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illyrianbitch · 4 months

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An Education in Malice — Part Four

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ heavy making out and wandering hands, lots of bickering, sexual tension, threats, name calling, torture and wound descriptions, abuse, two emotionally dysregulated cunts tbh

Word Count: 7.7k

←Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The air between you and Azriel had taken on a peculiar tension lately, some overwhelming, suffocating force that made you feel entirely too nervous for your comfort.

Neither of you could ever pinpoint who made the first move— or rather, neither of you were willing to admit who did— but somehow, like clockwork, your dress was hiked up, his leathers were undone, and he was rutting into you from behind. It was always the same: a possessive grip on your waist, in your hair, or on your breasts, breath hot against your ear as he whispered words that only fueled the fire between you, responses to whatever comments you had made to rile him up.

It had become a distraction, this strange dynamic you created, that even Renard's interrogations had taken a backseat in lieu of it. It was proving increasingly difficult to get work done between fighting or fucking.

The chamber was a dismal pit, darkness swallowing any hint of light that dared to enter. Moisture clung to the walls like a thick veil– the dirty, fetid atmosphere was tainted with the unmistakable stench of blood and other bodily fluids. You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

Azriel approached Renard, head cocking slightly to the side as his shadows danced around him— seemingly curious, excited almost. A twisted sense of satisfaction grew within you at the sight of Renard's pitiful state—starving, bloody, bruised, and desperate.

Perhaps you should have felt some semblance of remorse or pity; even with how cruel Renard was, a compassionate soul should still feel a sense of guilt, a sense of sickness. But as you searched your body for it, as you attempted to muster it up, you came up empty handed. Instead, a rush of power surged through you. It felt like karma– well deserved karma.

You glanced at Azriel. There seemed to be a mirrored expression of satisfaction on his face, an unphased coolness to the situation before him. Even his shadows seemed at home, falling into familiar, rehearsed positions as he moved. Deep down, something within you rested at the realization that he felt no remorse, either.

“Is your plan to just stare at him until he confesses his secrets?”

Azriel could already anticipate the scowl on your face from the tone of your voice alone. He slowly turned his head to toss an unamused glare your way, hazel eyes momentarily scanning your figure.

For the first time since this arrangement had begun, you were clad in something different, a departure from the usual dresses that adorned your form. The ensemble was a blend of regality and practicality, more akin to the attire of a warrior than a courtly lady— fitted pants and a tailored tunic, fabric adorned with subtle embellishments of autumn. It seemed as if Azriel wasn’t used to the sight yet— or he was entirely repulsed. You weren’t sure which, but you didn’t quite care, either.

When his eyes met yours again, you gave him an impatient eyebrow raise, nodding towards Renard’s limp body. “Are you done checking me out yet?”

Azriel’s stare remained on you for a few more moments before he followed your line of sight back to the male before him.

“Maybe if I didn’t have an incessant pest over my shoulder, I would be more successful.”

You stepped closer to him, a faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar reaching your nose. “Maybe if you were actually good at anything besides harboring a grudge, you would’ve already been successful.”

Azriel didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Being a hypocrite isn’t a look fit for a lady.”

You let out an angry breath.

Too much time had passed with Renard missing. Soon enough, your father was bound to get suspicious— and Eris was bound to get worried as well. There wasn’t any doubt that Renard didn’t know much, not only because your father was a paranoid ruler, but because he failed to plan ahead more often than not. You didn’t need much information. All you needed was an idea of what Beron was planning, some inkling. Once you knew that, you could easily prevent it and ensure he didn’t gain any more power— ensure that Eris was set up to successfully overthrow him.

But Azriel seemed to be taking his time, attempting to get other information about your court that could prove useful for the Night Court.

“I think we’ve already established I’m past that title.”

Azriel looked at you. “Clearly.”

An all-too familiar simmering prickled at your skin and you clenched your jaw, matching the intensity of his glare with one of your own.

Renard let out a weak chuckle, blood staining his teeth as he lifted his chin.

“Listening to you two bicker is almost worse than the actual torture. You’re like a married couple. It’s pathetic.”

Azriel’s head snapped towards the male and a growl rumbled through the room. “Watch your mouth.”

But Renard only sneered, turning his bloodshot eyes to Azriel. “Big bad Shadowsinger, always lurking in the dark. Afraid to face your own inadequacies in the light, boy?”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, tendrils of shadows now swirling around him, agitated, buzzing with a need to move. Renard offered a sickly, bloodied grin as he observed their movement. “No wonder you hide behind those shadows—they're the only things that can stand being around you.”

There was a pause as Azriel’s gaze grew predatory. And then a small, involuntary sound left your lips.

It surprised you as much as it did Azriel, who turned to look at you with a furrowed brow and growing scowl. Your eyes widened a fraction at the sound, and within seconds, you let out a laugh.

The softness of it felt sinful, felt completely and utterly wrong— and something rippled throughout Azriel’s body at it, dug its way deep down into him until his wings felt slightly limp. From around his arms, his shadows slowed, coming to a curious, awe-filled stop. They began whispering, but he paid no attention. He pushed the foreign sensations away, his surroundings registering in his mind as he scowled.

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

You shook your head, another laugh escaping your lips at his face, contorted in frustration— in an irritated confusion of being so caught off guard. His wings flared out, twitching slightly in response to the repeated sound. “Nothing,” you said, “Your life just may be more pathetic than I thought if you’re getting psychoanalyzed by the male you’re torturing.”

Azriel’s irritation deepened as a grin grew on your face. “Shut up.”

A weak scoff drew your attention back to the bound male next to you.

“You shouldn’t be laughing, princess.” Renard’s eyes gleamed with malice as he shifted his gaze to you. “Pretending to be tough, but the only reason you’re here is because you’re too weak to do anything on your own. Everyone knows Beron’s little girl is just a pathetic, needy bitch.”

The laughter died in your throat almost instantly, jaw clenching as your amusement quickly faded into a red haze of annoyance. A flame flickered at your fingertips.

“Careful,” you warned. You moved to take a step towards Renard, but Azriel’s hand shot out instantly, stopping you with a firm grasp around your arm.

You glanced down at where his hand met your body before pulling yourself away with a scowl. “Can you just do your job so we can kill him already?”

Your voice had a bitter, agitated edge to it now, a drawl that sounded more whiny than it did threatening. Azriel folded his arms, a gleam in his eyes as he responded with a mocking, “Why? Did he hit a nerve?”

You growled, watching as the edges of his lips turned up slightly— just enough for you to notice, just enough for that hint of an arrogant smirk to bother you.

“I think I preferred when you stayed quiet and sulked in your shadows.”

Azriel continued to stare at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his face. A sense of annoyance prickled at your skin, mixed with something that tasted nauseatingly like embarrassment. Faintly, you felt the rush of heat threatening to spread to your cheeks.

You clenched your jaw harder, gaze flickering from Azriel’s amused face to Renard’s bruised, snickering one. You landed back on Azriel with a sneer.

“Wipe that stupid look off your face before I do it for you.”

Azriel watched in amusement as you stormed off, disappearing with another huff of annoyance and a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

Renard turned to him with a vile grin. “I have to ask. What’s she like, Shadowsinger? We’ve all wanted to fuck her. I bet she’s just as desperate in bed as she is—”

Azriel's expression darkened instantly, shadows swirling violently around him as he flared his wings out, poised and deadly. He held Renard by the throat, grip unyielding, siphons glowing angrily. His voice was deadly calm as he muttered, "I warned you to watch your mouth."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Only a couple hours had passed when Azriel found you again in the Spring Court, standing in the small house he’d grown strangely accustomed to.

“You're here.”

You glanced over your shoulder, a sarcastic smile tugged at your lips. "Great detective skills on your part. Think you could use those with Renard?"

Unphased, Azriel rolled his eyes, the motion barely perceptible but unmistakable to someone who had spent as much time with him as you had. He moved with silent grace until he was standing right behind you, shadows hovering over his shoulders.

"What's all this?"

His tone was flat as he took in the various items you had strewn across the table.

You shrugged, not bothering to turn around. "I brought some things so I wouldn’t need to keep going back and forth."

You could feel his presence behind you, the warmth of his body caressing over your skin as he leaned closer. Azriel's gaze landed on a leather-bound notebook among your belongings.

"What's the notebook for?"

You stared at it for a moment, gingerly picking it up in your hands. There was a smirk on your lips as you turned to face him, face seemingly innocent and sweet.

"All my private thoughts and hopes and dreams. At night, I sit with it and write in cursive letters, 'I hope the shadowsinger shuts the fuck up and stops being nosy.'"

Your voice started light, teasing, but as you finished the sentence, your expression hardened into a glare. Azriel seemed anything but amused, and a muscle feathered in his cheek. He gave no verbal response, opting to keep his gaze trained on you until you let out a huff of annoyance.

He’d collected certain observations of you over the past few weeks.

You rolled your eyes in almost every conversation he held with you. You smelled like a crackling fire and forest pine branch, something so similar to fresh fall air. He’d seen you sneer more than he’d ever seen you smile— which was once, today, as Renard commented on his shadows and apparent self-loathing. But most of all, you hated prolonged eye-contact. It made you angry, frustrated— flustered even. Azriel wouldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt every time he watched your jaw clench, watched the tinge of pink appear on the apple of your cheeks.

“What?” You snapped, glaring at him through your lashes.

“Any particular reason you're more insufferable than usual?”

An eye roll. “Bite me.”

“Hmm.” A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Do you want me to?”

Your mouth parted for a fleeting second. And then you scowled, nose scrunching at the movement. “I brought this to keep track of everything I find out about my father and Koschei.” You shoved the journal into Azriel’s chest with a little more force than necessary.

Azriel frowned, catching it effortlessly. His shadows flowed to his fingers, gliding across the cover as he flipped it open. He glanced at you through his lashes, a single brow arching in question. “This is empty.”

“Point proven,” you shot back, “Go back to Renard and find something useful. We’re running out of time.”

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you. “I wasn’t aware we were on a deadline.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Another sigh of annoyance left your lips. "Beron is bound to realize that Renard isn't on some drunken bender anymore. He's going to come looking. I don't want there to be anything for him to find."

Azriel's lips quirked in a small, humorless smile. "I think I'm capable of hiding a trail or two."

"Are you sure about that?" You narrowed your eyes. "Because you barely seem able to get Renard to do anything besides read you like a boring, sad, self-loathing book."

Azriel let out a scoff, glancing to the side as he threw the journal back onto the table behind you. You clenched your jaw at the movement, at the sound of the thud it created as it fell onto the wood.

"Your insults are getting weaker, princess. Maybe you should take some lessons from him."

"Shut up," you snapped, the words coming out more petulant than you'd intended.

He crossed his arms across his chest. Your eyes fell to his hands, to the siphons that beamed with color in front of you. His shadows followed the movement, gliding down his forearms and around his wrists.

“What would happen if Beron found out you were sneaking around? That you were holding Renard?”

His voice drew your attention back to his face, where his eyes were narrowed in on you in a deep, curious, almost unsure gaze.

Your answer was swift, no hesitation. “He would kill me.”

Azriel wasn’t quite sure why his body reacted the way it did, why he felt himself flinch, why his wings seemed to twitch in discomfort. Whatever the reason, you noticed the reaction immediately, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly—- a motion nearly minuscule for the normal eye, but you were talented at picking up these things. Years of blending in gave you such abilities— and weeks around Azriel made it easier to read his tells.

There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy. You broke eye contact, dropping your eyes to the ground as you absentmindedly kicked your shoe at some tracked-in dirt.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you said nonchalantly, “My father has no ties to me beyond the unfortunate blood in my veins. I’m a bitch to be bred by the highest bidder.”

Something tightened in your chest as you paused for a moment. You blinked away the images that were flowing in through the corners of your mind. “I’m not worth any extra hassle.”

A silence followed. Your gaze was still on the ground, still on your black boots and the floor beneath you. A faint motion caught your eye and you watched as a tendril of Azriel’s shadow drifted to the ground— cascading down his ankle before it fell to the ground, stopping at your feet.

“I’d say,” Azriel murmured.

His words ran through you like a cold chill.

Azriel watched as something dark and fleeting passed through your eyes. You stood up straight, dropping your hands to grip the edges of the table as you leaned the small of your back against it. The faint smell of something burnt lingered in the air.

You tilted your head at him, gaze flickering between his eyes. And then a mocking, sly grin pulled at the edges of your lips. It felt unnatural. “Says the man who fucks me in the forest like a starved beast.”

Azriel’s hands slowly dropped from his chest. He took a step forward. A sense of tension crackled in the shared air, and you felt it within your stomach— a small flicker of fire.

“You let me.”

You shrugged. Heated pooled in your veins. “A good fuck is a good fuck.”

Azriel’s lips curled into a smirk, and his hand reached out to trace up your arm. You tightened your grip on the edge of the table as the touch traveled through your skin. “It doesn’t bother you that it’s me?”

There was something inherently dangerous about the way he spoke, about the taunting, accusatory tone his words now dripped with. He traced the movement of his hand with his eyes, continuing a path up your arm.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

His eyes flickered up to yours. You took a deep breath.

“Truthfully?” He leaned in closer. “I loathe it.”

His movements momentarily stilled, but you felt his shadows continue the path he’d started, felt as they slowly snaked up your arms.

“Yet you keep coming back.”

His eyes darkened, and then he let out a soft, cool hum. “A good fuck is a good fuck.”

By now, you were inches apart, the space between you a thin, taut with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. His shadows slithered around you, caressing your skin so delicately you could’ve sworn it mimicked a lover's touch— their darkness wrapping around your neck, weaving themselves through strands of your hair.

You bit your lip, and Azriel's hand moved to your mouth, the pad of his thumb slowly pulling your bottom lip down. "You said you don’t care about Koschei,” he murmured, “That you just want to help your family.”

He released your lip, thumb resting on your skin as he held your chin in his hand. He titled your head to his line of sight. “But Eris doesn’t know about Renard.”

"No, he does not.”

Your voice was quieter now, a low, soft tone that made Azriel almost groan in response. The feeling went straight through his body, coiling in his stomach and making his cock twitch.

"Would he disagree with the methods?"

Azriel’s lips were inches from yours, the space between you practically nonexistent.

You frowned at the question, feeling your chest tighten as his mouth hovered near yours. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table turned iron, feeling the chipped wood beneath your fingertips.

"He would disagree with me interfering so boldly with my father.”

"Because it would get you killed," Azriel stated.

"Yes.”

His nose brushed against yours, and he met your gaze as his hand moved to wrap around the base of your neck.

"You’re willing to continue this even if it risks your life?"

You felt strangely exposed, naked in a way that you’d never felt before— not even when your clothes had been torn off and he was deep inside you, hands roaming your naked skin with a scorching touch and a ravenous mouth. This felt intimate. You didn’t like it.

You traced the features of his face, his gaze still laser-focused on you, intense and wanting. He had a few freckles across his cheeks that you’d never noticed, and the flecks of green in his eyes were overshadowed by his dilated pupils. You took a deep breath, finding the courage to meet his heavy gaze once more.

"Wouldn’t you do something similar?"

Azriel paused. A sense of conflict passed through his eyes as he pulled back slightly, just enough to scan your face entirely.

"No," he finally said. He hesitated for a moment. "I’d do the exact same thing."

There was a beat of silence. You stared at one another, breaths turning heavy, ragged. Your heart thundered beneath your ribs. Before you could come to your senses, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him into you. Azriel responded eagerly, mouth slotting over yours with a natural, practiced ease.

His hands fell from your neck, tracing down your waist until his palms gripped your hips, pulling your body further into his own. You let out a sound of pleasure at the feeling, at how his hands explored you, how the heat of his body seared against yours. You melted into his touch.

Azriel’s lips trailed along your jawline, and with a guttural groan, he suddenly spun you around, pulling you back against him with a possessive force, his arousal pressing hard into your beck.

The sudden change in position only fueled the haze in your mind and you placed your hands over his, following as he roamed over your curves. You threaded your fingers through his, roughly guiding his palm up your chest, moving to cup it over your breast.

His lips nipped at your ear from behind.

"This change in wardrobe is interesting," he murmured, voice husky and rough with a delicious sense of desire.

You tilted your head slightly, reveling in the feeling of his breath against your skin. "Don't like it?"

He chuckled lowly, his hands cupping your breast roughly. “Don't particularly favor how difficult it seems to take off."

The sensation of his touch sent a rush of heat coursing through you. Every inch of you burned with need— an all-consuming, humiliating need.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned into his touch, head falling back onto his shoulders as his lips found the skin beneath your ear.

You raised a hand to tangle your fingers into Azriel’s hair, your eyes opening once more as his touch grew hungrier, rougher.

The view of the table slowly came into focus. Your gaze fell to the notebook, its empty pages seemed to mock you with their blankness, and you blinked as a sense of sanity washed through you like a cold tide.

With a jolt, you pushed yourself away from Azriel, prying his hands off your body as you broke the heated embrace.

Azriel blinked, shadows rushing back to him as if startled by the sudden pull away. His hair was tousled, lips still tingling from the kiss.

"What is it?" he asked, breathing heavy.

You took a moment to compose yourself, patting down your disheveled hair with quick hands. "I’m bored. This isn’t doing it for me," you lied. You swallowed as Azriel’s stared at you with a furrowed brow. "Just go work on Renard."

You left no room for him to respond. Within the blink of an eye, you had disappeared from Azriel’s sight.

His hands ran through his hair, attempting to shake off the lingering effects of the moment with you. The air still felt suffocating, still smelled of you and the sweet, addicting scent of your arousal. He scowled to himself.

His shadows slowly moved down his frame, falling to the ground and gliding across the floors. His eyes fell down to their movement, watching as they wrapped around a foot of the table, as they made their way up to the tabletop.

He squinted at where they landed, reaching a finger out to the area that they traced. There, etched into the wood, was a faint outline of a burnt handprint— a perfect replica of your palm.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Even with the familiar scene of pine and earth, returning home to the Forest House– to your court— never brought you a sense of comfort. But today, with the heat of your blush still spreading through your cheeks, you welcomed the quiet, empty halls.

The soft patter of paws drew your attention as Laney approached with her head lowered. A small smile grew on your lips as she nudged you with her wet nose, but quickly the smile dropped as a small whine escaped her.

Kneeling down, you gently ran your fingers across her coat. "What's wrong, girl?"

She only nudged your hand once more and turned, leading you deeper into the house.

A sense of foreboding settled over you as you followed her through the corridors. Your steps quickened when you spotted Flint lying outside Eris’s room. The dread in your chest grew heavier. Eris had a special connection to Flint. There were only a few situations in which he’d refuse the company.

Your face fell as you pushed the door to Eris’s room, heart clenched at the sight before you.

Eris sat on a small, velvet bench at the end of his bed, his head snapping back to the sound of his door opening. His expression quickly softened when he met your eyes, and you watched as his shoulders slumped. “It’s just you.”

You gave him a small nod as he turned back around, your gaze falling to the blood-soaked shirt he wore, the crimson color spreading throughout the thin fabric. Flint and Laney pushed past you, paws pattering on the ground as they entered the room. A heavy feeling settled in your chest, something entirely dark and queasy.

Eris grumbled as Flint neared him. “Shit. Y/N, close the godsdamn door.”

“I-” You snapped out of your daze, quickly closing the door before rushing over to him, gently pushing the hounds aside. “I’m sorry.”

You sat down next to him. “They just want to help you,” you said quietly.

Eris sighed, a deep, weary sound. “I know. I just—”

Your eyes wandered to the hounds who had settled down nearby. Such regal, cunning, smart creatures. You’d never think them caring enough to sense such pain, yet here they were, eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the situation. Flint let out a small whimper, laying his head on his paws.

You looked back at Eris, slumped with his head in his hands, spine curved in a manner that made his wounds pour deeper into his shirt. A similar thought made its way through your mind. Your brother, regal and intelligent, a male who carried so much, who bore his father’s wrath time and time again– a male with a warm heart somewhere deep within the anger he radiated. The heavy feeling in your chest grew, began to fester into something fighting between fury, loathing, and suffocating sadness.

“What happened?”

Eris didn’t lift his head, voice muffled by his hands. “He found me talking to my men. It wasn’t anything. Wasn’t about Koschei, wasn’t even about him.”

There was an exhaustion in his voice that dripped with every word.

“He was feeling particularly upset today,” Eris finished as he lifted his shirt, revealing the full extent of the damage. The lashes were deep, and you could see the dark, almost blackened edges where your father’s special concoction had seeped into the wounds. Eris bit back a groan, jaw clenched tightly.

That heavy feeling in your chest turned hot, burning— all consuming. So many things ran through your mind, overwhelming, crushing floods of emotions drowning your senses.

You registered the anger first, the empty, crushing pressure of it, a feeling you’d grown too familiar with. Anger at your father, at the situation you were all trapped in, at the sheer unfairness of it all.

And then it was guilt. Dark, suffocating, guilt. Renard missing had probably put your father on edge. Not only had you lied about it, kept it a secret, but you hadn’t been there when Eris needed you most. Instead, you’d been entangled with Azriel, a male who had no respect for you, for your family, who would so willingly watch your brother suffer. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. There was nothing you could say, nothing that would make this situation okay, that would take away Eris’s pain– that would prevent it from happening all over again. You swallowed.

“Eris-”

He lifted his head and turned to you a resigned expression, eyes slightly wide with desperation. "I’m going to call it all off. We can’t meet with them now, not for a while.”

You didn’t need to ask for clarification, you already knew who he was talking about, what alliance he was referring to. You shook your head. “No, we need-”

"It’s too dangerous," he interrupted, voice urgent and pleading. "He’s watching everyone more closely now. If he finds out you're involved, I don't know what he'll do."

You shook your head faster, a hard sense of determination flaring in your chest. "We can’t, I can't. I need to figure something out. I need to help you."

Eris sat up straighter, grimacing at the motion as he reached out, his hand finding a firm but gentle on your wrist. "You need to stay safe, Y/N. Please. Nothing else matters."

You looked at him, brows furrowed and throat tight. Your strong, protective brother now reduced to pleading with you. You took a deep, ragged breath. “It all matters. I need to help you, okay? I need to make sure you have the upper hand."

Eris just shook his head, shook it so firmly and desperately that you could’ve sworn he was a teenager again, hand on yours as he scolded you for breaking something.

"Please," he repeated, his voice breaking. “Just listen to me."

A wave of helplessness washed over you, and now you felt small again, felt as if you’d shrunk in place. Your mind traveled back, throwing you into memories where you’d hide away from your father, fearing his disappointed hand, desperate for approval but receiving only pain. The same feeling bubbled in your chest.

You swallowed hard. "I can't just stand by and do nothing."

Eris's eyes softened. "You want to help me? Stay safe.”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. The words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You couldn’t promise him that. You couldn’t lie. So instead, you turned your attention to his back, to the angry wounds that marred his skin.

"Here, let me help you," you murmured. He gave you a long look, then nodded, slowly moving his body to expose more of his back to you.

You moved your hand to his back. Heat surged through you, flickering at your fingertips. Your hands shook, trembled as you attempted to focus. You tried to channel it, to control that divine fire within you, but the energy was wild and unsteady. A self-loathing bite gnawed at you.

"I can't—" you whispered, the words laced with frustration.

Renard’s's taunting voice echoed in your mind. Too weak to do anything on your own.

Eris turned to look at you again, calm words breaking through the rising storm you felt inside your chest. "It's okay,” he said, “I can do it."

"I'm sorry.”

He shook his head at you, a small smile gracing his features. “There's nothing to be sorry for.”

There was something about the fact that he was able to smile, that he pulled such a gesture out for you, that made the bitter loathing inside of you spread even faster.

"Just stay with me?” Eris asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Of course.”

With one hand, he held yours, and the other twisted over his back. You watched as his own hands began to heat up, glowing with a controlled, steady flame.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

All you felt was anger. All you saw was red.

Memories flashed in your mind, one after another. Eris’s bloodied wounds and the far-off look in his eyes, your mother hid away from the world and the echoes of her crying, being forced to clean the floors of your brother’s blood, your paralyzing inadequacies. It all twisted inside you, each image wrapping itself around your ribs, wounding itself tight enough to make you struggle to breathe.

You weren’t sure how you got here, but the smell of blood in the air tasted sweet on your tongue. Renard lay slumped in the metal chair. Despite his appearance, a mocking grin spread across his split lips as you entered.

“Come back for more, have you?”

The sight of him, significantly more battered than the last time you’d seen him, brought a welcomed sense of satisfaction. At your sides, you clenched your fists until they were white.

“I’m done playing,” you said, your voice a low, dangerous growl. “Tell me what you know.”

Renard’s grin widened, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I'm trembling in fear,” he mocked, “What's a dolled-up whore like you going to do?”

Something inside you snapped.

With a snarl, you lunged forward, hands slamming down onto the metal chair. All the anger, all the pain, everything you’d been holding back, surged through you. The metal beneath your palms began to heat up, the sensation almost soothing in its intensity— cathartic, even.

Renard’s eyes widened. “I already told you both, fuck, I already gave you all I know!” he shouted, painful groans leaving his mouth as the hot metal below him began to bite at his exposed skin. “We don’t know anything.”

“You’re a liar!”

In the back of your mind, you grasped at your resolve, grasped at the strength you needed to keep your desperation hidden— all attempts proved futile. You grabbed Renard’s neck, fingers digging into his flesh as a simmering heat radiated down your arm. “Tell me what you know!”

Renard’s screams filled the room, his body writhing in agony. “I don’t—” he choked out, voice hoarse with pain. You stared at your hand, stared at the flicker of flames that began had to grow, watched as they moved to Renard’s skin–

But before the flames could fully spread, black smoke enveloped your wrist, wrapping around it with a smothering, extinguishing touch.

Not smoke—shadows.

A hand grabbed you next, pulling you back with a rough hand.

You pulled against the familiar grip. “Let me go, you foul-bred animal!”

Azriel’s voice was a low growl in your ear. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You struggled against him, but his hold was firm.

Within a blink, you were winnowed to an open area in the forest, the sudden transition leaving your senses reeling. A cool breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. You blinked. And then you pushed Azriel off, staggering back with the force of the motion. Your heart pounded with residual fury, a trickling sense of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“What do you not understand about 'let me go'?” you spat, “Is there something in those bat genetics of yours that makes you lose brain functioning at random intervals?”

Azriel’s didn’t budge. “Do not go back there.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Shadowsinger. I think it’s time I handle this on my own.”

“Handle it?” he echoed, his shadows curled at his fists. “You were about to burn him alive, losing control like some child throwing a tantrum.”

The color drained from your face. “And you’re the expert voice on self-control?” The taste of resentment lingered on your tongue, sour and sickly familiar. “Where was this energy when you slaughtered and tortured my brother’s men? When they were being controlled, when they knew nothing?”

Azriel’s wings twitched almost imperceptibly. Your voice fell slightly to a tone lower, more raw.

“Was what I was doing truly that bad, or do you only care that it’s me doing it?”

There was a beat. Azriel looked away before finding your eyes again. He shook his head, a small scowl on his face. “What are you implying?”

Something inside you shifted as you stared at him, every detail seemingly magnified, as if your emotions had sharpened your perception at last. You’d noticed this intensity around him, wrote it off as the thrill of an adversary. But you realized now, as Azriel stood before you, that he was something else entirely: a stark embodiment of everything you loathed, everything you sought to avoid, and everything you secretly craved.

He wielded cruelty with impunity, praised for his ruthlessness, while his family basked in the warmth of love and freedom, despite their own moral shortcomings. And now he stood before you, a bastard-born nobody who had stumbled into luck, blind to anything beyond his own skewed perceptions.

There was a defiant, knowing glint in your eyes, as if something had been confirmed— as if that you'd found the answer to some question you’d asked for centuries.

“You are so desperately searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as you’ve made me out to be.”

Azriel's eyes narrowed slightly. His demeanor remained outwardly composed, a practiced facade of stoicism and indifference, but the glow of his siphons gave him away.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You raised an eyebrow, fists slowly unfurling at your sides. Your breath was more even now.

“I understand more than you think. You’ve been waiting for me to slip, to prove that I’m just like—”

“Beron.”

You paused, slighting flinching at how much contempt was fit into one word.

Eris. You were going to say Eris. Not Beron. Not your father.

A flash of hurt crossed your face and something in Azriel’s chest tightened. His shadows fell into a frozen wreath around his arms.

“Right,” you scoffed, moving to brush past him. “Then I better do a good job and prove you right.”

Azriel stopped you with a casual sidestep, wings flaring out to block your path further. “Do not go back there.”

“I will do whatever the hell I please,” you hissed, meeting his gaze defiantly. There was a burning hatred in your eyes that he’d never felt before, something more foul and rotten than what had been there before.

Azriel’s jaw clenched even further as he let out an angry breath. The strength of your gaze alone triggered his hand to instinctively wander to the dagger on his hip, to the cool steel of Truth-Teller. His shadows curled around his fingers, threading through them as if calling him back to reality. He blinked, and then pulled his hand away, flexing it as he looked at you once more.

“Why?”

Azriel's voice was probing, his gaze searching— scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you itch.

“Why what?” you snapped back, your tone sharper than you intended, the itch spreading, making you want to pace or scream, anything to shake off his intense stare, to rid yourself of the tightening in your chest.

“You’re desperate. This wasn’t as thought out as you tend to be.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh, feeling the sound scrape against your throat. "Because you know me so well?" The words felt like ash on your tongue, a bitter taste lingering in your mouth.

“Yes,” he stated simply, his eyes piercing into yours still. “We’re allies. Explain yourself.”

"I was just trying to pick up your slack and get information." The lie rolled off your tongue naturally.

But Azriel wasn’t buying it. "No, that’s not it," he countered, "We’re working for the same side. There is no reason for you to go off like this."

You gritted your teeth, the pressure making your jaw ache. “We are not working for the same side.”

“We have an alliance.”

His calm demeanor only fueled your frustration. Your hands fell into a familiar position at your side, curled into tight fists, your nails biting into your palms.

“Your alliance with Eris is to support him when he takes over the throne. But when it comes to Koschei, there is no doubt in my mind you’re willing to undermine your allies to get rid of his threat. And in doing so, you’ll endanger me and my family.”

Your voice was rising, the words spilling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “ I want to— I need to know everything before any moves are made. My brother needs an edge to stay ahead, and he sure as hell isn’t going to get it if he’s playing by the rules and having to defend his every move because of this stupid agreement.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening to near black. “Eris wouldn’t need to defend himself if he wasn’t a vile snake.”

Rage boiled through you, its fiery grip yanking onto your stomach and your chest.The intensity of it casted a hazy glow, distorting your vision with its searing heat.

“I am fed up with your little group thinking that we need to beg for your forgiveness. Tell me, does it get cold on all of that moral high ground? Does the high horse ever get uncomfortable?”

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, the contact sending a jolt up your arm. Azriel's hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly.

"Perhaps Eris feels the need to beg for forgiveness because of the acts he’s committed.”

“And what has he done? Besides refusing to give in to every whim?”

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip held firm. Your pulse pounded in your temples, a steady, throbbing beat. You felt that familiar prickling feeling grow across your skin, a simmering fire creeping up your arm.

“He left Morrigan in those woods to die.”

He dropped your hand, the action almost dismissive, as if he couldn’t bear to touch you anymore. You pulled it back into you and took a step back, shaking your head. Of course. The thought echoed in your mind, bringing a bitter realization that settled like a stone in your stomach.

“It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

Azriel’s expression hardened, centuries of a grudge etched into every line of his face. His shadows danced around him, dark tendrils coiling and writhing like live fire across his body. You felt it radiating off him in waves— a palpable hatred that made your skin prickle. It was a feeling so intense you wondered how he had managed to lessen it before, how he could bear to be inside you, even with you turned away.

“My brother didn’t put that nail in her. He didn’t touch her at all.”

Azriel’s eyes were hard as steel. “He left her there. Naked, scared, and dying.”

“He gave Morrigan mercy in the only way he knew how.”

“You call that mercy?”

“Yes! Eris was just as much of a child as Morrigan was.”

Every word felt rancid now, burned like bile in your throat, fueled by a protectiveness born from years of standing by your brother's side. You stepped closer to Azriel, not bothering to hold back the flames that now licked at your skin. His shadows coiled around his arms, formed an almost protective barrier around his clenched fists.

“Do you know what my father would have done had Eris touched her, helped her at all? He didn’t take lightly to the disrespect and humiliation she passed. He would have made a public show and slaughtered her. Just as he later did with Jesminda.”

Azriel stayed quiet, stayed eerily still as he watched you. You didn’t expect a response. A new emotion curled itself into your gut, something much heavier than anger, than rage. You thought about Eris, thought about the lashes on his back, thought about how he used to stay awake at night to wander the halls, listening outside of your parent’s chambers in case your mother needed help. You thought about how he’d helped you bury Jesminda, how he’d kept a figurine of Lucien’s to give to you.

No matter what he did, or what you did for him, he would never be free— not truly. Not from his past and the assumptions people have made of him. He would always be cruel. And you, in association, would always be evil. Vile. It was in your family's nature. You felt foolish for thinking otherwise, for not learning how to take your rage and make it something useful, forge it into a weapon, train it like a beast to eat the remaining shreds of your empathy.

Eris deserved better. He was better than Rhysand. He was better than the male that stood before you.

"But none of this matters to you," you continued, your voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. "Even if it's the truth.”

Azriel’s wings twitched. You didn’t need further confirmation that your words held true. He would never accept a version of that night besides his own, because a version that included the truth would force him to see Eris as something other than a wicked, evil male. As long as your brother was worse than Azriel, as long as there was someone worse than him, he’d never have to face the fact that he wasn’t as good of a male as he claimed to be.

"You make excuses for your brother, but where are yours?" Azriel finally spoke. "You've done cruel things. You've hurt people. Killed people." His gaze flickered to your fists wreathed in flames. "Burned them alive," he added.

The fire at your arms grew in response to his words. You cocked your head. And then you ignored him. "You threatened my life. At that High Lord’s meeting— you lost control, put my brother in a chokehold, and threatened my life."

Azriel's nostrils flared and his siphons began to shine with a dangerous, angry glow.

"I dare you to live up to your word, Shadowsinger," you challenged, taking a slow step towards him. "I'm here. I've been here.” His eyes traced your every movement.

“And yet, you've just fucked me."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of anger and shame that he quickly masked behind a veil of indifference. But you saw it, felt it, reveled in it.

"You're weak, Azriel," you said, voice low and calm. "A slave to your anger, to your impulses, to your High Lord. You have always been weak."

He blinked at the sound of his name falling from your lips, a wave of uncertainty washing through his face. But his eyes stayed on you, still burning, still angry. They simmered hotter now, heavier with a new strain of contempt.

Your breath escaped in a half-hearted chuckle. "It's a pity," you said, shaking your head slightly. Your flame dwindled to a faint firefly glow. "To see such a pretty face marred by blind devotion."

With one final glance, you turned on your heel and winnowed away. You didn’t see Azriel again for two more weeks.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

←Part Three

guys.... the next part is one of my favorites tehehehe cause its mainly just azriels perspective and where his mind is at. PLUS this is where those content warnings start to get lighter :DDDD

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader angst #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #malice series

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reidmania · 1 month

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let the grass grow | spencer reid

summary; you love spencer too let him stay while your world falls apart at your own hands.

warnings; hurt x comfort w no comfort, exes, angst w no happy ending, self depricating thoughts, insecurities, self sabotaging, avoidant attachment reader, fem reader, early seasons spencer, mentions of not eating, scars but never says whats from, arguments, but u guys love each other. its just sad tbh. 1.7k words

an; this is purely for my own sake and i wanted to make it a comfort but i genuinely couldn't bc this is a very real and relevant issue that no comfort seems to comfort so.. enjoy the pain?? song is let the grass grow by ruel, my man my man.

‘so I'll leave before you go, ‘cause there's no tears when it's my fault this self-sabotage, all of our other scars don't compare. take the river to the sea, drown myself, so I don't sink, find my peace there, underneath the hurricane, break a promise, so I can leave, burn a forest so i can sleep. lay my head stone and let the grass grow over me’

You could feel eyes on you everywhere, constantly throughout the entirety of the day. Even though deep down you knew no one was really staring at you the amount you built it up to in your mind. Constant judgement and quiet questioning from the gaze of your co-workers made your stomach fill with an overwhelming sense of sickness, it made you want to crawl into a hole and remain there in a foetal position for the rest of the time life offered you.

Quiet whispers of worry bounced around the building from your co-workers to one another, each one who had asked if you were okay throughout the day – multiple times, every to which you’d reply with a nod of your head and a forced smile on your lips that left indents on your cheeks, when your eyes remained the same distant and sullen that caused their worry in the first place.

It wasn’t until you were leaving the building you heard the same question after a whisper of your name, but from Spencer.

Your head turned towards him faster than you meant it to, you swore any faster and you would’ve ended the day with not only a worse mood than you woke up in but also whiplash. Your eyes met his and you wished they didn’t. The care is held and balanced evenly in his eyes, causing a slither in the walls you had built up around yourself and everything that fell below surface level.

“Are you okay?” His eyes studied your face as if he would find any hint of truth in your expression since he knew better than to believe the lie that fell from your lips. Spencer Reid wasn’t an idiot, anyone and everyone was painfully aware of that, you were painfully aware of that. He hadn’t asked the question the same amount everyone else did, he hadn’t even talked to you today until now.

You nodded in response, casting your eyes away from his and back to the elevator you wished would hurry up. Two weeks, it had been two weeks since you broke up with Spencer, it had been two weeks of Spencer everyday asking you why, and it had been two weeks of you being unable to provide an answer that seemed good enough for him. Nothing you said seemed to help him understand why you would break off something that was going so well, that made you both evidently happy, everyone could see it, everyone watched you both pine after one another for years.

“Talk to me” He begged for what felt like – and probably was, the hundredth time.

Your head shook, because what were you supposed to say? What did he want you to say? You didn’t know and for you that meant you were better off not saying anything, maybe because the truth you fought to keep away from the open air seemed so pathetic and embarrassing it was better left unsaid. He was asking you to show him the deepest and worst parts of you and you were refusing and he just wouldn’t let it go.

“I don’t have anything to say” You replied, the same response as every other time he asked. It wasn’t enough, not for Spencer because he knew it wasn’t true.

He frowned, and it broke your heart.

“I just want to understand,” He pleaded with you, reaching out for your hand. You pulled it away, what you were doing was mean, you knew that, it was unfair and mean to both him and yourself. Depriving you both of what you both wanted and yearned for so deeply all because you constantly felt like the world was closing in on you and things fell apart under your touch, it was just mean – but you weren’t cruel enough to allow Spencer the touch of your hand to pull it back all over again.

“I wish you would” You mumbled out, muffled enough you could convince yourself he didn’t hear even though you knew he did. You didn’t intend to be mean with your words, you wished he understood that you were physically incapable of what he was asking from you, it wasn’t something you could bring yourself to do.

The elevator dinged and the door opened and you were thanking the world, until Spencer got on next to you and now you were left in a confined space with the one person who seemed to break through the box of self deprecation you would bury yourself into, time and time again. You didn’t want him there, you didn’t want him in your space, in your mind and in the middle of your emotions that took you down day in and day out.

You wanted him, that wasn’t something you tried to hide, just something you deprived yourself of because you didn’t want him to want you, you didn’t even want you. The fact someone else could, someone like Spencer, was overwhelming in a number of ways and it only furthered the insecurity that consumed you.

“I’m here, I know there’s more than what you’re letting on.” He said, you wanted to appreciate his effort of reassurance but it didn’t help. You loved Spencer, and you were now certain he was the sweetest person to ever exist. How could you allow yourself to indulge in something so sweet and so pure when you deemed yourself the opposite. You fell apart and buried yourself in your own issues, you spent days lying in the darkness of your bedroom body starved and scarred, you’d mull over every mistake you ever made and everything in your life that should have belonged to someone more deserving.

You didn’t answer him, so he spoke again. “I have been and I'm going to be here until you’re ready to talk about it” his voice was gentle and dripping with reassurance you wish you could accept because his words were suppose to be reassuring but they left a bad taste in your mouth and just made your heart clench tighter in your chest to the point you thought it might’ve stopped beating.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You said, not turning your head to face him but you were sure enough that they best portrayed what you were feeling, too much.

He let out a breath, a sigh of a sort and shook his head as he spoke, “I never said you did, I don’t mind waiting for you–”

There it was.

“I don’t want you to do that.” You snapped slightly, guilt instantly infested your gut but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t need him to wait around for this feeling to go away because it never did, your entire life, it never had and you didn’t imagine that changing. “I don’t want you to wait for me, Spencer. I don’t want you to just wait around for something that’s never going to happen, this won’t change. I made my decision” you huffed out the most you had said to him since that night you ended things which consisted of a teary eyed argument.

He dragged his hands through his hair as he tried to figure out what to say, then the elevator came to a stop and you were moving off it quicker than his brain could process and then he was following you and he was reaching out for your hand, even though he knew better by now. “You said you loved me, you said that while you were breaking up with me. You said you loved me and that you were sorry, you couldn’t do it anymore and then gave me nothing else” He stated, his eyes pleading for some sort of answer, something he could blame himself for.

That's not what you wanted, you didn’t want him to blame himself – that was almost a part of the whole point. If he blamed you for this, if you ended it now then there was no chance it would happen any other way. You could live with him blaming you with this, much better than you could live with getting hurt or inevitably hurting him. “I do love you Spencer” You said, you weren’t going to lie about that.

Your arm pulled away from his touch but he only reached out again, “I’m trying to respect your decision, but I don’t understand. You love me but you don’t want me to wait, you love me but you broke up with me – I just- You’re doing this thing where– you like to shut down and shut everyone out and I don’t want you to do that. If you don’t want to be with me then I’ll respect that but If you think I can stand around and watch you fall apart you don’t know me, and I would really prefer to think you did because for the longest time I thought I knew you and now finding out that maybe I don’t is– Well it sucks.”

You huffed out, you knew it was unfair and contradicting and you almost wished you had never gotten involved in the first place because you hated the fact you were hurting Spencer right now because your emotions were confusing. It was unfair. “I’m sorry” You started. He was right, you knew him and he knew you, on the slightest of a deeper level.

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologise and then brush it off. I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be honest. You keep everyone at arm's reach, on surface level– I want more than that, I want to know you, and understand you, I want to understand this. Tell me what you need and I'll do it, but I need to understand why first.”

How were you supposed to tell the single handedly most sweet, kind and perfect person that you were unable to provide him with the one thing he wanted – to know you. How were you supposed to admit that something as simple as that was too much to ask for.

“There's this expectation that I can't reach, that I never have, never will and I love you, Spencer, that's true – but I'm not going to let you sit around and watch me fail time after time again to reach the expectation of basic human existence.” You shook your head as you pulled your hands away from his grasp, your body turned as you walked away.

He stood calling out your name but his feet stayed glued to the ground, and there was no response from you.

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agaypanic · 1 year

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My Babysitter's a Vampire Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Benny

Casts spells all the time just to see you smile

FLOWERS!!! So many flowers, conjured at any moment

Your locker becomes a garden tbh

Would do anything for you

If you need help, he’s there in a heartbeat

If you have a problem that can’t be fixed with a spell, he’d probably try to create his own

Favorite pastime is playing games with you

Especially when you’re playing in his room because, more often than not, you’re sitting on his lap

Your guys’ favorite game to play is Minecraft

“Y/n, where are you?” Benny asked as he built a house for the two of you.

“I’m on the other side of the hill.”

“Why are you so far away? It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“This side has more flowers.” He looked at your screen, and sure enough, you were picking flowers in a field. “The house has to be pretty.”

“Y/n, I dunno how to make the house look like you.” Benny pinched your side with his teasing and you giggled, squirming around in his lap. He kissed your temple before going in to start putting structures inside the house. “Now get over here before I have to go get you.”

Reluctantly, you left the field and made your way to the house. Making sure to close the door behind you, you ventured inside and found Benny’s character in the bedroom.

“Aww! You put the beds next to each other.”

Rory

BIGGEST SIMP OF ALL TIME I SWEAR

The second he sees you, he’s a goner

Benny and Ethan gotta pull him down bc he starts floating

Carries all your stuff without you asking

Walks you to class all the time, even if his class is on the other side of the school

Saves a seat for you at lunch even tho it’s your unassigned assigned seat at the table

Practically has heart eyes anytime he looks at you

Talks about you all the time to his friends

They could be talking about something completely different, but he’s determined to make you the topic of conversation whenever he can

“Oh my gosh, that reminds me of the time Y/n…” and the two things will be COMPLETELY unrelated

You immediately spotted your boyfriend and your friends by your locker when you got to school. Rory seemed to be going off on some tangent, and it must’ve been going on too long because the others looked like they were about to murder him or themselves. To spare your friends, you walked fast to meet them. Rory sensed you before you could speak, turning to look at you with vampire swiftness.

“Y/n!” He looked at you like a puppy who hadn’t seen its owner in hours. When you were close enough, he peppered your face in kisses, much to the group’s disgust.

“Hey, Rory.” You laughed when he eased up on the affection, moving to greet everyone else. “Hey, guys.” They replied with their own greetings while you opened your locker. With each book you took out, Rory immediately took it from you without saying a word. “Rory, baby, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I insist, honeybunch.” The warning bell rang, and everyone dispersed. Rory walked you to your first period, something he did every day without fail.

“Okay, you better go. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. That’s what superspeed is for.”

“Superspeed you shouldn’t be using in public.” You took your books from Rory and gave him a kiss to tide him over for the next hour. “See you after class?”

“Always, baby.”

Ethan

Soooo nervous about being around you

Whenever he touched you, he’d get visions of the two of you together

That just made him fall harder for you

Makes flirty remarks based on his powers

“I had a vision we made out” kinda stuff

Memorizes everything about you

He believes every detail is important

Whenever he’s around, don’t even think about paying

Even if he’s broke, he’s paying for your stuff

You and Ethan were in line at some fast food place, all he could afford. You would’ve offered to help pay but knew attempts would be futile. As nice as Ethan was, he was also stubborn. Soon it was your turn to order, and you didn’t even speak, Ethan relaying your regular order perfectly, down to what sauce you wanted. He then let you lead him to whatever booth you wanted.

“You know, I don’t mind paying one of these times.” You commented before taking a sip of your drink. Ethan shook his head, dismissing the thought.

“Y/n, for the thousandth time, it’s fine. I really don’t mind.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” Your boyfriend grinned, reaching to take your hand. He looked down, watching his thumb rub back and forth over the back of your hand. You saw a slight smirk and knew what was coming. “I just had a vision.”

“Oh really?” You bit back a laugh, flipping your hand over to interlock your fingers. “What happened in this vision of yours?”

“Well, first of all, the food is very delicious.”

“Oh, good.”

“And second, I ask you something very important.” This piqued your interest very much.

“I think you should ask me now.”

“Sorry, babe, I ask you after we get our food.” As if waiting for the cue, your order number was called. Ethan grinned, kissing your hand as he stood from the booth seat. He left, and when he returned with a tray of food, you were impatient.

“Okay, ask me the question. I wanna know.”

“Okay, okay.” Ethan distributed the food between the two of you before looking at you expectantly. “Who gave you the right to be so pretty?”

“Oh my God, Ethan.”

#benny weir x reader #benny weir headcanons #benny weir #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner #rory keaner headcanons #ethan morgan x reader #ethan morgan #ethan morgan headcanons #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire x reader #agaypanic

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universalmofo · 8 months

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okay i finished heroes of olympus a couple days ago and here are some of my thoughts :

-nico should’ve been a part of the seven. he was essential to the success of the quest in numerous capacities and one of the big three’s kids. it made NO sense to me that he wasn’t one of the seven. (on that note, i think it did make sense that thalia wasn’t one of the seven. she has been with the hunters for some time and she was presumed a tree for like a long time.)

-grover could’ve very very easily taken coach hedges part in hoo. grover was already out looking for percy, so if he was already looking for percy and if annabeth found out that a “clue” to where percy was, was at the wilderness school grover would’ve jumped at the opportunity to go and try and figure out what was going on at the school by acting as a student again. he would’ve been back at camp by the end of the lost hero and he would have, what, 6 (?) months to go spread a warning to the wilderness about gaia and get things in order before they took off on the argo ii. and he could’ve been trying to communicate with percy via empathy link the ENTIRE time he was doing other stuff.

-it was just lazy of rick to write out grover tbh. and even tyson who came all the way across the country for percy. only for them to have extremely limited amount of time spent together (which makes sense, but this would’ve been HUGE for percy).

-it has been stated over and over and over again that quests should only be taken on by three. this quest was the biggest task they had ever faced, with far too much at stake. therefore, the prophecy of the seven should’ve been a utter tragedy ( one could even say a modern greek tragedy ) where they all accepted that four of them would Not be finishing this quest alive. that they were all willing to give themselves up for the greater good.

which four should’ve lived, i think percy, nico, annabeth and leo. (this pickings are biased and based on the idea that nico should’ve been included in the seven prophecy, if nico is not included then frank or hazel could take his place, but also these choices are based on their importance to the quest and their strength/ability)

- there was no need for there to be so many couples in the group of seven. it caused a huge lack in my opinion of actual friendship development.

there was very little actual friendship development/ vibes even in the lost hero when piper and leo HAVE been friends for MONTHS??? also this continues to be an issue in the rest of the books where piper and jason literally leave leo out or there is a comment along the lines of “he knew to give them their space”.

rick constantly threw in comments about how hazel and piper had become closer, or piper and annabeth had become “best friends” while not actually showing that. same thing with the boys. the only example i can think of where there was some real development was that conversation leo and frank had when they were at the bottom of the ocean.

they never had moments of them all sitting and talking besides about strategy.

- and on THAT note piper and jason never should’ve started dating. it was forced. it just seemed like the thing they should do after hera forced these memories in pipers head. quite frankly, it was a huge missed opportunity for a storyline in which leo and piper had been dating and hera shoved jason in between those memories and leo piper and jason are all SUPER pissed about that, or a storyline about how jason and piper try to figure out if there’s something there the entirety of the lost hero but the reason it just doesn’t feel right to jason becomes more obvious to him as he slowly develops a crush on leo.

there were just a LOT more interesting ways to go about that trio and none of them happened which made that entire dynamic fall flat for me and i think a lot of people.

which makes sense why frank leo and hazel worked SO much better and were believably close and connected. (even if frank and hazel were mainly the audience being told they like one another and not shown)

-percy was slightly off throughout the books. i believe even rick admitted he had a hard time writing percy in these books since he hadn’t for a while.

-did we ever find out why leo and piper were totally fine out in the world even tho they were 15??? i don’t remember this being explained??

-i distinctly remember jason getting some memories back and remembering frank and hazel as his friends AND hazel or frank discussing jason as a friend in son but then in house of hades or maybe mark of athena or blood of olympus (i can’t remember), hazel thinks to herself that she was still not sure what to think of jason? like she couldn’t tell what was going on underneath the surface? as if they hadn’t been friends or ever met before the quest?

-nico and percy are friends at the end of the day. percy is on some level protective over nico and nico is connected to percy / cares about him even if he doesn’t have a crush on him. they have a very interesting dynamic but at the end of the day, if percy went missing for MONTHS, nico would’ve been looking for him. and he most definitely would’ve not just pretended to entirely not know him when he came to camp jupiter??? especially when percy asked if he knew nico. that was SO weird to me. i was expecting them to have a conversation, even if nico gave him very brief and vague info.

on that train of thought, percy WOULD NEVER doubt the idea of rescuing nico??? his fatal flaw is LOYALTY. no matter how pissed he was at nico he would never question if they should even save nico. even if NOT for nico, it was kinda established that percy felt like an older brother to hazel (even tho this dynamic was never again touched on or seen), which again, he is loyal to those he cares about so he would be willing to do it, if not for nico, then for sure for hazel.

-percy never says i love you or i love you back to annabeth until blood of olympus. which is CRAZY and sooo not percy in my opinion.

-why the hell were mark of athena and house of hades the hardest parts of the entire quest ??? fighting gaia should’ve taken up the the majority or better yet, the ENTIRETY of boo, similarly to the last olympian.

i think this came down to a poorly paced series. rick could’ve broken his formula in tlh and son and moved the stories along faster. have the annabeth reunion in son or make the books longer.

- leo and nico would’ve been an interesting dynamic and quite frankly, they could’ve been a very cute couple. both feel like they are always on the outskirts / like they don’t fit in, both have complicated and sad familial issues, both of their mothers died because of the gods in some regard, both have never had a stable home, both speak other languages, both don’t have any other family then their godly parents, both have constantly been running their whole lives and haven’t been able to make real connections and friends.

the fact that i could even come up with this many makes me even more mad cause my lord. what a missed opportunity.

-leo was the heart of the entire quest. he literally CARRIED for five books straight and he was paid DUST.

i hated his ending.

you’re telling me that he literally has spent a year, fighting alongside his friends, building a ship for them to be able to carry out this quest, living with them, caring about them, and then “sacrificing” himself and all that mattered to him was A GIRL??? his FIRST priority was calypso??? not even letting his friends know that he was ALIVE??

on that subject, why wouldn’t he tell them his entire plan? if he was gonna tell hazel and frank that he was going to die anyways?

-percy losing his heroes blessing or whatever it’s called?? 😐 it seems like rick just needed a reason to get rid of this? it honestly just made no sense.

- and last but very not least ( i can’t believe i almost forgot ) WHAT WAS RICK THINKING NOT HAVING PERCY OR ANNABETH’s POV’s in BOO????

i gotta be real y’all i did not know i had so many opinions/ issues with the books until i started doing this.

anyways, mark of athena and house of hades are by far the best books of this series and also the most gripping and well written. please remind me if i miss remembered something and am wrong.

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shadowbriar · 8 months

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Matt Murdock - Waste My Time

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : (18+) Short smut. A bit of non-con in the end? Angst. Kinda not liking Matt here tbh. Also not proofread as my laptop is still whack. Synopsis : He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. Notes : There should be a prequel for this but idk when I could write it. Please nag me for it so I'll have the motivation to write. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The air smells sinful.

Their bodies were pressed together, separated only by the thin layer of their sweat. Her body was aching, nearly cramping from all the jolts of electricity surging through her veins. She’s lost count of the many times the sense of warmth pooling in her lower stomach bursted like a tidal wave yet she couldn’t find it in her to ask him to stop. There could never be enough of Matt Murdock in her, ever.

Matt’s muscles were tensing on top of her. His grunts were becoming louder in her ears as he tried to suppress them by leaving a trail of wet kisses around her neck. He was close, she could feel it.

“I’m—,”

“I know,” She croakes, finishing the words he couldn’t continue as he falls deeper into ecstasy “Let it go.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle as the bed squeaks with each of his thrust, “We’re really gonna break this bed soon.”

“Well, thank God it’s yours and not mine.”

He didn’t waste any more energy in talking as he kissed her deeply. Matt closes his eyes tight, trying to find and commit to the best rhythm to reach their climax as soon as possible. He was close, but she was a few thrust behind and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of him to finish without her.

With his right arm supporting his body weight, Matt’s left hand reaches down to her clit. Her feet buckled when his callous thumb rubs her throbbing bud. A small smirk forming on his face as he feels her heartbeat quicken. As much as he loves their intimate session, he really couldn’t hold his release any longer and he’ll swear he’ll explode any second now from the tension.

“Matt—,” She squeals “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Just— One more,” He breathes, his grunts getting louder as his thrust becomes sloppier “One more for me, please.”

And that’s when she feels it, another rush of ecstasy building inside her. She pulls him tighter, nails digging into the muscles of his broad shoulders. The mark certainly feels like nothing compares to the injuries he’d often sustain from his delinquent nightly activities, but it made him groan nonetheless.

Matt’s face now hovers over her, mouth agape as he tries to keep his sanity as they’re reaching their orgasm. A couple more thrust and Matt could feel her whimpering under him once more. He follows not long after, sinking into the crook of her neck as energy completely flush out of his body.

“That was good cardio.”

Matt chuckles, “Who would’ve thought we’d be such health conscious people, huh?”

She laughs in response, her fingers finding their way to play with the soft strands of his hair.

Their breathing slowly calms and so do their hearts. Matt now pulls away from her neck, still on top of her as he adjusted his weight to his arms so that he wouldn’t crush her for much longer. He could feel her staring. He wonders what she might be thinking right now. Was she pleased? Is she happy? Does she want this to last as much as he does?

Instinctively, Matt leans in for a kiss. It was a much softer kiss than the one they shared a couple minutes ago. His lips touch her gently as if they were fragile petals of rose. His right hand finds its way to cup her cheek, thumb caressing her jawline gently.

“Matt,” She says, pulling away and looking away so that he’d stop kissing her “I think I want to clean up now.”

And there it is again, the strange thump in her heartbeat. He’s noticed the change of her pulse lately, especially when he kisses her more softly than he usually does. She would let him kiss her for a while, returning the gentle gesture before pulling away as if someone’s poured her with a bucket of cold water.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” He says instead, slowly moving to the side so that she could get off the bed “Do you want some help with that?”

“No, I’m okay.”

The sound of her footsteps leaving the bed becomes louder in his ears as she gets further away. A bitter sense of resentment builds in his heart. What happened? What went wrong? Does she not like it when he kisses her that way?

Matt knew that from the get go that they’ve agreed to keep their ‘affair’ clean of feelings. That they would just waste each other’s time but it was certainly easier said than done. They’re just friends, sure. She’s the one person that could topple Foggy for a friendship battle in his heart, but lately it’s been much more than that. It’s been much more than stolen minutes of holding her close after their shared nights. It’s been much more than marking her skin and hoping that it could actually mean something more than just bruises of love. It’s been much more than friends who waste each other’s time by kissing in dark rooms.

The sound of water trickling from the shower head is now heard. Matt knew that if he wanted to, he could focus his hearing through the noise of the water to hear her true feelings, but he chose not to. He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. What was he supposed to do then if that was certainly the case? He’d rather lose a limb than to lose her, be it as a friend, a sex partner, or perhaps a lover.

—-

It was one of those rare nights when Matt chooses to actually socialise and put the mask down for a couple hours. The place was packed with friends and loved ones. Foggy and Marci’s engagement party is certainly lavish with expensive champagne and grand decoration. Marci must have certainly bent over backwards to make sure everything went perfectly tonight.

She was standing by the sofa on the patio, watching Matt being so immensely interested in whatever discussion he’s having with one of the guests. Must be someone he knew back in Columbia from the way he looks so at ease. His brilliant wide smile never leaves his face. She was sure that his cheekbones must be threatening to fall anytime soon from all the grinning he’s doing.

“You must be Matt’s new nurse.”

She turns to see a beautiful woman, smiling brightly at her, “You must be Claire.”

“I am, indeed.” Claire nods “Matt has told me so much about you.”

“I hope he’s not complaining to you about how unskilled I am with stitching his wounds,” She groans, rolling her eyes “It’s not even my fault that his scars are never healing. Everytime I stitch one up he’ll manage to rip it open that very night whilst gaining a new wound. How am I supposed to work my healing magic if he’s so determined to hurt himself like that?”

Claire chuckles, nodding in understanding, “Why do you think I quit?”

She smiles, appreciating Claire’s company.

In no time the two women were talking and laughing together. It pains her to know just how charming Claire truly is. Matt had told her about Claire and why she chose to leave Hell’s Kitchen and ultimately him. She wonders if he ever had any regret not letting his walls down for her.

“Claire, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“How did you do it?” She asks, hesitation evident in her tone “How did you leave Matt?”

The kind smile on Claire’s face faded a little. Her brows furrow for a while before shaking her head as a sign of confusion. It was certainly the least expected question she was hoping to hear from someone Matt has been boasting so fondly about.

“I know you care about Matt deeply, don’t get me wrong,” She explains fast “I just— Matt told me that you two had.. Something. I just wanted to know how you could get yourself out of it.”

Claire’s expression turns into an understanding one, “I hope I’m not understanding your question wrongly but Matt could be.. Quite hypnotising at times. I’m sure you know that best, being one of his childhood friends.”

She flashes a small smile.

“I guess, I just didn’t want to be sucked into the blackhole that is Matt Murdock.” Claire sighs, a satisfied smile lingers on her lips “It would be practically inevitable for you to get out of his grasp once you’re wrapped around his fingers and as you know, he’s not one to have ‘back down’ in his dictionary, ever.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

“Well, Matt also has so many layers to himself. As much as he pulls you, he would push you away and I guess I wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship.” Claire continues “You can love Matt as much as you possibly could, beat yourself black and blue just to keep him, but in the end, the only one who knows what Matt Murdock wants is Matt Murdock.”

Claire’s words sink into her brain. None of the things she uttered were news to her. She knew Matt better than anyone and it was all true. As much as Matt pulls you, he would push you just as strong. He’s a complicated man with a complicated history. Yet with all the knowledge she has of him, with all the years they’ve spent as friends, with all the understanding they have for each other, she still couldn’t decipher his true motive.

Matt’s sudden change of action scares her. He becomes more attentive, more gentle and spends more time with her after each of their ‘cardio’. He would cuddle with her, staying in bed until the sun started waking. His kisses no longer feel needy but longing instead. The way his hands dance around her body feel much more calculated, much more cautious as if he’s afraid of making mistakes.

Now if the reason for all of these changes were of what she hoped for, that a certain sentiment was growing for her just as much as she yearns for him, then this would certainly be their happy ending, but Matt is known to be quite the womaniser. He has that charm that he never shied to use around women. Though she loves him with all of his brilliance and mischievous traits, for once she fears of what he might truly have at heart.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Claire asks, snapping her out of her thoughts “Is there something you wanted to share with me?”

She shakes her head, feigning a smile, “Nothing. I just wanted to know what happened between you two so I can nag him later about it.”

Unbeknownst to the two ladies, Matt has heard all of their exchanged words. His grip on his white cane was borderline destructive, knuckles white from how much he’s trying to bottle his emotions. Is she planning to leave him? Is that what’s happening?

Is that why she always avoids his gentle touch? Because she doesn’t want to be that attached to him? Does this mean that he truly has been barking up the wrong tree? That his feelings really flows one way?

—-

“How did you even get this drunk, Matthew?”

She stumbles to help him get to his apartment. Some time after her lovely chat with Claire, she finds Matt pissed drunk in one of the rooms in Marci’s apartment. He was hammered, slurring words that could barely be understood. His glasses were tossed to the floor, white cane laying feet away from where he was slumping at. Something was wrong.

Closing the door behind them, she puts Matt’s arm around her shoulders as a means of support. She knew that she could barely offer any stability for him, but it would be better than having nothing, she reckons. He surely can’t lean on his white cane to navigate.

But before they could get in further inside the apartment, Matt pushes her to the wall. He was pining her in place. He licks his lips, listening to her heartbeat that’s starting to thump harder than it did a few minutes ago. She was scared.

“Matt—,”

Before she could finish her words, Matt leans in and kisses her hungrily. He pushes his body to come in contact with hers, pressuring her to keep still as his hands now hold her wrists.

“Matt, let me go.” She says between the kisses “You’re hurting me.”

Matt didn’t stop. He kisses her, nibbles on her lips until he could feel the foul taste of iron. He wasn’t sure whose blood it is he’s tasting but he couldn’t careless. His left hand now cups her cheek as his elbow pins her hand still. It was practically impossible for her to move.

“Matt, stop!”

Only then did he finally pull away. He lets her go, taking a few steps back as he pants from the adrenaline and anger poisoning his blood, “Leave.”

She blinks, completely confused as to what is happening to him, “What?”

“Leave this apartment and never come back.” Matt says coldly “I don’t want you to ever come back to my place, do you hear me?”

“I— What are you talking about?”

“I said, leave!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on!” She yells back. She was afraid, her heartbeat must have told Matt about her true feelings but she wouldn’t run out of this place without getting any explanation. Not after that rude and forceful kiss he gave her just now.

Matt’s lips were locked in a thin line. He couldn’t piece the words he wanted to utter. There’s so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to shout, but all he could think about was the heartbreak his chest was concealing. His heart was aching and it pains him even more that she was oblivious about it.

“What happened, Matt?” She asks once again, this time with a softer tone though the state of her heartbeat was still erratic.

“This isn’t working.”

She blinks, hardly understanding his words, “What isn’t?”

“Us, this! Whatever this is.” He says as his hands do all the gestures of his frustrations “It’s not working anymore.”

“That’s certainly not what you said last night when you fucked me on the sofa.” She scoffs “What is wrong with you? What happened at that party?”

Matt’s breathing was uneven. His chest heaving up and down in the most foul way that he just wanted to grab his mask and find someone he could actually beat into pulp. He was frustrated. The aching in his heart amplifies with every ticking second and the fact that he’s put himself in this situation infuriates him even more. She was clear as the sky about what she wanted from this ‘relationship’. Matt has got no one else to blame about his burning fantasy than himself.

“I used to think that we can do this to waste some time,” He breathes in a low growl “Now I realise that you’re just wasting my time.”

“I’m wasting your time?”

Matt went tight lipped.

“I’m wasting your time,” She repeats, still in disbelief “I’m not the one who begs the other to stay till morning, Matthew. I’m not the one who texts the other every fucking night like a clingy boyfriend. If anything, you’re the one who’s wasting my time!”

“Well, then leave! What are you still doing here? Leave!”

There was a hint of salty taste in the air now. Matt knows that he’s crossed a line he’s never done before. Her heartbeat was still racing, but this time it was caused by a completely different reason. Before she was afraid and unsure, but now she was angry. So angry that Matt knew it wouldn’t be the kind of dispute that would subside in a week or two. This is the kind of anger that would leave marks that only time and the Universe could heal.

“Fuck you, Matt.”

A loud slam of the door was heard as she left him all alone in his apartment. The silence that follows was deafening. Matt could feel his apartment growing as his body shrinks down to the void he’s slowly drowning in. He’s burned all the bridges they’ve ever built before. As of tonight, it was certain that he’s lost a friend, a sex partner, and perhaps a lover.

#matt murdock #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock scenarios #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock angst #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x oc

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callmelola111 · 1 year

Text

my summer of you ♡ part two

✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 - - - - inspo track (till there was you)

synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4.5k

| ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, lots of fluff, marajuana use, profane language, mentions of tense family relations and childhood trauma (brief), joel cameo, ellie is so loser nerd it's actually adorable, ⭑ SMUT ⭑ … soft dom!reader, sub!ellie, mommy kink, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), pet names (baby, special girl, etc.). MINORS DNI !!

a/n: hi lovelies, last part!!! ellie is just a sweet little angel baby who deserves to be taken care of!! sorry not sorry. i know dom!ellie is a fan favorite (trust me i love her too) but i feel obligated to write loser!ellie as an actual inexperienced, obsessed, space loving loser. kinda unplanned, but the end just turned into me living out my mommy fantasies tbh. ha i need her so bad, anyways... thanks 4 the love ♡~ lola

A twinge of anxiety hit the pits of your stomach as you stood, fist at the ready, face-to-face with your neighbors white front door. A deep exhale finally sent your hand into motion producing a loud knock on the wood— one you repeated 4 times before finally being answered.

The door handle rattled a bit before completely twisting to the right and revealing an older gentleman. His hair was brown, short and messy. The man's face was shrouded in a thick beard full of grays and his brows seemed permanently furrowed. You would’ve been a little fearful if it wasn’t for his sweet southern greeting that immediately softened you.

“Well, hello there little lady. What can I do for you?”

“Uh, hi… I live next door. You’re Ellie’s dad right?” you questioned.

“Mmm… kinda, I’m Joel. But um, if you’re looking for Ellie she’s still at work.” he replied, quickly moving past your question. It felt odd but you could see that asking him to elaborate wouldn’t be in your best interest- or his for that matter.

“Oh okay… do you know when she gets off?”

“Six I think. I’m sure she’d love to see you though. Girl hasn’t stopped smiling since you moved in next door.” His answer made your cheeks hurt from the widest grin you’d ever made.

“I guess that makes two of us.” You looked at the ground feeling somewhat bashful as you admitted how smitten you were with his “kinda” daughter. “Well uh, thanks Joel, it was really nice to meet you.”

“No problem kiddo, you too.” The man waved you off down the concrete steps and you waved back before he shut the door behind him.

Without a 2nd thought you trekked 4 blocks over to the bookstore where Ellie works, practically skipping the whole way. That sweet little bell rang once more as you pranced inside. A comforting smell of old paper immediately wafted through your senses.

Running your fingers along the yellowed edges of tattered books, you waited for Ellie to detect your presence. The girl seemed to be completely consumed by the small paperback resting against the edge of the counter she was positioned behind. The intentional clearing of your throat is what finally broke her focus with a slight startle.

“Hi Els.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she attempted to question nonchalantly, but the excitement behind her voice was clear. The frantic taming of her auburn locks and crimson colored cheeks was also a dead giveaway, and just as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, it quickly fell back to its rightful place- in front of her lovely face.

“Wanted to see if you’d wanna go to the boardwalk after your shift?”

“With you?” Ellie could hardly believe it.

“Of course with me… But, I mean that’s only if you wanna go.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes.” she slurred out frantically at a volume that was definitely not suited for a bookstore.

“Knew I could count on my special girl. You’ll be done at six right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You almost lied to Ellie, as the topic seemed like the kinda thing that was supposed to go unsaid. But you didn’t.

“Uh, Joel told me…”

“Oh? You talked to Joel?” Ellie seemed to withdraw at his mention, fidgeting with the pages of her book.

“Yeah… just for a second. I went over to see you and he answered the door.”

“Gotcha…” She lingered on her words like there was more to say but ultimately refrained from speaking out. You couldn’t help but pry just a little, it was in your nature.

“You seem kinda off when he’s brought up. Can I ask why?” Your bold question made you wanna squeeze your eye’s shut until the moment was over, and the growing silence made it even worse.

“Another time?” Ellie answered begrudgingly. You felt bad for even asking.

“Yeah yeah of course. I- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” All the sudden your hands were clammy and the long thread hanging from your top was wrapped around your index finger, restricting circulation. Anything to distract from your social slip-up.

“No, no, don't feel bad! I promise you did nothing, I- it’s just me.” She gave you an apologetic smile and suddenly everything felt okay again.

“We’re still on for the boardwalk though, right?” you questioned, motivated by the need of reassurance.

“Yes. Please.” she affirmed. “If you want you can just hang here with me until then? I’ve still got like half an hour left.”

“Okay, yeah.” you gave a shy smile feeling less in control than in your usual interactions with Ellie. The fast growing feelings had suddenly clouded your incessant need to flirt and tease 24/7. What was this girl doing to you?

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

As the sun set south in the watercolor sky, the green tinted waves crashed just past the dock where you stood. Ellie was positioned beside you with both hands awkwardly in the pockets of her distressed jeans. Nerves were obviously eating her up.

“Chill out Els, this is gonna be fun!!” you smiled all teeth and nudged at her tattooed arm which she eventually released from the denims tight hold. You snatched her free hand, which was concerningly wet, and dragged her through the crowds of people. Ellie didn’t complain once and if you had asked her to jump off a cliff too she probably would have done it right then and there.

You looked up at the towering ride in front of you and then turned to give Ellie some puppy dog eyes, “Can we pleaseee ride the ferris wheel?”

“Yeah of course, whatever you want.” And she meant it. The only thing Ellie asked of this night was to see your gorgeous smile and hear the symphony that was your giggles. She wanted you to be happy– happy with her.

After waiting in a short line of babbling kids and adults, a small blue pod sheltered by white, plastic roofing swooped down to load in more passengers. You slid onto the bench attached to the left side and Ellie situated herself opposite, hand anxiously gripping the edge of the seat. The wheel began to move as you sat face-to-face, only a thin white pole separating the two of you. You gripped it between your hands before peaking around to question her.

“Are you scared of me or of heights?”

“Huh? Wha- what do you mean?”

“I meannnn… you’re huddled up in that corner like I’ve got Covid or something. Come sit with me Els. I miss you.” You batted your eyelashes and gave a pout like you were a sick puppy who only Ellie could cure. She could barely keep her composure when you flirted like this and was of course already embarrassed enough for sitting so far away. But how could you blame her? The poor girl was so anxious and had basically zero play to go off of.

In frantics, she scurried over to the other bench causing the apparatus to rock back and forth with a screech and you let out a little squeal in return. Ellie came to your protection leaving only centimeters between each other and you essentially lost all brain function.

With a sheepish laugh she apologized, “Sorry I’m so fucking stupid sometimes.”

“Hey don’t say that!” You scooted to the right, closing the gap between her jean-clad thigh and yours. “You are not stupid Ellie Williams.”

“I kinda am.”

“What makes you think that?” you asked, placing a comforting hand to her tense shoulders.

“I don’t think you wanna know…”

“I do Ellie. Seriously, you can tell me.”

“Well, uh- I guess I just feel stupid cause… I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a date.” She looked down in shame at her confession. “And I- I feel even more stupid for wondering that.”

Moving your hand to her thigh you gave a long sigh, “Oh els, don’t feel stupid for my shortcomings. I know it’s childish, but even now I can never seem to find the courage to say how I really feel.” Ellie’s face was teetering on the verge of surprise at your admission.

“Well, how do you really feel?” she appealed.

With slight hestance you spoke the truth, “I feel like… I also want this to be a date.” The girl smiled wide and patted your knee with care.

“I guess we’re on a date then, huh?”

“Yeah I guess we are.” you poked back. But before you could even take in the view from your spot on the ferris wheel, your pod had already reached bottom and the metal door swung open to exit. Maybe another time when you weren’t so captivated by the girl in front of you.

After a few games and an ice cream stop, the sun had set and crowds dissipated. Although it was obvious that neither you or Ellie were ready for the night to end.

“Sooo, what now?” you looked all around trying to think of an excuse to stay out longer.

“I have a joint in my bag… if you’re up to smoking. We can light up on the beach.”

“Ellie– I’m always up for smoking.” Problem solved.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

Sitting cozy in the sand, Ellie reached into her navy blue backpack to grab the weed and you watched dotingly. As she zipped the front pouch back up you noticed a small pin– a rocket ship

“What’s that?”

“Just a pin. I’m into space shit.” she answered, pulling out a forest green lighter from her back pocket.

“Ooo tell me more!” Ellie released the joint that was about to be lit, genuinely stunned at your interest in her nerdy fixation.

“Well, I wanna be an astronaut. Kinda like Sally Ride. That’s why I’m a STEM major.”

“Hell yeah, women in STEM! But ummm, who’s Sally Ride though?”

Her eyes went wide, “You don't know who Sally Ride is??” This spun her into a long tangent about the famous astronaut, and the strides she made for women, and how it’s even cooler because as Ellie put it, “she was gay!!”. As she rambled on you felt your feelings multiply. You had never seen her talk so much, and with so much passion too. It was a sight to see– one that you’d save to memory.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” she questioned.

“No, not at all Els! I love it. I love hearing you talk.” You gave a reassuring beam as Ellie finally lit the joint that had been rolling around in her lap after the conversational detour. The salty air picked up making it hard to ignite the paper so you offered a helping hand to shield the wind. Ellie accepted graciously, eventually taking the first inhale and passing it over to you. Sitting criss-cross in the sand, you held the burning substance between your pointer and thumb before taking a savory puff.

“God, it feels like ages since I last smoked.”

“Have you not been able to find a good plug here?” Ellie wondered.

“Not exactly…” you took a pregnant pause considering if you even wanted to mention it. “I haven’t been completely honest about the real reason I’m staying with my grandparents.” Ellie didn’t seem to phased at this. She had suspected something was up after the odd cigarette incident with your grandma.

“You know I’d never judge you ____. You can tell me, really.”

“It’s embarrassing but… my parents banished me here for acting out at school.” you admitted.

“Really? What’d you do?” she questioned, taking another drag from the lit joint.

“My smoking and drinking habits were a little ‘out of whack’. And apparently so were the little escapades that those habits got me into.”

“What do you mean by… ‘escapades’?”

“Umm, sex. With girls.” You plummeted your finger into the sand, feeling way over the situation already. “My parents swear they’re not homophobic but sometimes I wonder if they would’ve reacted the same if I was hooking up with some frat dude instead.”

“Damn I’m sorry. So they must be really mad then?”

“I guess, they rarely even call. But I’m not sad about it anymore so it’s okay.” Ellie noticed a gloss form on your eyes and refused to believe that there wasn’t at least a little part of you that was still hurt. Like instinct she roped you into a tender hug and you reciprocated with your hand around her neck. When she pulled back a small tear fell to your cheek and you quickly wiped it trying to stay tough.

“Now you owe me an explanation after that one.” you sniffled once more, eventually moving past the momentary sadness.

“Fine.” Ellie almost had to convince herself to keep talking. “Joel isn’t my dad, but he’s like my dad, and everyone thinks he’s my dad which just makes things weird.”

“Not to pry, but uh could you maybe elaborate?” Ellie stared off into the sea as she dumped her heart out.

“My real parents didn’t stick around for long. I was bouncing from home to home for a while until I turned 14. Joel found me, he was a family friend, and we’ve kinda been inseparable since. I hate when it’s brought up though. It’s a reminder that the people who were made to love me just didn’t. I had to find it elsewhere. And even now, years later with Joel, I still sometimes feel so void of worth.” Finally looking back to you she was met with streams of your tears.

“Ellie what the fuck. That’s heavy... I’m so fucking sorry.” You just wanted to hold her for eternity and tell her that everything was gonna be okay. Tell her that she was worth something– she was worth everything.

“Hey, hey no need to cry. I’m alright now, I promise. Joel is awesome.” she reassured, using a rough thumb to brush away the drops littering the apples of your cheeks. You placed your hand on top of hers feeling the comforting warmth.

“Els, I-” Before you could even finish her lips had met yours in a spur of the moment kiss. You reciprocated as both of her hands flew to the sides of your face to pull you in deeper.

It felt like you were the only 2 people in the world and this moment was all that mattered. Passion rose as you slid your tongue into Ellie's mouth, playing a game of tag with her own pink muscle. The girl—more confident than you had ever seen—found your wrists and sent you back into the sand with purchase, obviously hungry for something.

But just as things were getting good your phone began going off like crazy. After about 7 buzzes and Ellie’s lips traveling down your neck, you had to swiftly roll out from under her to see what was up. The poor girl looked like a kicked puppy at the loss of your touch. She watched as you read through messages and immediately jumped to your feet, grabbing your bag along the way. It was Grams. And she was mad.

“Fuck fuck fuck!! I’m sorry Ellie, I have to leave. Like now.” you blurted anxiously.

“Wait what?”

“I’m sorry! I promise to explain later but I have to go.” Ellie sat confused and unresolved as she watched you disappear into the darkness with only the moonlight to guide.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

The night after coming home late, Grams had smelt the weed and in turn confiscated your phone, along with all freedoms you once possessed. “As much as it hurts to do this, I promised your parents I’d enforce some rules” she had told you as you pleaded for mercy. You were officially fucked and didn’t even have your phone to explain it to Ellie. What was she gonna think? How could you get around this? But as you lay on your bed a certain book catches your eye and that’s when it hits you.

With a pen and a brightly colored index card you scribbled out a simple note. It read...

Dear Ellie, if you’re receiving this then my plan has worked. I’m currently writing from the confines of my bedroom which I will be isolated in for the next week. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to communicate this but my grandparents weren’t too happy about breaking curfew to go “smoke pot” (which i reeked of). I don’t have my phone either, but god I miss you Els. So… if you can ever forgive me, come knock on my window late tonight and maybe I’ll let you in ;).

You slipped the small, highlighter-yellow note into the pages of The Bell Jar and handed it off to Grams to run next door, arguing that “Ellie needs it back immediately” and “it just can’t wait”. She eventually gave in after some well thought out begging and delivered the borrowed book to Joel. He then handed it back to the green-eyed girl who at first didn’t even wanna touch it.

Ellie was convinced you’d purposefully abandoned her– just like everyone else in her life. Her heart was broken and all she had done since that night was play Valorant, high out of her mind, while ignoring the rest of the world. Luckily, Joel noticed the bright yellow peaking from the paper and urged her to crack it open and take a second look. And after a quick thumb of the pages she fell upon your note which practically gave her a heart attack as she read. Ellie instantly dropped the controller at your whim and hopped in the shower to get ready for that night.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

The girl sported some heather gray Champion sweats and an oversized band tee as she slipped through the back door of her house. She opened the back gate to a small strip of grass that was the space between your house and hers, but just as the clock hit 12:00, the automatic sprinklers shot up to do their duty. Ellie was pinned to the edge of the fence as water began spraying at all points of the yard. There was no way she was getting to your window– at least, not dry. Assessing the situation, the only thing left to do was run straight through the line of fire and hope you were keeping a close ear.

She bent her knees, digging the toe of her converse into the moist dirt and then bolted over to the glass. Ellie was being pelted left and right as she knocked on your window to be let in, but you were taking your sweet damn time, and those polite taps soon became desperate ones. After about 8 chaotic bangs you eventually opened up, scolding Ellie for the loud noise and then taking note of her current state.

“Sprinklers–” she gasped, out of breath. “You never told me about the sprinklers.”

“Ellie- oh my god.” you put a hand to your mouth trying not to laugh but miserably failing. She climbed inside, rolling her eyes.

“Hey! I did this for you, fuck off.”

“Sorry, sorry I know!” You traveled to your closet still laughing as you grabbed a spare towel and clothes. “Sit. Let’s get you changed” you commanded.

Ellie placed herself on the very edge of the bed, eyes locked on your figure. She raised her arms up and peeled off the drenched T-shirt leaving her in a simple sports bra which you couldn’t help but ogle at. Then followed her sweats which stuck to the flesh of her toned thighs before finally dropping at her ankles. She wore the sweetest plaid boxers, and now naked before you, she looked so shy.

Towel in hand, you straddled her knees which dangled off the mattress just slightly. Any thoughts of self doubt had left and all she could think about was you and how close you were to her heat. You ruffed up her dripping locks of hair with the soft linen and soaked up what you could. Ellie’s arms fell back into the bed, trying to fight the urge to grip both of your thighs in her strong hands, right then and there. The silky, sheer pajama shorts adorning those thighs were not helping her case either.

“There, all better.” you smiled, doing some final scrunches to the ends of her hair. “Wanna put on some dry clothes now?” Ellie gulped down some fear and slipped her hands to your waist.

“No, not really.” she muttered.

“Oh yeah?” you teased, slinging your hands over her shoulders and connecting them at the back of her neck.

“Yeah.” Ellie affirmed and then slid her hands down to the fat bunching at the crease of your thighs. She pulled forward till your crotch was on hers and breaths became irregular.

“I missed you Els.” you said, before planting a juicy kiss onto her slightly chapped lips.

“Missed you too ___” she murmured between lips locking. “I was starting to think you hated me.” You pulled back quickly, both hands on her face. How could you ever dislike someone as perfect as Ellie? And how could you ever let her think that?

“Never baby, never.” you said, smooching the damp hairs on her head. “Let me make it up to you, okay?”

“Okay.” She agreed and the kissing resumed but this time on her neck. Wet, purple marks of your doing sent butterflies to Ellie’s stomach, and as you started to roll your hips her head flew back with a gasp. She quickly caught on, gripping your sides to assist the fervent grinding. Your fingers traveled down her abs, tracing the v-line, before finding themselves in the vats of her boxers.

“Is this okay Els?”

“Yes, yes please” she gasped. You dipped down further and were greeted with strings of slick and Ellie already bumping against you for pressure.

You gave a sly smile, “All this for me?” She nodded, almost proud at her quick arousal. “Here lie back and let's take these off. I’m gonna take care of you tonight.” Ellie of course followed in suit, scooching against the headboard and revealing her bare cunt. On all fours, you climbed towards her with the intent to please and only that. She slammed her lips into yours as soon as you were in reach, it was impatient and primal– a side you rarely saw from Ellie. Through breaks of tongue, teeth, and spit you discarded any and all clothes covering your flesh.

The sight of your breasts quickly shifted Ellie’s attention. Goosebumps exploded up your body when she soon took them in her grabby hands. She twisted at your hard nipples as your hands found their way back down to her anticipating folds. Your fingers split between middle and ring then gliding through Ellie’s slick, capturing her bundle of nerves with each pass. The pleasure was indescribable except through the gasps and moans she was making into your mouth. Coated in Ellie, you couldn’t help wiping her mess across the expanse of your tongue and sucking it clean.

“You taste fucking perfect.” you elated and Ellie went red. She wasn’t used to dirty talk like this. In all honesty, she wasn’t used to any of it. But god was she willing to learn. With a short preview of her taste, you inched down to try the real thing. You couldn’t wait any longer and pushed up and open at the girls knees to get a better angle. Her hole clenched in prospect as you playfully ghosted your lips past her clit a couple of times.

Finally taking it between your lips Ellie’s eyes completely rolled back, jaw going slack. You gave a gentle suck before sticking out your tongue to make slow, tight circles. This one really drove her wild which you noted from the arch of her back and guttural moans echoing off the walls.

“Els baby, you gotta be quiet for me.” She whined at your request, however complied. There’s no way you were getting caught with your tongue inside the next door neighbor, but god were her little noises music to your ears.

Next came your fingers and she squirmed with the insertion of the middle one. You pumped in and out slowly and it was obvious that Ellie was trying her best to keep quiet. She was practically drawing blood from the strong bite she had on her bottom lip, whimpering ever so often.

Rubbing circles at her thigh and adding another finger, you praised, “You’re being such a good girl for mommy.” Ellie’s hips jolted, and olive-colored eyes went wide at the name– something she never thought would turn her on. It was something that had just slipped from your lips, too caught up in the moment, but now that it was out in the air it just made you all the more wet. Your pace picked up and it grew harder to penetrate through the desperate clenches of her walls. You took it as a challenge and added your mouth back into the mix, really trying to push her to the limits.

“Ahh f- fuck” she cursed out with ramblings of your name. Knowing how good you made her feel drove you crazy, and through swipes of tongue and fingers you found yourself grinding into the stiff mattress below. Ellie was obsessed with the way you rocked your hips and even sat up a little bit to get a better view. This, combined with the work you were doing on her core, forced her to the brink of satisfaction. Her stomach sucked in tight, feeling the build-up of pleasure inside.

“J- just like that, a- almost there-” she sobbed through the wet squelches of her folds.

“You gonna say please for me?” you questioned, slowing down your movements just enough to make her listen.

Stuttering through it she obeyed, “P-please mommy, please c- can I cum?”

“Go ahead baby.” Just hearing those words made you almost gush right along with her so you rewarded the girl with an unfaltering pace. Ellie was right where you wanted her, clenching every muscle at the bliss you so graciously gave her. With your thumb on her clit and fingers curling up to hit just the right spot, she buckled along with attempts to muffle the groans she couldn't hold in any longer.

“Shit, I- I’m cu-cumming.” Her thighs flew shut but you quickly parted them back as you coached her through the euphoric feeling.

“You’re doing so fucking amazing Els.” You planted kisses across her thighs as she rode out her orgasm to a limp state. Ellie had yet to open her eye’s after the second finger and was still coming back down to Earth. Climbing up the bed to lay next to her, you brushed all the hair stuck in the girl's freckles, occasionally giving a slight peck of comfort. She finally fluttered her lids open and her pupils exploded with love. No one had ever taken care of her so well, and she’d thank you for it until the end of time.

✄ - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

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lonelywitchv2 · 10 months

Text

Starboy

WOAH i'm back. unfortunately, i'm not back with what you guys wanted (part 3 of strawberries, i haven't forgotten), but i finally got over my writer's block!!! anyways. here is another Regulus fic <3 and it's based on (you'll literally find half of the lyrics worked into this fic) Stargirl by Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd but i changed the title to starboy because no one actually says stargirl because it doesn't make sense (just like math)!

wc: 884

cw: pure smut, no plot whatsoever, no lead up to the smut, it starts with fucking but does end with fluff(!), choking (i went a bit crazy), some cheesiness (don't laugh, it's supposed to be a kicking-your-feet-and-giggling kind of cheesiness but i don't really write that 😭), overstimulation, this bitch never pulls out but he's wearing an unmentioned condom, cursing (obvi), having sex on the kitchen counters and tbh i was imagining this as being the counters of a kitchen in one of the houses that the Blacks owned (not 12, Grimmauld Place bc it's kinda creepy), um i think that's it.

enjoy!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

It was then, in the low lighting of the kitchen, that Regulus knew that you were the center of his universe. The moon lit up your face, which was covered in beads of sweat that traveled down your face and dripped from your neck to your exposed breasts.

“Don’t stop, Reg- oh,” A moan interrupted your words, but Regulus understood. He didn’t want to stop, anyway, his own pleasure was overwhelming his body.

He leaned down, mouth attaching to your neck as he sucked a hickey onto the soft, damp skin. You both knew you’d have to cover it up in the morning to avoid questions, but you let him tease you with the occasional soft bite that made your breath catch in your throat. The teasing bites and his deep thrusts had your hands gripping the counter, nails scratching the marble as you uselessly searched for a grip.

One of your hands drifted up towards Regulus’ neck, gently tugging it away from your neck as you brought his face to your own, desperately kissing him, drowning out both of your moans. Subconsciously, you found your hand, which you had yet to move, softly squeezing his neck, grinning into the kiss when you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Can’t say I was expecting you to like that so much,” you murmured against his lips, a smirk gracing your features.

“Please….” Regulus whimpered, a sound that seemed to push every ounce of air right out of your lungs.

You removed your second hand from the counter, biting your lip when Regulus’ dick started to slip out of you as you sat up. The sensation of slight emptiness was short-lived, ending when Regulus wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you forward until he was deep inside you, moans escaping from both of you as you arched your back. While Regulus was still weakly recovering, your hand that wasn’t around his neck trailed up his torso, passing his choked neck and up to his face. Your thumb traced his plump, reddened lips before sliding right between them and into his mouth. His eyes raised to meet yours as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked your finger, muffling the groans coming up from his throat.

“I never would’ve thought that Regulus Black, heir to the noble House of Black, would be begging for me to choke him,” you said with a triumphant grin, “how would your ancestors feel if they knew what you were doing right now?”

You both knew the question was rhetorical, especially because Regulus’ brain seemed to have short-circuited to the point where it was unlikely that he would be able to form a full sentence, with all the knowledge that he was known for slipping out of his mind with each thrust into you. You could feel his high approaching, prompting you to remove your finger from his mouth, a small smirk spreading across your face when you saw his jaw go completely slack while moans poured out of his open mouth.

“Come with me,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him close to you and tightening the grip on his neck ever so slightly.

Regulus’ hips stuttered as he came, your high following right after. You dropped your hands onto Regulus’ shoulders and clung to him, nails digging into his pale skin as he kept fucking you through your climax, but still after.

“Fuck, Regulus!” you called out, tears of pleasure spilling out of your eyes at the sensation of your second high hitting you like a freight train. You looked up at Regulus, seeing his dark eyes watery with tears as he came again.

“Holy shit,” Regulus murmured collapsing on top of you as you lowered your body until you were laying flat on the counter, the cool marble a stark contrast from your burning hot, sweaty bodies.

“You did so good, Reg,” you whispered affectionately, looking down at Regulus as you combed your fingers through his hair. He looked as if he was glowing under the moonlight, his pale skin and the droplets of sweat on his body only adding to the effect.

“I love you,” Regulus said into the darkness, listening to your pounding heart as he rested his head on your breasts.

“Do you love me or being choked by me?” you asked teasingly, sitting up on your elbows with Regulus slipping his hands beneath your back to support your body, which was also supporting his.

“Both,” he answered with a grin, pulling you back into a sitting position and kissing you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grasped at his hair, trying to get as close as possible to Regulus, even though his cock was still resting inside of you.

“And I love you,” you kissed him once more with a quiet giggle, “my starboy.”

“Your starboy?” Regulus asked pulling away from you.

“You’re a star, you’re a boy, and you’re mine. It adds up, love,” you answered, rubbing the nail indents on his shoulders.

“You’re the center of my universe,” Regulus declared.

“Always making it into a competition,” you joked, pulling him close to you and resting your head on his chest, listening to the still slightly erratic beating of his heart, “but you’re still the center of my universe too.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#regulus black x reader #marauders x reader #regulus x reader #marauders fanfiction #regulus black #regulus smut #regulus x reader smut #forgive me for i have sinned by writing this fic

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badaspebble · 10 months

Note

ah i’m loving your writing~!! i would like to request something where reader is a trainee on a survival show, since swf dancers often become judges, bada being a judge/mentors, and maybe reader gives her secret love letters? or flirts with her off camera because she has a crush. it doesn’t haven’t to be a whole oneshot or something headcanons would be cool too ! ty~

✎ To My Secret Admirer

A/N: Hey babe! Thank you for the compliment and the ask 🫶🏽. I hope you’re doing well. This is like super short and rushed I’m sorry :(

Warnings: Swearing. It’s all just fluff.

Bada Lee x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Who am I?” Those are the first thoughts you had when you saw her. She was beautiful. Absolutely fucking captivating. Her tall stature made her seem unapproachable, but Bada was really just a giant puppy. Who were you? A contestant who was hopelessly in love with this woman. You were somebody that couldn’t have her, right? You pondered on that thought until you were reminded of the way her face would light up when she found your notes towards her. Your notes, not anybody else’s. Of course, she didn’t actually know it was from you, but let’s be honest. You’re way too obvious when you’re around her.

Tripping over nothing? Are you serious? Stuttering when you’re trying to impress her? Lord. Even if she was blind with no sense of anybody taking a liking to her, she would still know it was from you. Might as well write your name on them too. It wasn’t long until you remembered that did actually know.

The little glances towards you, along with the way she’d take any chance to be in contact with you…it made you keep going. You were glad you did, because you started receiving notes too. They weren’t much, but every single word that was written on them really brightened your day.

It would be stuff like “You look so beautiful today,” or funnier ones like “Your hair looks so good! (Please kiss me)” and “Tbh you shouldn’t let others perceive you in my honest, humble opinion that is not biased :)”

You especially loved those ones. Communicating through notes was good at first, but you craved her direct attention. You wanted her eyes on you, wanted her to smile while talking to you.

You’ve been recently feeling very courageous, sending more bold things her way. You’ve even left your lipstick mark on your newest letters. You figured since she basically already knew, might as well go up to her.

Your eyes were glued onto her as you walked up, ignoring the conversation she’s having. Which was a bit rude, but who knows when you’ll be this brave again. You took a deep breath as she turned to you, and swallowed harshly.

“H-“ Your voice cracked, embarrassing you even further. You both just stared at each other after that, with Bada trying not to laugh and you trying not to run away while looking at her blankly.

You didn’t try to speak again, but Bada thankfully spoke up. “Hey..” She smirked, holding in her laugh. Your voice was cute, and it still sounded cute with your voice crack. You were adorable. “How’s your routine going?” She asked, still smiling bright while trying not to laugh.

You swallowed again, threatening whichever higher being that existed to not let you embarrass yourself again. “It’s good…uhm it would’ve been better if you were there to help..” You coughed awkwardly.

Bada looked at you, slowly letting her smile brighten even more, if that was even possible. “Was that your attempt at flirting?” She said with a giggle.

You just looked at her and pursed your lips. “Anyways..” You said, turning your body around and walking away.

You heard Bada’s laughter behind you as it slowly got louder the closer she got. “Don’t run!” More laughter followed. “I thought it was cute, I pinky promise.” She grabbed your arm, turning you around to meet her twinkling eyes. “How about I teach you some stuff later? My studio is just around the corner.”

You looked up at her, letting a shy smile take over your face. “Are you sure that’s even allowed? You’re gonna get me kicked off this thing.” You say jokingly, avoiding her stare.

“I won’t let them. Don’t tell anybody but…you’re my favorite.” She leaned in to whisper jokingly, before she giggled.

Swallowing harshly, you finally met her eyes. “Okay..” You mumbled, still a little bit unsure. You felt her pat your head, subtly messing up your hair and running away as you noticed. “Hey! Bada??” You yell out, hearing her giggles down the hallway.

Sighing, you fixed your hair as you felt your heartbeat increase. Would she actually take the time out of her day to teach you? Are you guys just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been sending letters to each other? You laughed at that, not realizing how weird it sounded out loud.

You sat on the ground next to the set, realizing you don’t have her number nor do you have the location of her studio. “Am I a dumbass?” You laughed at yourself, probably looking crazy as hell. You were about to get up and wallow in your self pity as you walked home until you heard a motorcycle in the distance. It rolled up to you before slowly stopping. You were about to tell them to fuck off before they took their helmet off, revealing Bada.

“Are we in a movie?” Was the first thing you said. “This is the most cliche thing ever.” You continued saying, looking at her in disbelief. Her smile graced her face as she laughed. “Just get on, I promise it’s not that far.”

She handed you a helmet as you looked at her in even more disbelief. “Girl…” You mumbled, putting the helmet on and sitting behind her. She started off going slow before revving her bike and going faster. “How do you even know my head size? That’s very weird of you.” You yelled so she could hear you over the wind.

Silence followed, and you guess she might’ve not heard you. “…Next question.” You finally heard her mumble. You laughed, the arms holding her waist securely started to hug her tighter as you rested your head on her back despite the helmet. It was quiet the rest of the way, both of you just basking in the comfort of each other.

It wasn’t long before you made it to her studio. She was fast as she got off her bike, taking her helmet off before pulling you off too. You giggled despite yourself, loving how unnecessary that entire act was.

Bada played it cool after that. “Yeah I’m like super strong and stuff. I workout occasionally…you know.”

You looked at her. So much for playing it cool. You tried really hard to keep in your laugh, your face turning red and your eyes looking anywhere but her.

“Interesting…” You said while giggling subtly. “Yeah..” Bada said with an awkward cough. “Anyways, let’s go in.” She hurriedly switched the subject, ushering the both of you inside. Once you both settled your stuff, you looked at each other. “Soooo…” You looked around.

Bada looked at you sheepishly, looking kind of guilty. “To be honest, I only did this so I could spend time with you..” She mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy as she looked around.

Smiling, you sat on the floor facing the mirror. You patted the spot next to you. “So let’s get to know each other some more..”

Bada giggled again, looking like she just won a million bucks as she sat next to you. The night went on, as the both of you talked about anything. From favorite colors, to wondering if aliens exist, to theories about the multiverse.

“Do you think we’d meet in every universe?” You questioned. Bada looked at you, her eyes sparkling brightly as she took in you, your soul…your existence in her life. “I would hope so…I think you’re the only one I’d want to meet in every universe.”

She held your hand, interlocking your pinkies together as you guys giggle. “You're actually probably stalking me in every universe” Bada says jokingly.

You look at her with wide eyes and an offended expression. “Way to ruin the moment dummy..”

A/N: Tony Ann is so perfect to listen to whenever I write. Def check him out

#bada lee #bada x reader #bada lee swf #bada lee x reader #lee bada #bada lee swf2 #bada lee fluff #bada lee x fem reader #anon ask #fem!reader

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rentenwins · 1 month

Text

silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)

ch 1 • ch 2 • ch 3 • ch 4

synopsis: the boys catch onto what's happening. with a ittle jab and detective skills, and nothing that the ever-so-helpful taesan would do anything about it...

content: banter banter and banter!!, the bnd members <3, mild cursing, a lot of dialogue tbh, descriptions of food eating, taesan is a schemer ong, taesan and sungho are a cheeky duo, a very clueless jaehyun, woonhak n riwoo mention!!

a/n: this one is goofy... calm before the storm trust me on this one pls. if you would like to be part of my taglist to get notifs on a new chapter, please send an ask in my inbox <3 my updates are not the most consistent apologies :( but thank you for sticking around nonetheless!

wc: 1448

taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19 @luvvhaerin

chapter 3: i got a plan

“Bro, I’m being so serious.”

“Proof or it didn’t happen.”

“I LITERALLY CANNOT SO JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.”

Jaehyun seethes at Sungho across from him. The boys were at their usual outdoor cafe table, just outside the university. It was a miracle that they would get the same table almost every week.

“Woah, woah slow down. What’s going on?” Taesan suddenly appears and nudges Sungho to make room for himself at the table.

“Sungho’s not believing a word I say—“

“Believe it or not, it’s quite easy to.” Taesan replies nonchalant before Jaehyun gets a chance to defend himself.

“Oh my god, Taesan I will kick your ass.” Jaehyun groans while Sungho almost chokes on his drink and Taesan smirks.

Jaehyun was observant, but he was amazingly dense too. He was intelligent, but a bit too much speculation causes an inability to recognise the obvious in front of him. This was one of those cases.

After you had left Leehan’s place that evening, Jaehyun went over to Leehan’s to drop off dinner from Sungho since he hadn't had the time (or the budget really) for his grocery shopping just yet. So Jaehyun, the loving friend he was, kept the boy company for the evening while he was at it.

Sungho turns to Taesan, “Jaehyun said he found one of y/n’s containers in Leehan’s kitchen. So now he’s a little curious as to how it magically made its way there.” Jaehyun had oftentimes teased you for your mismatching containers, and the one he saw in Leehan’s apartment was definitely yours. Who else would’ve owned a container with a Pororo lid?

Taesan scoffs, “Y/n probably made cookies like she did last time for us. Remember that?” Sungho squints at Taesan before he remembers, “OH! THOSE! That makes a lot more sense.”

Jaehyun waves his arms dramatically in front of Sungho and Taesan. “Hello? What am I missing? Am I suddenly chopped liver to you all?”

“You know? Y/n’s cookies? The ones they make every now and then?” Sungho says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jaehyun looks like he’s been smacked across the face. “Why do I not know of this? What cookies are you two on about?”

Taesan rolls his eyes. “It’s y/n’s thing. They probably made them for Leehan since he just moved in and whatnot. Nothing too out of the blue.” Taesan nonchalantly says as he eats a cracker from his bag.

Just as Jaehyun was about to protest about his apparent lack of knowledge, a silent ‘yo’ came from beside him as the figure makes himself comfy in the chair beside Jaehyun.

“Speak of the devil…” murmurs Jaehyun as he leans back in his chair, not loud enough for Leehan to hear but enough for Sungho to almost choke on his drink again. Leehan feels the stares on him as he opens his little blue container of… cookies? Dipped with chocolate?

You loved making cookies for your friends, and Taesan knew it was a way for you to blow off steam. One time last semester, during submission week, you were so stressed that you stress-baked three batches of chocolate cookies and gave a whole load of it to Taesan and Sungho. Taesan had so much he had to give some to his other neighbours, Woonhak and Riwoo, just so they'd still be enjoyed fresh.

And yet, with all the baking you've done, Taesan has never seen chocolate dipped cookies since the day Woonhak started senior high school. It wasn't long ago, but you had sworn that they were 'too messy' and you were 'never going to do it again unless it was as special' as that day.

“Aha!” Jaehyun leaps from his seat, other tables turn to look at Jaehyun’s unwarranted reaction as Leehan almost drops the cookie he had just bit into. Leehan’s bewilderment was understated: he stared at Jaehyun, then at Taesan and Sungho looking amused at his container of cookies. Sungho elbows Taesan and he slaps him back.

“Is there something on my face?” Leehan murmurs, and when no one gave him an answer he took a bite of the cookie. He looks at Jaehyun, who finally sat back in his seat after his mini freakout. Sungho swears he could see stars form in Leehan's eyes as he chewed the sweet treat.

“So y/n’s baking isn’t bad huh?” Sungho breaks the silence, Taesan barely suppresses a smirk next to him.

“Yeah!” Leehan replies enthusiastically, not quite looking up at Sungho. There was a smile that reached his eyes as he spoke, “these really remind me of these butter cookies I used to have back in Busa— wait, y/n?”

This time, Taesan actually laughs. Jaehyun looks on, confused. Leehan turns red, “Hold on... how'd you know it was from y/n?”

If he was an outsider, Sungho would think this mini interrogation was too much. But alas, what’s a little friendship without a little jabbing here and there?

Sungho shrugs and sits back in his chair, “Eh, just a little hunch.” Taesan lightly smacks Sungho's arm.

Frankly, Leehan was stunned and didn’t know what to say. So he did what any other person would do and continued to eat his little cookies and scrolled through his phone. Though the redness in his ears never really went away.

Why did he blush when Taesan and Sungho mentioned your name? I mean, the cookies were good.

“Jae, you good bro?” Taesan eyed the uncharacteristically quiet boy next to Leehan, who seemed to be staring at Leehan’s (read: your) cookies. Jaehyun looked at Taesan, then Sungho, then the cookies again before his eyes went comically wide.

“OH I GET IT NOW!” Jaehyun says a bit too enthusiastically again as he pretends to smack his head with a closed fist, eyes squinted as he finally realised why they were teasing Leehan in the first place.

Taesan couldn’t help but remain bemused as he looked at Leehan, almost apprehensive in giving Jaehyun one of his cookies.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Jaehyun playfully shoves Leehan, “just one cookie I promise! y/n’s your neighbour, she could probably make some for you anytime!”

“Then why haven’t they given you any, Jae?”

“Shut up, you nerd!”

———

It was a given that interior design was a pain. Yet here you are, studying interior design in university, where your budget was blown for art supplies, and throwing your pride away so you could walk down the street with unnecessarily large poster boards under your arm.

“So where are my cookies?” is the first thing you hear when you stop at the stoplight on your way back home.

“Your what now?” is your reply to Taesan, who was at the stoplight before you were. You were too checked out from a long day of classes to realise it was him standing there. You threw him an incredulous look.

“Cookies? Butter cookies? Seriously, I didn’t even know you made those. And the chocolate? You hate washing dishes and yet you decide to go the extra mile and dip the damn cookies in the chocolate.” Taesan drawls teasingly in a way that he knew pissed you off the most. You roll your eyes,

“If you’re talking about the cookies he made Leehan, then yes. I made him some damn housewarming cookies dipped in chocolate. You know, get him settled. What’s the deal?”

Taesan laughs a little as he reminisces the scene at the cafe earlier, “He brought some with him today and it was the happiest I’ve seen him. Probably ever, if I’m being real. Or maybe since he's moved here.”

You glance at Taesan before failing to suppress your laugh, “Nice try. Taesan, if you’re trying to do what I think you’re trying to do—“

“Woah, woah! Who said anything about me? I’m just relaying you… some… important information. You know, maybe... to your benefit" He stage whispers the last few words.

“What’s so important about my cookies then?” This is going nowhere. You have never wanted that damn stoplight to turn green so badly in your life.

“I got a hunch. A big one. I suggest you take my advice if you want this to go… somewhere.” And with perfect timing, the stoplight turns green and Taesan walks off.

A hunch? My cookies, neighbour, Leeha—

“Taesan!" The board under your arm almost slips when you take a step forward, " Get bac—my god, we live in the same building. Come back here!”

Taesan decided you suddenly didn’t exist when he walked off (in the most friendly way possible, of course). He pulls out his phone and texts Sungho,

‘I got a plan’

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sco07ut · 5 months

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how did i feel about the way rvb19 treated iys female characters:

dylan: weird???? she felt so mischaracterised. between that and the new voice she fully felt like a new character ☹️ it also felt like she was forced in for like no reason. in s15 she seemed to be like a pretty esteemed journalist so idk why she would be stammering on stage in a nearly empty comic con. peculiar and i think they could’ve made the intro so much better if it had been a bit more like s15. dylan having some sort of interview maybe, talking about the disappearance of the rnbs and still getting cut off by the meta but in a way that like actually feels like her ? like she wasn’t particularly afraid of spencer porkinsensen (or whatever the fuck he was called)

kai: i was hoping she’d get a cameo but christ not that short. where in the name of god was my kai + grif interaction. i also think she could’ve killed the meta with sheer cunt force alone, my girl was held back !!!! also so disappointed that she never got to see tex again

sheila: i was not expecting you!!!! but it’s so good to see you again. did they rescue her from charon or something?? honestly quite sweet.

479er: Really wasn’t expecting you ! she contributed to the plot really nicely, it didn’t feel like she was forced in at all. it would’ve been nice to see more of her though, i feel like her scenes happened Very quickly. i also would’ve loved to see her interact with the other freelancers (particularly carolina and tex) but whatever i can’t complain too much about her

grey: what did they do to you!!!!!!! who are you!!!!! you are not the emily grey i know and love!! you would have so much more consideration for wash ☹️ another case of being mischaracterised so bad that i fully didn’t realise it was grey until wash said her name. this might also be because the infinite armour looks absolutely nothing like her but i don’t know jack abt infinite so i can’t really say anything

tex: I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I CANNOT BELIEVE RT ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGED HER PAST ENDING WAS SO DIRTY. wish she had maybe had a small conversation with the rnbs but honestly her saying ‘and in their memories i always kicked their asses’ was enough. she knows she’s the woman ever. i wasn’t expecting her to get sucked into the unit though :( like i suppose it makes sense to let her finally rest with whatever iteration of church was created when the ais merged but man i was looking forward to her joining the rnbs again and like idk getting to know her daughter properly this time?? severely missing tex and carolina content

carolina: where did you even come from girl!! where were you before you dropped out of the sky!!!!! i also wish she had spoke to the others & had like an actual scene where she was told sarge was dead bc they had like a weird little friendship going on and he’s just gone !! i feel like she barely did anything. she just dropped into the fight, did fuck all, and then revealed that wash has apparently been hallucinating the dead body of doc. erm

bonus ct + south: ct’s speech was alr i guess it wasn’t particularly memorable but it was nice that she was included tbh. though i was surprised south was in the freelancer lineup given she lowk bullied wash idk

in conclusion: my girls deserved better

#red vs blue #rvb restoration spoilers #rvb s19 spoilers

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bunnyywritings · 5 months

Text

to be seen...

BAKUGOU KATSUKI X GN!READER

[a/n: i lowkey love the hc that bakugou is partially deaf/hard of hearing cause of his quirk like...it just makes so much sense to me ?? anyways i just wanted to get this one out of my system! it's not the best so...sorry but yeah...enjoy!! - bunny]

wc: 1.6k words

warnings: none that i can think of...kinda angsty tbh, there's also more of a focus on bakugou than reader

This couldn’t be real.

He’s not weak so…why?

Why did this happen?

Bakugou’s hands shook as these merciless thoughts ran through his head as Doctor’s poked and prodded at his ears. Their touch was bothersome but he supposed he was grateful he couldn’t really hear what they were discussing, any tangible noise was muddy and replaced by a ceaseless ringing.

He had gone through all the motions. Denial being the most violent. He had screamed and cried in a clearing a ways away from the dorms where he had thought that no one would hear him but when he returned and immediately clocked your glossy eyes and trembling bottom lip, he realized how mistaken he was.

Oh, you. Sweet, caring, you.

He almost felt guilty for how much he had pushed you away. All you wanted to do was make sure he knew he wasn’t alone, make sure he felt loved and cared for but he mistook your empathy for pity and blew up at you. This time around it was much, much louder and much more terrifying because he couldn’t hear how loud and rude he was really being.

He had scoffed when you clutched your fists to your side as big fat tears rolled down your cheeks. He couldn’t read lips very well but he didn’t need to when the word ‘mean’ had been formed so clearly by your lips before you ran off to your room.

Now, he was just numb. Having accepted that this was his reality, Doctor’s poking and prodding and the uneasy sight of his mother so broken and…sad. Having to practically be held up by his father.

This wasn’t right. She wasn’t weak. She was never weak but once again, he had mistaken her love and empathy for pity…for weakness.

School had been on break for the spring and he was desperate to get back, he was being run through the wringer and as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted the mundane rhythm of his life back. He wanted to attend his classes again. Quirk training. English. Hero Law.

He actually missed those idiots he calls friends. To sit with them in the cafeteria and hear about the stupid shojo that Denki was reading. Hear how Kiri can’t beat some boss level on the stupid game he was playing. Hear Mina complain about how her cuticles were as healthy as ever. Hear Jiro ramble on about a new band she found and how she thinks he’d actually like them.

Hear…

Would he still be able to do any of that?

He couldn’t quite remember what his condition was. The ringing was gone but all that's left is a muffled sea of jumbled up noises. He was getting better at reading lips and he was put through the master class of sign language in a week. His instructor was surprised but he knew that if you had been there, you would’ve given him a bashful smile and said, “I expected nothing less from our future top hero.”

Ah, that’s right.

Most of all, he missed you.

Your smile. Your wit. Your eyes…the very same ones he made shine with tears. Your laugh…the sound he’d miss the most out of anything.

Despite having left the way he did, you still texted him. He hadn’t responded but you still thought about him.

“You’re doing an awful lot for a guy who told you to piss off…” Shoji eyed you carefully as you set up the classroom, helping you place workbooks on the desks and open the windows.

“Yeah but you know as well as I do that Bakugou uses anger like a shield. He’s probably confused and in pain about all of this, it’s only fair that we help out as much as we can.”

Your caring nature was worrying sometimes. Shoji had seen your heart shattered multiple times by people who brush you off or take advantage of your willingness to do hard work, he was worried that Bakugou didn’t deserve this kindness.

He remembered holding you as you sobbed into his chest, it took everything in him to not run out to the common room and knock some sense into the blonde but ultimately, he decided that staying and comforting you was more important.

And despite all that pain he caused you had gone straight to Principle Nezu and pleaded for the school’s help. Going as far as offering to do all the work in finding an instructor and getting all your classmates on board. Now, here you were setting up the classroom for the first day of sign language classes.

The Friday before school started up again, Mitski got a call from the specialist they had been working with and with the influence of UA, Bakugou’s hearing aids were ready for him. She was ecstatic, enthusiastically waking her son and shouting at him to get ready.

He was…startled to say the least. If he had been able to hear the yelp he had let out when he was shaken awake, he surely would’ve been a bright red.

And so, with the promise of heading to a nice restaurant for breakfast before heading back home, Bakugou shoved himself into the backseat of the car and off they went.

The school had covered two pairs and he almost scoffed at the design of the devices. The first pair’s earpiece was clear, swirled with red and orange and the part that hooks around the ear, an almost gaudy, bright red-orange. The second was just his hero costume earpieces with hearing aids attached. Both pairs were specially made to muffle his explosions while still being able to hear others clearly. They also had a bluetooth feature so he’d be able to listen to music comfortably.

The doctor and his parents looked on expectantly as Bakugou slipped them on for the first time, surprised by how comfortable they were. He switched them on with shaky hands and everyone waited in silence before he looked into his mother’s teary eyes.

“Katsuki…honey? Can you hear me?”

His eyes widened. Had her voice always been so tender?

It brought tears to his eyes, he got up from the uncomfortable exam table, fists clenched at his sides. She looked up at him from her seat and her face crumbled. His eyebrows were pinched, a pitiful frown on his wobbling lips and tears slowly leaking from his eyes.

“Oh, honey…” He threw himself into her embrace and cried into her neck like he had done many times when he was little. Masaru watched on in tearful wonder, remembering that this was still his son. His baby boy and he was hurting more than he let on. Shouldering an exhaustingly heavy burden on his shoulders all by himself.

The image of his little boy, only 4 feet tall tearfully struggling to hold a boulder up above his head, arms and legs trembling with exhaustion and desperately calling out for his mommy and daddy shook him to his core.

He wrapped his arms around both of them, his hand cradling the back of Bakugou’s head. “It’s okay, son. We’ve got you.” At the sound of his father’s steady and calming voice, the boy cried harder. “We’ve got you.”

Standing in front of the dorms was more daunting than he thought it would be. Hiking up the steps was like attempting to trek Mt. Fuji. The only comfort being that he was expecting the common room to be empty. He expected everyone to be in their room attempting to settle back in after a week long break.

He hated how wrong he’s been recently.

When he opened the door, he was met with everyone cheering. It was all so loud and disorienting that, despite his hearing aids, he had no idea what the hell anyone had said. Then, you stepped through the crowd and suddenly everyone faded into the background.

“Guys! I thought I said no shouting! It’s probably still too much for him!”

“But you’re shouting right now…” Denki snickered, earning an unamused glare from you.

His eyes filled with tears, heart constricting in his chest. Twisting and throbbing almost painfully.

God, he missed you.

“So scary when you look at me like that!” Denki shuddered playfully.

You had opened your mouth to refute but were cut off by Bakugou suddenly roaring with laughter, squeaking the slightest bit as he hunched over, arms wrapped around his middle as he laughed.

Shock ran through everybody’s spines, jaws on the floor.

He wasn’t quite sure what came over him but it was an involuntary reaction. Maybe to camouflage the fact that he had a river of tears sliding down his chin.

Once he had finished, he stood upright. Out of breath and wiping his eyes. Meeting your eyes once again made the butterflies in his stomach go berserk. They went downright psycho when your hands were held up in front of you, trembling as you carefully signed, ‘welcome home.’

He was silent once again. Absolutely dumbstruck.

Midoriya watched on fondly, as did everyone, emotions overwhelming and tears filling their eyes.

Bakugou was in complete disbelief.

“When…” He breathed, hands coming up to sign the rest. ‘When did you learn that?’

It took you a second to register what he said before responding. ‘We learn over break…’ your signing was a little sloppy, he had missed a few things but caught on immediately at the end, ‘...love you. Want you feel normal as possible.’

He didn’t let you finish, grabbing you into his embrace and holding you tight. “Thank you.” He mumbled into your hair, you held on equally as tight.

“You’re welcome.” Your voice so up close and intimate was a blessing.

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki angst

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rosemariad · 11 days

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SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - THE BITTER END - SERIES FINALE

We finally made it here.

Ooooooooh boy. 😬

The opening for THE series finale felt out of place to me.

You’re gonna waste minutes on this really?

How about a discussion about how they beat God, like they actually managed the impossible - 2 dudes just take the fight to the OG master & creator of the universe and won that shit with some plan they pulled outta their asses. Their surrogate child went on to become the next primordial being to reign over the universe. But no, we’re not gonna even talk about any of that.

Coulda done a million different things even with the COVID restrictions (the two actors in a room across a table, do whatever to keep them safe) but whatever 🤦🏾‍♀️

So after God comes vampires w/ masks? Really SPN?

The minute Dean slammed the Impala’s trunk shut after sundown made me nervous (that would be the last time he’s with his Impala, the last time he ever sees her w/ his own eyes 🥺😭)

Out of all the folks to pull outta the SPN peanut gallery you pick that random chick from 1x19?! Jenny?! Just to kill her off anyway (so I spoke too soon, vampJenny is the official last female to die on this show)

Ah…the nail of imminent demise

That final shot of Sam & Dean was toooo fucking intimate.

Suddenly the Wincest people aren’t so crazy. Why are y’all encouraging this?! Dude, they’re brothers!?! #brothersnotlovers. They could’ve done it like the end of Pearl Harbor where they got Ben Affleck crying over Josh Harnett’s body in the crash. Gimme weepy Sam, that Oscar moment. Dean died sooo young 🥺😒 younger than Mary (I know she was technically in her thirties but TBH she was 64/65), bobby, Rufus, Ellen & John. This is why we can’t have nice things😔

Cas is gonna be so saaaad. He always fought so hard for Dean's sake, only for the guy to die so young…it’s an insult - an outrage really. Dean fought so hard for so long only for him to say - it was always gonna end this way?! 😡

He didn’t have to make it to old age (though he deserved to) but don’t let him die like this. All accepting so soon after resolving the meta plot 😔 there were things Dean probably wanted to do and now, he’ll never get his chance. He could’ve settled down with someone (it wouldn’t have been Cas since he got killed off already but shit I would’ve settled for Dean to settle with anyone for a minute, like Sam did) - also would’ve been nice to hear from Jody or Donna and others one last time but hey fuck the side characters 🤣 (oh COVID the scapegoat that keeps on giving - it’s like the showrunners forgot the convenience of modern technology).

So Chuck definitely won - he's no longer burdened by having to deal w/ the universe and one of the Winchesters died anyway. Not exactly as planned but they never broke free, not really. I totally subscribe to this theory. Especially since it’s alluded to that Dean Jr - Sam’s son - is a hunter also at the time of Sam’s death by old age (we think…I’m just saying that’s an awful not of tubes and stuff for the old man, maybe just to monitor his heart rate/health - eh)

The Sam wig is bad but eh - doesn’t bother me - we’re talking about a CW show wrapping up a project, it’s not the end of the world people, the plot is what matter s and the plot here is a fucking shit show my lord. It’s not the first show to suffer a shit ending to a show that captivated worldwide audiences but damn this is a bummer.

Especially since it’s alluded to that Dean Jr - Sam’s son - is a hunter also at the time of Sam’s death by old age (we think…I’m just saying that’s an awful not of tubes and stuff for the old man, maybe just to monitor his heart rate/health - eh) But yay for Sam apparently - couldn’t think of a better name for your son than Dean Jr.? It only makes sense to make the kid a junior if it was Dean’s actual kid, like Dean would’ve been Dean Sr. And his boy would’ve been Dean Jr. or Dean W. The II. And and hello there women whose face we don’t get to see (really committing to limiting women’s presence in the show - again probably blaming in on COVID but if you have a literal baby with this giant man, you can chance a woman being there in an actual camera shot where we can see her face 🙄) Back to Dean - again cuz of COVID? I guess - we don’t get to see him reunite with anyone (not his MOM even?) except Bobby for like 1 second and then he’s just driving around in his car. No roadhouse, no fishing, nothing but sitting in his car, alone killing time until Sam inevitably returns to him.

Oh what a shame…

So that happened I guess. SPN was something else, for better or worse. Probably never gonna get a show like that again. They tried it with the Winchesters spin off about a supposed alternate universe MaryxJohn thing and friends but honestly if its not about the Winchesters brothers or Destiel who cares 🤣 they pretty much wrapped up Sam & Dean’s stories thanks to this finale but Dean (per the Winchesters flop) could be brought back into the fray somehow if they wanted - but hey that’s what fanfiction’s for 😁

Well SPN it’s been interesting…sort of.

On that note…

I wanna thank the fans of the show, your hot takes, memes and general fervor over this show/story is what finally made me watch it all. Cuz I remember the TV spots from back in the day, cruising the CW channel on weeknights after school. I was too busy watching other shows to give SPN a chance while it aired. So thank you 🙏🏽

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #brothersnotlovers #the winchester family #the winchester brothers #rip adam #deancas #destiel #jack kline #chuck shurley #chuck won theory #chuck won #spn finale #spn final season #supernatural season 15 #spnfandom

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atsvmi · 1 year

Text

Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,�� you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock smut #bluelock smut #i’m going to walk away from this site for 48 hours out of shame #(me lying)

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cowboyfromh3ll · 11 months

Note

AHHHH FANTASTIC!!!!!!

okay so , I'll just send one for kieran.. I LOVE SEEING OTHeR PEOPLE WRITE FOR HIM BECAUSE I DO SO MUCH :) <3

so for a request, maybe it's after kieran gets off the tree, and the reader (either gender neutral or fem but its up to you! <3) notices he has a slight limp and he complains about his back hurting a bunch, so the reader is like

"well why don't you come to my tent tonight and i'll help you out?" and kieran (reluctantly) agrees , and supposedly he's just getting a back massage

so in the evening he goes to readers tent, they/she has a lantern and a bottle of oil and shes like "go on and take off your shirt", SEEMINGLY innocently (and it'd be better tbh if they/she didn't ACTUALLY have any intentions)

so he does and they start giving him a back massage, maybe straddling the back of his thighs as they do so and at first its quiet, and it feels SO. SO good and kieran moans by accident

and, they're like.. 😳 okay.. but they keep going and say nothing , and things start getting a bit more tense when he keeps moaning and reader feels him squirm and sees him trying to rut his hips into their cot ..

... and things get.. spicy...

THIS IS DEF NOT SELF INDULGENT AND I HOPE ITS NOT TOO MUCH!!!! I HOPE ITS OKAY TO ASK FOR THIS ITS TOTALLY OKAY IF NOT BUT PLEASE I'D LOVE TO SEE THIS AND YOU'RE WRITING IS AMAZING !!! TAKE YOUR TIME <333333 :(

Heaven Is A Bedroom

(Kieran Duffy x Fem!Reader Smut)

I didn't edit this 🖤

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Kieran was broken for good, though the weepy, petulant state he occupied for the first few weeks after being tied to the tree did thankfully fade. He’d been starved and humiliated, something you never partook in, but you did occasionally go and chat with him, offering him any food you did have. Admittedly, you had harbored disdain for Kieran initially, looking down on him for his status as an O’Driscoll, but it was only after seeing how pathetic of a state the man truly was in that you began pitying him. Even if others were around to watch you, you would unabashedly go over and clean Kieran up, spoon feeding him what you could, and talking to him about mundane little topics. You also hadn’t been shy about telling anyone who chastised you to fuck off, arguing that you were grown and could do what you wanted. Kieran himself had been hesitant to accept your services, who could blame him, but seeing how you were so passionate about doing it, and how he didn’t have many options, he took what he could from you.

You watched on in slight amusement as Bill terrorized Kieran, a burgeoning sense of annoyance rising in you when you saw him with glowing red shears in his hand. If it were anyone else, you would’ve swatted their hands away, but you did not want to deal with Bill. You couldn’t help but gasp and ogle when they forced Kieran’s pants down. Part of you wanted to yell at them to stop, another part of you wanted to laugh at just how unfortunate the situation was. It seemed as though every time Kieran’s pain and suffering reached its crescendo, it somehow managed to reach infinite more peaks. You dare not look at Kieran for too long, granting him some sort of dignity.

In a matter of minutes, Kieran had managed to find himself relieved from his restraints, being untied so he could lead a few of the men to who knows where. You watched on in vague interest, relieved he had managed to rid the camp of a few of the men. ‘If only he had taken Micah with him’ you thought. Besides your own catty thoughts, you made a mental note of Kieran’s limp. You smiled in excitement at the opening that presented itself to you. Offering a massage to Kieran might be another act of kindness you could grant him, helping him feel more at home. Perhaps Kieran’s hearty reserves of suffering made him pliable enough to accept such an invitation.

After their return to camp, you had been one of the first to hear from Arthur about Kieran’s brave act in saving him. Rather heroic for someone so callus he claimed. The story was quite delightful, certainly affirming the fact that he was deserving of a massage. A prize for such a victory you thought.

“Hey Kieran.” You approached him with a cup of coffee in hand. The way he turned to look at you was akin to a child being caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do, even though he was only brushing the horses.

“Oh, hey, (Name).” His voice cracked with nervous inflection. That same timid pronunciation that made you feel a sense of endearment for him.

“I heard about what you did today.” You smiled while taking a sip of your coffee. “Real brave of ya, saving the life of the camp’s big, strong man.” You giggled, motioning over towards Arthur.

“Yeah well, I feel like if I didn’t then Bill or John would’ve thought I was the one who killed Arthur then killed me…” He said sheepishly. The two of you stood there awkwardly, processing the morbid implications of his remark. Kieran wanted to slap himself.

“But uh, I managed to gain my freedom! In a way, even though I’m not allowed outside of camp, at least I’m not tied to that tree anymore. They almost let me go entirely, but I had to argue with ‘em a bit…” You nodded in understanding. Kieran was right, a decent point of contention was the fact that he saved Arthur’s life. And was riding with the gang not more freeing than the gripping fear of looming death by Colm O’Driscoll himself had he not continued to stay with the gang?

“Well I noticed you were limping there.” You pointed out his awkward gait, circling your finger as you looked at his legs.

“Yeah well, being tied to a tree ain’t too comfortable. My back hurts real bad.” Kieran stretched, and as if on cue, his back cracked painfully loud, causing you to wince.

“Well if you’d like, I can give you a massage.”

The forwardness of your request caused Kieran to choke on his own spit, and you watched on in concern as he gripped his chest, doubling over as he tried to gather himself. His face flushed so hard you thought something might rupture if any more blood arrived.

“If you’d like of course… you don’t gotta… accept.”

“No! No, I mean, I’d appreciate it very much, yes.” He interjected, nodding overzealously. You smiled in satisfaction, nodding to yourself.

“Alright then! I’ll see you in my tent tonight.”

If anyone were around you and heard that sentence they might have thought you were inviting Kieran to sleep with you. Kieran seemed to have had the same thought when he realized how suggestive the invitation sounded, but he did not want to pop your bubble of obliviousness. Nor did he think that’s what you were suggesting anyways. Kieran was at least given something to look forward to that night.

Upon his arrival to your tent, he might as well have been greeted by you stark naked. Because in seeing the low light of the singular oil lamp and the bottle of oil, his mind went straight to the gutter. Though your enthusiasm to help overrode any sensual thoughts he might’ve had. Your wide smile and rosy cheeks looked far too innocent to be entertaining such thoughts.

“Hey Kieran!” You greeted, patting the cot next to you. You rested on your knees, waiting for Kieran to make himself comfortable. He continued to stand at the flaps of your tent in consideration, giving this whole ordeal a second thought. He definitely wanted it, but he had never had this done to him before; he simply didn’t want to embarrass himself. Adding to that, what if this whole proposition was part of some twisted, elaborate prank you had set up with a few of the others to embarrass him.

“Get in here already!” You ushered, dragging him in by the arm, effectively leaving any doubts he had outside the tent. He laughed dryly to himself, feeling his muscles tense up even more. He stood there awkwardly, as if he were instructed to carry out a bank robbery and was sent in without a single instruction; he didn’t know what to do.

“Take off your shirt.” You instructed, opening the bottle of oil and rubbing it on your hands. The glowing light from the lamp gave your hands an orange glow. The instruction caused Kieran’s mind to go to the gutter once again. Shakily, he began unbuttoning the front of his shirt, his eyes darting from his shirt then to you with each button he undid. As more of his torso was revealed, he began to fidget uncomfortably. He felt your eyes boring through his torso as he slid his shirt off hesitantly. After weeks of malnourishment, he had suddenly become incredibly self conscious of his body. He looked back up at you once again and felt a small sense of relief when he saw your smile.

“Alright, now lay down.” You patted the cot once again and moved aside to make room for him to climb on. He grunted as he adjusted himself, letting out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding when he relaxed his limbs and released his full weight onto the cot. His muscles went rigid when he felt you move onto his back, straddling the back of his thighs and putting your body weight on him.

He pushed himself up with his forearms frantically, looking back at you.

“W-W-Wait what are you doing?!” He swallowed hard, beginning to tremble. He felt as though you might call Bill or Arthur in any second now.

“I’m just getting into position! Relax…” Kieran’s eyes widened when your slipper hands slid onto his shoulders, giving them a squeeze before gently pushing his chest back against the cot again. You realized how much he was trembling, pursing your lips when you realized how much work you had to do.

“Alright…” He tried to relax for you, putting his arms to his side, a gesture of vulnerability that was a milestone for him. He heard you giggle to yourself above him, blowing hot air onto your hands before touching his shoulders once again. You dug your digits into the knots in his shoulders, pressing in circular motions. It took everything in Kieran to not unleash the most embarrassing sounds of his lives.

The massage was undeniably good. You’d first worked on his shoulders, alternating between cupping one of your hands in a c shape and dragging along his traps, to using your thumbs to dig into the muscles. You grimaced when you felt the knots shift beneath your fingers, admittedly becoming a little squeamish. Sometimes you’d even go in with your elbow.

“You’re real tense.” You’d comment, to which he laughed bashfully. “Yeah…”

You reached for the bottle of oil next to your foot, leaning down before unscrewing it and pouring more into your hand. Some of the thick liquid seeped through your fingers and dripped onto Kieran’s lower back, to which he would arch his stomach off the cot momentarily. Your hands traveled from his shoulders down along his dorsi, where you’d form your hands into knuckles and dug them in, dragging them along the muscle. Kieran would let out the occasional curse or hiss, to which you’d both laugh at. But when you began massaging a particularly sore spot, he let out an incipient moan.

You froze; Kieran felt you freeze. You both sat there in a mortified silence as you let the awkwardness from what you’d just heard settle in. You let out a pithy laugh to try and cut the tension, feeling just how rigid Kieran’s thighs had gotten under you.

“You uh, must be really enjoying yourself.” You joked stiffly.

“Yeah…” Was all he could say in return; he sounded incredibly strained.

You continued to massage him in silence, grunting occasionally as you put your weight into working his muscles loose. He let out a few more squeaks and groans out, and eventually you felt Kieran shift under you, and you almost wanted to chastise him and tell him to stay still, when you realized he was rutting into your cot.

You retracted your hands, making varying facial expressions until your jaw opened slightly, eyes widening. He was grinding into your cot. You realized what he was trying to do. You slid off his thighs, confusing him. He looked back at you confused, hoisting himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“What happened?” He asked. Though he wasn’t completely oblivious as to your reasoning. A sense of depreciation began to spread through his shoulders like a cold wind; had he completely weirded you out by moaning. He felt his stomach turn when he saw you sit before him on the ground next to the cot, looking at the ground as you tried to find your words. You eventually found it in yourself to look up at him, opening your mouth to speak, though it would be a moment before you actually said anything.

“Do you… want me to touch you?” You asked.

Kieran laid there and stared at you, bewildered. Did you mean what he thought you meant? Touch how? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to sound dumb. Perhaps you just meant keep touching him, as in a massage, but it had already been established that you were allowed to. He turned on the cot to better face you, forgetting himself momentarily and revealing his erection to you. Your eyes moved towards it and remained on it, indicating what you truly meant to Kieran. His breaths became shaky with apprehensiveness as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Slowly he nodded, unable to get the words out. There was an underlying sense of adolescence in the way the two of you were so nervous. Kieran sat up and leaned his back against the tent, scooting over slightly to the left to allow you room to sit next to him. You both carried yourself with uneasiness, not sure how to proceed and move this moment along.

“Uh…can I…?” You trailed off, making an unbuttoning motion with your hand before pointing at his pants. He stared at you before nodding, suddenly feeling his throat become dry. With shaky hands, you undid the front of his jeans, pushing them open before sliding your hand in. Your fingers combed through his pubic hair before you felt his appendage, pausing and giving yourself a mental pep talk before gripping his base. You pulled his cock out slowly, revealing it to yourself. The dim lighting of the tent made it difficult to see clearly, yet you could see his glistening tip when you tugged on his cock. Kieran was sucking in shaky breaths as you studied it, feeling a wave of self consciousness as you kept looking.

“Oh!” You suddenly pulled away, exclaiming excitedly. You reached for the bottle of oil, uncorking it before splashing some more onto your hands carelessly. In your haste, your nightgown staining with the liquid, a problem you would worry about later. He suddenly felt all the more excited watching you lather your hands in the oil, the light shining on them to make them appear waxy and slick. Carefully, you picked up his cock again and slowly slid your hand down his length, reveling in the wanton groan he let out. He threw his head back before lolling it to the side.

“Don’t be too loud…” You hushed. “We don’t wanna get found out!”

The very idea of people knowing caused a shudder to rack through Kieran. He could already imagine the weeks of teasing he’d have to endure. All the terrible phrases and words that would be tossed around. Not to mention, you’d also probably be on the receiving end of some bullying as well. You began stroking his cock, a consistent slick sound becoming distinct with each pump of your hand. You bit your bottom lip in concentration, using the pitch and volume of his moans to pick up on what you should and shouldn’t do. Soon enough, his erection was glistening with a mix of pre cum and oil. You laughed breathlessly, giddy that you were doing this right now.

Excitement replaced apprehension as the two of you continued, and you subsequently allowed Kieran to pull your nightgown off. It took some convincing on your behalf, insisting he was allowed to look and touch, but he eventually worked up the courage to do it. He looked from your breasts back at you as if asking for permission. You nodded with a smile, beckoning his touch. He trembled as he cupped your breasts, seemingly fascinated by the soft globes of flesh in his hands, particularly the feeling of your hardening nipples poking into his palm. He forgot about his erection, insteading focusing on touching you now. His hands slid down your sides, tickling you and making you squirm.

“I’m ticklish…” You chided playfully, grabbing his wrists. Your face lit up to indicate you had another idea, and you reached for the bottle of oil again. You demanded Kieran show his hands so that you could pour oil on them, doing him the favor of rubbing the substance in.

“Rub me all over.” You raised your brows and moved your shoulders side to side playfully, your breasts moving in tandem. More confidently this time, Kieran ran his hands over your, stopping to squeeze your breasts before traveling down towards your hips. He repeated this in circular motions, properly oiling you up. You squirmed and gasped, half from pleasure and half from feeling ticklish.

Without warning, you got up and removed your bloomers, the only article of clothing you were left wearing. Kieran gasped in surprise, not sure himself how far this was going to get. He supposed he got his answer. You stopped and turned to look at him before stepping out of them.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Oh, I didn’t know we’d be…” He trailed off, still unsure about the implications. You looked down at your feet, realizing your brashness.

“Oh…We don’t have to if you don't want to!” You reassured, making a motion to pull your bloomers back on. You felt a tinge of embarrassment; perhaps you had also misread the situation?

“No no, I want to…” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Only if you want to…” He added.

You smiled widely, feeling a non sexual urge of adoration for him. “Yes, I want to too.”

You hurriedly kicked your bloomers off before walking towards the cot. You placed a lithe hand on Kieran’s chest and pushed him to lay flat on the cot. Quickly, you poured even more oil onto your hands and rubbed it on your cunt, gasping at your ministrations. He raised his hips to aid you in shuffling his pants lower before you straddled his hips. You pushed your pubis into him, releasing low moans in unison.

Hurriedly, you lifted your hips as he assisted you in inserting himself. You sat down on his lap fully, taking his engorged cock in all at once. You placed a hand over Kieran’s mouth as you began bouncing on his lap, the only sounds in the room being his muffled moans and the slapping of skin on skin. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from being loud, rather focusing all your attention on raising and lowering yourself.

Your thighs burned at the repeated action, but you willed yourself to continue, only stopping momentarily to keep the burning at bay before continuing quickly after. Kieran came quickly after, but you kept going. Even when his muffled moans turned into high pitched whines from overstimulation, you chased your own release.

You retracted your hand, smirking down at Kieran. He looked completely debauched, his face red and sweaty, eyes watering from pleasure. You teased him by playing with your tits, rubbing even more oil on them as you pulled and squeezed your own nipples. He looked hypnotized by the way they bounced with each motion. Eventually, you trailed a hand down between your legs, spreading your glistening folds for Kieran so he could watch as you rubbed your clit. You threw your head back and let loose a string of curses, cumming all over Kieran’s cock with fervor.

You stilled on his lap, smiling as you gasped and tried to catch your breath. You looked down at Kieran who was smiling back at you. Kieran remained in you as you laid down on his chest, ear to his heart as you listened to it gradually slow down.

“Wow.” He gasped, causing you to giggle.

“Wow, indeed.” You added. The two of you laid there silently, basking in the afterglow of sex.

“Did you like your massage?” You asked suddenly, craning your neck to face him.

“Yes, definitely. Especially the part that came after.” He joked. Your laughter was cut off by angry footsteps outside your tent.

“Are you two done yet?!” It was Bill. “Camp isn’t exactly the most private area y’know!”

The two of you looked at eachother, a look of shared knowledge as you braced yourselves for the weeks of teasing waiting down the line for you.

Heaven Is A Bedroom - TV Girl

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