the side table as he climbs back into bed. you kiss his lips quickly as you climb out of bed to go to the bathroom. “i’m fine! don’t you worry.” you smile back at him as you quickly use the bathroom. you come to your bedroom feeling a little bit better as you crawl next to your boyfriend. “you didn’t have to make this for me. thank you- wait what time is it don’t you have dance practice today?” you ask as you start eating the breakfast he prepared for you.

“oh yea! i do i just told them i had my girl to spend time with. we pushed it to this afternoon so i can stay with you a little longer. then i can bring home dinner for us!” he smiles at you softly. “how are you feeling though? need medicine, water, anything you need i will get it.” he smiles to himself as he feels the need to help you without thinking about it for a second.

“i’m feeling okay today- my cramps are killing already but i think i just need to finish eating this and it’ll help. thank you baby.” you smile back at him as you continue to eat. “ok. let me know if that changes. as for now i’m here to give you love.” he kisses your head as rubs your thigh softly. you finish your breakfast after a bit with a smile. you look over at your boyfriend to see him already looking at you. you start to tear up as your thoughts start to clutter your head.

“baby? what’s wrong?” his expression is a more serious one as he pulls you closer to him. “n-nothing- i just- you’re being so nice to me. i feel so shitty and here you are making me feel so much better- cooking me breakfast? jungwoo you are too much.” you start to cry as he holds you in his arms. “sweetheart i will do absolutely everything for you. you are my main priority. i don’t need anything else but you. i will always be here when you don’t feel good.” he kisses your cheek as more tears fall from your eyes.

“honey- i love you so much okay? come here.” he pulls you closer to him as he kisses your lips. you kiss him back as you feel him pull away. he kisses your tears and gently wipes them away. “my pretty girl. i love you more than you know.” he smiles at you sweetly as he rubs your hair back. “i-i love you jungwoo.” you sigh into his arms as you stop yourself from letting more tears fall. “you are the best boyfriend i could ask for.” he shakes his head.

“you’re the best girlfriend i could ask for. you deserve the best only you know that. i will never give you less than you deserve. now let’s cuddle until i have to go to practice, i don’t want to leave your side until i have to go.” you laugh at him shaking your head. “what about my online classes? i haven’t done any assignments for this week.” you groan thinking about your work. “don’t worry about it until i leave! when i come back ill help you he smiles kissing your head as you two stay tangled in each others arms for the next hours to come.

[heazueken]

Can I believe You? - Part 1

*ೃ༄ summary: Nanami leaves behind the Jujutsu world fresh out of high school and reader resents him fir abandoning not only you but Haibara too. warning(s): body horror, violence, graphic violence, major character death, angst...lots of angst, mdni pairing(s): nanami kento/reader wc; 4.1k a/n: got the courage to post this hear too but you can find this on my ao3 too! there is a lot of angst in this...just a warning

______________________________________________

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my type, Y/N?” Haibara says your name cheerfully when you set your lunch tray down on the table. A laugh escapes you, finding joy in how brash and unapologetically blunt Haibara was. It was one of the many things you had admired about him.

“And why is that, Haibara?” Geto, Gojo, and Shoko side eyed you two, their ears perking to listen in on the conversation. A blush washes over you, the attention being all on you now and you nervously poke and prod at the food in front of you. Nanami pays no mind, Shoko had decided that he better spend his time massaging her shoulder than listen to you and Haibara blabber on.

“Because, you eat well, you’re strong and you’re super pretty!” You laugh, so innocent, so plain. Haibara felt like such a normal person that he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb as a classmate learning jujutsu. You admired him for his stubbornness to prove people wrong and always study hard, put his own life before your own.

“Well then, if I’m your type, how come you haven’t asked me out on a date?” He smiles and lets you eat a little more before he answers, folding his arms over the cafeteria table.

“I don’t ask out girls who aren’t interested in me back.”

“How do you know I’m not interested in you?”

You watch his eyes flicker to the side at Nanami, then back at you. A silent discussion between the two of you occurs and your cheeks flush in realization. You curse at Haibara has he immediately falls into a fit of giggles, you throw your rice at him, Gojo hears the commotion and helps you empty your plate on him while Shoko laughs, Geto sits there quietly watching and Nanami is scolding the two of you to stop.

“Geto hasn’t been looking so good,” Haibara mentions to you and Nanami. He’s sitting on the stairs in the school hallway and lays his head in his head, sighing. 

“I tried to cheer him up, I’m not sure it worked, though.”

You put a comforting hand on Haibara’s arm, rubbing your thumb over his uniform.

“You tried. That’s the best anyone can do. I’m sure you helped a little.” Haibara gave you a weak, genuine smile and you knew you gave him a little comfort in that moment.

You heard about what happened from Nanami. The mission going terribly wrong, the Star Plasma Vessel - who you learned to be a girl Rika - dead. Assassinated by a man who had threatened their lives, left the both of them on the verge of death, thankfully Gojo was able to use his reverse cursed technique. Geto was left with the sight of watching Rika die right in front of him, pool of blood forming beneath the girl after Geto had offered to take her back home, offered to let her live the life she had deserved. Of course the trauma of that would send anyone into a spiral, you knew of that, and yet, it seemed like no one else could understand why he had been in such a funk. You remember Gojo taking you aside to talk about it, mentioning that he had asked him if anything was wrong, that he looked thin and wasn’t eating. 

“And he…it’s like he forced himself to look at me and I could see that fake smile when he told me he was fine. That it’s the fatigue the heat brings him,” He shrugs his shoulders passively.

“Why didn’t you push him to tell you more?” You demand, trying to meet eyes with Gojo but with the sunglasses it was impossible. You couldn’t see the look in them but you saw his eyebrows slowly come together, creasing the skin.

“Because, I want to believe that he’s actually okay. I want to believe that he’s telling me the truth.”

You and Gojo both know he wasn’t.

“Satoru, he told you what had happened. How could anyone walk away from that without having felt some guilt?”

Gojo didn’t look at you, ashamed, he knew you were telling the truth but he had refused to see it.

“Because we’re the strongest.” He said simply. You couldn’t argue with him.

You saw Geto when you were heading back to your room. He looked sluggish, his feet dragged behind him and his head hung low.

“Suguru,” you said quietly, softly stepping towards him. He raised his head then and you saw what Gojo had described. His lips curled into a smile that did not look like the one you knew so well. This was not the Geto you had befriended so early in the school year. This was someone playing a part, someone who was hiding something, hiding a deep pain that he was keeping from the rest of his classmates. His eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t even looking at you truly.

“Y/N,” he responds gently. “What’s up?”

Words fell silent against your tongue and you couldn’t seem to form what you wanted to say.

“I….what happened?”

He shrugged. There was a long silence between the both of you.

“One moment I'm standing there with her and the next she’s a bloody heap at my feet.”

The smile still remained on his face and your blood ran cold. The mission had failed. You already knew that but it had explained why you had heard about the Start Religious Group celebrating the death of the vessel. You could not come up with anything to say, you stared at Geto and your hands raised to cover your mouth in shock.

“Suguru-“

“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he began walking again, the sound of his feet dragging on the floorboards was the only thing that could be heard down the long hallway. You watched him until he disappeared into his dorm before you could finally find the words. Not that they would have given him any comfort anyway.

I’m sorry.

You hadn’t want to use your technique, not when you knew it would harm Haibara and Nanami. But when you saw the curse thrash Nanami into a building did you feel the smoke ooze out of your palms in a desperation that hindered you still. Your eyes widened and your fist clamped around the naginata staff, your eyes caught where Nanami’s body slumped, his weapon laid next to him as you saw blood trickle from his mouth. A rage increased inside you and you readied your weapon, feeling the poisonous vapor enshroud the weapon before you. You had to use it now.

Before you could leap and attack you saw Haibara. Only a flash of him when he ran to Nanami’s side. He lifted him, shaking him and though you couldn’t hear, you could see him frantically yelling for him to wake up. Haibara had one eye shut, blood pooled from his head and over it, his hands were covered in his own blood and you watched him smear it across Nanami’s face as he desperately shook him to consciousness.

The curse roared, its tentacles reached and flashed across the area towards you, but you were quicker. Your blade sliced the tentacle off and the smoke secreting from the weapon soaked itself into the skin of the curse and it quickly began to bubble. The skin grew blisters, they turned plump and pink and the curse took a moment to stare at its large stump before screeching in pain when the blisters burst, puss oozed and more vapor poured out of them. The monster began thrashing, the remaining tentacles swung and destroyed the buildings around it. It screamed obscenities and you rushed forward, slicing another limb off. Your feet were quick, running along another one, letting your blade glide across its green skin and let more spores awake in its path. You glance just for a second to see Nanami finally getting up, pushing Haibara away in an attempt to run and help you fight. You kept the curse further away because your technique was considered a curse, even if humans came into contact with it it would cover their bodies in horrible blisters and eat away at you from the inside. You had learned to channel it through your weapons to make the smoke more precise and less dangerous. But you had to release a puff of the poisonous smoke from your hand to keep the away from your friends.

Nanami screams your name, this monster wasn’t a grade 2 like they thought.

It grabbed you with one of its untouched tentacles, throwing you down to the ground. Your weapon falls from your grasp and before you can register what had happened you hear a sound of bones breaking, skin squelching and what sounded like someone releasing a pail of water across the floor. It was blood.

Haibara stands in front of you. You look up at him, his back to you and you see it. The curse had stabbed right through his body, the limb poking out of his back. Your mouth opens into a silent scream and you can only watch as he vomits blood and more blood and more until his body immediately goes limp.

You don’t remember much. The world seemed to be spinning. You were pulled aside by someone, people in suits and sorcerers more powerful than you finally arrived and you watched them massacre the curse. Your eyes trail to where Haibara had been left lying there, forgotten in the heat of the fight. A flame ignited in you and you fought against the strong arms of what you assumed was another sorcerer holding you back.

“Let me go, let me go!” You screamed. “Haibara! We have to-“

“We can’t! Not yet!” The sorcerer responded, grip becoming tighter on you.

“Get the fuck off me!” Your voice strained. “We have to save him! Let me fucking go!” You thrashed, kicking dirt up with your feet in an effort to get to Haibara. You felt defeated when you couldn’t even wiggle one arm from the person's grasp. 

You saw people with medical masks and long white coats run to his body, placing him on a stretcher and frantically talking to one another as they ran to the vehicle waiting for them. You see Shoko, scrambling outside the car, her face also covered with a mask. She turns to you, catching your gaze and you hold onto it, your eyes begging for some answer. 

Will he be okay?

She shook her head.

You don’t remember how or when you had calmed down but the next moment you were in a car with Nanami beside you. You look over to him and he was staring blankly, blood, Haibara’s blood now dried on his face. He wouldn’t look at you - couldn't look at you.

Everything felt numb.

“That was a first grade case.” The severity of the situation hit you like a damn train in that moment. Your vision became blurry and uneven, your hands grappled to the handlebars of where he lay and the tears dripped onto the shroud. There were dark tear stains riddled across the blue of the fabric and the moment Geto finally, finally pulled it over to cover Haibara’s pale, bloodied face did you crouch and sob with all your might. The tears streamed down your face, falling to your knees and letting your hair trap around your face like blinders, your ears thumped with blood rushing loudly. A sinking feeling fell inside your stomach as you struggled to breathe but more sobs broke out instead. Your stomach began to turn, the world becoming quiet and muffled around you and you didn’t notice Nanami crouching next to you, not until you felt his hand on your shoulder.

Don’t comfort me. What’s done is done. Your comfort can’t bring him back. Don’t comfort me. I don’t deserve it.

The tears dried your throat and you began to retch, they were empty gags but the tears refused to stop even when your body begged for them to. You couldn’t shy away from Nanami’s touch and the way his palm tried to soothe over your back. Your crying didn’t subside until you had passed out.

Haibara was dead and it was your fault.

“Y/N,” Nanami said softly. “It’s okay.” He’s crying too but you don’t see it, can’t hear him when you’re unconscious on the floor.

Everything is black. You’re in a void and all you can see is Haibara's broken, bloodied body on the ground. Several of them littered around your feet, you look around and it’s endless, the bodies, the blood soaking into his uniform and pooling around your feet. Your stomach churns at the sight before you, watching the blood go up and up, rising over the toes of your shoes. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. All you can smell is blood and all you can see his Haibara. Tears stream down your face.

I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

You feel a set of hands on your shoulders, gripping you. You blink your eyes open and the bodies are gone. Except one. Haibara’s standing in front of you, grasping you so tight you think he’ll shatter the bones in your shoulders.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t look right. His face is contorted, blood is pooling out of his mouth and onto the ground. His eye is an empty socket with a cascade of blood running down the expanse of his cheek.

“Why didn’t you save me?” He asks with an eerie frown. You gasp and find your voice.

“They wouldn’t let me get to you! I tried to-“

“You weren’t strong enough. I died because you failed.” He would never say these things. Never. And yet it felt like that truth. Still, you shook your head.

“I did my best! It was a grade 1 curse! I tried to save you! I tried to save Nanami! You-“

“You failed,” He said, every word he spoke blood only poured out, staining his teeth red. “You weren’t strong enough.”

Haibara was dead and it was because you weren’t strong enough to save him.

You awoke in your bed with a gasp, sitting up immediately. Tears stained your cheeks already when the memories came flooding back to you.

“Y/N!” It was Nanami. He had been sitting down beside your bed, you guessed he had fallen asleep judging by the small rim of red around his eyes. Or maybe he had been crying just as much as you have. He reached for you, his hand grabbing yours and the other one going around your shoulder to support you. The room began to spin and little black stars riddled around your field of vision as your head thumped like a drum. 

“Careful, you sprained a few ribs.” He gently said. You looked at Nanami, his face has a look of concern, your heart warmed at the realization that he had stuck by next to you for however long you were unconscious.

“H-how long was I out?” 

Nanami pulled away, letting you lean back against your beds headboard.

“Couple of hours at least. You were talking in your sleep.”

The dream came flooding back to you and you held Nanami’s gaze for a beat, wondering what to say. What had you said?

“I’m sorry…” You leaned back, the ache of your bruised body finally making itself known. “What…what do we do now?” Your hand rubs gently over the bruises riddled over your ribs.

Nanami sat with the question for a bit. Sitting back in the chair beside you and rubbing his fingertips across the wrapped cloth on his arm, blood starting to creep its way to the surface. He’ll have to change his bandages soon.

“We recover and go back to work.”

Your stomach sank, something felt different. The vessel incident, now Haibara…everything seemed to be too much. Like their entire world was crashing down with them.

You’re weak. That’s why. More people are going to die because of your lack of skill. Blood is on your hands because you weren’t strong enough to protect Haibara. 

“Hey,” Nanami said, putting his good hand on your shoulder. You blinked at him, taken out of your egregious stupor. Your eyes met with his brown ones and your heart beat a little faster.

“It’ll be…alright. I think. As long as we have each other, right?”

You always had Nanami and Haibara at your side. Now with him gone your only option was to support Nanami and he support you. You two needed each other now. It was the right thing to do. You nod.

You would become stronger for Haibara.

It got easier, as time went on. Nanami had stayed by your side and you stayed by his as the two of you recovered. 2 months flew by and you two were sitting in your dorm together, still bandaged up but you both were able to eat more. You looked down at your rice, sifting your chopsticks through it.

“I miss him.” You say. Nanami doesn’t need to ask who you’re speaking about and he pushes his hair to the side to get a good look at you.

“Me too.” He reaches over, he smiles, it’s sad and it carries a silent apology with it. He squeezes your wrist in comfort.

“He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He’d want you well fed and healed. Now eat.” You brought the rice to your mouth, eyes still skimming across Nanami’s face as he elegantly finished his food. You noticed he’d grown more, was starting to look more like a man. In just 2 months his jaw had seemed more sharp, his shoulders bigger, hands larger and warm when they touched your healing skin. His hair had also grown…longer.

“When are you going to cut that hair off, hm?”

He turned to you. “What? Is it an eyesore?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Yes, and it’s lame. You look like - what do they call it? A scene kid.” He rolls his eyes as you giggle. 

“Finish your damn food already.”

You always had a crush on him. Even now, when he smiled at you - which you rarely saw him do - did the butterflies release inside you, a laugh released from you and there was a sharp pain in your side - sending you into a coughing fit, you groaned because damn, those bruised ribs fucking hurt. Nanami patted your back, trying to comfort you but it only caused more pain to ache throughout your body. You shove him away, a fit of giggles and coughing and groaning filling the room and you think for a moment how much you had admired Nanami for sticking by you throughout all of this. He had suffered a great loss, too.

Nanami Kento was the strongest man you had known.

Nanami Kento was a coward. 

You hadn’t suspected a thing. Although, he had been starting to keep to himself a lot more as the years passed. It wasn’t particularly out of character for him so of course you were ignorant to the plans he had been setting up ever since Haibara died. Freshly graduated, pride still riddled across your face as you strutted through the halls, chest pumped up and high on the fact that you were Number 1 on the honor roll list. You wanted to share the happiness with your best friend, perhaps get some drinks with him. The thought of it makes your face go hot. You open the shoji door to one of the classrooms that Nanami frequented with you, a smile big and bright on your face.

“Nanami, I-“

Nanami was not there. In his place was Gojo Satoru, leaning against one of the student desks. He adorned his iconic sunglasses, laying further down on the bridge of his nose so you could see a glimpse of his pure sapphire blue eyes. Your smile quickly fades and your shoulders lower. A stone sinks inside your stomach.

“Gojo, what-“

“He left.”

You immediately ask, “Who?” The air became suffocating when Gojo pushed himself off the desk and walked closer to you. His footsteps echo across the room and he looks at you with an empathetic look and you know his answer. It feels as though a curse has wrapped its spindly fingers around your throat when Gojo finally answers.

“Nanami. He left this morning. Told Yaga that he was leaving jujutsu high.”

No. No, that’s not right. That can’t be right. The feeling on your throat felt tighter, pins and needles pinched the inside of your esophagus and your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to resurface. What used to be such a drafty, cold room began hot, too hot. There was no storm and yet you heard thunder and lightning, it felt like the walls around you were crumbling down. A tear threatened at your waterline and you blinked, letting it fall down your cheek. Your stomach squeezed and it made you stumble slightly.

“Y/N-,” Gojo grabbed your shoulders, supporting you against his side.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t focus on the sound of his voice, only mumbling to him so he’d know you at least still acknowledged he was there. He had an arm around your shoulder and grabbed onto your wrist with his other hand, holding you steady to guide you to one of the desks. You slumped onto the seat, your mind running through all the things Nanami had said to you. Promising that he’d stay by your side. That you would stay by his. Your throat began to burn again. Your hand tightened into a fist.

No, you could not. Not in front of Gojo. Not even in front of yourself could you cry anymore. It didn’t do anything - only caused a headache, made you feel sick to your stomach, had you on the floor heaving and gasping, hoping for it to end. It only showed the weakness you had shown when you had seen Haibara dead beneath the shroud. Gaining control of your emotions, releasing them through weapons, training your body until you were throwing up and your muscles ached was the only way you knew how to express the feelings that you held close to yourself. You had to get ahold of yourself. You slammed your fist on the desk in front of you and Gojo cocked his head in curiosity. 

“Where did he go?” You finally ask, hiding your face in the palm of your hand. Gojo was silent for a moment, you glanced at him. He had pushed his glasses all the way up the bridge of his nose so you could not meet his eyes. You could tell by the way he shuffled on his feet and his hands slid into his pockets that he was almost anxious to answer you.

“He, uh, went into business, I guess? Salaryman.”

A salaryman. Pathetic. Rather than protect people from curses and carry on Haibara’s legacy he decided to leave that behind to pursue a life of money and long hours in a stuffy cubicle. Standing around with other men in suits who only spoke of politics and how much wealth they had. He’d rather dedicate his life to a big company. Just like that, he ran off like a fucking coward. The sadness that had settled inside you boiled into a fiery anger, your hands clenching and immediately getting up. The chairs legs scrapped across the floor in a loud and screeching sound and you pushed it back into place with a force that was so great you were almost worried you’d break the wood beneath your grip.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about him. I tried to tell him that you would appreciate to be told but he didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to?” Your anger burned your skin, “He didn’t want to tell me that he was abandoning the school, abandoning the people out in the world that need saving.” You took a deep breath, “Abandoning me?” Abandoning Haibara.

He was running away like a coward. Hatred seeped into your anger and spread like the disease ridden smoke that oozed from your weapons. Gojo didn’t say a word because there was nothing else to say, so of course he stood there with his mouth a straight line, shoulders still and hands at his side now.

“Goodbye, Satoru. Thank you for telling me.” You couldn’t direct your anger at Gojo, he didn’t deserve it. You needed the training room, you needed to feel the weight of your weapon under your grasp and the blisters that awakened from the strain of the wood staff, to feel sweat trickle down your forehead and the satisfying ache of your muscles.

Nanami had been the strongest, sweetest man you had known and he had turned into a coward. Perhaps you and Haibara never mattered to him. You hoped to never see him again for the heartbreak would be too great.

[krash-and-co]

l&co dashboard simulator ok go

[dailyreko]

DAY 181: merry christmas and happy holidays!

[spiderjars]

So that ARG huh

[ID: A colored sketch of Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives. Martin is a fat black man, with some grey streaking his black afro-textured hair. He is wearing a dark red skirt, an orange button up, and orange cherry-spangled tights with red rain boots. He is also wearing a blue earring and silver wedding ring. He is kicking open a door, and is holding on to a tape. The text above and below him says “Jon holy fuck”. The drawing is a reference to the comic of Candace Flynn kicking down the door and yelling “Mom holy fuck”. End ID.]