#Also why are the fingernails on your new arm so weird

[chronomally]

There's something extremely funny to me about defeating Calamity Ganon just to go exploring underneath Hyrule Castle and accidentally awaken older, more evil Ganon

[cinemastyles-backup]

Loved You First

Summary: a requested by: roryknoelle -"Could you do a friends to lovers smut with y/n and Harry, where Harry keeps seeing her date someone else, gets jealous and finally confesses. Also could you make it as dirty as possible lmao"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, jealous Harry, oral (both), fingering, slight cockwarming, slight punishment, praising, absolute filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

FINE LINE HARRY

"So." Harry says, "You have a date tonight?"

I nod, "Yeah." I look over at him, "Is that okay with you?"

He laughs, "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

I shrug, "I don't know. It seemed like there was more to it." He shakes his head and goes back to watching tv, "I just wasn't sure if we were hanging out tonight or not."

"Oh god, did we have plans to? Did I totally double book myself?" I ask in a panic. He smile and shakes his head, "No, no. I was just asking."

I let out a sigh, "Oh okay. Good. We can hang out after?"

He raises his eyebrows, "What if he wants to come back here after? What are you going to tell him about the very handsome man camping out on your couch?"

He smirks and I laugh, "Okay first off. That was very egotistical, and second off, I wouldn't bring a guy back to my place. I don't want them knowing where I live until I know them better."

I look up from washing the dishes and he's looking at the tv, "Did you hear anything I said?"

He looks over at me, "What? Sorry. You lost me after you called me egotistical." He smirks and looks back at the tv.

I roll my eyes and smile. My eyes linger on Harry until my phone dings. He looks over and I quickly look away from him. I wipe my hands on my pants and pick up my phone,

Shawn: Would you like to meet at 6 for dinner instead of 8?

"He wants to meet at six instead of eight? Is that weird?" I bite my fingernail and look at Harry.

He shrugs, "Maybe he turns into a werewolf at nine." He move his fingers up and down, "Oooooo."

I laugh, "Stop it."

"How many dates have you been on with this guy?" Harry walks up and leans on the counter.

"This will be three."

"Three? Hmm." He shakes his head.

"What?"

He shakes his head and holds his hands out.

"Harry. What?" I walk over and set my phone down on the counter, "Talk to me."

"I think.. I'm going to go to the bar tonight." He taps the counter, "Feel free to join me?"

"You know.. hold on."  I tap my screen and smile as I do.

"What are you doing? Y/N. What are you-" he snatches my phone right after I hit send.

"Does your sister want to come out for drinks with us? I have a friend who is single and we can do a double date if you want." He drops the phone and looks at me with his mouth open, "Why? What. I don't-" he shakes his head.

"Come on, Harry. We can still hang out and you can maybe meet someone. His sister is very pretty and he did mention that all she ever finds is assholes, so I kind of talked you up a little bit so please. Don't be an asshole."

He sighs, "Y/N.. I don't.. I meant alone. With-"

"I know. But going to the bar sounds a lot more fun than some boring dinner." I look down at my phone.

"So he's boring?" Harry crosses his arms, "Hmm."

I shake my head, "No, no. I just mea-"

"No no." He cuts me off, "I know. You'd rather have me there incase things go south and you need a little pick me up."

I tilt my head, "That was one time Harry." I smirk slightly, "But it was a very good time. I will say that."

"My ego thanks you." He laughs, "I'm going to head home and get ready, I guess I'll go to the bar with you and your thing. I'll be back later."

"The thing's sister, Harry. You have a date, too!" I yell as he shuts my door.

——

There's a knock on my door and I walk to it, "Coming."

I open the door and put the back of my earring on, "Hey." I say with a smile. Harry is dressed in a pair of white pants and a black half unbuttoned shirt. I close the door and turn around, eyeing him up and down.

Harry looks me up and down and walks in, "Hello to you, too." I smile and pull my dress down, "Too much?"

He shakes his head and gives me a quick, "No."

"You okay?"

He mumbles something, but I can hear what he says.

"What?"

"I said I'm great. I just need a drink." He smiles and motions to the door, "Are we ready to go meet thing one and thing two?"

I laugh slightly, "Yeah yeah. I have to grab my purse and then we can go."

——

The car ride to the bar was very quiet, which isn't normal for Harry, but I didn't push because if it was really bothering him he'd talk to me .. eventually.

"Ready?" I ask giving him a smile. He smiles slightly and reaches over to fix my hair, "You look beautiful. If he doesn't see it, he's a fucking idiot."

He gets out of the car and I get out after him, "Thank you, Harry." I nudge his arm as he opens the door for me. I walk in and stand there, looking through the people for Shawn and his sister.

He raises his hand and I wave back, "They're over there. Come on!" I yell over the music to Harry and grab his wrist, pulling him along behind me.

"Hey, you look beautiful." Shawn says pulling me in for a hug. He glances over at Harry and his face kind of falls. Harry smirks and holds his hand out, "Hi, I'm Harry."

Shawn looks down at me and slowly stretches his arm out, "Shawn." He looks back at me and smiles, "Oh." His voice is nervous, "My sister is.." his hand falls down with a slap on his leg, "Already dancing with another guy."

I frown, "Did you tell her about Harry?"

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah I-"

"Oh my god, you must be y/n. Shawn talks about you all the time." She leans in and hugs me.

She's clearly tipsy already.

"Who's your friend?" She asks biting her lip while looking at Harry.

"That's Harry, Zoe." Shawn says quickly, "Harry. Zoe."

She walks over and lays a hand on Harry's arm.

I straighten up and look up at Harry, who looks very unamused.

"You're much more good looking than Shawn made you out to be. Come dance with me?" Zoe pulls on his arm and he pulls his arm away, "I need to drink."

He keeps his eyes on me until he turns to the bartender.

"He seems very.. gentleman like." Shawn clears his throat and looks down at me, "What are you having?"

"Already got it." Harry cuts in. He places a glass in my hand, "Tequila sunrise." He smiles and winks at me.

"Oh, yeah. Cool, cool." Shawn clenches his jaw and lets out a sigh, "Why don't we go dance? Yeah?"

I look over my shoulder mouthing a "thank you" to Harry. He nods and holds his drink up and Zoe walks back up to him.

I kind of feel guilty for setting him up on a blind date.

Shawn grabs my hips with his hands and I sip my drink. He spins me around and my eyes immediately find Harry.

His eyes are set on me and only me. Zoe keeps trying to talk to him but he just shrugs and nods, not breaking his stare.

She looks over at me and gives me a mean look, moving closer to Harry with a smirk growing on her face.

Shawn spins me around and pulls me closer to him, moving his body with mine.

I suddenly feel sick, like I don't want to be here anymore. I step back and finish my drink, "I need another one."

He nods and leads me back to the bar.

Zoe is still blabbing to Harry and he nods, "Mhm." Shawn hands me drink and I sit down on the bar stool.

"So, y/n." Shawn sits down and lays a hand on my thigh, "What are your plans after this?"

I shrug and aggressively sip my straw, "I'm not.. too sure really."

"Oh well I thought you'd like to maybe come back to my place?"

No.

"Oh, well.. I actually have to be up early so.. I really wasn't planning on staying out too late." I lie, "Maybe so-"

"Ah." Zoe yells, "What the hell, Shawn. I thought you were setting me up with someone who wasn't an asshole." Zoe slams her glass down and scoffs as she walks away.

"What the hell did you do to my sister, Harry?" Shawn says standing up. Harry turns slowly and sets his glass down, "I didn't do anything, Shawn." Harry chuckles slightly, "That was the issue, apparently."

"What are you saying?" Shawn steps closer and I get up, putting my hands on each of their chests, "okay. Okay. Stop it." I look at both of them and Harry shakes his head, "Fuck this. I'm not settling for someone's slutty sister."

"You mother fu-" Shawn goes for Harry but I step in between them, "You gonna hit me too?" He sighs and steps back.

"I'm out of here." Harry grumbles and walks away.

"I don't know what his problem is, but he needs to seriously work on his shit." Shawn runs a hand through his hair, "I'm going to go find Zoe." He kisses my head, "I'll call you later."

I stand there for a a moment before I walk out of the bar. I walk down the street a few steps looking for Harry before I pull my phone out to call him.

I hear his phone ring and I jump turning towards the ally, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Harry?" I yell as I shove my phone back into my purse. He walks towards me and shakes his head, "If you're just going to yell at me, I'd rather not hear it."

"What the hell was that?" I ask but he keeps walking. I let out a groan, "Fuck. Harry." I walk quickly to catch up to him, my heels clicking and clacking against the side walk.

He stops when he reaches his car and turns around, "What do you want me to say? Hmm?" He flings his hands in the air, "I wasn't interested in Zoe.. I'm-"

He stops talking and sighs, "You know what.. not even going to waste my breathe."

"What is going on with you? Seriously Harry."

He reaches for the door handle and I put my hands on the hood of his car, "You're not going anywhere until you talk to me."

He stands there with his arms crossed.

"I tried to do you a favor and help you by setting you up with someone who-"

"Help me?" He cuts me off and laughs, "No." he shakes his head.

I sigh and shake my head, "I don't know what you want me to do."

"We'll for starters, don't set me up with your boyfriend's sister." He yells and fails to hold back his laugh.

"What did you do that caused her to make a scene like that?" I look up at him and he shrugs, "Is because I just didn't like her not a good enough answer?"

"But why didn't you-"

"Because she isn't you." He yells cutting me off.

I stand there staring at him and watch at he slowly walks over to me. I stand up from leaning on the car and turn towards him.

"She isn't you." He whispers as he walks up to me quickly, grabbing my face and pulling me in to kiss him.

Our lips move in sync as he pushes be back against the car, "I'm so fucking in love with you, y/n. I wish you would have noticed it sooner."

His lips go back to mine before I even have a chance to say anything. His tongue pushes against mine and he kisses back my jaw line, "Please." He begs, "Just let me finally have you."

I slowly look up at him and nod, "Take me home, Harry." He kisses me again and quickly opens the car door. I slide in and take a deep breathe as I pull the seat belt over my body.

"There's a lot of things I've been waiting for, y/n." He starts the car, "you being all of them."

I reach over and twirl his hair around my fingers, "Then let's cross them off." I bite my lip, "I love you. I just-" I sigh and shrug, "I wasn't sure if you were just my friend or not."

"I don't want to be friends, y/n. Since that night, I've had this.. this love for you and seeing you date other guys.. fuck." He tilts his head and sigh, "Makes me so-"

"Jealous?" I ask with a smirk.

He nods, "And so fucking pissed." He lays a hand on my thigh, "Seeing him touch you.." he slides his hand up, "Made me want to take you, lift that hot little dress up, and fuck the absolute fucking shit out of you on the bar."

His words make my breathe catch in my throat, "Harry." I whisper lowly.

"I've wanted you. For so long, y/n. I just can't sit back and watch you leave me anymore."

I unbuckle and lean over. I plant kisses along his jaw line and lay a hand on his already hard cock that straining against his pants, "I'm not going anywhere."

He moans as I palm his cock, "I promise I'll make it up to you when we get home." I lick up his neck and gently sink my teeth onto his ear lobe, "Punish me, baby. Treat me like your little slut."

He leans his head back slightly and groans, "Oh fuck, I'm going to. I promise."

I continue to kiss his neck, leaving little hickeys here and there. He moans as I grip his cock, "Almost home, baby."

I fall back into the seat and nod, "You have me so wet, Harry." I bring my dress up slightly and run a finger up and down my clothed pussy.

"I can't wait for your cock to be inside of me." I smile and bite my lip as he glances over at me. He clenches his jaw and reaches over. He slips his fingers inside the side of my panties and rubs a finger up and down my slit.

"Fuck." He groans shifting in his seat, "You are so fucking soaked for me."

His finger plays around with my folds, sliding in and out every now and then.

I moan loudly and tilt my head back, "Fuck, Harry."

He sucks in air, "My name is so hot coming from your lips." He takes his hand away and parks the car. He doesn't give me a moment to move before he's unbuckled and leaning over the center console.

His fingers find their place in my pussy, this time he isn't teasing me.

He thrusts his fingers in and out at a fast but satisfyingly pace.

I arch my back and slam my hand against the dash, letting out a pleasured scream.

Harry kisses me to quiet me, "Shh, baby. Don't want to cause a scene in the parking lot."

His hand keeps fucking me, quickly bringing me to, what I assume is, the first orgasm of many. I whimper against his lips and he chuckles, "No one can make you cum like I can."

I nod, my chest rising and falling quickly, "Only you, Harry."

"Only me. Now, come on." He slowly pulls his fingers out and fixes my drenched panties. I slowly spin around and set my legs on the floor. Harry opens my door and helps me out.

He pulls me over and kisses me, "I can't keep my hands off of you." He presses his cock into my leg, "Fuck." He shuts the door with a slam, "Come on."

I follow him up to my door and he unlocks it with his key, not letting go of my hand. He pulls me in and my back meets the door as it slams shut.

He drops to his knees and pulls the wet fabric down my legs. He pushes my dress up and lifts my leg as His mouth attaches to me and I let out a gasp, "Fuck. Fuck." I grab the door knob and grab a fistful of Harry's hair with my other.

He moans against me and nudges my clit with his nose, "Mmm."

"H-Harry." I already feel like I'm going to cum again, "Fu-" I whimper and push my head into the door, "Fuck." I moan and roll my hips on his tongue.

"You taste heavenly, y/n." He groans as he stands up. He places a hand around my neck, his fingers slowly squeezing the sides. He kisses me and I moan as I taste myself on his tongue.

"Don't you taste good, sweetheart?" He whispers, "I could eat you all day."

I nod and moan at his words.

He slips his hands behind me to my back and slowly unzips my dress and quickly takes it off my body.

He takes a step back, his eyes scan over my naked figure and he smirks, "I've missed seeing you like this."

I bite my lip and watch him as he admires me.

He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way, shrugging it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. He kicks off his shoes and undoes his pants.

I look down at his cock that's straining against his boxers and I step towards him.

"Let's go somewhere that's more comfortable for your knees, baby." He holds his hand out and I take it. He leads me up the steps and as soon as we reach the top, we're on each other making out as we back into the bedroom.

I kick my heels off before falling back onto the bed, "Fuck." He groans as he takes his boxers off. He pumps his cock a few times and crawl up and lay on my stomach, "Let me."

Before he answers I take his cock in my mouth. I work the tip with my tongue and his breathe hitches and he moans. "Fuck, y/n."

I wrap my hand around him, stroking him, "Does that feel good, daddy?"

His snaps down quickly and a smirk grows on his lips, "It feels amazing, baby." He brushes a hand over my hair, "Now keep doing it." He pushes my head back down onto his cock and he lets out a groan, "Fuck, yeah baby."

I bob my head up and down and reach up to gently massage his balls. He lets out a gasp and bucks his hips, "Sh-shit."

He pulls back, "You're going to make me cum, and I really don't want to end the night this early." He smiles and walks around to sit on the bed. I turn my body and lay on my side, "How do you want me?"

He smirks and leans back against the headboard. He motions for me to come to him, "Any way I can get you." He whispers as I straddle him.

I drag my fingers down his chest and stomach and wrap my fingers around his cock, holding it as I slide down onto him. I bring my hand up and lay it on his chest, "Harry." I breathe out.

He bites his lip and grips my hips, "That feel good?"

I nod quickly, "Yes."

He brushes hair from my face, "Don't move."

"W-what?"

"You heard me." He smirks and tilts his head back and rests it, "I'm punishing you. Remember? So you're going to sit there for a little bit and I'm going to admire how fucking sexy you look on my cock."

I whimper slightly, "no, please."

He smirks, "Uh huh."

I dig my nails into his shoulders, "Harry." I whine, "Please."

"If you move, I'll make your wait longer for my cock and I know you want it so bad." He reaches up and plays with my nipples, "I love you."

I look at him, forgetting what we're doing for a moment and smile, "I love y-you." He thrusts his hips up gasping me to gasp, "Harry."

"Say it again. I love when you say it."

He grips my hips and slowly rocks them on his cock. The teasing has my brain fuzzy, "I-I.." I moan, "I love.. fuck.. I love you." I wrap my arms around his neck, "I love you."

He presses his lips to mine and slides a hand up my back, "I've waited to hear you say that." He kisses down my neck, "Now fuck your self on my cock, baby."

I quickly start to bounce, moaning loudly against his neck, "H-Harry."

He moans and holds me tighter, "Fuck."

He lets me ride him for a little longer before he leans me back, "Bend over." I nod and roll off of him, getting onto my knees. I slowly bend over and rest my head on the bed.

Harry positions himself behind me and brings his hand down on my ass cheek with a hard slap before he grips my hips.

I let out a whimper and he pushes himself into me, "Fuck."

He pulls out and thrusts in hard which causes me to let out a scream, "Fuck."

His thrusts are hard and slow and his moans are loud.

"You sound so hot, Harry." I moan pushing my hips back to meet his. He trails a hand up my back and wraps my hair around it, "Do I?" He groans as he pulls me up so my back meets his chest, "You like it when I moan for you?"

"Yes daddy." I moan, "Fuck, yesyesyes."

"Only for you, huh?" He pulls my hair and pushes into me, "Hmm?"

"O-only for me." I repeat, "Only me."

"You're damn right baby." He starts to thrusts again and rests his head on my shoulder, "Fuck." I reach back to grab his wrist but he takes my arm and pins it against my lower back.

He reaches around and his fingers wrap around my throat with his other hand.

I bite my lip and my moans are slightly muffled.

"Your pussy feels fucking good squeezing around my cock." He moans, "Fuck."

I whimper and my eyes roll back as I cum again.

"Again? Look at you, sweetheart. Keeping daddy's cock wet." He lets go of my throat and his thrusts slow down. He lets go of my arm and rolls me over, leaning down to hover his body over mine, "You're going to make me cum soon, where do you want it?"

I lean up and kiss him, "Where ever you want me to have it."

He smirks, "Good answer, sweetheart." He slide aback in and groans, "You're so good to me." He interlocks his fingers with mine and pins my hands above my head.

I wrap my legs around his waist and arch my back, "Fuck. Fuck." I moan and tilt my head back.

"Y/N." Harry breathes out, "I-I.. you need to.. un-"

I tighten my legs around him, "I want all of you."

He smirks and his head falls slightly as he groans one final time. He squeezes my hands as he cums.

He lifts his head and shakes it's while looking at me, "You.." he laughs slightly and gently let's go of my hands.

"Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time, okay." I laugh and shrug, "Nothing we can do about it now." He nods, "You're right. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?"

He reaches out and brushes my cheek with his thumb. I shake my head and lay a hand on his, "No. I'm okay." He leans in and kisses me, "You know. I should probably ask just to make it official."

I tilt my head, my head still slightly fuzzy.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

I smile and nod, "Yes, Harry. Only if you'll be my boyfriend?" I laugh and he smiles.

"I think I can do that." He leans in and kisses me, "I really do love you."

I look down at him and run a hand through his hair, "And I really love you." He smiles and gets up and walks over to my dresser, "Here." He pulls out a shirt and throws it to me.

I unfold it and smile, "When did you put that in there?" I slip his shirt on. He shrugs, "Earlier today. I knew you liked it so much, so." He slips on a a pair of sweats he had in the bottom drawer and I laugh, "When did you move in?"

He shrugs, "I'm always here so."

"No, no. I'm not complaining, that's actually smart." I stand up and he holds up a lace pair of panties, "Wear these ones please? And no pants." He winks.

"Give them here." I smile and shake my head, "Spoiled is what you are, Harry. Spoiled." He walks over to me and holds me, "I know. I know. But. I'll make you something to eat in return."

"Oh okay, now I'm spoiled. Please do."

We walk downstairs and I laugh as I seen the trail of clothes going from the door to the steps.

My phone rings in my purse and I grab it off the floor and get it out, "Oh shit."

"What babe?" Harry asks peaking his head out from the kitchen.

"It's thing one calling." I roll my eyes and toss it onto the couch. I go to walk away and it rings again. Harry walks out with a smirk and picks it up, "She's busy."

He chuckles and hangs up, "Took care of that for you."

He tosses my phone down and pulls me with him to the kitchen.

"Thank you." I say looking up at him. He gives me a kiss, "Anything for you."

——

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[transfemzedaph]

idea that definitely hasnt been living in my brain:

joel totally, 100%, does NOT have a massive crush on zedaph. zedaph, who he's heard a lot of things about but, but nothing could've prepared him for how blummin' cute he is, for goodness sake-- what. what? don't look at him like that. it's nothing. shut up.

(hope u like this even if u dont write smth for it DJBDJD)

i fucking loved this ask so much <3. i transed joel & zeds genders. bc im me. also the end is meh & i dont know what grians base looks like and i do not care

-

Of course Joel had heard about Zedaph, how could they not have. There was the rest of ZITS in the life series, Skizz specifically when he found out the both of them were joining, and of course Grians run down of all of the hermits. The basic gist of it was she's weird in a cool way and makes creative and useless but fun machines, which honestly, Joel thought sounded really awesome. Redstone was fine and all but they did tend to think most redstoners were way too serious about the whole thing.

So when Joel was invited over to be the first person to test Zeds newest thing, they were excited!

What none of any of his friends had told them, was how flippin cute she was. And yeah maybe Joel ended up stumbling over their words more than usual whilst hanging out, and yeah maybe they were a little bit distracted from the game? activity? workout? whatever it was, Joel was a bit distracted because they kept watching Zed.

Joel rushes their goodbyes and runs off back home, laying face down on the floor of their newly built home, void they should have put some furniture in already.

Grian wanders over and lets out a little snort at the sight of Joel, who just groans and rolls over, propping themself up a bit,

"This is all your fault."

Grian just stares.

Joel locks eyes with him face scrunching, "You didn't tell me she was cute."

Grian, promptly bursts out laughing.

"Gri, no, this isn't funny. This is serious. And she's gonna think I'm an idiot now and it's all your fault!"

Grian's still laughing.

Joel sits then self up and crosses their arms indignantly, "Are you done?"

Grian's giggling a bit when he replies, "You've got it so bad! For a blonde! Again! You have a type sooo bad."

Joel kicks their leg out towards Grian, grumbling slightly, "Yeah well, you're blonde but you're ugly and I hate you. So there."

Grian sits himself down next to Joel, bumping their shoulder with his own as he does.

"Honestly I bet Zed loved hanging out with you. Don't worry yeah? And at least next time you can compose yourself before you hang out."

Joel leans their head on Grians shoulder.

"Yeah." They sigh, picking at their fingernails, before mumbling "Think 'm just overthinking it cause of being new 'n all that. Just dont wanna make anyone hate me."

Grian scoffs, "No one is going to hate you, and you know Skizz, and probably Tango and Impulse as well, have all talked to Zed about you? Why do you think she invited you to hang out?"

Joel hums.

"To me it seems like she was also trying to impress you too, showing off what she made?"

Joel blushes, halfheartedly giving Grian a little shove, "Shut up."

-

It's a couple of days later when Joel barges into Grians house, "I have an excuse to go visit Zed!"

Grian sighs, "And you had to come and tell me about this? Right now?"

Joel takes in the scene, Mumbo, standing next to a coffee machine, his moustache looking very lackluster, Grian almost curled up on his stool, hands clasped around a mug.

Joel winces, "Uh, what time is it?"

"Too early for this nonsense, shoo." Grian lazily waves one hand in Joels general direction to usher them away.

Joel grumbles to themself as they walk away, "Whatever, Grian doesn't get to know my really cool and awesome plan of going over and saying that we need to beat Impulse and Tangos high score without being a bit cheaty like they were. Which is the best plan ever."

[stellernorth]

[dashboard simulator of a world without the ghostfacers effect where the true supernatural show is perceived]

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spot the difference stick figure violence and samruby moments

(1 note)

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if i was the mall cop who got kid sam in trouble for stealing nail polish i would have instead helped him steal more nail polish. also i wouldn’t be a cop

(184 notes)

🧪dogsogdog4 Follow

hey i’m finally watched lazarus rising and i cannot see anything when “castiel” enters its just fully white and the static noise is kind of painful tbh lol. is this a my computer problem or what

(7 notes)

🎉 rowenapublicindecancy Follow

(52 notes)

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you all aren’t taking like medical advice from supernatural right??? the medical advice that has resulted in canonically [checks notes] one (1) instance of blindness due to ingesting rubbing alcohol, two (2) toe amputations and one (1) case of SEPSIS?!

🎪 kevinscriminalrecord Follow

no we aren’t doing that

🌠 mixtapesextape Follow

Sounds like someone hasn't heard about the kitchen accident diy stitches girl from LiveJournal. So weird that the fandom today doesn't know about her, back in the day it was everywhere.

🎪 kevinscriminalrecord Follow

huh???

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Heritage Post.

(1943 notes)

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day 1 of asking john winchester to put his cigs out on me

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could you stop

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oh here come the buzzkills. i bet you thought it was hot when bela did it to dean. but i’m not allowed to express my interests i guess.

(218 notes)

⛸️ mangojuicecas Follow

Um Guys i had this guy i’m seeing over and we were taking. about watching a movie. and. im the most embarrassed i’ve ever been i can barely type this. and i opened my computer and clicked to the netflix tab. and it was paused mid crypt scene blowjob kill meeeee 😭😭😭

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why would you ever stop halfway through. that's like looking at half of starry night then closing your eyes and leaving the museum

(78 notes)

🧑🏻‍🦳s6monster Follow

Uquiz - Which Supernatural scars are you?

I GOT RUBY’S ARM SCARS WAAAH

(3 notes)

👩‍🦰 cleopatralumineersrowena Follow

depeche mode master and servant spn bdsm and fight scene compilation amv we're really in it now

#using lyrics as censor bars is the innovation of the century

(59 notes)

🌂 kansaslawrence Follow

for everyone who said dean slamming his hand in the impala door when he was drunk wouldn't do that to his fingernails i did a similar thing (accidentally, before the show aired) #deancoded loll and it looked basically the same. here are pics of my and his hands afterwards side by side for reference

(482 notes)

🍄 0nth3h34d0f4p1n Follow

Another reason samruby is queercoded is how her spitting blood into his mouth parallels the champagne scene in my beautiful laundrette

(38 notes)

🎃 sammmyspooks Follow

2.16 "this disease pumping through my veins and i can't rip it out or scrub it clean--i've tried; i'm a whole new level of freak" and 8.21 "you used to read to me when i was little i mean really little" etc we all remember sir galahad speech. sooooo how young do you think sam was when he first tried

(739 notes)

🪼 ccoldfridge Follow

just remembered how dean tried his best to ask cas to take a female vessel so they could fuck heterosexually in ftbyam and i nearly passed out in the post office . castielllllll he was saying he wanted to fuck youuu

(63 notes)

🤵 a1waysenduphere Follow

comparing the endverse sam arc to the classic structure of a shakespearean tragedy

part 1: aloneness and exposition

keep reading

(382 notes)

👩 isolationnatural Follow

the way people #coquette #lanadelrey #femaleangst -ify claire's s12 shoplifting eating disorder getting into fights self medicating situation is so so weird and fucked up. we saw stanford era dean do literally exactly all the same shit but with him it's ohhh classic beautiful americana what a tragic figure i understand his emotions have depth and complexity THEY DID ALL THE SAME STUFF maybe think about why you see the situations differently

(294 notes)

🔵 butchruby4femanna Follow

why did i have to see dean naked that many times. just wondering again

(2 notes)

⚡ cassandrasam Follow

ok spn 5x20. so sam's kissing the demon possessing brady out of nostalgia and grief for his dead boyfriend, the demon's kissing back because he knows it will make sam more likely to listen to him, imagine if dean had walked in in that moment

❗greendean Follow

or crowley

(158 notes)

🍇 notgoodnatural Follow

hey everyone. wjsh i could have seen dean naked more times.

(10 notes)

[sansaorgana]

— THE WINDS OF CALADAN (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Duke Leto Atreides x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Your relationship with Leto and his son is getting better, especially after the happy news. However, your father’s visit to Caladan ruins all the effort and causes a misunderstanding.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am very grateful for all the kind comments, likes and reblogs under the previous part. Many people asked for the second chapter, so here we go. 💗 I am also planning to write a fic with a modern Duke Leto soon but my Uni is taking most of my time recently... 🙃

WARNINGS — age gap relationship, mentions of death after childbirth, douchebag father

WORD COUNT — 4,740

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE WINDS OF CALADAN (II)

That time of the year, the winds and rain were starting to become so heavy and frequent that it was advised not to leave the palace. Under any other circumstances, it would feel like you were in a trap but because your relationship with your husband and his son was finally developing, it actually gave you an opportunity to spend more time together.

Sometimes, though, you would get caught on a sofa by the window; staring outside at the awful weather with a warm cup of tea between your fingers. Your gaze was longing and your fingernails were tapping on the porcelain impatiently. It was obvious that your mind was somewhere else.

“What’s troubling you?” Leto entered the library where you had been sitting. You two had dropped all the official titles recently but it still felt weird to talk so casually to each other even if you started to regularly lay together. You knew couples – like your parents – who kept calling each other my Lord and my Lady for their whole life.

You turned around with a soft smile to let him know that you were happy to see him.

“Nothing, I just…” you looked down and put the cup down on the table.

“You’re missing home,” he pointed out and sat next to you. You moved slightly to make space. “I know your planet, it’s always warm and sunny.”

“But never too hot,” you chuckled. “I wish we could visit,” you added, sadly.

“You’re welcome to go,” Leto put his hand on your shoulder and caressed it softly. “I’m not keeping you here.”

“Aren’t you scared I’m going to tell my father bad things about you?” you teased and he rolled his eyes. “But, my dear, it’s not about that. I would simply find no pleasure in going there alone.”

“You can take Paul with you. I’m sure he would love to go,” Leto hummed.

“Oh, yes, of course… But, still, I would miss a certain someone,” you turned your head around to look into his deep brown eyes. They sparkled a bit as he smiled.

“I have my duties here. Dukes don’t go on holidays unless we are invited to official meetings.”

“I know. And I won’t leave you here alone when the weather is so awful. It would make you sad!” you promised.

“I am used to it at this point.”

“No, I’m staying,” you turned your whole body around to nuzzle into him and he put his arms around you to keep you close. You pressed your cheek to his chest and took a deep breath in. “Right now it would be a bad time to travel anyway.”

“Why, dear? The weather is not scary to our ships,” Leto caressed your hair carefully.

“I’m not talking about the weather nor our ships, dear husband,” you could feel your face burning out of nervousness and excitement as your lips curled into a big grin.

“What can you possibly mean then?” he furrowed his brow.

“Am I supposed to believe that the medics truly kept a secret from the Duke?” you looked up into his confused eyes. “Oh, dear, I did not expect such loyalty from them.”

“Do you want me to beg for clarification? Now I’m worried when you have mentioned the medics…” Leto cleared his throat.

“I am with child,” you whispered quietly, your lips trembling as you said that and your eyes searched for his reaction.

First, he furrowed his brow, then the muscles of his face twitched and his lips curved into a wide smile. His touch around you changed, it was somehow gentler now and softer, like he was holding a glass.

“R-really?” he asked.

“Oh, I am certain,” you giggled softly, “I can feel my body changing already,” you bit on your lower lip. “Are you happy?”

Leto didn’t answer but he nodded before placing a kiss on your forehead. You could see that his eyes filled with the overwhelming worry that overshadowed the happiness in him.

You didn’t comment on that and decided to give him time.

Leto insisted you should start sharing the same chambers from now on and he instructed maids and guards that you should never be left alone. He was overprotective, which felt nice but also exhausting at times. You cherished your alone time and now you had none of it.

Whenever he was around you, and that would happen more often these days, he was keeping his hand on your growing belly. His big, warm hand spread widely on the bump, making sure his child would be secure. You would play with the ring on his finger and feel at peace with the whole universe. Everything was the way it should be.

One of those times you noticed Paul’s concerned and angry eyes focused on his father’s hand on your belly. In fact, you hadn’t had a conversation with Paul about your pregnancy. You were still helping him with homework and going on walks together but you could sense Paul distancing himself from you and Leto recently.

“He’s a man now. He doesn’t need to be talked to like he’s a child,” Leto said to you the other day.

“He’s a teenager,” you sighed. “I was one, too, not so long ago. I will speak to him.”

Before Leto could protest, you left the chambers and hurried to the end of the corridor and to the staircase to reach the floor where Paul had his quarters. Of course two guards followed you like obedient dogs and at times like this, you wanted nothing else but to yell at them to go away.

You couldn’t, though. You knew that being the Duchess carried lots of responsibilities and duties. Treating guards and maids awfully was a sign of a bad ruler, even if pregnancy would be an excuse. You didn’t want to disappoint your husband, your servants, yourself and the whole Caladan.

Your father was one of those; yelling at the servants. He thought he could because he was close to the Emperor. And your whole life in your father’s house, you had never felt as safe as now in Caladan because you had never had servants and guards so loyal out of duty, respect and love instead of fear.

Once upon a time you had been thinking that every noble man was like your father. Duke Leto had changed that.

You knocked upon Paul’s door and he muttered a “come in” after a long moment of silence.

You entered his chambers and spotted him sitting on the floor while watching a historical holo and making notes. It was for one of his classes.

When he raised his eyes and saw you, he looked down immediately after.

“Am I bothering you?” you asked with a soft smile and put one of your hands on your belly to caress it gently. It was done out of instinct, you hadn’t even thought of that. But Paul noticed the gesture and gave it a very unpleasant look. “What is troubling you, my Prince?” you tried to ask more officially now.

“Is it the boy you’re carrying?” he asked and turned the holo off before throwing his notes away. “My father’s son?”

“It is too early for the medics to say,” you answered and dared to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn’t react to that and only looked up to still have his eyes on you; squinted and calculating.

“Why are you asking me, dear? Is it a little brother you would want the most?” you asked, naively.

“What does he want? My father? Does he want a boy?” Paul swallowed thickly and you furrowed your brow at the sight of his eyes filling with tears.

“We haven’t had this conversation. I don’t think he cares,” you answered.

“Every man wants a son, so I’ve heard,” Paul sniffled.

“Most men want sons only because they need heirs but your father already has one,” you smiled carefully.

“I want it to be a boy,” he announced and you froze for a second. You couldn’t understand that at all because you had thought that he was actually afraid of being replaced.

“Why?”

“I want you to give him the heir I could never be so he can stop expecting all of this of me. I don’t want to be the Duke,” Paul whispered and looked down to hide his tears from you. “But I know it means I’m going to lose his love. I’m going to lose it anyway when the child comes so let’s hope it’s a boy at least… So I am no longer with a burden of power.”

You took a deep breath in and sighed. Damn you, Leto, you thought. He had been the one saying that Paul didn’t need to be talked to…

“Your father loves you,” you reached out your hand to caress his shoulder. “In fact, I am going to reveal something to you since you’ve been so honest with me. He loves you so much that sometimes I am afraid he would never love that child in me as much as he loves you,” you confessed to him and he looked up again; his cheeks all wet and his beautiful eyes reddened.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged your arms in response. “It’s that little voice in my head telling me that but I can see you can hear it, too,” you let out a chuckle and fixed his ruffled hair. “He loves you and nothing will change that love, no matter if you want to be the Duke or not. I am sure you would be a wonderful one and so is your father but I don’t think he would ever force you to do anything. If it’s a son in me, it won’t mean you will no longer be an heir, my dear. Maybe your brother won’t want the title either…?”

“Imagine having two sons and neither of them wanting to be the Duke,” Paul snorted and so did you. “My father would be very unlucky then.”

“I don’t think he would consider himself unlucky. Having two sons is already a great happiness for every parent,” you caressed Paul’s cheek. “And what if it’s a girl? I think it would be wonderful to have a little girl in the palace. Will you love her?”

“I will,” Paul nodded and smiled, nuzzling his face into your hand. “I’ve had this conversation once already, with my real mother,” he revealed.

You froze for a while, realizing what he had just said. Real mother, so you were the substitute mother, which meant that in some way he was seeing a mother in you. He wasn’t much younger than you although you knew you had been presenting yourself more mature – women had to grow up faster than boys in the world like this. It still felt odd that in some way he was treating you like a mother and that he wanted you to caress his cheeks and ruffle his hair but then again, he had lost his real mother as a young child and never again had a woman taking care of him.

“Please, don’t die like her,” Paul nearly begged. “My father won’t survive this again,” he whispered but you both knew that he had meant himself, too.

“I won’t die,” you cracked a smile. “I promise.”

“There you are,” a familiar voice interrupted you and you both looked at the door where Leto had been standing. “Is everything alright?” he furrowed his brow at the sight of your hand caressing his son’s wet cheeks.

“Yes, it is,” you nodded your hand. “What is it, darling?”

“I’ve just received the news that I think might be happy for you,” Leto smiled. “Your father wants to pay us a visit.”

You felt like a little girl again, shuffling your feet impatiently between the folds of your dress as your slightly trembling hands clasped around Leto’s arm. Your smile was wide, your hair and makeup done so pretty that you had spent an hour admiring your own self in the mirror. You wanted your parents to see you were happy here and that your life was good. You wanted them to be proud.

When you heard voices behind the door, your heart skipped a beat but when the door opened and you only saw your father and one of his servants walking inside, your smile dropped.

“Father!” you left Leto’s side and ran up to him, breaking all the rules of the protocole.

However, your father only gave you a scolding look and walked past you to greet your husband.

“Duke Atreides,” he shook his hand firmly as you turned around, hurt and confused.

“Lord (Y/L/N),” Leto greeted him without a smile and then he gave you a sympathetic look.

“Duchess,” your father finally extended his hand towards you in the most official manner.

“Father,” you insisted on not calling him by his surname and you shook his hand back. “I thought mother would come with you…”

“It’s a business trip, my Lady,” he gave you a fake smile and turned around to speak to your husband, abandoning you completely.

You felt like a fool in that dress and hair, the makeup. Was that all he would give you…? Not a single compliment, not a single hug?

“...I’ve heard the Duchess is expecting, that makes the Emperor happy…” you heard a part of their conversation and his eyes finally looked at you again. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I will find out tomorrow,” you told him.

“Excellent. We really hope for a boy. That’s what every man wants, is it not?”

We. Like him and the Emperor were the one. What a fool he was, thinking that he meant anything to him… What a naive idiot.

You left the room and decided to go back to your chambers for the rest of the evening.

However, around midnight you were getting bored and quite irritated with the fact your father had been spending all that time in your husband’s office, discussing business and politics. You decided to interrupt them and remind Leto of the late hour. You were sure your father would find it outrageous but Leto would be grateful because he had never been a fan of your father’s company.

You put the robe on your nightgown and tip-toed out of your bedroom. The guard wasn’t there, probably left to stand by the window at the end of the corridor for a while. You took advantage of it and sneaked out to reach Leto’s office.

You stood by the door and you were about to knock upon them but then you heard the conversation taking place.

“Why is the Emperor against the alliance I have made?” Leto asked, irritated. “What is wrong with the alliance?”

“It was made without his permission,” your father reminded him.

“Do I need his permission every time I make an alliance? It doesn’t make sense, the more alliances we have, the more powerful the whole Empire is…”

“Making alliances of your own, my Duke… One might think you’re getting them not for the Emperor but for your own self,” your father sneered.

“Why would I need them?” Leto sighed.

“You know perfectly well why.”

“I am not planning a rebellion against the Emperor. I am loyal to him,” Leto gritted his teeth.

“I know, for now you are. I know everything that is going on here,” you could hear your father’s smirk through the walls and the door. And then, a long silence.

“How?” your husband eventually let out a laugh.

“My dear daughter writes to me regularly. You are being watched, let me remind you,” the vicious words of your father made you gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. It was not true. Why had he said that?

“I am aware,” Leto’s voice changed. It was cold now, so cold like you didn’t even remember now that it could be. You knew he was just playing along so he wouldn’t look like a fool but he was angry.

“Are you really? It seemed to me earlier that day you hold real feelings for my daughter. You didn’t scold her for breaking the protocol and she acted like a schoolgirl instead of the Duchess. It seems to me that you have fallen for her attempts to make you like and trust her. She’s a good actress, always has been. She even tricked you into a child and you know perfectly well that the only person wanting it is the Emperor. He wants someone to replace your son because Prince Paul Atreides is already rotten by your rebellious influence.”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest for a while. One moment earlier you wanted to storm in and scream “It is not true!” but now you felt powerless. You felt like too much damage had been done by your father’s words to just storm inside and yell that those were fake accusations. That he was a cruel man, that you loved your husband, loved his son and loved his child inside you. That you wanted this child and couldn’t give a damn about the Emperor. That those days when you had feared the Emperor were gone now because you had Leto by your side.

No, it was too late now and you were too hurt. You just went back to your chambers, feeling nauseous and trembling out of fear. What would Leto’s reaction be to your father’s lies?

“My Lady?!” a surprised guard widened his eyes at the sight of you approaching him. “When did you leave the bedroom? I haven’t seen you!”

“You should have stayed by the door then, instead of going away on your watch!” you screamed at him and went inside the bedroom, not sparing him a second glance.

You took a deep breath in and opened the door again. He looked at you, scared.

“I’m sorry. I needed a walk, I’m a bit anxious… it’s because of the hormones,” you lied. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please, forgive me.”

A Duchess asking her servant for forgiveness. Your father would be really disappointed in you now.

“I have already forgotten, my Lady,” the guard smiled at you sincerely and you sighed out of relief. “Good night, Duchess.”

“Good night, darling,” you closed the door but you didn’t go to sleep. You couldn’t.

You waited for Leto to come back. You were nervous and scared so when you finally heard his footsteps, you almost jumped out of the bed.

“Is the Duchess asleep already?” he asked the guard.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“I will not disturb her then. I’ll go to my own chambers,” he said and just like that he walked away.

Your heart wouldn’t find peace on that night apparently.

He wasn’t present during breakfast either and right after you were supposed to see the medic to find out the gender of your baby. You thought Leto would be there with you but he wasn’t waiting for you with the medics either so you went through the process without anyone. It was quick and painless but it still felt empty and meaningless if you were there completely alone.

With the results in a golden envelope, you walked the halls of the palace slowly, contemplating what to do now.

“My Lady, your father is about to leave Caladan. Do you wish to say goodbye to him?” one of the maids approached you.

“No, thank you,” you faked a smile at her and her eyes widened but she didn’t comment. She only nodded her head and walked away.

You took a deep breath in and decided to go to Leto’s office. When he didn’t answer your knocking, you pushed the door open but then you noticed the room was empty.

You hurried to his chambers and that was when you spotted his maid making up the bed. She informed you that he went out to fly.

“The Duke wanted to clear out his head,” she said. “He should be back soon.”

You nodded your head and thanked her. Your next destination was the hangar. You knew that flying was Leto’s passion and that was something he had wanted to do instead of being the Duke when he was young. However, he didn’t have much time for that now and you had never witnessed him actually doing that.

It was your first time seeing him jumping out of the plane in a flying suit and you had to admit it looked good on him. It made you smile to see him like this and you ran up to him, still squeezing the envelope in your hand.

“My love!” you greeted him and he froze at the sound of your voice. Eventually, he sighed and turned around.

He couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating and even if he could, he probably blamed it on your run instead of your stomach-twisting nerves. You were terrified of him at that moment and while you knew he would never hurt you physically, you were scared of the damage he would do to your heart now. His eyes were cold and distant but also full of pain.

“I wasn’t asleep last night, I was waiting for your return and then I overheard what you said to the guard,” you swallowed thickly. “Then I couldn’t see you at breakfast and I think you forgot that I had my appointment with the medics later… But it’s alright!” your high-pitched voice sounded desperate and you hated yourself for it. “It’s alright, my dear, it’s not a big deal. I asked them not to tell me so we still could experience it together,” you handed him the envelope. “Oh, please, will you open it? I want to know so badly!” you pleaded like an impatient child.

Leto didn’t say anything. The look he gave you was a mix of resentment and pity. Despite that, he tore the envelope open and read the words on the piece of paper that had been inserted inside by the medic earlier that day.

“It’s a boy,” he said without any emotion and handed you the paper and the envelope back. You saw the news with your own eyes and your eyes glistened with tears.

“Oh! I am so happy! Paul will be happy, too!” you sniffled your happy tears back.

“Why would he be happy to be replaced?” Leto asked coldly and left your side to approach the door of the hangar. You furrowed your brow and rushed after him.

“That is what he wants, don’t you know? He doesn’t want to become the Duke, that’s what he told me,” you tried to grab Leto’s sleeve but he was pulling away every time.

“We never do when we are young but we grow up and change our minds,” Leto said without looking at you.

“I know, I’ve told him he would be a wonderful Duke and there is no guarantee that the new boy would even want to be one either. Anyway, it will feel nice to Paul to know that maybe he is going to have a choice. That if he decides that governing is not for him at all, he won’t leave the Caladan without a ruler. But it’s useless to talk about now, my love, it won’t be something to worry about in a long time now and we should just focus on what’s now and that’s so wonderful to have a little boy, don’t you think?” you sounded so desperate and pathetic that you were even surprised that you could do that.

“He was right,” Leto stopped suddenly in the middle of the way from the hangar to the palace and you stopped right after him, “you’re really a good actress. And I was a fool.”

“No, he was not right!” You sniffled and took a step back, hurt by his words.

“How do you know what I’m talking about?” Let furrowed his brow. “You were spying on me?”

“I am not spying on you! I went to your office around midnight to remind you of the late hour and I overheard the conversation. I wanted to storm inside and stop it but some things my father said were too hurtful for me, so I just turned around and left. I spent the whole night tossing and turning, terrified of your reaction because I could hear in your voice that you had believed his vicious lies. He is disappointed in me because I am not spying on you so he decided to pretend in front of you that I do, so you still feel invigilated and watch yourself. Such behavior is not below him but…” your voice cracked before you took a deep breath in, “...but I am disappointed, dear husband, that you believed those lies. That you still don’t trust me, that you still don’t love me enough to know better,” you raised your head high despite your trembling chin and you walked past him to go back to the palace, leaving him alone in the middle of the way.

You were in your chambers with a book you couldn’t focus on at all. You felt relieved now when you already had told your husband that you knew about his conversation with your father but at the same time you couldn’t quite tell what would be his next step because obviously the next one was his to make.

So you were mostly just staring at the wall in front of you while resting on the pillows on your side of the bed and the book was just an accessory in your hand.

When the doors opened without knocking, you knew it had to be Leto because no one else would dare to enter the Duchess’ bedroom like that.

However, you decided not to look at him and treat him as coldly as he used to treat you in the morning. To give him a taste of his own medicine.

You pretended to read the book and with the corner of your eye you were following his movements. He was now dressed usually and he sat on the edge of your bed carefully before daring to place his hand on your wrist and making you lower the book down. You laid your eyes on him, irritated.

“Will you ever forgive me?” he whispered.

He sounded so broken and sincere that your heart almost felt pity for him.

“Will it always look like this?” you asked him with a sigh. “You doing something awful to me and then asking for my forgiveness, acting like a beaten dog by my bed?”

“I know it’s the second time. Two too many to happen and one too many to forgive,” Leto cleared his throat as his voice was starting to get raspy.

“Why did you believe him?” your eyes filled with tears again. “Why? What have I done those past few months that made me unworthy of your trust?”

“Nothing, my love you’ve done nothing wrong,” he raised your hand and placed a kiss upon it. “He was convincing and he is your father. I could see the way he was treating you but still, as a parent myself, I couldn’t imagine a father lying like that about his own daughter. It seemed to me to be too cruel, so I assumed he had to be telling the truth. I was wrong, I know, and it cost you a sleepless night and a lot of worry, which is very unrecommended in your state and I will never forgive myself for that but I hope for your forgiveness at least… I know it’s greedy to ask for,” Leto lowered his forehead to press it to your hand.

“If my father’s doing is too cruel for you to comprehend, then I am glad you are the father of my child,” you wiped your tears with your free hand and you giggled. He looked up, surprised. “I forgive you, old fool, how can I not? Don’t be too harsh on yourself either; after all, nothing terrible has happened. Just a little misunderstanding,” you caressed his cheek and hair.

“Your father should understand one thing,” Leto moved closer with a smile and cupped your face in his hands. “How could I not be loyal to our Emperor when he was the one to send you to me?”

MASTERLIST

[lesbian-deadpool]

The One With The Birth

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 3,971

Warnings: Pregnancy, labour, and everything that comes with it. Talks of a dickhead ex, talks of castration, mistakes... thank that’s it.

Request: No.

Summary: Waiting for your friends lives to change forever, little were you to know that yours would soon be changing forever also.

A/N: This is 100% bc I watched this episode of Friends recently, and the fact that I absolutely adore Joey in the episode. Ergo fic. I feel like it kinda dwindles off at the end, but meh.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

---

The Atmosphere of the delivery waiting room was a notably weird one.

Mostly it was just a lull drawl, people waiting, sitting, pacing, worrying. Some even sleeping.

Then.

The rug would be pulled out from under everybody. And in came a random pregnant woman, sometimes screaming, sometimes crying. Coming through the room, disrupting the calm, then through another set of doors, ready to have their baby.

You weren't alone in the waiting room. Joined by your friends, scattered around the room. Wanda sat in a chair close to yours, flipping through an old magazine. Pietro, across from you, in an awkward position, but still trying not to take up too much space, snoring away. Thor, pacing back and forth behind you, biting his fingernails, anxiety eating up inside him. And Valkyrie. The one who was dealing with her responsibilities and was on the hospital phone to her work. As you all waited for Carol and Maria to have their baby.

Your attention was brought over to Wanda as she cooed.

The brunette was looking over the back of her chair, eyes following the woman being wheeled out with new-born twins in her arms.

Turning back around, she said, "I want one."

"Well, they obviously have a spare. Why don't you ask them."

"You do realise I'm a twin, right?" she asked.

Pointing over at the still sleeping Pietro, you replied, "You're telling me that he's not a spare?"

Wanda was silent for a few moments, just watching her older twin brother. As he coughed and choked on his spit, woke up for a second before manoeuvring around and falling right back asleep.

"Okay, maybe you're right."

It wasn't long after that that you were left alone.

Or alone as you possibly could be with Pietro still sleeping soundly -and noisily- before you. Wanda, having dragged Thor away to visit Carol and Maria, and explore the hospital, to try and calm his anxiety. And Valkyrie on a coffee run.

That was when she walked in.

She wasn't screaming. She wasn't crying. It didn't even seem like she was in that much pain.

And she was alone.

But you were too engrossed in watching the TV to notice.

That was until the pregnant red-head stood right next to where you sat.

Your arms were spread out across the back of the sofa, eyes squinting, top lip drawn up in concentration.

"Your team winning?"

"No. I'm just trying to figure out how this game's played-" You turned to look at the woman striking up a conversation with you. When you were met, face to face, with a heavily pregnant belly. "-Woah!"

You shuffled awkwardly and semi-embarrassed in your seat, all the while the woman smiled down at you.

"Sorry," you apologised bashfully.

"It's alright. I'm sorry I was so clo- Oh!"

"Oh." You jumped up, scared at the woman's sudden pain. Hopping around her and her dropped bag, as she held her stomach. You started pointing at her hastily, looking around and calling, "We need a father over here! A mother! A parent! Anybody!"

"There's," the red-head gasped, "There's no one. I'm here alone."

"Oh." You stopped your bouncing to look at her intently. "Oh. I'm sorry."

She let out a breath, slowly straightening up, "It's okay. You didn't kno- Ow!" she screamed and buckled in pain once again. Scaring the daylights out of you, once again.

You jumped slightly in place before reaching out for her and her bag.

"Comon, let me help you. All the other pregnant women are going through this door."

Directing her forward, you used your foot to kick open the door and lead her into the labour rooms.

Pietro never once waking up during it all.

---

"Thank you, kind stranger," the red-head spoke as you helped her get settled in bed, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be.

You smiled and gestured to yourself, "I'm Y/N."

"Natasha." She outstretched her hand, and you shook it.

"It's nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Umm..." you spoke awkwardly, looking around the bare maternity room, "Maybe I should..." You pointed behind you with your thumb. "Maybe I should go...?"

"Okay." Natasha nodded, hiding the sudden hurt she felt at the aspect of being alone. Again.

She really didn't want to have this baby alone.

Not even a second after you had left the room and the door had closed behind you, you walked back in.

Natasha's eyes had widened when you stepped back into the room and hovered awkwardly between the door and her bed.

"I. I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'll be fine by myself. You don't have to worry about me. We don't even know each other."

Deep down, Natasha wanted to thank you. Ask you to stay.

"Well, that's true." You gestured to her. "We don't know each other. And I'm not saying that you can't do this alone, or anything like that," you rambled on, "But, no one should be alone during this."

"I won't be alone. I'll have the doctors-"

"You know that's not what I mean."

Natasha watched you for a few long moments before she smiled shyly, "Thank you," she whispered.

"My pleasure."

---

You watched with a smile on your face, arms crossed over your chest as Natasha spoke on the phone with her mother.

"Yes, mama, I know. It's not your fault you didn't know I would be going into labour now." A few moments pause, as she listened to the other woman speak, "I know. I know you'll be here soon. I- No, I'm not calling him!"

Your eyes widened at this, looking anywhere but the red-head, trying to ignore the part of the conversation that was very obviously about the baby's father.

"I don't care if it's his kid he doesn't give a damn about either of us!"

Your shoulders tensed at that. Loathing filling you for a man you didn't even know.

How could someone be so awful to leave this woman and her baby, not giving a single care in the world about them?

"No, mama, I'm not alone. Y/N's here." A bright smile overtook your face as you looked at her again, her peering up at you with a small smile of her own at your reaction, "What do you mean, Y/N who?" Natasha moved to cover the receiver with her hand, whispering to you, "Y/N who?"

"Y/L/N," you whispered back.

"Y/N Y/L/N... Yeah, okay, hold on." Natasha stretched her arm out to you, phone in hand, and a blank look upon her face. "She wants to talk to you."

Glancing down at the phone with sudden fear in your eyes, you shook your head at the woman. Taking a minuscule step back when she gestured the phone to you, still shaking your head.

"Take the phone," Natasha ordered, which you complied with instantly.

"Hi? Hello?"

A clear Russian voice rang through the phone, "Y/N?"

"Yeah, it's me," you said like you had known the strange woman for years, sending Natasha an almost distraught look with a shrug.

"Are you dating my daughter?"

"What?!" you asked, shocked, "No, no. We're just... we're just... friends?" you questioned. It unknown to you if you could class this as a friendship with Natasha, as you two had met less than an hour ago.

"Well, are you single?"

"Yeah."

"And how old are you, Y/N?"

"I'm 25."

"Hmm, okay." You felt like she was testing you. Which she definitely was. "And what do you do for a living?"

"Oh, I'm an Actor," you said proudly, only getting the sound of the dial tone in reply, "Hello?"

And you had just failed the test.

You gave an award chuckle as you returned the phone back on the receiver.

"She's Russian." Natasha shrugged like that was enough of an explanation to her mother's reaction to your occupation.

"Yeah, I could tell from the accent."

The red-head smiled up at you.

"So... I hate to bring it up." Her smile fell. Knowing exactly where your sentence was heading. "But the father seems like a real piece of work."

"Yeah, he's a hoot," Natasha remarked sarcastically. A few seconds passed before she spoke again, "I don't really have the best taste in men... I fell for him. Hard. And... he saw me as a good fuck."

You looked down at her, eyebrows furrowing in pity for the woman.

"When I told him I was pregnant, he denied it was his, called me everything under the sun, and said he wanted nothing to do with either of us. He accused me of being a cheater. When he was just doing that behind my back, with every woman, he could."

"What a jackass," you hissed, "You want me to kick his ass?"

Natasha giggled lightly, "Nah. He's not worth it. He doesn't deserve either of us, anyway."

"You're damn right about that."

The smile had returned to her beautiful face, cocking her head as she looked up at you.

Thinking about how lucky she was to have you with her right now.

Little did she know you were thinking the exact same.

---

Natasha, it seemed, was in fast labour. The doctors and midwives all telling you that it wouldn't be long now, an hour or two maybe, tops.

A midwife had actually been there when Natasha's water had broke.

The red-head being stood at that point. With you behind her, holding onto your hands, as contractions passed through her.

You literally didn't know how she was doing it.

Wondering if Maria was taking it as well as Natasha was.

A guttural scream had just finished pouring from her mouth when a splashing sound could be heard, and she looked down at the sudden wetness seeping through her pyjama pants and pooled across the floor.

"Oh."

"Oh?" you asked, looking over her shoulder exactly what she was looking at, her turning to look up at you. "Oh, what-? What the hell is that?! Did you just pee-? I mean, there's no shame if you did."

"Don't worry. It's just her water breaking."

"Water breaking?! What-?! What does that mean?! Is she having the baby now? Does she need to lay down-? Is she gonna start pushing-?!"

"Breathe," the midwife interrupted your blind panic, helping you through with your breathing, just like she had done with the red-head mere moments ago. "Breathe. Breathe."

Natasha leaned her damp forehead against your cheek, eyes closing at the feeling, taking a raggedy deep breath before bending forward once again, releasing another yell of pain.

"Oh my, God! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said through her teeth, glancing over her shoulder to find your worried gaze, "Are you okay?"

"You're asking me if I'm okay?!"

Natasha threw her head back once the contraction had passed, panting heavily on your shoulder.

"Thank you for being here," she whispered, utter exhaustion pouring from her.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," you spoke just as soft, and you truly meant it. As the midwife came forward to help Natasha into her bed. Knowing that it wouldn't be long before the baby came.

---

Screams filled the room, pained and so incredibly over everything that was going on.

Your hand was throbbing below Natasha's tight grip, but knowing that this was nothing compared to what the woman was going through.

"C'mon, honey! You can do it! Push!"

Moving her arm that held your hand up, she used it to pull you down to her face. Forehead's touching as much as they can, as she gave a small sob of pain.

"I don't think I can do this," she whimpered.

"You can," you whispered. Watching intently as Natasha heavily blinked her eyes open, staring deep into yours, finding the sheer belief you have for her shining through. "You can," you repeated, in the same tone, feeling the red-head nod against you, beginning to push again.

With a loud scream, she pushed with all her might.

"There we go, you're crowning."

"That's it?!" you yelled, "She hasn't had the baby yet?!"

"I'm afraid it's not that easy."

"Easy?!" it was Natasha's turn to yell a question at the midwife sitting between her legs.

The red-head looked up at you, afraid.

If she had reacted this way to her just crowning, Natasha truly believed that she couldn't do this.

"You can do this, you hear me?" you told her, much rather than asked, "You can do this. You can do anything. I know you can. I'm not going anywhere, okay? Everything will be okay."

"It's time to start pushing."

Natasha moaned in agony, feeling the excruciating contraction wash over her, "Please don't leave me."

"Never."

---

"Oh my, God. You fucking did it," you spoke, watching as the midwife took the baby away to get them cleaned up.

"You said that I could." Natasha smiled tiredly up at you.

Your attention was drawn to her then, smiling down at her like the sun shone through you, "I told you you could."

"Here you go, mama."

You watched as the small babe was placed into Natasha's arms, just a tiny, wrinkly thing, off coloured with them only being out in the open for a few minutes. And yet, there was still something so preciously beautiful about them.

Natasha gave a breathless laugh as she gazed down at her baby. Tears welling up in her eyes, watching as blue eyes blinked up at her.

"Hello, my darling."

"So, what you gonna call her?" you asked.

"I don't know yet."

She turned to the midwife as the woman spoke, "That's fine. You take your time to decide. I'll be in later with the birth certificate. You just rest."

"Thank you so much."

You watched as the woman left when you remembered why you were here in the first place.

"Actually," you started, turning back to Natasha, "I have to go check on my friends- They're having a baby, too-"

"It's fine. Go." She waved you off, eyes bright with understanding.

"I'll be back. I will."

Natasha just smiled at you as you steadily backed up towards the door, "Go. Make sure your friend's okay."

You took a step towards the door before quickly backtracking and heading towards the exhausted red-head. Before she could utter another word to you, a kiss was pressed against her forehead, making her release a small, quiet gasp, and then you were gone.

Peering down at the wriggling child in her arms, Natasha spoke softly to her daughter, "I think I may have found a good one. Yeah?" she finished with an overly bright smile, one does with a child. Rubbing her finger over the baby's tiny ones as she held her mother's thumb.

Then, just like you had done with the red-head not moments ago, she pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. Unable to wait for what life would lead.

---

Wanda had taken up Valkyries place at the phone, talking to her mother. Who was just as anxious to hear about the news of Carol and Maria's baby as everyone else was.

"Mom, no. There's no news yet. I'll let you know when there is... what? No! Of course, I'm not thinking about having babies. Mom, I'm only 24. I'm not even thinking about kids yet."

"Liar," Pietro uttered, resting against the back of the couch you were sat on hours ago, watching his sister with a knowing look.

Wanda, waving him off harshly, as Valkyrie came up behind her, "No, sign of Y/N. I have no clue where they could have gotten off to." She looked from one twin to the other, before asking Pietro, gesturing behind her with her thumb, "What up with her?"

"She's denying that she wants a baby to mom."

"Ah!"

"Mom! I'm not ready for kids yet! They are the farthest thing from my mind."

Just then, a woman passed her by in a wheelchair, just like earlier. Only this time, Wanda suddenly burst out into tears at the sight, holding the phone to her chest.

She really was a liar.

Thinking on her feet, Valkyrie grabbed the phone from Wanda, making static noises down the line, before hanging up on the twin's mother. Then proceeding to pull the still weeping Wanda into her side.

Unbeknown to everybody in the waiting room that you were on your way to them.

The hallway from the delivery room to the waiting room giving you a chance to feel the exhaustion you felt, all of the stress leaving your body at once, feeling totally drained.

You could only imagine how Natasha felt.

"Where the hell have you been?" Was your greeting as you walked through the door. The booming voice, only able to belong to Thor.

The other's gathering around along with the tall blonde.

You gave a small exhausted sigh, waving your worried friends off tiredly, "Just had a baby."

"How long was I asleep?" Pietro joked.

---

Maria was suffering that much was true, Carol looking about ready to explode out of worry and pity for her wife.

"Don't worry," you told her, removing an arm from where you had them folded against your chest, gesturing to the woman's swollen belly, "You're only at nine centimetres. The baby can't come yet."

"You're really starting to scare me," Pietro uttered from beside you.

"Yeah," Carol continued, looking at you with shocked curiosity, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, we didn't tell you?" Valkyrie asked, "Y/N, here had a baby."

"What?!" Carol yelled shocked.

But before she could continue, Maria let out a pained scream, reaching over for the closest thing that wasn't her wife's hand -of which seemed she hadn't let go of for a long time-, which just happened to be Thor.

The blonde screamed out himself, only in surprise... and pain. Considering his position, and thanks to his height, she had grabbed a fistful of his groin.

He groaned loudly. "Somebody wanna help me? She's trying to castrate me!"

Everyone rushed to pull Maria's hand from him, Wanda instead taking her place and holding her hand.

Thor, instantly moving to look down his pants to make sure everything was alright, "Oh, that's great." He looked around on the floor, "Anybody seen my penis? It seems to have been removed."

"Sorry, bro. There's no chance of anybody finding something that small," you quipped, even managing to get a laugh from a pain-filled Maria.

"Get this demon out of me!"

"It's our baby, honey," Carol corrected her gently.

"Oh, I disagree," she bit back.

---

Gently opening the door to Natasha's room, you peered in, wanting to make sure it was okay for you to enter. Spotting a sleepy red-head smiling back at you.

"Hey. Did you two have a good nap?"

She nodded, gesturing you inside.

"I went to the gift shop."

Opening the door fully, you pulled the floating balloons into the room, with a bold 'CONGRATULATIONS on one and 'IT'S A GIRL' written on the other. Smiling proudly from them to Natasha, receiving a giggle from her. Coming closer, you waved the flowers gently from side to side.

"I got you some flowers."

"Thank you," she whispered, watching as you laid them upon her bedside table.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Tired... fucking exhausted."

You chuckled at her, "Yeah, I bet you are."

Neither of you could exchange any more words as the child began fussing inside the hospital cot.

"Aww, sweety. It's okay. Mommy's here," Natasha spoke, manoeuvring herself around the bed to sit on its side. Pulling her daughter into her arms.

Soon enough, you had walked around the bed and were now sitting beside the red-head cradling her daughter to her chest.

"Is she your first?"

Natasha's only reply was a soft nod and a kiss to the babe's temple.

At that moment, your eyes being filled with the soft sight of a mother loving her new-born child, seeing the unspoken vow that she would never let her come to any harm. The only thing you could think of was how beautiful Natasha was.

It startled you somewhat.

Having barely known the woman for four hours.

And yet, it just... it just felt right.

"You're a natural."

She turned to you with a smile. One that you had been gifted with so much today. And you just couldn't imagine never seeing that from her again.

"Oh!" You remembered suddenly reaching out behind you, pulling the stuffed toy from where you had stuffed it into your back pocket. "I got the little one this."

Natasha cooed and the black and white capuchin money, taking it from your hand to show her daughter. "Look what Y/N bought you. What are we gonna call him?"

"Marcel." You beamed happily, the red-head turning to look at you with a questioning look, to which you gave a joyful half-shrug.

"Marcel, it is. This is Marcel," she introduced the monkey to the child.

Little fingers curled into the plush, soft fur of the teddy, eyes intent upon the monkey's face.

"She loves him."

"I'm glad."

"Hey, how was your friend."

You huffed a sigh, "They're okay. She had the baby- Baby's fine, too. Eventually. Your labour was way faster than hers."

She hummed at your statement, not knowing what to say, instead choosing to spin in her place, moving closer to you.

"What are you doing?" you asked apprehensively, guessing what was about to happen.

With great gentleness, Natasha placed the baby into your arms. Sitting back to be pressed into your side, looking over your shoulder down at her child.

"Oh," it was barely more than a whisper as you peered down at her in your arms. One hand under her tiny head, the other resting along her back, keeping her a few inches away from your body out of anxiety alone, "She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?"

At the feeling of Natasha resting her chin upon your shoulder, you turned to face her. Barely an inch between the both of you.

Green eye's flicking up to yours, and suddenly the world slowed to a stop, wordlessly you both leaned in, lips connecting in a soft kiss.

It lasted only seconds before you were forced apart by the door opening and the midwife walking in.

"Oh, Good, everyone's awake," she spoke in a chipper voice. Not realising she had interrupted an intimate moment, nor your and Natasha's embarrassed looks, "Any decisions on names yet?"

"Yes." The red-head nodded. "Danica."

"It's beautiful," you uttered softly, watching as the babe cooed in your arms, "I think she agrees."

Natasha giggled, returning to her previous position, chin resting on your shoulder, watching Danica with nothing but love in her eyes.

"And what's your name again, dear?"

"Huh?" you looked up, only to find the midwife already looking at you, inquiry in her eyes. If you weren't so distracted by the new-born, you would have realised what was happening at that moment. And the same could be said for Natasha. "Oh, I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

She turned back to what she was doing, and you turned back to the baby. Only now feeling the need flowing from Natasha tenfold, "You want her back?" You smiled knowingly, receiving a nod in return.

As soon as you had passed Danica back to her mother, the midwife came over with the birth certificate in hand.

"Congratulations," she said, handing you the piece of paper, and walked from the room.

"Thank you," Natasha managed to reply before she left.

"Uh... Natasha?"

She hummed, turning to see you staring at Danica's birth certificate.

"She put my name on it."

"What?"

Natasha's eyes grew wide when you showed her the proof of your statement.

"Well," you spoke down to the blinking babe, "This is gonna be a funny story you're gonna get told when you're older."

---

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess, @wannabe-fic-reader, @vancityfire13, @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

[wincestisasincest]

Waves on the Shore - Chapter 11: Felix, Graves, and Cassandra

Viktor x Fem!Reader slow burn enemies to lovers

x posted on ao3 // WOTS masterlist

Summary: Jayce and Viktor questioning you about your weapon (made with farm-fresh Hextech) is the only thing keeping you from going to jail for science crimes. You and Viktor are literally at each others throats lmao. Also you’re from Bilgewater because pirates are fucking rad

Notes: *explodes the wall and enters with the John Cena theme playing* IT'S ME HERE WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER. If you were not aware, the chapters are taking longer now because I am trying to hold my life together with scotch tape, so that is why this one took 100000000 years to get out. Don't worry, you are all still my beloveds.

Also also, the characters of Felix and Graves mentioned in this chapter are real champions in League lore and I tried to be faithful but yeah you can look them up if you're curious, they're some of my fav league characters

Anyway, yeah, thank you for reading as always and enjoy this all new episode of iCarly

Word Count: 9.5k

Tags (the tags are being super weird right now I had to tag people from my phone and stuff so if you're tagged but it didn't show up lmk please i hate this website): @edenstarkk @modernamilf @dedicated2viktor @doctorho @yeehawbvby @arcaneparx @the-lake-is-calling

Mentions of: Decapitation, hypothermia, suicide (sort of), hospital mental health wards

Triggers: Dismembered body parts, people being not mentally well, self harm (sort of, same deal as last time), implied poisoning, KNIVES, blood, language

Viktor waited for an answer, but you just gawked at him. The formaldehyde stank hung in the air, and your knife, which he could only assume you’d broken yourself, was curled like a rat under one of the cabinets. 

He blinked, about to move closer, and you finally snapped out of your daze. 

“If you fucking touch me, I’ll throw this shit into your eyes,” you hissed. 

Viktor furrowed his brow dumbly. Your arms had fresh blood just above the elbow - crescent shaped, correlating with the rusty edges of your fingernails. Your knuckles were swollen and pink, with irritated flesh peeling back as you crushed your fingers around the cup. Yet your face, with tight eyes and an automatic scowl, had the lingering confusion of someone who’d just woken up from a bad dream. 

“Have you lost your mind?” Viktor stepped further into the room, cane clacking against the floor - a warning to you and the gods. 

“I’m fucking serious,” you shouted when he didn’t stop moving, eyes darting between the circuit and him, gradually becoming wiser to his play, “Oh, I see. Right, you or the circuit. You’d lose your eyesight for this fucking circuit. Of course. I should’ve seen that coming.” 

“Yes, you should’ve,” he parroted, stopping several feet closer to you.

“The circuit’s not gonna fuck you, man.” 

“The circuit means everything to Jayce,” Viktor exhaled, “Would you consider leaving it intact for him?” 

“Even if I believed you, you’re gonna tattle on me regardless, so...” you slammed the cup on the table, resting your other hand on your hip. 

“Actually, I’m not.” 

“Funny, I don’t believe that either,” you cooed, as though it took any mental effort to not believe something. 

Viktor could feel his heartbeat getting faster every time he looked into your stupid, smug eyes, covered with a sheen of willful ignorance. It was almost like you were proud of this little stronghold you’d built yourself, where you could keep out anything that would change your mind.  

“Of course you don’t believe it,” Viktor growled, “You’re too busy having a godsdamned mental breakdown. Shall I spell it out for you?” 

You pursed your lips awkwardly, and that was all the answer he needed. 

“I’m not willing to have you removed from our research,” Viktor’s fingers perked with hostility, “not now, and not for attempted destruction of company property. So don’t cross that line, or else we will both have to deal with the consequences.” 

“Oh gods, this shit again,” you rolled your eyes, “Y’know, pretty bold of you to tell me what to do when you just admitted you’d keep a liability around. Like, I get that I’m good, but-” 

You trailed off when you saw Viktor’s hands shaking with rage, like a volcano about to erupt. His fingers were curled, choking an invisible neck, and pure resent weighed down his browbone.

“Good?!” he barked, “No, no, I am good. You- you have surpassed that - me - entirely! You are making things that I could only dream of, you are finding solutions to problems that Jayce and I have been working on since we founded this company! In a week! I was the one who was going to change the world, but next to you, I feel fucking useless!” 

You flinched when he raised his voice, but he was far from done, silently closing in on you with a serpentine walk. 

“And yet, you are so... conflicted about the whole thing. As though this is not worth your time. All of this,” he gestured to the room, “only gets a small fraction of your potential. It makes you miserable, even. The respect that Jayce has for you, the salary you have, the field-changing technology that you have produced... it’s just scratching the fucking surface for you, isn’t it? And I...” he didn’t notice that his vision had blurred until he paused, forcing a breath down his barbed throat, “How?!” 

He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care. He gave up. You’d won, and, once again, you weren’t trying. You hadn’t even backed down from destroying the circuit, and here he was, spilling his petty little secret. He forcefully dragged his hand down his face, like he was trying to rub it all away, and sighed. 

You pulled back slightly, not out of sympathy, just the need to process what he’d dropped on you. It was dead quiet, and Viktor was ready for it to stay that way. 

Then, your eye started to twitch. 

“Are- are you fucking stupid?” you said finally, “Please tell me that’s not what this is about.” 

Viktor’s upper lip curled disdainfully, and he suddenly understood the urge to spit on someone. 

“No! Not like that, you fucking idiot. I mean that you,” you pointed to the center of his chest, “of all fucking people, do not get to be jealous of me. Pull your head out of your ass and look around for a second! This, all of this, is yours. I wouldn’t even be here if you and Jayce never stabilized the hexcrystals in the first place!” you paused, catching your breath as though your own anger had caught you off guard, “You wanna know how I do it? I’m practical and I’m boring. I get a problem, I find the solution, and then I go home. You... I don’t know what you are, but you’re not that.” 

You backed up, putting some distance between yourselves. 

“I read your notes,” you continued, “well I didn’t read them, but I looked at them. With the mouse and the Vitamin C and stuff. Y’know, how you can basically control them with the hexcrytsals? You realize how fucking insane it is that you made Vitamin C your bitch, right? You could save lives, make new species of crops, control plants like a fucking mage! That’s amazing!” 

You threw your hands in the air, far from finished but needing to release some frustration. 

“You... you stayed to talk to Alex. I see why, now. You think it could connect, and you’re probably right,” you swallowed, “So much of what you do, I would’ve never thought of. I would’ve never thought to put the hexcrystals at high frequency. I would’ve never thought to question some slack jawed Rat about her cannon. I would’ve never done anything with that dead mouse besides throw it in the trash. I would’ve never connected with Alex in the way that you did.” 

Your voice lowered, as you paused for a moment to collect yourself. You were figuring Viktor out as you vomited up the words, like he was just another problem for you to solve.

“I don’t know what your fucking deal is, but you need to hop off my dick, because you... you were born to make things. Things that people care about. I don’t make things - I fix other people’s messes,” you inhaled sharply, “Everything that you are, that’s way more valuable to your little cause than this fucking mouse transport machine that I’m killing myself over,” you laughed mirthlessly, “I am so sorry that you’re not enjoying yourself, but it’s time to get the fuck over it.” 

You signified that you were finished by stomping off towards the first aid kit. You tugged the red scarf out of your hair and flung it on the table, mumbling something about a “fucking headache.” 

Viktor’s eyes were glued to your frame, silhouetted against the moonlight as you crossed in front of the window. You, with all your resourcefulness and intelligence and pride, envied what he was doing. The gods were cruel, having the both of you in this funny little knot. Having him be so ineffably stubborn that he’d forgotten about what brought him here. Forgotten about why he had to escalate things from discovery to progress - which he’d completely forgotten to do with his most recent breakthrough. 

He’d have to ask for your thoughts on a Vitamin C augmentor later. 

The worst part was that it probably would’ve stayed that way, had you not pointed it out so bluntly. Sure, Jayce would’ve said something when he noticed his partner was getting all mopey, but it wouldn’t have had the same impact. 

Because you were practical, like you said. You didn’t bullshit, didn’t try to fit anything into some greater narrative. You just called it like you saw it. And you saw something in him that he’d missed entirely. 

Just as he seemed to be the only one in the room to recognize that you were a truly rare person. 

Already past his boiling point, he was more exhausted than he was frustrated. Each pulse of anger shaved years off of his life. He plopped down into the nearest chair and found himself contemplating the humor in it all. 

He exhaled a drained chuckle through his tiny grin. 

“What’s so funny?” you raised an eyebrow as you settled into the farthest chair from him, opening the first aid kit on the table. 

Ah, there you were, ready to pounce like an animal, assuming that the whole world was out to get you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a motivational speech that aggressive,” Viktor said, “It is amusing, I suppose, that we both want each other’s successes.” 

“Yeah, I guess...” you started scraping away the congealed blood above your elbow, “Though, for the record, that’s not why I was about to... y’know, break the thing. I’m not that fucking vindictive.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you scooped up the fresh red coursing down your arm as you reopened the wound, looking back up when Viktor didn’t say anything, “what, you don’t believe me?” 

“No,” Viktor sighed, long and slow, “I believe you. Had sabotaging our research been your goal, I would’ve expected a more foolproof plan.” 

“Careful what you wish for,” you said without a hint of humor. 

The spark of a smile faded from Viktor’s face. Letting this shit go unchecked was dangerous for everyone, most of all you. He was done dancing around the question.

“But you see, now is the part where you tell me what the problem actually was so we can address it and prevent anything like this from happening in the future.” 

“I can fix my own problems,” you patted the cuts dry, and covered them with a bandage, before switching to the other arm. 

“Of course you can,” Viktor granted, “but when it becomes a problem for other people as well, you lose that privilege.” 

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna rat me out,” your eyes jerked up, primed for attack. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” Viktor raised his palms, waiting until the fire in your eyes dwindled before he continued, “no one at the Academy has to know. No one at the Academy will know, in fact, and neither will Jayce.” 

“Why not Jayce?” 

“It would upset him. A lot.” 

“Why?” 

“I already told you. This is everything to him,” Viktor stretched his fingers, “You may tell him, if you want, but I have nothing to gain from upsetting Jayce, nor do I like seeing it happen.” 

“Even if it means lying,” you snorted. 

“Eh... by omission. But it doesn’t matter, because, as I said, this will not continue to be a problem,” his said, sounding strangely diplomatic, “I’ll make this simple for you - either you tell me, or I tell Piltover Medical Center.” 

Your eyes fell to the side for a second, half-lidded with confusion. 

“Uh... okay?” 

“Piltover Medical Center will make you talk to a doctor about your emotional issues.” 

Your face dropped, and you exhaled like a bull about to charge. 

“I don’t have fucking emotional issues,” you choked the cloth with your fingers, gushing the newly red alcohol onto your knuckle wounds. 

“Really? You really want to argue that right now? After you almost killed the project, hurt yourself twice, and threw a knife into the wall so hard that it broke? This is the hill you will die on?” he looked you up and down theatrically. 

The alcohol must’ve hurt, Viktor thought, but you weren’t moving. And gods, did he want nothing more than to smack that cloth out of your hand. 

“Then kick me out already!” 

“Can you stop being so resistant for a single second?” Viktor refused to let you redirect the conversation, “I’m trying to help you.” 

You finally noticed the prickling sting on your knuckles and set the cloth back on the table. Instead of lifting your hand away from it, you held it there for a moment, staring straight into the pink oblivion of the exposed skin. When you looked back up, the reflexive aggression behind your eyes was gone.

“Alright, fine, we can... talk about it,” you ran an alcohol-soaked hand through your hair, “but not now. I’ve run out of feelings for the day.” 

No, that wasn’t quite the reason for your trepidation. You were still holding something back. He couldn’t blame you, but he couldn’t rely on just a promise, either. 

“How do I know that-” 

“Hold on, you’ll get some fucking collateral,” you cut him off, leaving the table to crouch down next to the cabinet. 

When you returned, you slammed down your still-broken knife, your gaze bearing down on him.. The bolt that the blade could open and close on was knocked out, making it limply hang from the hilt. If someone tried to wield that, they would cut their own fingers off. 

“Keep this. Give it back to me when I’ve, uh... told you what you wanted to know, I guess.” 

Viktor and Jayce had talked about this before - the Bilgewater deal. Everything over there was an exchange or a contract of some kind, emphasizing equality among both parties by any means necessary. Viktor imagined that it was all some distorted image of fairness or the “free market,” which just meant the “black market,” though he couldn’t disagree with the basic idea of integrity. 

But he sensed something bigger here. You were testing him, in your own way - to see if he could be trusted with the more important parts of yourself. To see if he could trust you to uphold your end in the same way that you were expected to trust him. 

“Deal.” 

*****

Mel found that giving her staff regular evenings off was mutually beneficial. They enjoyed the free time, and she enjoyed the empty house. Even though the mansion was huge, she never felt like she could breathe in it. The pressure of human presence, of maintaining an image, always left her spent.

She flipped the page of her book - some Demacian epic that she couldn’t be bothered to read in school - and relaxed deeper into the armchair. The fire was warm, and it was terribly cold outside. The cold, her mother had said once, is a hard field to battle on. 

“Councilor Medarda,” one of the few maids on duty, a young woman named Charlotte, shyly lingered in the door, “apologies, there’s a package for you.” 

Mel rose, setting the book face down on the table and letting the silk loungewear that draped over her body straighten itself out, ending just above her ankles. 

“A package? At this hour?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“From who?” 

“There’s no return address, ma’am,” Charlotte thrust the package toward her - if you could even call it a “package.” 

It was about the size of Mel’s hand, wrapped in fetid paper and with craters squashed into every side so that it no longer resembled the rectangular shape it presumably started out as. It looked like someone had taken a normal package, dragged it through a swamp, and then punched it several times. 

“Ah- leave it on my desk. And...” Mel wrinkled her nose, “don’t forget to wash your hands.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Charlotte said, turning on her heel to scurry off into the hall. 

But she paused and sniffed the air. Gently bringing the package up to her nose, she took another sniff, and reeled backwards.

“Are you sure you want this left in your office, ma’am?” she said over her shoulder. 

“It can’t smell that bad,” Mel opened her palm, grimacing when Charlotte relinquished the slimy, barely held together wad. 

Mel copied Charlotte, bringing it up to her nose and waiting for the fumes. 

She gagged, quickly pulling it away from her face and letting Charlotte gently pry it from her hands. It smelled foul, in every sense of the word, like a garbage can left in the sunlight mixed with sewage and rotten eggs. The stench was oddly heavy, too, still clinging to Mel’s person even when she wasn’t holding it. 

“Open it,” she flicked her wrist towards Charlotte, “hopefully it’s something we can dispose of.” 

Charlotte bit her lip, unsure where the package started and ended. At last, she decided to claw open the weakest part of the material with her bare fingers, letting the odor plume into the lounge.

She peered inside and screamed, dropping the package like it was on fire. The brown paper splattered on the floor, and a dismembered finger tumbled out onto the blue carpet. 

*****

Viktor could not find his pants. 

Last night, he worked through a glass of sweetmilk as he slithered out of his clothes, leaving them on the floor so he could change into sleepwear with maximum efficiency. This strategy resulted in him spilling aforementioned sweetmilk on everything he wore that day, but he let it be, figuring he could deal with it in the morning. 

Well, it was morning now, and though the red pool of his shirt was still where he left it, with the sweetmilk dried up but the anise-scented blotch still there, his pants had disappeared without a trace. His pants - the ones that had his ID and keys in them. 

And your knife on his belt. Shit. 

He scoured every inch of his apartment; under his bed, on top of the bookshelves, even in his fridge. Nothing. He was pantsless. The keys and the knife, at least, had to be somewhere in his room, as he’d used the keys to open the door and he remembered hearing the knife thunk when his pants dropped around his ankles. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Yes, I have lost my ID, but if you just check the-” he reached over the secretary’s desk to point out where his name should’ve been. 

“I’m sorry sir, but with increased security on campus we can only allow entry to people with Academy-issued IDs.” 

“Helen, you’ve seen me come in every day for the past year.” 

“I know, but,” Helen sighed, “they’re taking this whole body-found-on-campus thing very seriously, and I don’t blame them. People have already lost their job here because they didn’t follow protocol, so I’m sorry, but I really can’t afford to cut corners now.” 

Viktor leaned both of his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes. 

“Apologies,” he mumbled, “I did not mean to be so rude. It is a stressful time.” 

“It is,” she rested her cheek in her hand, “but you know where you can get a provisional one, right?” 

“Of course,” Viktor straightened his spine, recovering his composure, “do you think I could leave a message, though?” 

*****

“Uh... do we still have that?” 

“He said it’s in the cooler?” 

“Since when was there a cooler?” 

“Whole time.” 

“Oh,” you blinked, “well then I’ll, uh, get ready for transport.” 

Viktor had kept his word; you half-expected him to wake up his best friend in the middle of the night just to tell on you. But, at least for now, Jayce appeared to be none the wiser. 

You still felt guilty, like that time you’d tried to steal the blueprints, but you could handle it. Viktor said that this project meant “everything” to him, and while you didn’t see Viktor as a liar, it was no secret that he virulently protected Jayce and their work.

You would have to verify his words. Just to see what foundations your bargain from the night before was built upon. 

“So... where’d you get the idea for this stuff, anyway?” you tried to ask it casually when Jayce came back into the room, holding the cooler with the lab safety-approved two hands method. 

“Uh, teleporting cadavers?” he plonked the cooler down on the table. 

“No, no, I mean like, portals and all that. It’s not exactly what magic is known for,” you carefully moved the slick, black, Noxian portal circuit, checking for any visible wear from when it had transported the mice a few days ago.

“Hoo boy,” Jayce cracked his neck, “get ready for story time with Jayce.” 

“There’s lore?” 

“Yup. With a test, later,” Jayce grinned, “but seriously, way back when I was, like, 9, my mom and I were returning from a trip up to Targon, and we got stuck in the weather. I’m talking the worst blizzard you’ve ever seen.” 

You’d actually never seen a blizzard, but you weren’t about to interrupt him. His hands were lively, like someone telling a tall tale over a bar counter.

“We were out there, completely lost because we couldn’t see anything, and, on top of it all, my mom was getting hypothermic.” 

“Oh, shit.” 

“Don’t worry, she lives,” Jayce said hastily, before clearing his throat to transition back into his narrator voice, “It’s bad, my mom can’t go any further, and then, out of nowhere, this tall, hooded figure with a staff just appears through the snow. And he offers this to me.” 

Jayce unfastened the bracelet on his hand - the one that he wore every day - and passed it to you. You hesitated, skimming the leather surface with the pads of your fingers, before finally accepting it when he didn’t back down. Embossed in the middle was a dull, blue crystal in the shape of a teardrop, with a rune carved into it by hand. 

“Not the whole thing, just the crystal. And at first, I’m not sure, but then I realize that if I don’t trust him me and my mom are screwed, so I let him help us, and he-” Jayce looked up for a moment, his lips edging apart to display his gap tooth as he recalled the memory with the same awe he must’ve had as a child, “he started doing these motions. I’d realize later that it was the somatic component of the spell, which, as you know, we can create synthetically in the lab, but even then, something about how he did it was just... magical. And there was this flash of blue light, and the next thing I knew, we were at the bottom of the mountain, in the sun, and it’s warm, and everything was okay.” 

“He sapped the crystal,” you observed, pinching the leather band between your fingers. 

“Yup. I guess it was useless so he just... let me have it,” Jayce chuckled, accepting the bracelet when you returned it to him, “but I swear, it was... really something.” 

He was half in the world and half in his head. It was endearing, you thought, the way that he couldn’t even describe his own fixation without dissolving into a puddle of feelings. 

“I believe you,” you said.

“It saved me once, and I think that it can save the Ionians now,” he looked down at you, gap tooth disappearing behind closed, resolute lips. 

Gods, even if you were unsure about this whole Hexgate business, you couldn’t doubt Jayce. He literally wore his heart on his sleeve (or, under his sleeve and on a bracelet). He was... trying. You were both trying. 

And, maybe since he had been so accommodating to you, you could accept your place in his dream. For now.

“And then Viktor came in when he... stole your research after the trial?” you pried, already familiar with the answer but wanting to hear his take on it anyway.

“Yup. We worked out how to stabilize the crystals, but we realized that we needed access to Heimerdinger’s lab to do it, so Vik and I just, uh... broke in.” 

“Ooooooooh,” you went about wiring the portal into the power units, deliberate as clockwork, “how’d you do it?” 

“Don’t get any ideas, we were lousy criminals,” Jayce snorted, hunched over the table tending to the mouse cadaver, “Viktor just had the keys cause he was Heimerdinger’s assistant. Hell, we got caught, too.” 

Your face perked up. This was new information. 

“Caught?” 

“Yup. Mel - Councilor Medarda - wandered onto our crime scene while we were unlocking the door,” amused remembrance shadowed over his face, “Oh, and you wanna know what Viktor said when she found us?” 

“Do I?” 

“He’s there, crouching down at this yordle-height door, and the first thing that comes into his mind to save the situation is ‘wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom,’” Jayce, who was barely holding in the laughter as he said it with the worst Viktor impression possible, finally broke into a wheeze when he finished his sentence. 

You cackled. 

“I take it that didn’t work?” 

“Nah, I had to use the ol’ Jayce charm to convince Mel to turn a blind eye. And now she’s one of our investors.” 

You hummed thoughtfully, putting a finger on your chin as you considered Jayce. Well, considered Jayce and Viktor. Together. Shadows of a bygone, but familiar dynamic eddied through your synapses. 

“What?” Jayce said, and you realized that you’d been staring at him for an uncomfortably long time. 

“You and Viktor... remind me of some people I knew,” you squinted, dreamy with deja vu. 

“Hope they’re good people.” 

“Heh, no... outlaws, actually,” you scratched the back of your neck.

“Names?” Jayce raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah...” you gave him a strained smile, “Felix and Graves?” 

Jayce furrowed his brow, failing to connect the pieces. 

“Tobias Felix and Malcolm Graves?” you tried again.

Jayce clicked his tongue. 

“Ain’t ringin’ any bells.” 

“The only people to ever break into the Clocktower Vault?” 

“Oh!” Jayce snapped his fingers, before his face darkened as he realized what you’d just said, “oh.” 

“I mean, you’re not exactly alike, but the similarities are definitely there. And as someone who has known them personally, I feel qualified to make that comparison.” 

“Wait, you knew them?” 

“Of course I did. Back when they were, uh, small-time, we did a few jobs together.” 

“Like what?” Jayce asked incredulously. 

“Not important,” you dismissed, “it’s just weird that you both had, like, near instant friendships and then sealed the deal with a high stakes crime. That’s not... common. Though, I guess you’re better where it matters, because-” 

“We have 3 minutes,” Viktor rushed in through the door, heading straight for his mountain of notes on the corner table. 

He was well-rested, but disheveled. And his pants... was that plaid?

“Fashionably late, I see,” Jayce crooned as Viktor flicked through the pages. 

“Shut up.” 

“Why do you even have those?” 

“They were cheap. Pants are pants.” 

No, these were burgundy pants with gray and black lines crossing over in a plaid pattern. They were adorned with a delicate bronze button that matched the ones on his vest. 

“You kinda look like a cardshark,” you turned to Jayce, jerking your chin in Viktor’s direction, “y’know, Felix was a card shark.” 

“Who’s-” Viktor checked his watch again, “ugh, nevermind. 2 minutes. Is everything ready?” 

“Uh, yeah, I think so...” Jayce gave the mouse cadaver a final, reluctant inspection, “hey, does he know that we’re sending him a dead mouse?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Penny?” 

“All yours,” you abandoned the circuit, satisfied with your work. 

You, like Jayce, were not sure why he would want to transport a dead mouse back to Noxus, especially on such short notice. He’d dropped the news on you this morning, with the additional note that he was running late and you had to set it up for him. Apparently, it had something to do with a lost ID. 

Watching him fuss about the room, especially with those pants, you felt that your earlier comparison was even more on point. He had the same fractious, persistent cunning of Felix, taking calculated risks with the conviction of a zealot. It balanced out Jayce’s (and Graves’) bold, if sometimes foolhardy, tenacity, that kept the duo moving forward. 

A similar relationship naturally followed. 

“1 minute.” 

Come to think of it, you were never really sure what the specific nature of Felix and Graves’ relationship was. They were obviously friends, ride or die ones at that, but there were always murmurings of something more. And seeing them reflected in Viktor and Jayce...

It was none of your business.

But it made sense. Viktor thought it sounded reasonable that he was sneaking Jayce into his bedroom, after all. Jayce was physically affectionate with Viktor. And Viktor seemed jealous of the friendship - you supposed you could call it that now - with Jayce. Hell, they even referred to each other as ‘partners,’ and while you assumed that meant research partners, you weren’t so sure now.

It was none of your business, but you really wanted to know. 

Viktor smiled at Jayce, giving him an affirmative nod. You remembered that one time he smiled at you. Even as you got used to his presence, his face was still refreshingly handsome every time you saw it. Have gave smiles like those to Jayce all the time. 

Viktor looked down at his watch and Jayce primed his hand on the dial.

“10.” 

They relied on each other so easily, meanwhile you had to give Viktor collateral so he could be certain that you’d keep your word about... whatever it was he was trying to get out of you. You understood why he intervened - this did actually mean everything to Jayce. 

“9.” 

But he was so keen on helping you, as if he didn’t have a million other better uses of his time. Another thing that you would never have done. Were you in his place, you would’ve sent yourself straight to Piltover Medical Center, because you knew exactly how fucked in the head you were, and it was going to kill you.

“8.”

This didn’t have to be his problem, despite what he said. He was determined to make it his problem. Maybe he was the insane one. It all just added to your confusion and it made you want to slam your head into a door.

“7.” 

He didn’t do things without a reason, though. Did he just not want to escalate it? Did he want something to use against you? He already had something to use against you, though; you’d spilled your admiration of his work last night. 

“6.” 

And, if he wanted to get you in trouble, literally everyone would take his word over yours. Because your life didn’t matter here. But he wouldn’t do that, because his life didn’t matter here either. He’d even kept your illiteracy a secret, only using it against you in a private moment, away from everyone else. 

“5.” 

He was a very private person, just like you, but he still had his people. Jayce and Heimerdinger and Caitlyn and probably others that you didn’t know about. He was private because he had to be, in a way - disabled, from Zaun, yet in Piltover. Being a social butterfly was not an option.

“4.” 

You were private because you wanted to be. You weren’t afraid of being alone. It was one of the things that you liked most about yourself. 

“3.” 

But, despite all of that, he’d reached out last night and asked you to put some faith in him.

“2.” 

That was worth something, you supposed. 

“1.” 

All your thoughts dissolved into a flash of blue. It was breathtaking every time. 

*****

Viktor felt another headache coming on. The telegram's short, succinct report thrummed against his skull. 

1 dead mouse received.

It was no big deal. His gut hypothesis had lied to him before. But it still sucked. 

A bottle of painkillers appeared nex to him. 

“You look like you need these,” you said, crossing your arms. 

Viktor lifted his head up. You two were in the lab by yourself. Jayce had gone out, once again assuming lunch duty. 

“I have my own.” 

“I know. These are your own. Jayce told me where you keep them,” you sighed, collapsing into the chair across from him, “not the result you wanted?” 

“No, it’s not, but I’m not discouraged,” Viktor popped off the cap and dispensed two chalky white pills into his palm. 

Your words from last night, while harsh, kept his confidence on its legs. It was a comfort to know that, regardless of what happened going forward, this line of inquiry still had some unique worth; that he still had some unique worth. 

He swallowed the pills while you plucked the telegram away from him and studied it. 

“How much does it cost to send these?” 

“That one was about 50 credits.” 

“50?!” you dropped the cardstock. 

“It is a crime,” Viktor tutted, “but, unfortunately, it is also the fastest way to communicate with somewhere as far as Noxus.” 

“Damn.” 

You shoved it back towards him, the sound of paper against the counter cutting through the uncomfortable silence. He should probably say something. 

“How about you? Any successes this morning?” 

“No,” you folded your hands, “in fact, I think things might’ve gotten worse.” 

“Wonderful,” Viktor said dryly. 

“Remember how, like, the whole problem was that it was hard to get the right amount of magic to go specific distances?” you waited for Viktor to nod, “Well, as it happens, that’s not actually the problem.” 

“What?” 

“Second time around, my prototype worked the way that I wanted it to and the same thing happened. I tried it a few more times, and sure enough, any organic matter is still subject to these random energy changes. But I know for a fact that it was the right amount of magic because I measured it each time to make sure that it was exact,” you bonked your forehead against the table, “and it was! But the plants are still fucked.” 

Viktor frowned. This was the one thing that he disliked learning from your monologue - you were stuck in the stupid belief that you were someone who “fixes” things instead of “making” them, as if it were that simple. Now that the problem wasn’t in front of you, you were out of your comfort zone. 

“You should go to the library. They have good engineering texts there, and some old blueprints. Very visual.” 

“Maybe I will,” you raised your head, “but that’s not why I’m here.” 

You inhaled, closing your eyes like it was the last moment of peace you’d ever have. Viktor felt his shoulders tense up. 

“I guess I wanted to say...” you started, “thank you. For not, uh, telling anyone, and dealing with me after I had a... really bad day.” 

Viktor blinked. It was all too easy for him to forget that he was technically the one who was doing you a favor. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t even sure why he insisted on trying to work things out between you two before falling back on Piltover Medical Center. 

Perhaps it was because, had you gone to PMC, you would be alone again.

“Really bad days happen to everyone,” he said, “but, eh, thank you as well... for boosting my ego.” 

You snorted. 

“No problem. But, uh, anyway, if you still wanna continue our conversation from last night, I can, uh... do that now.”

You were so... shy? He was more used to the curt reluctance that crawled out when your bravado caved in. But now, you hadn’t even bothered with pretense, diving head first into what you came here to say. That’s what he heard in the softness of your voice and saw in the roundness of your cheeks, no longer stretched by slanted eyes or a pointed scowl. 

Shit. Your knife. 

He thought about not telling you, getting through this first, and then revealing that he lost it. It might be better for both of you in the long run. But he couldn’t, in good faith, do that now. There was something very delicate in this relationship you’d struck up - something foreign to you, that he was afraid to disrupt with any foul play.

So, convenience be damned, he shook his head. 

“I’ve lost your knife, actually, so you are not obligated to keep your end of the bargain right now.” 

And, just like that, all the sharp edges of irritation returned to your expression. 

“You lost it? In one night?” 

“It was with my ID and keys,” Viktor shrugged, “and I am certain that it is somewhere in my apartment. I’m just... not sure where.” 

“Ugh,” you banged your forehead back down.

“It was not on purpose.” 

“I know,” you groaned, turning to the side so you could lay on one cheek, “I’m sure you want to get this over with as badly as I do. Guess we just can’t catch a break, huh?”

“This is true,” Viktor’s eyes were blank, still reeling from how well that interaction had gone over, “but I don’t think we need breaks.” 

“Incorrect!” Jayce pushed the doorway open with his back, holding the usual brown paper bag with something that smelled amazing, “Though we might have to make this lunch a short one.” 

*****

Mel’s office looked like a museum. A museum about Mel. A Melseum. 

An ancient ochre desk, stacked high with papers and maps that were uncharacteristically disordered, with a quilted black chair hiding behind them. The sun flooded through the parted bronze curtains from the massive window in the back, illuminating the gold-trimmed walls that were home to more maps, the odd drawing or diagram, and vibrant paintings of Noxian ships going out to sea. 

In the middle of it all, reflecting light everywhere, was a stoic Mel. 

Viktor and Jayce skittishly swayed back and forth on their feet. Jayce was toying with his bracelet, sliding it up and down his wrist, while Viktor was meticulously repositioning his hands on the handle of his cane every millisecond. 

Time for you to break the silence. 

“Are you Noxian?” you asked bluntly, shoving both of your hands in your pockets. 

Jayce nudged you in the ribs with his elbow. 

“What? I mean, the paintings,” you gestured round the room, “they’re all of Noxian ships. I was just wondering.” 

Mel raised her eyebrows. 

“I am,” she came around to the front of her desk, “the paintings are my own.” 

“Wow. You, uh, you nailed it,” you gave her a thumbs up, not really sure what the decorum was for complimenting paintings. 

“You’re familiar with Noxian ships?” 

“Hard to miss,” you took a step closer to the nearest painting, “they’re the only ones with red sails.” 

It was small, only a square foot, with a single ship out on the open sea. Instead of the rich, blood red color that you were accustomed to, Mel had painted them with sunlight caught in their berth, sucking out the fervor and giving them a bright, almost coral-colored, translucency. 

“Not all of them,” Mel said, “only the vanguard.” 

“So they’re easier to follow?” 

“No. It’s because red is expensive,” she drummed her fingers on the desk, internally deliberating something that you couldn’t pick up on. 

“Councilor, with all due respect,” Jayce stepped forward, “why are we here?” 

Mel folded her hands impassively, turning to Jayce.  

“You’re aware of my informants in Bilgewater?” 

“Yes. Why? Did they find something?” 

“No. Something found them,” she gestured to a glass bottle on her desk. 

Jayce’s face contorted in disgust, while Viktor’s brows knitted together with the most pained confusion you’d ever seen. 

A finger. There was a finger inside, submerged in what looked like embalming fluid. Long, tanned, with a square tip and the nail cut too short. And there was... writing? You’d have to get closer. 

“May I?” 

“By all means,” Mel beckoned you forward, stepping slightly to the side so you could take it from her desk.

You held the bottle by its neck, swirling around the finger to see every part of it. Yup, that was definitely writing - tattooed, loopy script on the inside of the finger, worn away by years of friction but still readable. If you could read.

“It says ‘Cassandra,’” Mel looked over your shoulder, “that was the name of his lover.” 

Apparently everyone in Piltover knew you were illiterate now. Whatever. 

“He got her name tattooed on his finger?” you squinted, “Well, it makes for an easy identifier, I guess. That’s probably why they sent it to you.” 

“Wait, wait,” Jayce waved his hands, breaking through the stilted calm of you and Mel’s conversation, “can we back up a bit? They sent you a finger?” 

“How are we, in any way, qualified to address this?” Viktor rode off of Jayce’s interruption, exasperated, “And why do you still have it?” 

“We know that at least one Enforcer is working for the people who did this,” Mel said, “the people using your Hextech. It would be wise to limit contact with them until this issue is resolved. The next people to call would be you.” 

“I...” Viktor sighed, looking at his shoes, “I suppose that makes sense. And they are not any closer to finding the conspirator?” 

“No, they’re not,” you were facing away from them, holding the bottle up to the sun. 

You were well-versed in the topic due to your frequent meetings with your probation officer - who, as fate would have it, was Officer Brent. It was nice to see a familiar face, even if, despite all her protests, this basically confirmed that she was your designated handler. 

Viktor clicked his tongue. 

“If the Enforcers cannot find the ones on the chem baron’s payroll, then they are unlikely to find these.” 

“What about his family?” Jayce gestured vaguely towards the finger, “Do they know?” 

“They will be notified once this whole ordeal is over,” Mel looked down at the bottle, held by both of your hands, “but for now, we’re not even sure if he’s dead.” 

“Oh, he’s definitely dead,” you determined, “If he was alive, then they would have a list of demands of something. Pirates don’t keep hostages unless it’s for ransom.” 

“You’re certain?” 

“Yes. This was meant to be a warning,” you turned towards her, “Did it come like this?” 

“Not in the bottle, no. It came wrapped in paper. Charlotte found it by the front door.” 

“Awfully polite for pirates,” you muttered, “it’s traditional to throw them through the window while it’s still bloody. Usually a head, too. And this is a very clean break.” 

You held the bottle close to your eyes, seeing the warped faces of Jayce, Viktor, and Mel through the fluid, waiting expectantly. 

“Oh, I don’t have a point, I was just saying.” 

“Okay, well, we know that he’s dead, so we should tell his family, at least,” Jayce pressed. 

“Mr. Talis-” 

“I have to agree with Jayce here, Councilor,” Viktor cut Mel off, “the situation is unfortunate, but telling the family now is clearly the lesser of two evils.” 

“We can’t trust the family with confidential information,” Mel said firmly, “Mycah knew that this was a risk when he took the job.” 

“But that’s...” 

They bickered overhead, while your vision just tunneled into the writing on the finger. Who was ‘Cassandra?’ Were they married? What was their first date like? What was their last date like? How did she get so close to this guy, Mycah, that he thought he should tattoo her name on the inside of his finger? Was ‘Mycah’ tattooed on the inside of her finger? 

You liked tattoos, but you could never see yourself getting someone’s name for this very reason. What happens when they leave? Then, all you have is a permanent reminder of what you lost etched into your skin. 

Poor Cassandra. She’s going to be in for a rough day, sooner or later. You’d never even met her, yet you couldn’t think to keep something like this - not when you looked at the lovingly rendered letters of her name. 

“Penny!” Mel snapped her fingers in front of your face. 

You flinched, and the room blinked back into existence. 

“We lost you for a second,” she said, “Did you have any thoughts on how we should proceed?” 

“Uh... do whatever his contract says?” you offered, “‘Cause if he signed it, then that’s the closest you can get to letting him decide it for himself.” 

Even though you were pretty sure everyone hated that suggestion, no one dared to disagree. 

*****

Viktor squinted in the sunlight as the massive shadow of Jayce dropped to the stoop of Mel’s house. He joined him without a second thought, silently cursing at the disconnect between the bright afternoon and the cold marble that he shakily sat down on. 

He had to stifle a laugh as you kept walking down the pathway, unaware that no one else was with you. You’d probably missed it, but Viktor caught Jayce’s hollow eyes as soon as they left Mel’s office. 

When you finally picked up on your lonely footsteps, you turned around, a long shadow over you as your back faced the sun. You bit your lip. 

“I’ll, uh... I’ll be by the gate. You guys take your time,” you said evasively, backing off like a new student who’d entered the wrong classroom. 

You didn’t wait for an objection. Viktor and Jayce stayed silent as you continued up the path and clambered on top of one of the pillars, hugging your knees to your chest and watching the street. It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome in the conversation - in fact, Jayce probably would’ve preferred that you stay - but you were clearly uncomfortable and Viktor wasn’t going to intervene. 

He didn’t mind the silence. 

“Gods, why did it have to be us?” Jayce said quietly, head in his hands, “Couldn’t they have come after anyone else’s research?” 

Viktor gave Jayce a hesitant, but reassuring, pat on the shoulder. He was not great at comfort through physical touch, but that was how Jayce did it to other people, so that was how he was going to do it now. 

“We’ll figure something out,” Viktor said, “if we created them in the first place, then surely we can destroy someone else’s.” 

“At this rate, we never will get to create them. Everything keeps getting worse. These- more people are gonna get hurt,” Jayce rubbed his temple, “Vik, I don’t want to put any of our other goals on hold for this but... maybe we should.” 

“But we can do both, Jayce,” Viktor removed his hand, “I understand the urge, but... we do not put things on hold because there are children dying in the Undercity. The amount of net lives that we could save with everything we are doing is well worth the risk.” 

“It’s different now. You know it is.” 

“Perhaps, but” Viktor scooted back so he could face him, “there will always be people who use technology for their own gain. That is why there must always be people like us, using it to help others.” 

“What about everyone who gets caught in between? They didn’t ask for any of this.” 

“No one asks. We didn’t ask to get tangled with pirates, either.” 

Jayce didn’t respond. He just stared up at the cloudless sky, enraptured by it the same way you were by the people on the street. 

Viktor leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

“It’s not as though figuring it out is going to enable them further. Look at Penny,” he waved toward you with an open hand, “we had nothing to do with her and she still raised hell.” 

“She definitely didn’t ask for any of this,” Jayce countered. 

“That’s beside the point.” 

“No, it’s not. She was probably the first person to get caught up in our bullshit. Hell, she warned us that this would happen.” 

“And you disagreed with her.” 

“I’ve changed my mind.” 

“And so has she! She chose to stay here in the end, after all,” Viktor paused, “and it was because we were able to improve her living conditions. Like we can do for everyone,” he said ‘everyone,’ but he caught himself looking at you again, “And now she is the reason that we are on the verge of something incredible. So, please,” he trapped Jayce’s green eyes with a pleading gaze, “trust in what we can do.” 

Jayce’s sigh was sad, slow, and forgiving, of both Viktor and himself. It was quiet for a minute, and Viktor felt that the entire world had stopped moving to give Jayce time to think. 

“We’ll wait until we’ve finished the circuit,” he said finally, “and then we’ll reconsider.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Viktor smiled softly.

It was times like these when he felt pride swelling in his chest at the kind of people he got to call “friends.” 

“So,” Jayce’s cadence slipped back into his normal, cocky self as he started to stand, “when did you get so fond of Pen?” 

“Eh... fond?” Viktor accepted Jayce’s hand, pulling him up with one strong yank. 

“Yeah, y’know, ‘verge of something incredible’ and all that,” Jayce shoved his hands in his pockets, strolling down the path. 

“She is good at what she does. I can respect that,” Viktor said sternly, his cane drilling into the gravel as he walked at Jayce’s side, “that does not mean I am ‘fond’ of her. And you are the one giving her nicknames.” 

“I give everyone nicknames, Vik.” 

Your head spun around as you heard them coming. That was your cue to hop to the shorter pillar, slide down the edge of the wall, and then jump to the ground, all as slick as oil. You were quite good at that, Viktor thought, as though he’d never seen you climb before. 

Once the three of you were back to trotting through the street, Jayce took it upon himself to make conversation for the return journey.

“Hey Pen, you never got to finish that thing you were telling me about earlier,” he prodded. 

“What thing?” 

“Y’know, the one about those two outlaws. You were saying that we were better than them or something.” 

“Oh!” you shot a glance at Viktor, which was all he needed to figure out that this was not something you wanted to say with him around, “Well, I guess not better but...” 

You were playing with your fingers. 

“No one knows exactly how Felix and Graves split. They were doing this heist, something went wrong, and most of their crew died. But we do know that, at some point, Felix left Graves in the dust, and that ended with Graves being taken alive and thrown in jail,” you settled your hands, silently clapping them together and holding them in place, “Which is interesting when compared to you guys, because, like, in this high stakes moment after they’d been doing this stuff for years, Felix betrays him, but you two... well, you were friends for less than a day and you didn’t even think to turn on each other. That’s...” you swallowed, “let’s just say that doesn’t happen too often.” 

Viktor agreed with you, for once, but everything that he wanted to say was offset by some destitute note in your last sentence. You were friendly, almost bittersweetly so, in the over-casual way that people act when they’re saying goodbye to someone and don’t want to upset them further. 

“So,” you turned to Jayce, “do you still wanna hear about the jobs I pulled with ‘em?” 

You recovered quickly, launching into another conversation with Jayce, but instead of the words you were speaking, Viktor just heard the sound of melancholy rattling your soul. 

*****

Viktor slammed his door open. Right there, in the middle of his cluttered room, were his pants.

“Ah, Vik-” 

“I see them, Jayce.” 

Jayce offered to help look for them after they’d closed the lab for the night. Viktor decided that coming up with some excuse as to why he had your knife was better than not getting it back to you at all, so he accepted the help graciously, only to find out that, apparently, he didn’t need it. 

“Well, you didn’t see them this morning,” Jayce chided. 

Viktor ignored him, approaching his pants as a mouse would cheese in a trap. The hairs on the back of his neck were at attention and his hands were shaking, though neither knew why - every single inch of his body was just certain that something was very wrong here.

He crouched down, ignoring the heartbeat in his leg as his blood pressure soared and his cramps acted up, extending his fingers towards one of the belt loops. The sweetmilk stain was on it - a dry, dark cloud that still smelled faintly of anise. 

His fingers curled through the ring of fabric, and he lifted it in the air. The weight inside shook, and he held his breath. 

Smack. Your knife, still broken, crackled on the floor and became even more broken. A loose, bent screw rolled into Viktor’s shoe. Damnit, he’d have to fix that, he thought as he exhaled. 

A spectral jingle, muffled by the fabric, crescendoed. And then it dropped. 

All Viktor and Jayce saw was a small, blue crystal whirling towards the ground, before it made impact and they were swallowed in the explosion. 

*****

Mycah cracked his knuckles, appraising the shot of rum before him. It had the fruity, acrid odor that was typical of well-made alcohol, with a hint of almonds wafting from the edges. 

He threw the shot back, noticing the glances from the other pirates in his periphery. All the more encouraging to force it down in a single gulp, pretending that he didn’t feel the sour burn creeping up the back of his throat. It’s not that it hurt - he could deal with that - it was simply disgusting. The worst drink he’d ever had. But he kept it to himself, smacking his lips and slamming the glass back down on the table. 

None of the other pirates drank the rum. Perhaps it was some initiation ritual.

“Alright lads, this has gone on long enough,” the captain slammed his fists on the table. 

Every time Mycah saw that man, his skin crawled. Thankfully, a scowl was the norm here, so it went under the radar. 

“Fields, this’ll decide whether we want ye aboard or not, so pay close attention,” the captain nodded at Mycah, who made his best effort to look unfazed at his cover name. He was normally quite good at it, but suddenly, it became very taxing to keep a straight face. 

In fact, all his normal bodily functions became taxing, and Mycah felt himself getting rather sleepy. 

“Cap’n, if I may?” the second mate, who Mycah had yet to learn the name of, spoke up. 

“Speak freely,” the captain granted. He was genial like that. Mycah couldn’t fight off a dangerously languid smile. 

“Do you think it wise to go after both of them? It would send Piltover on our asses, and, well, given what happened to the last fleet- I still think we could win, but it would cost a heap.” 

“Right you are,” the captain tipped the rim of his hat - a humble black model - at him, “that’s why I’m proposing that we only go after the smaller one. With the walking stick. It’s Piltover - no one’ll miss him.” 

Mycah exhaled through his nose, steeling his muscles in his gut. His stomach churned, and gravity kept trying to pull him forward.

“As for the, uh, giant,” a few laughs skittered across the table, “rustle him up a bit, but leave him. He’ll do his best work there anyways.” 

“And the girl?” 

Mycah wheezed, falling against the table, but no one seemed to care. He was dizzy, nauseous, and it felt like a cinder block was lodged in his chest. 

“Eh, she won’t be an issue,” the captain flicked his wrist, “she’ll run. If she doesn’t, pay her off. And if that doesn’t work,” the captain grinned, showing off a single, shimmering blue tooth amidst all the white ones, “kill ‘er.” 

Mycah’s vision funneled into nothing. He’d figured it out by then - he was dying. 

As death got its still, cold claws around him, he found himself looking at his hand splayed against the musty table. Someone was lifting up his ring finger like a trophy. In his last moments of hazy confusion, he couldn’t even remember who Cassandra was.

~ End Notes ~

End credits song: "Apple Blossom" by The White Stripes

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Stolen Stamps

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Stolen Passport Oneshot

“You took me on a trip just to break up with me so I stole your passport” - Prompt from @dailyau

I don't know where this came from, it just kinda happened, enjoy! Minor Chaolaena, Rowaelin endgame

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2494 words

*******

The faint hum of the air condition filled the meticulously organized room in the back of the post office.

“Ms. Galathynius,” A deep, accented voice addressed her.

Her gaze on the tall bookshelf in the corner jerked back to the man sitting across from her behind his desk. His hands were crossed, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing part of a tattoo that wrapped around his muscular arm. She tried not to watch as the muscles shifted as he leaned forward when he spoke to her.

“Can you please explain to me why you were trying to mail a very,” He paused, glancing at the messily-wrapped bundle on the center of his desk, “suspicious-looking package to the Adarlan embassy in Antica?”

Aelin opened her mouth to try to explain, but no words came out.

He raised a silver eyebrow and waited.

She sighed, “I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

***

The cab ride to the airport was a blur. So was the flight, and the ride to her hotel. It wasn’t until Aelin locked the door of her hotel room and set down her bags, that the events of the day finally hit her.

Whether it was adrenaline or shock or relief, she couldn’t be sure. Aelin fell back onto the bed and rubbed her face, groaning. She thought back to that morning when everything had been fine.

Fine, not great, just fine. That’s how things always felt with Chaol, just fine.

Her brain was still working through what happened when she jolted up from the bed, eyes wide.

“Shit. What did I do?”

Aelin scrambled towards her purse and rummaged through it. She couldn’t find it; maybe she didn't take it. She turned the bag upside down over the bed and watched as her things fell out. She pushed aside her little paperback mystery novel, her lipstick, her boarding pass, she moved aside a wrinkled coupon and froze.

“Fuck.”

***

After wearing a track into the carpet with her pacing, Aelin decided to call Lysandra. It was going about as well as she expected.

“Lysandra, I did a bad thing.”

Aelin chewed her fingernail between her teeth, a bad habit she couldn’t kick when she was stressed, as she tried to tell her best friend what just happened. She was standing on the small balcony of her hotel hoping the fresh air would help clear her mind. So far, it wasn't doing a great job.

“Aelin,” Lysandra’s voice sounded amused through her phone, “This is you were talking about, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin ran a hand through her hair. “I did a petty, horrible, impulsive, really bad thing.”

There was a long pause as Lysandra seemed to realize how serious Aelin sounded.

“Okay. Now I’m getting worried.” Then a sharp gasp, “Was it illegal? Have you been arrested? Are you calling me from a foreign prison?”

“Lys—” Aelin tried cutting in, she wanted to stop the hysterics before her friend’s imagination got out of hand.

“When you told me you were going on a trip with Chaol I thought you’d be spending time on the beach, not using me as your one phone call from a dirty jail cell hundreds of miles away!”

“Lysandra!”

“And where’s Chaol? Is he there with you?”

“Lysandra, stop! I haven’t been arrested, I’m not in prison, I’m fine. Actually, I’m great.” Aelin closed her eyes and sighed, trying to scrounge up some guilt but failing. “Actually, it's because I’m feeling great that makes what I did so much worse, because I don’t really feel bad about it.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” Her friend's voice echoed in her ear. “If you’re fine, then tell me what happened and tell me why you’re calling me at,” she paused and groaned, “six in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Aelin winced, “I’m still on a different time frame.”

“Still? Where are you now? Are you not in Antica anymore?”

“Slow down, Lys.” Aelin loosed a breath and ran a hand through her hair, “I’m back in Terrasen.”

“What? When did you get back?” Lysandra sounded confused, and Aelin couldn't blame her, after all, she was supposed to be in Antica for four more days.

“Today. Less than an hour ago. I’m at a hotel, I just needed to clear my head.”

After a moment of silence, Lysandra asked again, “Where’s Chaol? Have you talked to him about whatever this is? Not that he’d help much “Lysandra muttered the last part, but Aelin still heard.

Here we go, Aelin thought, “No. We broke up.”

“What?” Lysandra was definitely awake now. “Really? Oh, honey, I’m sorry if you’re hurting, but good for you, I never really liked him.”

“Yeah, I know.” Aelin barked a wry laugh, “He dumped me, actually.”

“He dumped you?”

Aelin barked another laugh, getting angry as she told Lysandra the rest, “Get this, that bastard invited me on this trip specifically to break up with me”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Yeah, and honestly?” Aelin took a deep breath, feeling a mess of emotions as she explained. “I can’t blame him.” She amended herself quickly at Lysandra's sound of protest, “I don’t mean about taking me on a trip to do it, because that’s fucked up, but I mean the actual breaking up part. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, it was more about who would pull the trigger first. Come on, Lys, you knew I was more excited to spend a week on the beach than to spend a week with him.”

Lysandra snorted, “Yeah, Ace, I knew that. I was hoping you realized that, too.”

“Well, I did. So, I left. I’m back in Terrasen, there was no way I was staying there with him any longer, that would’ve been too weird.”

Aelin could hear Lysandra’s coffee machine buzz to life through the phone and suddenly wished she had a cup of coffee. Once she figured this mess out, she’d go find a cafe.

“Right. Okay,” The brunette’s voice rang out, “let me get this straight, Chaol took you on a trip solely to break up with you, and now you’re back in Terrasen while he’s still on the Southern Continent. I’m still not seeing what exactly you did that’s making you freak out.”

At that, Aelin flopped back onto the bed and flung an arm over her face, groaning.

“I know breaking up with Chaol is for the best, Hellas, I feel relieved. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was furious that he’d take me on this trip instead of just doing it at home like a normal-fucking-person—I mean, who takes a break-up vacation? Anyways, when I was packing my things to leave, I, kinda, sorta, took something of his.”

“Aelin…what did you do?”

Aelin looked at the foot of the bed where the remains of her purse were strewn over the blanket. Her eyes caught on two matching little booklets with gold seals on them.

“I stole his passport.”

***

“Ms. Galathynius—”

“Aelin, please.” She cut off the silver-haired man behind the desk.

The only change in his stoic demeanor was a small twitch of his lips. “Aelin. Can you explain what exactly you’re trying to mail, that looks like that—”

‘That’ being the layers of spare newspaper she found tucked away in her hotel room haphazardly wrapped and tied with the thread from the complimentary sewing kit, also from her hotel room. She hadn’t been able to find any tape. Aelin thought if she brought it to the post office then she could re-package it with actual materials, but she’d chosen not to unwrap it before getting there. An obvious mistake.

“—to an official, protected, government Embassy?” His voice was stern and his green eyes steady.

This looked bad. Aelin could easily admit that this looked really bad.

She placed her hands on his desk and watched as his eyes tracked the movement. “I can explain. It's definitely not as bad as I’m sure you think it is.”

He remained silent, watching her expectantly.

She caught sight of the nameplate on the side of his desk. “Mr. Whitethorn—”

“Rowan, please.”

Did he sound amused?

Taking confidence from that, she sat up a little straighter and said, “Rowan,”

His mouth quirked a little higher as she said his name.

Clearing her throat, she started again, “Rowan, you can open the package, I assure you it's nothing bad. It’s just a passport.”

One of his eyebrows rose skeptically, “A passport?” He asked doubtfully.

“Yes, a passport. That’s why I was trying to send it to the embassy. It belongs to my b—ex.” She stumbled over the last word, still unused to Chaol’s new title.

He—Rowan—looked even more intrigued.

“You’re mailing your ex their passport, but decided to wrap it in the most suspicious, threatening way possible?”

Aelin winced. “I didn’t have many options.” She chuckled, remembering trying to tie the string together in the hotel bathroom’s fluorescent lights. “I thought I could fix it once I got here, but I didn’t even have a chance to ask for materials before being escorted in here.” She waved a hand vaguely and looked around his office.

Rowan was fully smirking now. He leaned back in his chair and watched her for a long moment. “It is my job to confiscate suspect packages. Especially when those packages are being sent to, say, a government building.”

Leaning forward slightly she smiled and told him, “Well, you seem to be very good at your job.”

Gods, was she flirting? She and Chaol literally just broke up. But she couldn’t deny she was attracted to Rowan. Not with the way his pine-green eyes lit up with amusement or the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he shifted in his chair. Not to mention that tattoo; she was a sucker for tattoos—and she’d never told him this, but it always disappointed Aelin that Chaol never even considered getting any ink.

Good gods, she was flirting. And not very well.

Still smirking, Rowan leaned forward and asked, “Care to tell me why you’re sending your ex their passport?”

Was it her imagination or did he say ‘ex’ like it was the most interesting word in his question.

She couldn't stop the small smile twisting her lips. “I don't see how the ‘why’ of it is any of your business.”

Rowan surveyed her and Aelin tried not to blush under his gaze. She couldn't stop herself from comparing him to Chaol, he never made her feel this flustered with just a stare. Rowan's eyes tracked her face, tracked the way her cheeks heated, and she tried with all her might to fight the blush.

She wasn’t a teenager with a crush, she was a woman who knew how good she looked and was very attracted to the man whose eyes had not stopped roaming over her. She fought down the blush and flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling charmingly at him.

He seemed to like it and his grin widened before putting on a faux stern face.

“I try to be as thorough as possible, Aelin,” Gods, the way he said her name made her toes curl. “It would make things easier if you explained why. I could finish my paperwork quicker, get this thing sent off, and we’d both be free of this passport and your ex.”

Wow, he wasn't beating around the bush. She liked it.

He sent her a slow grin, “I’d be able to take my break at nine, and go for a cup of coffee.”

The way he said the last part left no room for guessing what he meant. He wanted to take her out for coffee.

A small part of her hesitated, she had just broken up with Chaol. But on the other hand, he took her on a fucking breakup vacation, so screw him and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. And she wanted Rowan. She wanted to go get coffee with Rowan.

So she smiled, winked at him, and said, “I’m mailing it back to him because I stole it from him.”

Rowan’s smile faltered and he blinked.

“You what?”

“I stole it from him.”

He stared at her another moment before a chuckle escaped his lips and he was shaking his head but smirking.

“You stole his passport.” He sounded very amused as he wrote a note down, most likely for the report he’d have to file.

“Yup,” Aelin’s grin turned feline, “He took me on vacation to break up with me, so I stole his passport and left him there.”

Rowan stopped writing and looked at her with raised eyebrows, “He’s still there? You have his passport, and now he’s stuck,” Rowan glanced at his notes, “in Antica?”

Aelin laughed; a loud, cheerful, sound that filled the office and pulled a small grin onto Rowan’s lips.

“Okay, I’m sure you think I’m a bit crazy,” Her grin didn't falter, “but it was impulsive and as soon as I realized what I actually did, you know, kinda leaving him stranded there, I tried to send it back to him. I couldn't remember what the hotel was, so I figured the embassy would be a good choice given it's a passport, and he is from Adarlan.”

“He’s from Adarlan, you’re not?” Rowan asked.

Aelin smirked, “That’s what you got from what I said?”

He matched her smirk, “That's what I want to know.”

“No,” Aelin shook her head and glanced out the window in his office, “I’m from here, Terrasen is in my blood.”

It seemed like that was the answer Rowan was looking for. He smiled, wrote down a final note, and looked back at her.

“I think that’s all I need right now, Aelin,” Again, the way he said her name sent butterflies flitting around her stomach.

He stood up and she did the same, pulling her purse back over her shoulder. He walked around his desk and opened the door for her.

“Aelin,” Rowan’s voice made her pause as she stood in the open doorway.

“Yes, Rowan?” she looked up at him expectantly with a small smile.

“I take my break in half an hour, there's a coffee shop just down the block, if you want to hang around or come back then, I'd like to take you out for coffee.”

Aelin smiled brightly at him and nodded, “I’d like that. I’ll come back in half an hour.”

He grinned and held her gaze another moment before she turned to leave.

“Oh, and Rowan?” She turned back to look at him but saw he already—or still—had his eyes on her.

“Yeah?”

“You don't have to use express shipping on that, it's fine if it takes a couple days.”

The sound of Rowan’s deep laughter followed her through the doors.

*****

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[borathae]

"Seokjin is the college fuckboy. You are angry and annoyed at your ex. When you stumble into a supposed empty bedroom at your friends houseparty and meet Seokjin there, things take their natural path... Alternatively: The college fuckboy offers you TLC to cure your frustration, whatever that may be (spoiler alert some good ol' fuck)"

Pairing: fuckboy!Seokjin x f.Reader

Genre: Smut, college!AU

Warnings: switch!Seokjin who turns Dom, switch!Reader who turns subby, oral sex (f. & m. recieving), discussion of safeword, protected sex, public sex?, it’s basically sex in a stranger’s (Jimin’s) bedroom, dirty talk, rough sex, belly bulging, a quick handjob, Seokjin has a massive dick, also he is so cocky

Wordcount: 5.2k

a/n: sometimes we just need a lil bit of fuckboy!Seokjin in our life and that is okay 😩 enjoy besties hehe 😏💗

You slam the door shut, leaning against it whilst letting out an annoyed groan. Coming here was a mistake. You should have just stayed at home and watched a movie, instead of forcing yourself into this far too tight dress and those uncomfortable heels and go to Jimin’s stupid house party. The party itself wasn't bad, it was actually pretty fun until your ex with his new girl showed up. Stupid Jimin, why did he even invite him in the first place. He knows how much you two despise each other. 

You groan again, turning around only to freeze on the spot when your eyes fall on someone sitting on the bed. Kim Seokjin, the college fuckboy and your lecture buddy on Wednesday. He is tall, dark and handsome and so in-love with himself that there is no space in his heart for anyone else than himself. He is also terribly funny, which infuriates you on more occasions than one. It is not in your principles to laugh at jokes of total douchebags but man, Kim Seokjin may have the funniest laugh you have ever heard. You can't not laugh at his jokes, even if it's just because you think his laughter is hilarious. 

"Excuse me? I called dibs on this room first", he says, letting his eyes travel up and down your body shamelessly. 

"You called dips on a room that isn't even yours?" you snort, "I didn't see any signs outside telling me it's yours soooo", you shrug your shoulders, inspecting imaginary dirty under your fingernails. 

"Well I'm sitting on the bed and you aren't, sooo I call dibs", Seokjin retorts calmly, kicking his shoes off for emphasis. 

You watch him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. If people hadn't figured it out yet, you didn't really particularly like him as a person. His jokes were acceptable, yes of course and he was utterly handsome sure, but he was so full of himself that it infuriated you. And you are pretty sure Seokjin doesn't like you that much either, given how you are the only girl on campus refusing to sleep with him. He sees it as a personal offence that someone could possibly not want his dick.

"What are you doing here anyways? The party's downstairs isn't it?" he asks, nodding his head into the direction of the door. 

You shrug your shoulders, breaking the distance between you and him to sit down on the bed next to him. You let out a loud sigh whilst doing so, kicking off your heels. 

"My ex just arrived with his new girl and I'm not one for watching them make out five feet away from me", you explain, sighing loudly afterwards. 

"Geez that sucks", Seokjin says. 

"Yeah a little. I mean not that I want this douchebag back, but I still don't want to see that. You know? It's about the principles."

You look at Seokjin, who to your surprise watches you with honest interest in his eyes.

"Totally, I get what you mean. I wouldn't wanna see one of my one night stands suddenly get it on with another dude. That would be weird."

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. 

"That is so not at all the same thing, but yeah totally."

For a moment you both stay silent, listening to the muffled music of downstairs. Some house music, perfect to get wasted to. It's not really your taste, you're more of a hip-hop girl yourself, but it suits Jimin. You sneak a glance Seokjin’s way, who is too busy with staring at the closed bedroom door to notice. You could - no you should - get up and leave, but do you really want to? Of course Seokjin isn't the company you had wished for, but it is still nice to not be completely alone with your thoughts. Even if it's just Seokjin being his usual annoying self. Besides he is so much better to look at than your ex and his new girl. 

You look back at the door, letting your feet tangle back and forth whilst leaning back on the bed. This must either be Jimin’s room or his guestroom. You wouldn't know, given how this is your first time at Jimin’s frat house. Judging by the modern interior and overuse of the colour grey however it is pretty obvious that it must be Jimin’s room. That dude has an unhealthy obsession with grey. 

"You know", Seokjin suddenly says, "I've heard of a great remedy that can help with forgetting your ex."

"Oh no, what's that marvelous remedy you are talking about?" you ask looking at him.

"TLC", Seokjin states nonchalantly as if you knew what he meant by that. 

"I'll regret asking but TLC?" you cock an eyebrow at him. 

Seokjin scoots closer to you, legs almost touching. You can smell his cologne at that distance, woody with a hint of orange blossoms. It suits him. 

"Thick Long Cock", he says nonchalantly. 

"I-", you can't help but snort, not knowing if you should find it amusing or hot. Of course, why did you even expect another answer from him.

"Now, now don't laugh at me baby, I'm only trying to help here. You know", he sends you a cheeky smirk, "I'm a five star rated provider of TLC, I'll cure you in no time." 

"Are you now?" you chuckle in amusement.

"Yes, side effects may vary from uncontrollable shaking to mindblowing orgasms, some even reported to feel like blacking out. So I heard." 

"Sounds dangerous." 

"Only if you don't know how to handle it. But I'm pretty sure someone as feisty as you can handle it just fine." 

You click your tongue at him, sighing dramatically as you get to your feet. You whip around, looking down at him with dark eyes.

"Oh Kim Seokjin, you're such a sweet talker", you coo, putting your hands on his shoulders, "I bet all the other girls are swooning when you talk to them like that", you say before touching his nose with the tip of your finger. 

"What other girls?" Seokjin tilts his head to the side in question. His hands land on your hips, massaging them slowly. 

"Oh come on, you don't need to play dumb with me. I know how you think, no need to put on the act of the cute, committed boy with me."

Seokjin grins devilishly, eyes flashing up in desire. He pulls you onto his lap, making you gasp in surprise. One of his hands supports your lower back while the other is on the back of your neck, playing with your hair. 

"Well, tonight I only care about you baby. I'll even stay for some cuddles if you want. I have time", he rasps.

"Oh really?", you scoff.

"Yes I really do, you're the only pussy I wanna cure with my TLC", he rasps, fingers travelling up and down your back  His touch makes you shiver. You scoot up on his lap, closer to where he wants you most. He isn't hard yet, but you are sure this will change very soon.

"What makes you think I even want some TLC or better speaking you to give it to me?" you ask, poking your finger into his chest. 

"Well-" Seokjin licks his lips, "-first of all you're already on my lap so why stop now? And second of all what better way to show your ex how little you care about him than sleeping with someone as handsome as me?"

"Aah I see", you say, almost laughing out loud in amusement. He is so full of himself, which for some reason tonight you find terribly attractive.

Your hands feel up and down the defined muscles of his shoulders and chest, soaking in every ridge. Exactly how you imagined Kim Seokjin’s body to feel like. Oh what a gorgeous man he is. A sudden thought rushes through you, one that makes your stomach clench in desire. What bad could sleeping with him do? He had wanted to bang you for months now and from what you had heard of people he is pretty amazing in it. So why not take your mind off of things and actually accept his offer. It's just sex after all, no feelings whatsoever, just good old sex. 

"Fine. If that's so, then go on, start your world renowned procedure. Show me what that TLC can do", you rasp.

Seokjin grins in victory, twisting your hair in his fingers. 

"I'm at your service kitten. Come on don't be shy now and kiss your doctor", he says, leaning closer. 

"Uh-nuh", you stop him with a finger on his plumb lips. 

Seokjin blinks at you, lips parting and pupils dilating. 

"What we are not going to do here is call you my doctor", you say to which Seokjin scoffs. 

"Fine, but I can still call you kitten though?" 

You act as if you are thinking, humming. 

"Yeah okay, that's acceptable", you finally say, dragging your thumb down his lower lip until it bounces back into place again. 

His lips are so pink, fuck that's so hot. You scoot up his lap, tilting his head up to finally kiss him. 

Seokjin instantly groans into the kiss, fingers on your hips tightening and lips parting. Kissing him feels like kissing two soft, warm pillows, which also happen to taste of mint. It is an experience, one you wished you would have done sooner. 

Seokjin is quick to take over the control. Not that you mind, you are happy to let his tongue explore your mouth eagerly. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair, moaning at how soft it feels. You pull at it. The kiss breaks as Seokjin lets you tilt his head back, hooded eyes watching you hungrily. 

"Your lips feel amazing", he rasps, "I bet they'd feel even better wrapped around my cock."

"Wouldn't you like to know? First heal my pussy like you promised to and maybe then I'll consider sucking your dick."

"Oh? A woman, who knows what she wants? That's sexy."

"I know", you smirk, kissing him again afterwards. 

Seokjin groans, pulling you closer until your core is rubbing against his growing length. Thanks past you for not putting on panties, you can feel everything. Every rough scratch of his jeans against your soaked pussy and the hotness of his cock feels amazing. 

You push at his shoulders until his back hits the mattress. Your kiss breaks in the process. Seokjin chuckles, gazing up at you with darkened eyes. 

"So rough", he coos, massaging your thighs. 

"You promised me quick relief. Don't make me wait Kim Seokjin, I don't have all night", you state calmly, raking your fingers down his chest. 

"Take my pants off then, be quick about it", he says, smirking. 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

With quick fingers you unfasten his belt, the metal clap clicking loudly. His pants follow soon after, getting pulled down until they lay on the floor in a puddle. Now only his black briefs keep him modest, the fabric straining against his semi-hard. 

"Can I take those off too?" you ask for permission. 

"You first", he says to which you grin knowingly. 

"Honey I'm not wearing any panties anyway." 

His eyes grow big, a hungry fire flashing up in them as he stares at your middle. 

"Damn girl you're hot", he says, dick growing harder in his briefs. 

"Thanks boo. Now can I undress you?" 

"Yeah sure go ahead kitten", he says.

One quick tuck and his length springs free, making you stop in his act of undressing him just to stare at him. 

Your eyes are big in shock, your mouth salivating. 

"Damn boy you weren't lying, that is long", you say with genuine surprise in your voice. 

"And it's thick too", Seokjin adds, proud grin on his devilishly handsome face, "touch it."

You do so instantly, gasping when your fingers barely close around his length. 

"Dude it's massive, I don't know if my vagina is built for this", you say as you jerk him off slowly. Although it is more fondling than anything else. You just can't believe a dick like this actually exists, you just have to touch it to make sure it's real. 

Seokjin rolls his head back, propping himself up on his elbows. He obviously enjoys the lazy handjob you grant him. His chest heaves up and down in quick breaths, his ears turning red. 

"Oh kitten, of course she is with s-such a gorgeous owner."

"Gross", you pull a face of disgust at his compliment.

"There's always lube", Seokjin states nonchalantly and shrugs his shoulders. 

"Where on earth are we supposed to get lube?" 

"This is a frathouse love, it's bubbling in testosterone. I bet if I open this bedside table drawer-", he opens it and pulls out a red bottle of lube, "-I'll find some lube. Bingo."

"This is gross. I don't wanna use strangers lube."

"Well then we have to think of another way of getting you wet", Seokjin starts to smirk, "ride my face."

Your pussy clenches in need at his words. 

“You want me to ride your face?” 

“Yes, go on. We both know you want to sit on that handsome piece of art”, he says pointing at his own face. 

You scoff and roll your eyes. He wasn’t lying. You really did want to sit on that handsome face. Even if it was just to shut him up for a few minutes. 

“Fine”, you say and pull your dress up. 

Seokjin’s eyes instantly land on your exposed core. He swallows and licks over his lips, chest visibly heaving up and down. 

“Damn okay, this isn’t even a joke, you have a really sexy pussy”, he says, well croaks would be a better way to describe it. 

“Thank you”, you say as you make your way up his body, making sure to grind it over his torso as you do. You have to give him something to remember you by, even if it is just a t-shirt, soaked in your pussy juices. 

“O-okay wow”, Seokjin groans, muscles flexing with every roll of your hips, “hot damn kitten, your pussy.” 

“Wait until you taste it”, you say confidently. 

“Then don’t keep me waiting, hot damn”, Seokjin hisses, literally salivating. 

“Didn’t plan on it. Fast relief, remember?” you say, wiggling your hips right in front of his face. 

Seokjin’s eyes are glued to your middle, pupils dilated and mouth hanging open. He nods his head, although you are pretty sure that he only did so because your voice indicated a question. 

“You ready?” you ask him, shimming closer. 

“More than ready”, he grabs your hips, “but wait first. Safeword is humus and the safety gesture is tapping the other three times.” 

“Okay”, you nod your head, “sounds doable.” 

You exchange a smile, which is thinking back, a weird thing to do in such a situation. But back then it felt right to do. Seokjin pulls at your hips. 

“Get on there now, kitten”, he rasps and so you do. 

You sink down slowly, holding onto the wall for support. Seokjin meets you halfway, connecting his lips with your core eagerly. A shiver runs through you, followed by a content groan. You sink down, Seokjin is moaning happily at it.

He starts off by kissing your pussy hungrily, sucking on it each time he pulls back. He keeps his tongue hidden for now, his plumb lips are enough stimulation anyway. Wet and so soft, it feels incredible. His big hands knead your naked ass deliciously, making sure to guide your movements ever so slowly. 

“That’s nice”, you say. You aren’t one to be sparse with compliments during sex. Even the cockiest of bastards get compliments, in the end you were the one receiving the pleasure, so why not tell them that what they were doing was enjoyable for you?

Seokjin looks up at you, eyes dark in arousal. He groans against pussy, sending shivers down to your toes. You hum in content, beginning to roll your hips on his mouth. That's when you feel it. His hot, wet tongue finally flicking up and down your folds. 

"Shit, ah, that's it", you groan, throwing your head back. 

Seokjin grabs more of your ass and presses you closer. He moans and groans, swirling his tongue over your core in lighting speed. You look down at him. Seokjin knows the exact moment your eyes locked with his, he could taste it on his tongue. 

"Keep doing that", you encourage him breathlessly, "that’s good, keep doing that." 

Seokjin buries his face deeper in your core, nose rubbing against your clit. His tongue fucks up into your hole, feasting on your juices with a content groan. 

"Oh fuck, mhhhhhm", you throw your head back, "that’s it, yes right there", you moan, rolling your hips back and forth. His hands grip your hips, helping you with your movements. He grunts, eyes closing. You can’t stop your thighs from shaking, not when he is eating you out like that. 

"I'm close", you tell him, voice raspy and eyes pressed shut. 

Seokjin encourages you to let go with a growl and an aggressive flick of his tongue. He presses you down on him and starts sucking on your clit, doing literal gymnastics with his tongue.

Your toes curl first. Then your stomach clenches.  

"Oh fuck!"

Then your thighs close on his head. Seokjin growls again, teeth crazing your clit. 

"Ah, yes, that!" 

And then your high hits you. Heat spreads from your middle down your legs. Breathing is hard for a good five seconds. The music, which was once so incredibly loud, only sounds like a whisper in your ringing ears. 

One last quake and then you raise your hips and shimmy off of him. You sit down on his stomach, hands on his chest. 

“Phew, that was something else”, you say, skin burning and cheeks heated. 

He is catching his breath, looking far too handsome with your juices all over his lower face.  

"Well, hot damn", he laughs breathlessly, "I agree."

He looks at you before he props himself up on his elbows. 

"It was fun, yeah", you agree, outlining his pecs with your fingers, "however you promised me TLC." 

Seokjin smirks and clicks his tongue. 

"I knew TLC would be a successful name", he says cockily. 

You roll your eyes. 

"I regret calling it that way." 

"No, no. Kitten", he sits up. It makes you slip down on his lap. He cups your cheek, making intense eye contact with you, "don't feel ashamed. I tell you, in a few months this word is booming in popularity."

You snort. 

"Keep dreaming", you say, pushing at his chest. 

Seokjin falls down, bouncing off the mattress once. It knocks the air out of his lungs and makes his eyes grow in size. 

"Daaamn", he says, mouth hanging open. 

You merely give him a little shrug of your shoulders and a playful grin and then you shimmy down his body to make yourself comfortable between his legs. Seokjin is properly gulping, eyes threatening to close. 

"Gotta return the favour, don’t I?" you coo, fingers closing around the base of his cock. 

"You're gonna suck my dick?" Seokjin blurts out, eyes growing even bigger. 

"Yeah, duh", you answer him, closing the distance between your mouth and his cock. 

You give his tip little kitten licks first. Seokjin inhales shakily, hand landing on your head instinctively. 

"Uh-nuh" you say, moving away. 

"Whyyyy?" Seokjin whines, hips chasing your lips. 

"No touching", you explain, pulling his hand away and placing it back on the mattress. 

"Oh", he gulps, "okay, daaamn you're hot." 

"I know", you coo and continue flicking your tongue over his tip. 

Seokjin shivers, grabbing the sheets. The desire to hold your head must be almost unbearable to control. It makes you smirk. You have the cockiest fuckboy on campus grabbing the sheets in desperation. There is nothing better than this. Well, actually there is. 

His cock.

You take him into your mouth, closing your lips eagerly around his girthy length. Seokjin moans and it is surprisingly high-pitched. Your eyes flit up to his face. Plumb lips parted, cheeks tinted pink and nose scrunched up in pleasure. Oh no, there goes your stomach actually clenching at the view. 

You sink down further, hollowing out your cheek for his cock. 

"Shit, so good", he mewls, flexing his stomach and twisting the sheets. 

You know you won’t be able to take his entire length in and you are pretty sure Seokjin knows this too. But this doesn’t stop your hand from jerking off whichever parts you can’t reach, using your spit as lube. Seokjin mewls again, gulping so hard his Adams apple bops up and down in his thick neck. 

You answer him with a moan and a harsh suck. You bop your head up and down as you suck, making sure to press the flat of your tongue against his cock. 

"Ah, ah, that's it", he moans, voice high and desperate. 

Men are all the same. They like to act all cocky and "Alpha Male" (oh how you hate this expression) but the moment their dick is down someones throat, they turn into whiny little boys. Your stupid ex was like this and now Seokjin, the cockiest fuckboy on campus. It is quite fascinating really. 

"Oh fuck!" Seokjin yelps, hips bucking up. 

Just this moment you decided to drag your teeth over his length. Precum spills on your tongue, his fingers grip more of the sheets. Your hand speeds up, other hand playing with his tight balls. Another gentle bite, then you drag them up his length. 

"Fuck, oh fuck. Kitten you're gonna make me cum", he moans, writhing on the mattress.

Down his cock you go, moaning when his tip hits your throat. Seokjin mewls and bucks his hips up. 

"So close." 

Up his cock you go, flicking your tongue over his tips quickly. Seokjin moans and flexes his neck. 

"Kitten I-" 

You release his cock with a loud bop, watching how he is left writhing and whining as his climax drifts away from him. You make sure to squeeze down on the base of his cock, basking in the way his vein pulsates in desperation. 

"Hngngng", Seokjin groans, twisting the sheets. His eyes peel open, pupils dilated. 

"Why did you do t-that?" he whines with a big pout on his lips. He props himself up on his elbows, “that’s not cool”, he mumbles, pouting even harder. 

"Because", you let go of his cock, "-you promised me a nice fuck and I won’t miss out on that." 

Seokjin chuckles breathlessly, falling back down. 

"You're gonna be the death of me", he murmurs, brushing his messy hair out of his face. 

"Well thank you", you grin and pat his thigh, "so what you say? Wanna fuck?" 

"Well, duh", Seokjin sits up, "let me just get a condom real quick." 

He takes his jeans and boxers off, discarding them on the floor. As he rolls the condom on, you make yourself comfortable on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes. 

"It's on", he says, jerking his dick off lazily, "so how'd you wanna take me?"

"You know that position where you lift my legs and fuck me like that?" 

Seokjin gulps and nods his head. 

"I want that", you say, spreading your legs to give him the perfect view of your pussy. 

"Shitting fuck. I-I mean fucking shit", he stutters, totally bewitched by the view. He gets on the bed, eyes glued to your core the entire time. 

"You like the view?" you tease, wiggling your hips. 

"Liking is an understatement", he rasps, running his palms up your inner thighs, "you're so hot." 

"Thank you", you say, voice shaking slightly as Seokjin drags his pointer finger up and down your pussy. 

"Oh you're so wet, that's hot", he murmurs, eyes meeting yours, "raise your legs for me."

You do as he says in an instance, not wanting to waste more time with unnecessary talking. Seokjin places both of your legs on his right pec, stroking his hand up and down your thigh. He wraps his fingers around the base of his dick, eyes meeting yours. 

“You’re ready to get your world blown away, kitten?” he asks cockily, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You roll your eyes, “fine, I am. Good god, you’re so full of yourself.” 

Seokjin smirks, “lucky for you, very soon and”, he says, teasing your hole with his cock, “you’ll be full of myself too”, he rasps. 

“Are you serio- oh ha! Wow…” 

Seokjin finally breaches you, stretching you out dangerously good. It burns, it really does, but man you missed that kind of burn. You grab the sheets, inhaling shakily as Seokjin pushes another inch of his length inside of you. 

“You comfortable?” he makes sure, spreading your legs to make the breach a little easier. 

“Your cock’s massive”, you gulp, nose scrunching up as another inch enters you, “it’s incredible.” 

“See? I knew your pussy was perfect for my cock”, he says, rolling his hips. Three more inches slip inside, eliciting a high-pitched gasp from you. Seokjin reaches down and begins circling your clit with his thumb. Your hips shoot up, pussy swallowing the remaining inches hungrily. 

“That’s good, take me in kitten, that’s it”, he rasps, touching your lower belly. His thumb keeps rubbing circles on your clit as his fingers feel over your stomach. He starts moving, growling deeply as he does. 

“I can feel how my cock’s bulging your perfect stomach”, he says, smirk curling at his lips, “that’s so fucking sexy.” 

Can you hear him? Yes you can. Will you answer him? No, you won’t. Reason? You have never felt so perfectly stretched out and filled up by a cock than you currently do and you are quite honestly spiraling. You hate to admit it, but fuck Seokjin’s world famous TLC actually does what it promises you. Cure you in ways nothing else could. 

Seokjin places your legs on his right pec again. The newfound tightness makes you mewl, head rolling to the side. 

“So tight”, Seokjin grunts, hot sweat dampening his chest, “you like it, kitten? You like how my TLC is filling you up?” 

“Yeah”, you moan, twisting the sheet, “yeah, yeah, yeah”, he fucks the words out of you with every thrust. 

“Yeah?” he confirms and places his thumb on your clit again, rubbing eager circles on it, “I told you that you’d be so full of myself.” 

You groan, “oh shut up”, you choke out, not really helping your fake annoyance by shaking like crazy afterwards. 

“You love it”, he challenges and slams his hips into you, “Admit. It. Kitten.” 

With every word he drills his massive cock into you without mercy, making your entire body jiggle and shake like crazy. You didn’t even know that you could squeak that high-pitched, you’ll probably lose your voice if he keeps this up. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah”, your vocabulary has been reduced to this one single word. 

“I knew it”, he smirks cockily, rewarding you by speeding up his thumb, “I knew that you’d love it”, he angles his cock differently, finally hitting that magic toe-curling spot deep inside of you. 

“Seokjin!” you yelp up, squeezing your eyes shut so tightly you can see colours, “that’s the spot!” 

Seokjin tightens his grip around your legs, stopping them from slipping down his chest. With expert accuracy he hits your g-spot a second time, basking in the way it makes you squeak out a moan. 

“All those months of you acting like you hated me”, he starts, pressing down on your clit, “it was just you pretending, wasn’t it? Be honest, you wanted me. Say it!” 

“Oh god, oh god”, you moan, lost in the pleasure. He is curling your toes to the point that you fear they will cramp. You can feel how your belly is bulging with every thrust, the fill is mind numbing. 

“Answer me”, he orders, pinching your clit. 

“Ah!” you yelp, back arching off the mattress, “maybe, yeah maybe.” 

“That’s better, kitten”, he says, kissing your g-spot with his cock as a reward. Over and over and over again until you can feel the blood pulsate in your pussy. 

“Fuck”, he growls, hips stuttering for a moment, “your pussy’s good, all nice and tight for me”, he drags his hand down your thigh, throwing his head back, “taking my cock so well.” 

He rolls his thumb and speeds up, fucking your juices in and out of you. Skin slaps against skin, the bed creaks, the headboard bangs against the wall. You are close to screaming, luckily the music is loud enough to hide your noises. 

“Isn’t that so much better? Us fucking like that and not having to pretend to hate each other?” he pants, voice croaky in arousal. 

“Yeah, yeah, Seokjin, fuck”, you moan, nails hurting from twisting the sheets so roughly, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Do it”, he orders in a growl, playing your body like an instrument, “I want to feel you clench around me.” 

“Yes. Yes. Oh god. Yes!” you pant, coming undone in a series of curses and squeaky moans. Your body convulses, fighting against Seokjin’s cock and yet at same time it sucks him in deeper. He is an intruder and your savior at the same time. There at the end of your symphony of colours you can see a bright light. 

“Urgh”, Seokjin grunts and then your clenching gets too much for him. He cums in a guttural moan, fucking into you deep and fast. Despite the condom protecting you, you can feel his warm cum filling it up to the brim. 

One last shake of yours legs, one last buck of his hips and then he pulls out, putting your legs down gently. Once the condom is discarded of in poor Jimin’s open waste bin, Seokjin sits down next you. 

“Damn”, he falls down on the mattress, making your head bounce up at the movement, “I’m spent.” 

“Agreed”, you pant, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. You aren’t crying, you just do not want to blink as this would require far too much energy. 

“So? You liked it?” he asks, rolling his head to the side. He studies your side profile, drinking in the way your face is just so perfectly heated. 

You nod your head, “yeah, I gotta say, you really live up to your reputation.” 

“Ha! I knew it”, he exclaims. 

You look at him, right eyebrow cocked up in slight judgment. 

Seokjin grins sheepishly, “no, on a serious note, I liked it too. You’re really hot.” 

“Thanks”, you say, smiling lazily. 

Seokjin returns it before he looks back up at the ceiling. 

“So what do you have planned now?” 

You look back up at the ceiling as well. 

“I don’t know, honestly I’m probably gonna go home and watch a movie instead.” 

“Sounds fun.” 

“What are you gonna do now?” 

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. 

“I don’t know”, he tilts his head to the side, “weird, but I also have this big desire to go home and watch a movie. Huh.” 

He turns his head to you, staring at you intensely. You look at him. 

“What?” 

“I think you just cured my mood for party with your TWP”, he says, smirking. 

“Imma regret asking, but. TWP?” 

“Tight Wet Pussy”, he says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You burst into laughter. 

“I gotta give you this one. This was hilarious.”

[alaskasmonsters]

Chapped lips | Shigaraki Tomura

after that night, the night he'd first reached out for your hand, you and shigaraki had gotten a lot closer, even if that only meant you were holding hands a lot. or did it?

part 1

pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

w.c: 2.651

warnings: head empty just tooth-rotting fluff, also shigs being insecure about his skin, he’s still touch-starved :c

a.n: @hufflefluffslytherin​ asked for a part two and i really really really adore touch-starved shigaraki (and writing him) so i just had to comply!🥰🥰 (also if you’ve never seen fanart of shigaraki with his hair tied back i am so sorry, but you’ve been deprived)

Holding hands had become somehow normal between Tomura and you, although it usually ended up being in the privacy of his room. If Kurogiri noticed how close you’d gotten after he sent you to his room that one time he didn’t mention it. He’d only smile gently at you when you caught his...floating orbs. You weren’t sure if you could call it a smile when the guy didn’t have a mouth, or eyes….or a face. It was more like a vibe that you got from him.

The rest of the league had noticed the two of you had gotten closer, too. They were not stupid, after all. Well, they were all idiots, but they were smart idiots. You’d spent a lot more time at their lair now in consequence of you spending more time with Tomura. And of course every one of them had to give their two cents to the situation.

Toga would beam at you, teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with excitement, whenever the both of you were in the same room. When Tomura wasn’t present the girl would dreamily stare into the air, planning your wedding in detail. It was cute, almost endearing, if it wasn’t so embarrassing. You’d turn red as a beat and Toga would giggle at your flustered state.

Dabi turned to relentless teasing, constantly making jokes, some of which were so beyond inappropriate you’d loved to wash his mouth and your memory out with soap.

Compress was surprisingly soft on you, never once mentioning the new undetermined relationship between you and the boss, although you were certain he sent you winks from beneath that mask of his.

Spinner was being a little shit like always.

Tomura and you had grown closer in the process of your occurring hand holding sessions. Often you just sat next to him on the bed (yes, you’d gotten the privilege of being allowed on there), you would scroll through your various social media while Tomura explored the skin of your arms and your hands with his fingers.

You would have never expected he could be so...soft...quiet...calm...innocent. Just silently sitting next to you, staring at the ceiling or somewhere else (anything but you) while he let his fingers gently glide over your hands until you’d end up with your fingers intertwined.

He didn’t like talking a lot, you realized. Still private, still unrelentless.

It had taken weeks between then and now before you’d even gotten to this point. A point where Tomura felt comfortable enough to request your touch whenever he felt like it. Sometimes he just sent you the blank faced cat emoji and you knew that your presence was requested. You didn’t comment on it, just silently complied, sitting next to him in silence until he initiated the contact.

You knew he was still in disbelief about your nonchalance whenever he did reach out to touch you. He always did it so carefully, barely gracing your skin. As if he wanted to leave you enough time to react and pull back.

It was endearing.

Sometimes he tested you, brushing his fingers over parts of your upper arms, shoulder, leg, stomach, watching you out of calculating eyes, expecting, awaiting you to flinch back. You never did. Like you said, you didn't have it in you to mistrust Shigaraki in that way. All remaining resolve had crumbled the moment he’d first reached out for your hand.

When you knocked on his door that night, you were already buzzing with excitement, clenching the little item in your palms, something you’d brought for Tomura. You didn’t wait for his answer, already opening the door and slipping a moment later since he had sent the cat emoji earlier.

Tomura was sitting on his bed, game controller in his hand, the screen of his tv showing a shooter game was the only light that illuminated the room.

You had quickly realized Tomura enjoyed quiet and dark places.

He didn't look up, just glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, as you approached him and sat down next to him, already smiling. The item you brought was securely hidden in your palms.

The man hummed in greeting, scooting closer until your legs were touching slightly, barely brushing.

That was another thing you had noticed about him. Tomura wasn’t only enamored by holding your hand, but he craved the simplest of touches. It didn’t come as a surprise to you, considering most of his life everyone had been avoidant of him. You had figured he must be incredibly touch-starved, searching your warmth now that you’d willingly given it to him already, taking whatever he’d get.

It was cute.

You watched him play for a little while, supporting your weight on your hands as you leaned back onto your palms. But quickly your attention shifted, your eyes settling on the side of Shigafaki’s face. Eyes wandering from the scars around his eyes, to his dry lips and then to the sensitive skin on his neck...you could imagine it must hurt a lot.

You were a little familiar with impulsive behaviour like that, you’d bitten your fingernails for years, picked at the skin around them, too. It was a bad habit, one fueled by stress. Something you sometimes went back to whenever it would get too much. But you knew that was hardly comparable.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You were pulled from your thoughts by his hoarse voice, soft despite the scratchiness of it. You didn’t reply immediately, watching the ways the shadows danced across his features.

“Does it hurt?”

You didn’t have to point out what exactly you meant, he understood immediately.

“I’m used to it,” his answer was curt and you noticed how he lowered his head to let more of his hair fall into his face.

You hummed, not mentioned how tragic that truly was or how badly you wanted to hug him. He probably didn’t want your sympathy, perhaps even mistake it for pity.

You sat up instead, smiling widely in hope to ease the sullen mood as you raised your hand to finally uncover what you’ve been hiding all along.

“I’ve brought something,” you declared proudly.

Tomura glanced at the little item you held up to his face, eyes narrowing to read the name of the product. When he recognized what it was, he glanced up at your face, eyebrows furrowed in scepticism.

“Don’t tell me you want me to put that on my face.”

You laughed at the look of disgust in his eyes.

“It’s just ointment, don’t be so dramatic.”

He didn’t seem all too convinced by your words, face settled into a scowl.

“It’s really good, if you want to know my expert opinion,” you ignored the amused snort, “It’s moisturizing and helps with itches as well.”

He glanced at the object again, not very enthusiastic about the idea of it, you noticed, his face still purposefully lowered, his red eyes peeking out from beneath his white strands.

You cocked your head to the side.

“I could heal some of it, too, if it bothers you,” you suggested, although you knew you could really only do something against the recently damaged skin, nothing against the several small scars collected at the corner of his eyes or the base of his neck.

“Why, does it bother you?” he murmured, a sudden edge to his voice.

The grip around the game controller had tightened, although his pinkies were still skillfully spread to avoid disintegrating the piece of plastic.

“No,” you replied sternly.

Tomura hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the tub of ointment and your face a few times before he made a choice. He paused the game and carefully placed the controller on the nightstand.

“Fine,” he mumbled, head angles towards you, “You can put that shit on me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, itching to ask him to repeat himself, because you weren’t sure if you understood him correctly, if he really just agreed you could put ointment on his face. You. Not him, you.

But then he turned, until he was facing you completely, his legs crossed, knees bumping against the side of your legs and he watched you expectantly. You turned, too, positioning yourself so you were cross-legged as well and directly in front of him, trying to ignore the tingling in your stomach at being so intensely stared at by Tomura. You inched closer, bumping your knees more and the man leaned forward, almost expectantly, awaiting.

You stopped him with a raise of your hand and Tomura halted in his movements, squinting at the small object that you were now holding into his face. His forehead scrunched up at the sight of the hair tie in between your fingers and he gave you a sceptical look.

“Tie your hair back, Tomura.”

He grumbled, but complied to your request, lazily binding his hair together. A few strands fell out and back into his face and you softly pushed them behind his ears, not commenting on the way Tomura stilled at your touch.

Opening the tub of ointment, you put some of the substance on your fingers, glancing up at the man in front of you for approval. He was already looking at you with awaiting eyes.

Okay, if he didn’t make it weird you shouldn’t make it weird either.

You reached out to hold his face in place, cupping his left cheek gently. Tomura closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into your hand a little. You smiled slightly, raising your fingers with the ointment to the area around his eyes and started to carefully apply it to the skin.

The skin was rough under the pads of your fingers as you moved them over his face. He let you work in silence, the only sounds coming from him was the occasional hum whenever the cool ointment touched a specific sensitive area.

You moved on to the other side quickly, switching hands to apply the ointment with your left hand and hold Shigaraki’s face with your right, instead, to accommodate.

“Do you feel a difference?”, you asked softly, massaging the substance into his cheek.

He hummed.

“It’s nice.”

You smiled softly.

“Is it itching?”

He shook his head.

You moved on to his neck, occasionally glancing up at his face. It was relaxed, his eyes still closed, the corners of his lips slack. You smiled at the smoothened out features, your eyes getting stuck on the way down until you were staring at his lips. Dry and chapped but still kissable.

You froze in your movements.

Hold on, what.

Tomura had noticed you had stopped moving and cracked his eyes open, watching the expression on your face with interest.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You shook your head, desperately fighting the blush on your cheeks.

“Just thought you might wanna put lip balm on as well,” you replied calmly.

Good save.

The man scrunched up his face.

“You’ve brought that, too?”

You shrugged, spreading the last bit of ointment across his neck before you pulled back, massaging the leftovers of the substance into your hands.

“Well, i’ve got some with me,” you suggested, pulling it out of the back pocket of your pants.

Shigaraki eyed it suspiciously, raising his hand towards his neck before he halted in his movement, as he remembered your treatment, before he let it sink back into his lap.

“Don’t look so sceptical. It’s just a chapstick,” you laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in disgust.

To demonstrate you opened up the cap and rolled it up. Lifting it up to emphasize the plainness of your action before putting the lip balm on your lips. Smacking them together when you were done, presenting them with a grin.

Tomura looked thoughtful before he suddenly started smirking, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gave a nod of approval. You frowned in confusion but didn’t get the chance to ask him what he was being so cocky about before he suddenly leaned in and caught your lips gently between his.

Despite the tenderness behind his touch you felt like the air was just punched out of your lungs. You were completely frozen against him, not moving, not knowing how to move. The line connecting your brains and limbs, the one that was supposed to exchange signals had been cut off the second Tomura’s mouth had touched yours. The man’s lips moved against yours just before he pulled back again.

You blinked up at him, mouth agape in shock as a warmth, a burning heat, spread through your skin, your face turning red.

He watched you in amusement before he smacked his lips together, loudly, a wide grin spreading over his features when he saw your eyes widen in shock.

“Like this?” he asked innocently.

You choked on your spit at the boldness of...literally everything.

“You! I...” you stuttered helplessly.

He chuckled slightly, strands of his bangs falling back into his eyes, which made him look even better than before. You huffed in mock offence.

“I can’t believe you, Tomura,” you grumbled, playfully hitting his knee as you tried to calm down your fluttering heartbeat.

The man just cocked his head at you, calculating eyes trained on your features. His stare was so intense you felt your face heat up again, just as you had started to calm down again.

He chuckled slightly, slowly leaning forward again, which led you to stop breathing for a second or two...or longer. He came to a halt right before your lips would have touched again, innocently glancing up at you through his lashes.

“Why? Do you want to kiss me?” His voice was deep and alluring.

You didn’t answer, the words got caught in your throat, the trust in your own voice vanished.

How could he turn from an innocent touch-starved gamer boy into this in a matter of seconds? It didn’t seem very fair to you. Especially when you were the one on the receiving end of this behaviour. Worse of all, Tomura seemed to enjoy your sudden speechlessness greatly, eyes drilling into yours as he inched even closer, the look in his eyes dared you to make a move.

He was close enough so you could feel his hot breath on your lips, so close the fruity smell of the ointment (you’d chosen a peach scent) assaulted your nose. All you could think was “Fuck it.” and throw caution out of the window.

You closed the remaining distance, planting your mouth on his and gained a satisfied hum in response. You smiled at the reaction, grabbing his face and pulling him more into you.

Tomura gave into your touch with ease, leaning in even more, searching your touch. He held your wrist, his pinky spread.

His lips were chapped and felt rough against yours, but you didn’t mind, not even a little bit. The kiss was heated, both of you getting more passionate as you deepened the kiss, the feeling indescribable. Your whole skin was tingling, your brain surely turned into mush.

Tomura wasn’t allowed to be this good at kissing, you thought. Did he kiss someone before or was this his first kiss? It couldn’t be...or?

The two of you parted when you ran out of air, both of you breathing heavily into the small space you’ve left between you. Tomura squeezed your wrist and chuckled breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared you down. His eyes were sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite pin down but knew enough about for you to feel a little dizzy being looked at with.

“You really are crazy, you know that,” he whispered, a tone close to astonishment in his voice.

You just smiled, thumb brushing over the warm skin of his cheek.

Crazy for you, Tomura.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​  @hufflefluffslytherin​  @duf3h6237​  @chucky-26o1​

[berrycenterstage]

Something To Think About

WHO: Rachel Berry

WHEN: Wednesday, January 27, 2021

WHERE: The Lopez-Pierce Apartment, Chelsea

WHAT: Rachel meets Santana and Brittany for dinner to share her latest life-changing news.

Rachel absently taps her fingernail against her glass of Sauvignon Blanc as she listens to Santana bitch about the latest case she's been working on. It's not that she's not listening exactly. (She's kind of not.) It's just that her mind is on the thing she really wants to say but hasn't found the right moment to say yet.

It's Wednesday evening, and she's sharing a holiday dinner with friends after wrapping up a mildly unproductive day at her workshop. It's not exactly a holiday, but Brittany has it in her head that she needs to celebrate Holocaust Remembrance Day with Rachel because Rachel is her closest Jewish friend. It's very weird and more than a little inappropriate, but sometimes it's just easier to not argue with Brittany about these things, and at least Rachel hadn't needed to worry about dinner today. Brittany may be a lot of things, but she usually manages to remember that Rachel doesn't eat meat. (It only took about six years.)

The spaghetti aglio e olio is excellent. (Santana had paired hers with a side of steak.)

The black streamers hanging around the apartment and the candles arranged in a Star of David are less excellent, but Rachel is ignoring them like a pro.

Quinn had been wise to politely decline her own invitation, although she'd also had the excuse of working extra hours to get one of the books that she's currently managing to press on time. Coming into the city on a Wednesday night during the evening commute just to spend an hour or two with their friends - because they are their friends again - before heading right back home just really isn't worth it.

"Are we having a high school flashback to your laryngitis episode?" Santana's annoyed voice finally cuts in, drawing Rachel's attention back from her musings. "Are you gonna sing 'The Climb' again?"

Rachel responds with an inelegant, "Huh?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "I asked if Henrietta Hayseed is still giving you lip. "Cause I'll go Lima Heights on her hick ass if you want." Her lips curl into an evil smirk. "It'll help me blow off some steam."

Rachel shakes her head. "Her name is Helena, and no." Although she does appreciate Santana's offer to dispose of her professional rivals for her, even if she does have ulterior motives. They truly have come a long way since high school. "She made the mistake of calling Kevin a hack so they cut her." And really, why a twenty year old actress who's only been in the chorus of an off-Broadway production would be so bold to an up-and-coming composer who'd plucked her from anonymity for his workshop is beyond Rachel. "We're currently down a Ruth again," and it may be partially Rachel's fault that they're having so much trouble casting the character since they'd wanted her for the part until she'd sung her way into Idgie instead, "and I spent a very unproductive day today trying to convince them to cast Stephanie in the part."

Her friend is currently unemployed, and Rachel would love to work with her again, and she trusts Stephanie to not stab her in the back for the better solo.

Santana's brows furrow over a frown. "Why unproductive? You two have mad chemistry."

Brittany nods in agreement. "I totally shipped you with her in your last show."

That apparently was a thing that happened a lot, though, really, it was Andy and Emily they shipped. "Which is apparently why they're reluctant," Rachel relays with a rueful smile. "They don't want anyone making comparisons to The Devil Wears Prada."

"Please, there's no comparison," Santana scoffs, sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed. "If your thing makes it to the stage, it's gonna be such a downer."

Rachel glares at her, crossing her own arms. "That's awfully judgy of you, Santana. The full book and score aren't even finished yet."

"The book is already a book, Berry," Santana reminds her testily. "The bisexual marries a dude, gets abused, then dies, and her lesbian lover ends up raising her kid alone."

Rachel huffs, fully offended by the oversimplification of the plot, and flails a hand in her direction. "That's not…you know what? You have no appreciation for nuanced drama."

"What I have no appreciation for is dead sapphics," Santana bitches haughtily. Rachel continues to pout at her, hoping that's not really a thing that might keep other women-loving-women away from her show. "Oh, chill out," her friend finally says, shaking her head. "I'll still come see your show anyway, along with all our friends, and it's not like Fabray won't show up a few dozen times with her pom-poms to cheer you on."

The mention of Quinn brings an instant smile to Rachel's face, even as Brittany asks, "We can do that? I'm totally bringing my pom-poms next time we go to a show," she tells her wife, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh…can I wear my uniform too?"

Santana's complexion grows a little ruddy, and Rachel feels her smile turn bemused. "You still have that?"

Brittany nods happily. "Yeah, San likes it when I…"

"Britt, babe," Santana cuts in hastily. "How about we keep that for the bedroom, huh?"

"Sure," Brittany agrees with a shrug before turning her attention back to Rachel "Do you and Quinn play with her Flight Crew uniform in the bedroom too?"

Rachel feels her own face heat, and her eyes dart away self-consciously. "The team generally frowns on that." But what they don't know won't hurt anyone.

"Oh, you totally do," Santana accuses around devilish laughter. "God, a year later, and you're still so gross about her."

Rachel's smile is back in force, because, "I love her." And this feels like precisely the opening she's been waiting for. "In fact, we've recently decided to take our relationship to the next level."

Brittany gasps in delight, blue eyes wide. "You're getting married!" She bounces in her seat, clapping, "Yay!"

"No. No," Rachel denies, reaching a palm across the table towards Brittany in an attempt to calm her excitement and not failing to notice that Santana's expression doesn't match her wife's at all. "We're not quite at that level yet." She hopes they will be one day, and her smile widens. "But we are moving in together."

Brittany's excitement dims only marginally. "Yay for that too."

But Santana -

"You're not serious," she growls around an incredulous expression.

Rachel feels her smile waver slightly. "I am. Her roommate, Kaitlyn, just got engaged, and she's moving in with her fiancé in two months, so I asked Quinn to move in with me."

She's still incredibly excited about it, though she and Quinn haven't made any decisions about the when or where or how of it beyond the momentous decision to do it at all. They'd admittedly gotten a little carried away with the celebration of that momentous decision, but they still have two months to pull it all together, and Rachel has a perfectly good apartment that Quinn can move into if they don't find something to both of their likings (and price points) before then.

Santana plants her palms on the table in front of her and leans forward. "Are you out of your Broadway loving mind?"

Brittany instantly leans into her, hand on her arm. "Santana, baby. We're cool with Quinn again, remember?"

"No, I'm cool with the dating thing," Santana dismisses sharply. "But living together is something else entirely."

"The dating thing?" Rachel repeats crossly, quickly growing irritated with Santana's antagonistic attitude. "We're in a committed, loving relationship, Santana." Which she knows very well, and Rachel points an accusatory finger at her. "Where is this even coming from? You forgave Quinn months ago. You're even friends again. Well, almost," she amends with a frown. "What passes for friendship with the two of you anyway." The snark and occasional digs about their unfortunate shared past are more affection than animosity these days.

Santana puffs out an agitated breath and drags a hand through her hair. "I have forgiven her, okay. I get it. I was a bitch when I found out she was back in your life, but I gave her a chance, and I get that she's changed." Her expression turns remorseful. "I see how happy you are with her, Rachel."

All of Rachel's righteous anger fades into confusion. "Then I don't understand why you're not happy for me."

Santana purses her lips. "She's had Kaitlyn all this time, keeping an eye on her and making sure she doesn't flip her shit again. And now, all of a sudden, it's just gonna be you?"

Okay, the righteous anger is back again. "You don't think I can deal with one of her episodes? God, Santana. We've been together for almost a year now. I've been through episodes with her before."

Santana nods in acknowledgment, but she doesn't look happy about it. "Not that many though. I mean, I guess you've been handling it well enough so far, but you've never needed to do it by yourself. You've always had Kaitlyn there to take the lead."

"I can take care of my girlfriend, Santana," she defends hotly, not liking the implication. So what if Kaitlyn has been looking out for Quinn too. "I'm not a child who needs to be told what to do."

"No." Santana flings her hands up in frustration. "You're a fucking Broadway star who's barely home when you're doing a show," she points out in exasperation. "I know you had a nice little honeymoon phase with Q after you took your last bow as Andy, but you just made this brand new commitment to Fried Green Tomatoes. You're already spending long, unpredictable hours in your workshop. What's gonna happen if it goes into production for real and you're gone all afternoon and night and Quinn starts spiraling all alone in your apartment?" The picture Santana is painting isn't one that Rachel wants to see, and she really wishes her friend would stop talking now, but of course she doesn't. "You're gonna get home at two in the morning and walk into a manic Quinn Fabray bouncing off your walls or worse." She points a finger at Rachel, frowning deeply. "Are you really ready for what that's gonna be like? What it could mean for Quinn?"

Santana's entire posture is begging Rachel to hear her and understand why she's concerned, and Rachel hates so very much that she does, but she stiffens her spine and digs in her heels. "I know what could happen, Santana." She's seen Quinn through some pretty bad moments, and she's all too aware that there could be worse ones ahead. "But I know that Quinn and I can get through anything as long as we're together."

Santana sags back in her chair, looking frustrated. "You're still such a hopeless fuckin' romantic."

"San," Brittany coos softly, rubbing her arm.

Santana sighs in resignation. "I know I'm not gonna change your mind, Rachel. But please, for both your sakes, make sure you know exactly what you're signing up for here before you commit to this," she pleads, her tone uncommonly soft with concern. "And, for god sake, be honest with yourself about whether you can really handle it."

Beneath the table, Rachel clenches her hands into fists. "I can handle it."

She can.

"I have faith in you, Rach," Brittany assures her with a gentle smile. "You and Quinn belong together."

Rachel exhales in an attempt to release some of the tension she's now carrying thanks to Santana's unwelcome warning, and she forces a faint smile of her own. "Thank you, Brittany."

"Yeah, congrats, whatever," Santana mutters, pushing up from the table. "I'm gonna grab another beer." And then she disappears into the kitchen.

Brittany stares after her wife with a frown before she turns back to Rachel with a sympathetic expression. "Santana's just worried about both of you. Living with someone is kind of a big change to make, and, like, moving is always super stressful anyway."

Tension coils in Rachel's stomach all over again at the needless reminder. BIg changes aren't exactly great for Quinn. But she nods and says, "I know."

She does.

Rachel has absolutely no doubts about her decision whatsoever; no matter what disasters Santana imagines could happen.

She can do this, and she will.

[pillage-and-lute]

@thequeeninyellowlace requested “ Geraskier discovering that angry, testy Lambert is actually a big kitten? ❤️❤️”

Warning: some derogatory language, especially anti-sex work slang (although all the witchers are canonically pro-sex work)

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“I can’t believe you brought your bard to the keep,” Lambert groused. It was the same complaint he’d had all week, ever since Geralt arrived with Jaskier in tow.

“He’s my bard, this is my home,” Geralt said. “I wanted to bring him here.”

Lamberts stood, slamming his mug on the dinner table and glaring at Jaskier. “You wanted a whore to warm your bed in the winter.”

“No,” Jaskier said calmly, turning over a page in the book he’d borrowed from the keep’s library. “Geralt wanted a slut to keep his bed warm in the winter. That’s me.”

“I don’t see a difference,” Lambert growled.

“Lambert c’mon,” Eskel groaned. “This is getting old.”

“The difference,” Jaskier said, speaking over the scarred wolf but not looking up from his book. “Is that I love Geralt very much and I fuck him for free.”

Lambert stormed out, presumably to go throw things about in the armory. Geralt pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s hair.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “He’s not good with change.”

“It’s okay, dear heart, I’m sure he’ll warm up to me.”

Eskel stood and began clearing the dinner dishes. “Good luck with that,” he said.

Vesemir smiled across at Geralt and Jaskier, who were sitting so closely entwined. It was good to see his reclusive pup happy, and he had an idea what had gotten under Lambert’s skin. Before he retired to the library, Vesemir paused, resting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Jaskier smiled in return.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Some days later the younger wolves were relaxing in the hot springs after training. Vesemir had well and truly put them through their paces and their muscles needed a good, long soak. 

Jaskier appeared, looking almost as beat as they felt. He’d been tending the handful of sheep and two goats that Vesemir kept, mending their fence today. In the cold, with the animals butting in and distrustful, it was hard, slow work. He slid in beside Geralt with a sigh.

Lambert huffed, but, exhausted, wasn’t about to leave the hot springs. Eskel eyed him in amusement.

Geralt, to the shock of everyone but himself and Jaskier, curled himself in and rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier didn’t even blink and instead reached around and began stroking Geralt’s back and shoulders soothingly. This continued for a few minutes, the other wolves watching a little dumbly. Then Geralt pressed a light kiss to Jaskier’s collar bone and turned around on the ledge, resting his arms out of the bath. Jaskier took this in his stride too and began firmly kneading out the knots between Geralt’s shoulder blades. 

Lambert saw the difference now. Jaskier wasn’t a whore, because even the best paid ones wouldn’t touch so...reverently. They didn’t gentle the tension out of scarred skin and pull the knots from muscles. He shot a glance at Eskel, who was watching with the same half envy half hunger that he felt.

Then Jaskier just got up and walked over to a basket settled next to the wall. He and Geralt had brought that too, it had soaps and oils in it. Jaskier hesitated for a moment, then he picked up the whole basket and brought it to the edge of the hot spring. 

He settled back in, seemingly unaware of the eyes on him, and handed Geralt a bar of soap. It was the usual pale yellow-white color for soap, but Vesemir made all his soap in a big vat and it smelled to high heaven and cleaned by taking a layer of skin off every time it was used. This stuff smelled nice.

“Chamomile,” Eskel said, sniffing. “And bergamot?” 

“Very good,” Jaskier said. “It’s Geralt’s favorite.”

Geralt having a favorite soap was news to his brothers, but they didn’t comment. Jaskier poured a little oil into his hands, but it was mixed with soap or something, because he rubbed it into a bit of a lather and began to work it through Geralt’s hair. 

Geralt reacted like a pampered housecat, arching back into the touch and humming as Jaskier worked. The bard seemed to be doing something of a scalp massage while cleaning and the wolves heard a rumble start up in Geralt’s chest.

It wasn’t purring, not exactly. But all witchers could do it, only when they were truly relaxed of course. It was a whole chest rumble that always seemed to soak into their bones. Lambert scowled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d purred.

Eventually, with Geralt boneless against the side of the pool, Jaskier finished, rinsing the suds from snow white hair and kissing the back of Geralt’s head.

“Alright,” Jaskier said, pulling two more bars of soap from his basket. “Pick one, each of you.”

“What?” Lambert said. 

“I brought five types of soap, Geralt told me about what you all have up here. So I brought his and mine, and one for each of you. Vesemir already picked his.”

“Did he?” Geralt asked.

“Yes dear heart, he gave me the tour the other day, picked that fig and goat’s milk one I brought”

“Hmmm,” Geralt replied, seemingly fast asleep.

Obediently, and somewhat hypnotized, Eskel and Lambert leaned forward to sniff each soap bar. 

The first made Eskel’s nose crinkle, and he quickly moved on to the second one, but Lambert lingered. The first one was nice. 

It was slightly green, which was weird, but it was nice.

They each picked the one they wanted and Jaskier smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “Now let me wash your hair.”

“Geralt,” Lambert said, immediately on edge. “Your bard is trying to fuck us.”

“My bard,” the white wolf answered drowsily, “Is trying to help you. Be nice.”

“You first,” Lambert muttered to Eskel. Eskel just shrugged and let Jaskier work on his back, settling in to a very similar position to the one Geralt had taken. He let out a few grunts as the bard worked skilled fingers into the cords of muscle on either side of his spine, but they certainly didn’t sound pained. Eskel even chatted quietly with Geralt as Jaskier worked. Then, obediently, he let Jaskier wash his hair.

“The soap you picked is oat and lavender,” the bard said. “So I have lavender oil for your hair, but tell me if it’s too strong, we can use something else.”

Eskel sniffed as Jaskier poured some of the faintly purple liquid into his palm. “Smells fine,” he said. Jaskier smiled, humming faintly as he worked it into Eskel’s hair, commenting a few times on how well kept it was. 

“Geralt always let’s his turn into a rat’s nest whenever I’m away.”

That made Eskel and Lambert raise their eyebrows. Geralt had always been meticulous about his hair, more so than was practical for a witcher. Eyebrows raised further when he blushed slightly and avoided their gaze.

The scalp massage continued and, to Lambert’s complete surprise, Eskel began to purr quietly. Jaskier smiled, but not mockingly or cruelly, and continued his work.

Eventually Jaskier finished with Eskel’s hair and then looked towards Lambert questioningly. “I don’t have to wash your hair if you’d rather I didn’t,” he said. “But I like doing it, and I think you’d like it too.”

“Let him, Lamb,” Geralt grunted before Lambert could say anything. 

“I was going to,” he grumbled as he turned around. 

The first press of hands into his back nearly burned. 

Money was scarce on the Path, even with Toss a Coin playing in every tavern. This year had been harsh on many of the villages Lambert passed through too, and they paid him what they could. 

Sometimes he was in the business of returning most or all of the payment, if things were bad.

All that to say, there had been no prostitutes, or bed mates of any kind, all year. Maybe one or two the year before that. Apart from his brothers, who he sparred with and got drunk with, almost no one touched him.

Jaskier touched him like being afraid of him was a foreign concept. Calloused fingers found every knot and point of tension and worked them out. Lambert felt like dough under a rolling pin.

“Where did you learn this?” he wondered aloud. “And why?”

Jaskier chuckled, digging his fingers into Lambert’s neck as he did so in a way that should have set off alarm bells but instead just sent electricity down his spine. “See,” Jaskier said. “I spent my time at university working for a bathhouse to make extra money-well, it was mostly a brothel but it offered baths. I just warmed up towels and sliced soap.”

“Mmmhm,” Lambert said, feeling his mind numb under the onslaught of touch.

“And one of the older women there, Rosie, lovely lady, taught me to make soap and find the right ones. Also taught me about massage, not the happy ending kind, that education I got elsewhere, but good information.”

It must have been, Lambert thought. It felt like Jaskier’s hands were touching his soul through his skin. 

Then Jaskier moved on to his hair. 

Lambert let the feeling wash over him as gentle fingers kneaded into his head, taking away headaches he hadn’t known were there. Manicured fingernails scratched lightly at his scalp. 

It was so good.

It was so nice to be touched when it wasn’t sex or sparring. It felt like a balm on Lambert’s soul and he’d been so jealous. Geralt had brought the bard and gotten all the touch he could want and left Eskel and Lambert without, but he was sharing this. It was like honey inside his brain. To his shame Lambert felt his eyes prickle. 

Witchers could cry. Their eyes didn’t tear up with wind, dust, or pain as much, because that could compromise their eyesight in battle, but emotion could bring tears. 

“It’s okay,” Geralt whispered, although not so low that Jaskier wouldn’t hear. “He won’t judge you.”

“I did too, a little,” Eskel said. Had he? Lambert hadn’t noticed. He let tears fall mixing with the moisture from the steam on his face. Jaskier reached around to get more oil and one landed on his hand, so he brushed a thumb down the tear track on Lambert’s face.

It could have, should have felt either patronizing or romantic. It wasn’t. It was just intimate. Gentle, intimate, platonic touch. Lambert began to cry a little harder. 

Geralt sidled over and leaned against him, pressing their shoulders together. Eskel joined in on the other side so that Lambert was sandwiched between his older brothers. 

They sat like that until Jaskier rinsed out Lambert’s hair.

He’d taken longer on the wash, Lambert noted, even though he had the least hair of the three of them. He was grateful for it. 

Eskel and Lambert watched as Geralt washed Jaskier’s hair, passing Geralt the bottle of oil--mint, to go with the mint and honey soap Jaskier favored--whenever Geralt needed it.

Lambert realised he was purring, and wondered how long he’d been doing it, but he had a pretty good idea.

[yuta-senpai]

Dating App | Changbin

- Pairing: Changbin x Female Reader

- Genre: Smut

- Warnings: PWP, protected sex, and hookup

- Word Count: 1.9k

You sat on the couch eating popcorn as you half-ass watched the movie that was playing.  You were more focused on your phone, well to be exact, who was on your phone.  Single life was great, you didn’t want anything serious, but sometimes you just needed attention.  You swiped left on so many people you had lost track.  None of the men caught your attention, they all looked too rough or like fuck bois.  I guess you have a certain type you like, it probably stems from your love of anime. 

As you were swiping you paused to admire a gorgeous man, his name was Changbin.  He had soft features but still looked manly.  You bit your lip and pressed the “Super Like” button.  To your surprise, you matched with him.  “Holy shit!” You typed up a message, ‘Hey I just wanted to slide into your dms.’ 

Wait... No that’s stupid.  You deleted the message and tried to think of something better but nothing.

This is why you never had dates, you couldn’t think of a way to catch their attention.

Your phone buzzed signifying a new message, it was a message from Changbin.  You squealed and clicked on it. 

‘Hey, beautiful.  Why are you a somebody on a site full of nobody’s?’ You were taken aback by what he said, but it was also kind of sweet.

‘I guess sometimes loneliness pushes you to extremes.’

‘I understand, would you like me to be a somebody or a nobody.’

You giggled and smiled. 

‘Well as of now I’d like you to be a somebody.’

‘How about we talk on Snap, it’s SPEARB’

You laughed at the snap name ‘Why that name?’

‘Add me and I will tell you.’

You added him on Snapchat and he sent a cute picture of himself lying in bed. 

Fixing your hair you applied a filter and sent a picture back.

‘Damn girl you are appealing to the eye.’

‘That’s such a weird way to put it.’

‘Maybe I’m a bit weird.  So what are you doing tonight?’

‘Honestly, probably gonna watch movies and you?’

Usually, you had to talk to somebody for a couple of weeks before you would be willing to meet but you liked this guy.

‘Well, I was hoping to go to the bar with a pretty girl.’

“Ohh well I could clear my movie-watching schedule and we could always go to the bar together?’

‘Sounds like a date to me.  Meet me at Stray bar at 8 pm?’

‘See you there.’

You jumped up excited and looked at the clock realizing you only had a little over two hours to get ready.  You took a quick shower, put on makeup, fixed your hair, and lastly, you needed an outfit.  The bar you were going to was pretty chill but you didn’t want to look boring.  Something that showed your dominant side, so you changed and headed to the bar. 

You arrived at the bar around 5 minutes early and walked up to sit down at the bar.  You opened Snapchat and sent a picture to Changbin ‘I’m here.’

He read it but didn’t answer, you sighed as you figured you had been catfished.  

You ordered a beer and waited for another 15 minutes and he still wasn’t there.  Your beer was already empty, and he was 10 minutes late.  

‘Are you still coming?’

He read it again and no response, you groaned and got up, ready to walk out the bar when an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Sorry beautiful I got stuck in traffic, and then I have to admit I had to build up the courage to come over and talk to you.” The words rolled off of his tongue like honey, and all you could imagine was that tongue on you.  He really did something to you, and you barely knew him.  You bit your lip, “It’s fine, I understand that things happen.” Both of you walked back over to the bar and ordered your drinks, you spent almost 2 hours getting to know each other, and you got a bit tipsy. 

Around 11 pm both of you decided it was time to head home, “Hey Y/N, I don’t think you should drive.  Let me drive you home.” “Nah, I’m fine.  Plus I don’t want to leave my car.” “Please, I insist.  I’ll pick you up in the morning so you can get your car.” You sighed, “Fine I give in.” He drove you back to your place, and when you were getting ready to leave you stopped.

“So I usually don’t do this, but would you like to come in?  It’s late and I don’t want you to have to drive back.”

He smirked, “Of course I’ll come in.” You unlocked your door, and the moment he stepped in he pushed you against the wall his lips attacking yours. 

You flipped him over, pressing his back against the wall. 

“Damn couldn’t even wait just a few moments.”

He slid your jacket off exposing your neck to him, he kissed down your neck and sucked leaving his mark. 

“You look so good, I couldn’t resist.  If you want me to stop tell me.”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt you pulled him towards you and licked your lips. 

He growled, “Is that a yes then?” You ran your tongue over his collar bone and sucked leaving your mark too.

“It’s a yes.”

He grabbed your hand and guided it down to hardened dick, “See what you do to me, see how hard you made me?”

You gripped it tightly in your hand. “Is it all for me?” He breathed out lowly. “It’s all yours tonight.” Grabbing his hand you led him into the bedroom and pushed him down onto the bed roughly. 

You crawled over to him and straddled him, slowly grinding against him.  He took a deep breath and leaned on his elbows admiring the view.  You ran your hands down his chest and then up under his shirt.  “How about we take this off?”

He leaned up and let you slide his shirt over his head.  His lips attaching to yours.  His hands sliding around under your shirt, grabbing your waist.  You ground down against him again.

“My turn.” He flipped you over so he was on top.  You bit your lip as you placed your hand on top of his head, “Take them off with your teeth.”

He kissed down your clothed chest to the hem of your bottoms.  His teeth digging into the waistband of the fabric as he pulled them down a ways.  His hands gripped the waistband as he slid your bottoms off the rest of the way.

He made eye contact with you as he looked up from between your legs.  He pushed your panties aside, and groaned.  “Look at you, so wet for me.”

He gently blew against your core then pressed two fingers against you.  He pushed them inside and curled them up, immediately pressing against your most sensitive spot.  You arched your back and gasped.  He leaned up, hovering over you as he worked his fingers in an out of you.

He smirked at the view, “I love getting to see you squirm under me. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

You used your foot to push him back, he removed his fingers from your core, and then you stood up and turned him around forcing him to sit down on the bed.  Your barely clothed core pressing against his fully clothed dick.

“But what if I want to see you squirm underneath me?” You ran your fingernails along his chest and stomach causing him to fidget underneath you.  “Such an obedient baby boy, look at you.”

Right when you thought you had control he growled, manhandling you and flipping you so your face was in the mattress and your ass was in the air.  He leaned down close to your ear and whispered, “I am not a baby boy.”

You turned your head so you could talk, “You look like a baby boy to me.” He smacked your ass.  You heard his belt buckle as if he was undoing his pants.  “I will prove I’m not.” “You know by how angry you got by that it just further enforces just how much of a baby boy you are.”

“God you are such a brat.” He pulled your panties down to your knees, exposing your wet core to him. 

You tried to lean up but he pushed your upper half into the mattress even more, “Stay there and behave….. Baby girl.” Your eyebrow twitched at the pet name.  You heard him moving around a bit then heard him opening a condom.  As he was rolling on the condom you rolled over onto your back, got off of the bed, and pushed him onto the bed, straddling him. 

He was caught off guard by your sudden movement giving you enough to line him up and slide him into you.  You placed your hands on his chest, slowly moving on him.  

You rolled your head back and moaned as you rotated your hips.  His hands dug into your waist and he groaned.  He moved your hands off of his chest and leaned up, sitting up.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and bounced up and down, his dick stretching you. 

He groaned, “Ahh fuck.”

His hands slid under your shirt, wrapping around your waist.  “Can I take this off?”

You nodded and raised your arms up over your head.  He slid his hands up your sides, slowly taking your shirt off.  Once it was over your head his hands went behind your back to unclip your bra.  Finally freeing your breasts for him. He gripped your breasts in his hands then leaned forward and kissed right above your left nipple.  He swirled his tongue around it, making your back arch.  His lips softly wrapped around it and he sucked, making you tighten.  He pulled away with a pop. 

“So sensitive for me.”

He started thrusting up into you and his jaw clenched.

“No cumming until I say so?  Okay baby boy?” He rolled his eyes and you smacked his thigh, “Learn to behave.” “I won’t behave for you,” he gripped your hips and started to roll up into you faster, trying to be dominant even with you on top.  

You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees, forcing his dick to hit the exact right spot to send shocks of pleasure through your body.  Your high was nearing 

“Don’t you dare cum yet, baby girl.” He flipped you over so he was on top your back landing on the sheets, “You and I will cum together.” Changbin gripped your hips and thrusted into you at a shocking speed.  You gripped onto the sheets and moaned.  “Holy shit.” 

Your breasts bounced with each thrust and the knot in your stomach formed quickly.  You let yourself fall over the edge.  You tightened around him, your back arching as you came.  

“Did you just cum without me?” You smirked and bit your lip, “You aren’t my dominant so you have no say in when I cum.”

He growled and continued to thrust into you even harder, his thrusts became sloppy as he came. 

His hair stuck to his forehead as he leaned forward, he pulled out and rest his head on your stomach.

“Well that was fun Y/N.” You raised an eyebrow, “Damn that was a sudden personality change.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Date Night • The Marauders

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon

Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners

Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️

****

The four of you very rarely had free time.

Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.

So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.

Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.

The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.

You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.

A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.

You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.

“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”

Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.

Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.

So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.

“But James...” He groans.

“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“

“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.

Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.

“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”

This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.

You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.

“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”

“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.

He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.

“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.

“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.

“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”

There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.

Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.

As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.

It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.

James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.

There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.

“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.

Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.

So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.

The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.

With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.

“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.

A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.

Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.

Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.

James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.

“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.

There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.

There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.

Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.

You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.

Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.

You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—

“Oi!”

The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.

“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.

“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”

“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.

“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.

Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.

“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”

“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.

You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.

“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.

“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.

Sirius sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.

“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”

You snicker at his balled up fists.

“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.

Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.

“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

[bonkers-4-hatter]

!Yandere !Vampire Kisumi X Reader - Love Bites

♥ TW: This fanfic has mentions of kidnapping, violence, assault, biting and mentions of blood along with the biting, forced intimacies, forcing self onto the reader at certain points and yandere themes and actions. ♥ If any of the above does trigger you, please do not read. All characters are 18+ as college is mentioned in the past tense. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥                                                                                              ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥                                  You were never one to believe in such things as mythical creatures, it was just a bunch of nonsense. Of course, they’re wonderful tall tales to tell and talk about when you were younger, but you’re grown now; out of that phase you could say.

Tall tales, that’s all they were...at least you thought they were.

You could draw everything that you’ve experienced and seen as a lack of sleep, working too hard, or just needing a break to calm your mind, but with the most recent experiences you just couldn’t come up with an excuse for them and that very thought chilled you to your core. The dark figure standing in the corner of your room at night using the darkness as a veil, but the thing that stood out to you was the flickers of pink from the top of the figure's head from the small slivers of moonlight peeking through the closed curtains. 

Not only did the figure terrify you, but the touches were what set you over the edge. The soft touches that caressed your cheeks, head and the curves and contours of your body as the hands glided across your blanket covered body. You would always peek your eyes open only to see the same pink hair in your view.

The only person you knew with pink hair was Kisumi. 

He was your friend, a close friend at that. You guys did everything together, having been friends since College it just made sense for you guys to do things together. His behavior used to be carefree, fun and just free. Kisumi was a free spirit, but you noticed something change within him in the past few years; he was more possessive toward you. Always wanting to have your attention, scaring off potential significant others.

This wasn’t his usual behavior with you. Not only that, but his mannerisms have changed too. Not really eating in front of you, coming over at night only; claiming his new job had him working mornings many days and just being too exhausted to go anywhere with you during the day. Just weird things that have come up that rubbed you the wrong way. 

You hated that your mind went to these tall tales of Vampires, but you couldn’t come up with a normal answer. With his towering figure plaguing your mind, the touches that came in contact with your resting body and the constant fear and shiver of being watched by something unknown, hidden, just lurking in the shadows with their eyes fixated on you. 

Looking at how Kisumi was laughing and socializing with your guys’ group of friends, it’s as if nothing changed with him and he was the same ole Kisumi that everyone knew and had a great time with. He might have been able to fool the rest of your friends, but you knew something was up and tonight you were going to confront him even if you sounded like a lunatic. Taking a final drink of your (favorite drink), you placed some money on the table to cover your portion of the bill along with everyone else as everyone started to get up and say their goodbyes, making plans to meet up again next month as usual. 

Giving a final wave to your friends, you felt an arm snake around your shoulders and pulled you into a firm body. “(Y/N)-chan, let’s get you home.” Kisumi’s smooth voice filtered through your ears as you both made your way down the mostly empty sidewalk, the chatter and lively atmosphere of the restaurant dying away the further you walked away. The only noise that echoed around the silent street was both of your footsteps.

“You know I can get myself home, right Kisu?” He only shook his head and rubbed your shoulder, his cold skin giving you goosebumps as he brushed his fingers against the skin of your exposed upper arm. That was another weird thing with him, he was always cold now. He used to be warm, overly warm actually, always a human furnace. Now though, he was always cold to the touch and it always made you shiver no matter how many times it happened. 

“I know (Y/N), but I have to protect you from all the monsters out there, don’t I?” Another shiver ran down your spine at his question, you knew it was playful. It was Kisumi, he was always playful when it came to you, but this felt like it held an underlying meaning; like he was trying to tell you something. Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at his words. “Sure, the monsters Kisumi, whatever you say.” He laughed at your words as the both of you continued to walk down the street in silence. 

Clearing your throat, you decided to just ask him. “So, speaking of monsters, what do you think about vampires?” Kisumi stopped walking as he grasped your shoulder in a tight grip making you reel back as well. “What the hell Kisumi?!” Your shoulder burned a bit at how hard he dug his fingernails into your skin, but he still didn’t let go. Looking at his face he had a stoic look and his eyes were menacing in a way; narrowed and pointed right at you. “Vampires? Now, why would little (Y/N)-chan bring up such a thing as Vampires?” The malice that was laced in his voice was evident and downright terrifying especially in a situation where you were alone with him at night on an empty street. 

You tried to yank yourself away from his strong hold, but he didn’t let up. “It was a joke Kisumi, what’s wrong with you?” He only smirked at your words, before pushing against your shoulder until you hit the brick wall of one of the buildings. “A joke huh?” Placing his other hand on your free shoulder, he pinned you in place, the brick rubbing against your exposed skin in a way that it surely would leave marks. Before you could protest, Kisumi leaned down to your ear and whispered, “Do you think it’s a joke as you watch me in the corner of your room, or when I touch your delicious body in bed?” Your breath caught in your throat at his words. 

Your hands pushed hard against his chest, fear crawling up your body at his words. “That’s not fucking funny Kisu, I’m leaving.” Without waiting for him to respond, you shoved your way past him, resuming the trek to your house. Even the thought of your house wasn’t safe, it made you even more fearful, but you didn’t have much of a choice at this point. You felt like the darkness was suffocating you at this point and without a second thought, you ran the remainder of the few blocks, your front door in your view making you somewhat relieved. 

Deadbolting the door, your body slid down, settling at the floor. You felt exhausted, fearful and not to mention paranoid. Heavy eyes scanned the living room and what you could see of your hallway and everything seemed clear. Getting up with weak legs, you turned on every light in the house paying no mind to the thought of your electric bill nor how silly it seemed. This was what made you feel safe and at this point you were going to do anything to feel that way. 

After changing into some pajamas and trying to relax from the encounter with Kisumi, you found yourself wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, television playing a cliche horror movie. Wanting something to take your mind off what happened, you got sucked into the black and white film.

Your mind was completely preoccupied with the slasher film, blanket clutched in your hands, hiding your face behind the fuzzy comfort item as specific gory and violent scenes would pop on the screen. Usually you would watch these movies, any movie really with Kisumi...your mind went to your friend for a moment, not of the creepy things that have arisen recently, but of the memories of you both together. He would be here right now poking fun at you for being scared of these scenes, but also ‘protecting’ you from whatever was going on.

As your mind was wandering, you didn’t notice the presence next to you, not until a hand was on your thigh, fingers tapping against the supple flesh that was exposed from your pajamas. A scream erupted from your throat, but a hand clasped over your mouth, muffled cries were the only thing in the room, the noises on the television being drowned out by the thumping of your own heart. “Now (Y/N), this is the best part, hold in that scream for a minute, alright love?” His hand was still over your mouth and his free one was still trailing along your thigh. Side eyeing him, he sat there with a content smile on his face, eyes still glued on the screen. You stayed in that position for the next ten minutes until the credits were rolling.

“I loved watching these movies with you (Y/N), it was nice to be your savior when you got scared at certain scenes.” His hand uncovered your mouth, but started to stroke the soft skin down the slope of your neck getting dangerously close to the valley of your chest. “K-Kisu...how’d you get in?” Your body started to tremble as he just laughed at the fear pouring out of you at this moment. Gripping the back of your neck, Kisumi pulled you toward him, his face shoving itself into the crook of your neck as he started to place soft kisses along the slope of your neck and your collarbone. 

You felt his hot breath fan your skin as he answered your question. “Oh (Y/N), I think you already know the answer...I always tell you to lock your window.” The color drained from your face. Your window. The window that was always unlocked. It was something you didn’t think about because it was on the second floor. A place no human can reach because there were no trees, ledges, anything to help with climbing up. 

“Am I right Kisu?” A single question you needed answered. A heavy silence hung in the air as the man in question even stopped his kisses on your skin. “You’re always right (Y/N), I knew you would piece everything together, my (Y/N) is smart after all.” You could feel the sharpness of teeth scrape against the tender flesh of your neck, your breath hitching at the sensation. 

“I’ve always wanted to taste you, to know how sweet your blood is, I might get addicted to it (Y/N), but I don’t want to drain you dry...I want you around forever with me.” He laughed at the flinch in your body as he pressed his fangs a bit deeper into your neck. “You’re not ready to be changed yet either.” Sitting back up, he effortlessly pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist and anchoring you to him. “I think I’ll keep you as my personal toy until you’re ready to be changed, doesn’t my (Y/N) like the sound of that?” Fully grinning at the petrified look on your face, he showed you his sharp fangs, tongue sliding over them to add emphasis on what would happen if you disobeyed him.

--

You didn’t know what month it was, let alone the day. You just knew it’s been so long since Kisumi took you that night at your former house. After he had you in his arms, he told you what was going to happen. You got to pack what you could that night and he took you away. His home was your home now, or as he puts it, our home. 

He didn’t let you out, the house was your own personal prison and you...you were Kisumi’s personal blood bag. He didn’t want to kill you, nor turn you yet, but he had to have a taste of your blood, he tasted every other aspect of you and he knew he’d be addicted to your blood and it turns out he was.

Your skin was littered in bite marks. He would pierce your skin and take a drink from you, enough to make you dizzy before he stopped himself. He couldn’t wait for the wound to heal which is why he bites you in any available skin no matter where it is. 

He just wanted your sweet blood. Sometimes he would go overboard and will only stop if you pass out. Due to him feeding on you, you were exhausted. You turned into a shell of your former self with his constant feeding. Dark bags were under your eyes, droopy lids accompany them as well. All you wanted was rest, proper rest, but you knew you’d never get that again. 

You wouldn’t get anything you wanted again.

“(Y/N), my love, there you are.” Your head lolled to the side, Kisumi standing there with his usual smile on his face. The bed dipped down as his hands smoothed over your body, caressing any part of you he could get. He kissed your lips and made his way down to your neck. Before he could do anything, you whined out, hands weakly trying to stop him. 

“Please, not today Kisumi, I don’t think I can do it. I hurt so much, you drank too much yesterday, please give me a day to recover.” Kisumi cupped your face, thumb stroking the dark bags that decorated under your eyes. “Rest? (Y/N), we’ve been over this already sweetheart, I need to taste you everyday otherwise I might snap and we wouldn’t want that, right?” His hand clutched your face, squishing your cheeks together as you frantically shook your head not wanting to have him hurt you again.

“Good, that’s my good girl.” Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he let your face go, a breath of relief escaped you as he bared his fangs and traced them over the scarred skin before sinking into the skin of your neck, a place he hasn’t touched in a week which was plenty of time to heal in his opinion.

“Ahh, Kisu...hurts, Kisu, it hurts..” Your weak voice flooded his ears, but he paid you no mind, you always struggled when he did this, but you were his to use and abuse to his desire. You were his little toy, his precious (Y/N).

The feeling of your blood sliding down his throat was beautiful. It was like a drug to him, he couldn’t get enough of it and he knew he was breaking you, but he didn’t care. He will turn you soon and you’ll be fine, but for now he needs you to keep hanging on. The quiet moans of pain only turned him on as he sunk his fangs deeper in your soft skin. “Kisu..too much, stop, please.” Soft pounding of your hands on his back snapped him out of his trance, Unlatching himself from your neck, your head fell to the side, eyes half lidded and skin heated after the ordeal. 

Licking a stray drop of blood from his lips and the puncture wounds on your neck, he was satisfied for now. Even though he was addicted to your blood, he was excited to turn you. You would finally be his forever, just as it should’ve been. Smirking at your worn out body, he gave you one last kiss before throwing a blanket over you and stalking off to finish your turning ceremony.

[peachhcs]

Love Languages Pt. 2

Pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

Summary: Pt.2 to Luke asking you what Love Languages are

Warnings: talk of drinking and cheating but that’s it

Word Count: 1.6k

Here is part two that you all have been asking for! I deeply apologize for how long it took me to get this up, school is really kicking my butt. I have a bunch of people asking to be on my taglist and I’m currently in the works of making one so comment or reblog or something telling me you want to be on my taglist! Make sure you specifiy for my series or for small blurbs/oneshots like this or both! 

Thank you so much for the amazing feedback! I love the comments and y’all are so amazing! 

I’m not sure if this will have a part 3?? but let me know if you want one haha. I won’t be tagging anyone in this because my tags got lost in my notifications, so if you want to be tagged again, make sure you read above! :)

PART 1

* * *

You didn’t mean to avoid Luke, it just kind of happened. Junior Year was no joke and it felt like every night and every weekend you had piles of homework to get done, so you sort of drifted from going to Julie’s house everyday. She didn’t mind, she understood just as much and kept you updated on how the band was doing. However, you still felt guilty for avoiding the boys. You were worried that Luke would think he scared you away by touching you, but you were feeling the exact opposite. You wanted to explore more and find out more but here you were, in your room at 12am trying to finish this nagging essay that was due in 8 hours. 

You felt your eyelids growing heavy but you shook your head, trying to keep yourself awake. The 3 monster drinks on your nightstand said enough about how much you were trying to keep yourself awake. You had 2 paragraphs left but you knew you were at a losing battle with yourself. The way your eyes were just glazing over at this point and rereading the same sentence over and over was becoming a very evident indication that you needed sleep. Before you could even think about quitting for the night, there was a noise from the side of your room and a grunt. Your eyes quickly darted over to where the noise came from and there stood Luke with that magenta pull over that you really liked. 

“Luke?” His eyes quickly darted over to you, clearly surprised to still see you awake.

“Y/n..hey..” He started and you pushed your laptop away to give him your full attention. 

“What are you..doing here?..” You weren’t really sure why he was here and you felt a small bit of tension in the room from avoiding him for the past few weeks. 

“I uh..came to see you..” His voice was small and you pushed your eyebrows together in confusion. 

“At 12 in the morning?..” You knew ghosts didn’t really sleep but it was still a strange sight to see Luke in your bedroom this late at night. 

“Yup..” He trails off and pushes his glance down to the floor. You raised your eyebrow, knowing he wasn’t telling you the whole truth. You two were still best friends after all, so you could read him like an open book. 

“Luke, seriously. What are you doing here?” You ask trying to push an answer out of him. He finally meets your gaze again and you see his small expression on his face.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” 

You blinked a few times at his bluntness. This time you were the one to avoid his gaze. You picked at your fingernails slightly, knowing Luke was watching you and waiting for an answer. 

“I don't mean too.. School’s been tough and stuff.” You say cringing at how lame that sounded even though it was true. Luke stayed silent for a moment, trying to decide if you were lying to him or not. You avoided his eyes and kept your glance locked on the floor. 

“Did I do something wrong? Did I overstep by touching you? I didn’t mean to scare you or anything..” Luke trails off and you frown. You quickly shake your head to tell him no.

“No, no, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been really swamped with homework..” You grimace to yourself for coming back to your really lame excuse. You watch as Luke steps a little closer, testing the waters. When you don’t object to him moving closer, he takes a slow seat on your bed beside you. 

“You look tired..” He points out, gently reaching to touch your cheek. It warms both of your bodies as your skin makes contact. His hands were..warm..and comforting. You weren’t sure what you expected but it definitely wasn't this. Who knew ghosts were warm? 

“I told you I’ve been swamped with homework.” You chuckle and this time Luke chuckles along with you. He gently pulls his hand away and folds them into his lap. You stare down at your feet for a few moments trying to figure out what to say next. This felt like completely new territory the two of you were exploring and by the energy and growing tension in the room; this was a little bit scary. 

“Do you think you know..why we can..touch?” You ask hesitantly. Julie was filling you in here and there at school, but it wasn’t much and they didn’t seem to come up with anything as to why you had the “powers” too. 

“No..it’s still all confusing. We think Julie’s mom has something to do with us being connected to Julie but we don’t know about you.” Luke says, side eyeing you and you weren’t sure if that was a hint for you to talk about your past or not.  

You didn’t really open up about your past. No one had ever really asked so you never really talked. Julie knew a little bit, she knew that your mom and dad fought a lot and you didn’t like being at home that much, but that was about it. You didn’t talk about it further than that, so when you could feel Luke trying to dig into your past more, you shrugged. 

“My parents don’t talk much about stuff. I don’t know.” You say, keeping it short and simple. Luke frowns a little at your answer, but he knows not to push so he doesn’t. The two of you sit in more silence beside one another. You picked at your finger nails while Luke’s eyes travelled around your room. 

“I ran out on my mom. She didn’t believe in my dream and though dropping out of high school was the worst possible idea. We got into a fight and I ran out. That was the last time I saw her face to face. I died before I could make amends with her.” You glance at Luke, surprised at his openness. Even though you guys were best friends, talking about stuff like this was kind of off limits. The memory hurt too much so you never talked about at home, parent problems. 

“Wow..I’m sorry. That must have been hard on both of you.” You admit and Luke nods.

“It was, but Julie helped me make amends with them last year.” Luke smiles a little and you smile too. You knew his little story was a play to get you to start talking so you took in a little breath. 

“My dad cheated on my mom a few years ago with..a few other women. My mom keeps trying to make excuses for him to keep him around. They fight a lot because my dad doesn’t want to stay but my mom keeps pushing it. They’re both pretty heavy drinkers, too. It’s not a very good mix.” You explain. It felt weird to say it out loud, but it also felt nice to talk about it with someone.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I can’t imagine how difficult that is.” Luke empathizes but you only shrug. 

“It’s a good thing Julie let’s me come over so much. She’s been there for me for it all and I really love her for that.” You say, smiling at the thought of Julie’s friendship. You really couldn’t ask for a better best friend to get through it all. 

“Yeah, Julie’s really great. She does it all.” Luke laughs and you nod in agreement. More silence fills in between you two but it was comfortable silence. This time you lean your head on Luke’s shoulder and he pulls his arm around you to bring you closer. You could feel the tension slowly fading away. Sometimes all it took was one meaningful conversation to break the barrier. 

“Oh yeah, I saw these on my way over here and I thought you might like them.” Luke smiles and you watch as he digs into his pocket before pulling out a small bouquet of those pretty Aster flowers. You sit up a little, instantly recognizing them. They were your grandma’s favorite before she passed away when you were little. 

“Asters?” You ask and Luke glances at you a little surprised.

“Is that what they’re called? They’re really pretty.” Luke smiles and hands them to you. You smile, smelling them and instantly getting that fresh scent of your grandma’s house. 

“They are very pretty. Thank you.” You smile warmly and Luke smiles again. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome. They just reminded me of you.” Luke says and you chuckle. That was something your grandma had said to you a lot. 

“You should probably get going. It’s getting late and the boys are probably wondering where you are.” You chuckle, glancing at how much later it had gotten and you still had to wake up for school the next morning. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see you at Julie’s tomorrow?” Luke stands up and sends you a hopeful glance. You chuckle and nod a yes. 

“Yeah, see you there, Patterson.” Luke smiles at your response. You watch as he hesitates to leave for a moment and you’re about to question him when in one quick motion he plants a kiss on your cheek before poofing out. 

You sit there, a little stunned, before allowing a small blush to creep its way onto your cheeks. You got up to put your flowers in your little vase on your desk. It added a nice touch to your room. If Luke hadn’t come in to make you more alert, you would have missed it. On your desk by the vase was a small piece of paper with writing on it. Upon examining it further, it was one of the last notes your grandma had written to you before she passed away. You thought you had lost that somewhere in your numerous papers, but there it was, front and center on your desk. 

I will be with you, today, tomorrow, and forever. You just have to look for the signs - Grandma