#I do not think he’d be able to tell she’s putting on an act sorry I don’t. even if they had a real 1 on 1 conversation.

[ssruis]

always funny to me how active tsukasa is in every one of mafuyus birthdays (he says menu lines, he gets lines in the bday card) and they has like never had a meaningful conversation. he’s just like “ah rui and emus friend. must celebrate birthday” like bro you barely know her. rui and emu have both had like serious conversations with her and are in the list of people who can tell something is up and Are Quite Concerned meanwhile tsukasa doesn’t know this woman and is like “HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASAHINA 🥳 🥳 🥳 🎉 🎉 “

It is so funny. In pandemonium he couldn’t even remember her name. rui had to remind him.

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[ma1dita]

BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖

🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x reader

a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗

wc: 1.1k

—

It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.

Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).

It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.

He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!

You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.

“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”

“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him? 

Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.

Wrong.

Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.

Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you. 

He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.

You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.

“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”

Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.

“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.

“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.

“I….like it when you do.”

You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.

You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite. 

For once they were wrong about love. 

Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.

[artdcnaldson]

ARARARRARARARRARA

HIS RACKET

stop. ✋. i am unable to control and contain myself. i need mean mean mean art to fuck pats sister with his racket after losing a match because she was distracting him. she was constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs, short short skirt, flashing him her pretty panties. need him to taunt her and tell her how his racket barely fits in her tiny little virgin pussy :(((( but stuff her full of it anyway :((((( he really is doing anything to keep himself from putting his cock in her :(((( i need him i feel sick and horny. it's now his favorite racket and his lucky charm i'm dying

-🐞

RAHHHHHHHHH

Like god. Just thinking of you showing up to one of his matches in a little denim miniskirt and one of his Stanford tennis shirts you stole <3 you look so sweet, you cheer the loudest every time he manages to get a point.

He usually wouldn’t be able to see you very well from down on the court, but, god, you’re front row and he can see the flash of white panties beneath your skirt, the bounce of your tits when you excitedly cheer. And maybe you were earnestly cheering for him, you didn’t even realize what you were doing, but that brainless look you give him when he confronts you after the match just frustrates him even more.

“I’m sorry you lost, Art,” you say as you follow him inside his dorm like a lost puppy. The fact that he didn’t stop you was exciting, like maybe he as going to break finally, that he saw how much you cared. “But you looked so great out there. You should’ve won. I think the line judges totally fucked you ov—“

He has you pinned against the door and you go quiet. “I would’ve won,” he says firmly. “If you hadn’t been flashing your panties like a fucking groupie.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh… I didn’t mean to.” Which was a lie. Of course it fucking was.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes you fucking did. You’d do anything if it meant you’d have something filling your pussy.”

Something flashes in your eyes. Excitement? Shock?

His hand moves between your thighs, feeling the damp spot on your panties. “How long have you been wet?”

A shaky breath escapes you as his fingers press against the seam of your pussy, avoiding your clit with each pass. “Art—“ you whine, embarrassment dripping from your tone.

Why should you be embarrassed, though? You were the one slutting yourself out for his attention, weren’t you? Flashing your panties, throwing yourself at him at any chance. He’d done much worse to you, touched you in ways that were unforgivable. At least, they would be to Patrick.

It’s infuriating, that you have the audacity to act like some demure fucking virgin. Like you haven’t fucked yourself on his bed, haven’t gotten off to him degrading you and cumming down your throat.

But you don’t even have to answer. He knows that you’ve been soaked since the second you sat down in the stands, that your little body has been absolutely thrumming with need and want. That you’d dressed that way with the intentions of getting him so riled up he’d need to take it out on you.

And he would. He’d give you something to stuff you full, keep you satisfied.

“Lay down,” he says, and you obey so easily. You settle on top of his bed, chest heaving with anticipation. He slips your panties down your legs, he can practically smell your need. He wants to just bury his face between your thighs, lick at your core until your taste is all he knows. Make you cum again and again and again until your clit feels numb and you beg for him to stop. “You want me to fill you up, hm?”

You nod, irises practically swallowed by your lust-blown pupils. “Mhmm. Please, Art.”

A smile spreads across his lips. “Yeah? And you’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

You nod, almost frantic. “Yes, anything.”

He wants to save the image of your expression in his memory forever. Your wide eyes, the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip. As he grabs a racket from his bag. It’s new, the handle freshly wrapped. You let out a soft noise, involuntary as you look at it. “Art—“

He tosses the racket a few times in his hand. “I thought you said anything?”

You make a face. “I don’t think it’ll fit. I’m a v—“

“A virgin,” he finishes for you, dripping condescension. “Sure, but I know your fingers aren’t cutting it when you fuck yourself. What do you use, huh? Did you and your little friends buy pink sparkly dildos at the mall?”

Your face burns and you look away. It’s too specific of a description, and you know he knows. That he’d snooped one of the times that he had to carry you back to your dorm and found your stash of toys and the fucking spank bank under your bed. Which was mortifying in and of itself— you had fucking clip outs of him from the campus newspaper and posters of the Men’s tennis team in there. You hated that he knew just how obsessed you were with him.

“It’ll fit,” he says. “I’ll even warm you up first. I’ll give you my fingers. I’m not that mean.”

Your tongue darts out, wets those pretty lips of yours. And you nod.

His finger slides in so easily that he almost moans. You’re so warm, so tight around him, slick and obscenely wet. One finger and you’re reduced to mewls and whines. Little pants of yes, so good, thank you, art art art.

Your body accommodates him so easy, opening up like a flower for him. A second finger plunges inside your cunt and your juices drip down his fingers, down your ass. You’re wetter than anyone he’s been with before. It’s not just that you’re a virgin— he’d fucked virgins before— it’s that you’re so fucking obsessed with him.

“You really are tight,” his voice comes out a little shaky, affected. How could it not when he has three fingers knuckle deep in your sweet, virgin pussy? When your walls clench and flutter around the intrusion, when you get wetter and wetter so his fingers squelch with each thrust in? “I don’t know if it’ll fit. But we’re gonna try, aren’t we?”

Yes, Yes, Yes. The response falls from your lips like prayer, like worship.

He waits until you’re all pliant and relaxed beneath him, moaning prettily. When your pussy feels supple and opens like it needs to take more. He grabs the racket and he almost backs out, almost stops himself, but you look at him with hunger and want. You need to impress him so badly— to accept whatever he gives him.

There’s a first time for everything. He tries his best to slick up the handle with lube, not that you’re lacking in that department. He watches your cunt pulse, your hole clenching as he practically jacks off the tennis racket. Oh, you want it so bad.

“Hold your legs up,” he instructs. You’re chewing on your lip as you do, tucking your hands beneath your knees, leaving your cunt exposed and glistening in the shitty light of his dorm room. “Relax. You wanted it, so lay there and take it.”

He presses the handle against your cunt, listens to the slightest intake of breath as it breaches your tight entrance, as your body stretches to accommodate it. It’s a stretch, god, it’s obscene. Your tiny little pussy wrapped around the handle like it’s a dick.

“Ah, f-fuck—“ You’re whimpering, crying for it, little feet kicking as he presses it in deeper. “Big— it’s big.”

He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, and you’ve pushed that limit many times before. He’s fantasized about it before, the idea of it. Of some faceless, nameless woman lying all spread out beneath him, crying out with pornstar moans while he fucks her with the handle of his racket after a game.

He blamed Patrick for that one. For planting that seed.

But now he has you. Lying beneath him with your face screwed up in pleasure, your mouth ajar as he pushes it deeper, deeper, deeper. “Tell me how it feels,” he goads once it’s fully sheathed inside of you.

It takes a moment for the question to register— he sees it in the lazy blink in your eyes, how they’re glassy when they meet his.

“Mmm… so— so full,” you moan. Your expression is akin to disappointment as he slowly withdraws the racket, only to push it back in. Your eyes roll back, toes curl and flex.

“You don’t feel gross? No shame at all?” He asks.

You should. You definitely should, but right then you can’t find it in yourself to. You shake your head. “I just— nghh— just want whatever you give me.”

God. You shouldn’t tell him that, shouldn’t willingly hand over that much power. His head swims with it.

“No fucking self respect” he mutters. “Jesus Christ. Such a fucking slut.”

But that just encourages you. “Just your slut, Art, all yours.”

God, you’re so fucking wet, dripping down to your asshole, down onto the sheets. He figures he could make you squirt, that you’d let him play with your pussy until you gushed like a fountain. He could probably do anything he wanted and you’d take it with a smile.

“You need t’ cum?”

You nod quickly, moaning. “Fuck— yeah, so bad, Art, so fucking bad.” Your cunt squeezes around the handle of the racket, like your body is trying to suck it deeper. “Touch me— touch me, I need—“

He knows what you need. And he shouldn’t. But what the fuck is he holding back for at this point? He moves his free hand to your clit, rubs in firm circles as he shallowly thrusts the racket.

The cries that escape you are like music to him, so delicious, so fucking debauched. Your feet kick pathetically, your back arches off the bed. It’s almost adorable.

“You have ten seconds before I stop,” he warns. You cry weakly, grind your hips up against the handle as he fucks you with it. He counts aloud, watches the way your breath heaves as you get closer. He can practically feel your racing heartbeat in your clit.

“C-cumming, cumming—“ you whine. He’s at two— your body is right on the edge, you want it so bad.

“Come on, give it to me,” his voice is low, rough with need. He meets your gaze, and he grins at how wrecked you are, how pathetic he can make you.

You cum just like that, leave a ring of cream at the top of the handle as he fucks you through it. He reduces you into weak moans, makes you go limp beneath him.

When he eases the handle out, he marvels at the sight of your pussy, smeared with arousal, swollen and open for him. He rubs his thumb against your clit and he watches your hole twitch for him, still wanting anything you can give.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. He should have taken a picture.

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Extra

Consistent Comfort

Summary: Before the explosion, before that fateful night that changed everything, you were able to let your guard down more. Often times on top of a rooftop with the consistent comfort from the steady presence of Claggor.

Today had been. . . a day.

Why wouldn’t she just listen to you? Did she have to be so hardheaded? It wasn’t like you were being unreasonable. You were being completely reasonable.

She couldn’t just run head on into every situation and expect to always come out on top. She was being stupid.

The wind whipped through your hair like your anger did through your body.

You rested your arm on your knee and your head on your hand. The night was dark and cold. But up here, beneath the smog that covered the stars you’d heard of, you could at least breathe.

Footsteps sounded beneath you, heavy and slow. The door to the roof creaked open. The footsteps joined you on the rooftop.

Something was wrapped around you. You looked down and saw a blanket. You felt the weight of a body join you.

“Thanks, Claggor,” you said.

“I brought you this. You looked like you might need it,” he said as he extended a bottle to you.

You huffed a half amused laugh as you took it. “Sneak it from Vander?”

“No, he gave it to me,” he told you.

Oh, so it was obvious you were pissed then. Good. You’d intended for it to be.

Sometimes you thanked Vander. Sometimes you cursed him.

He was like a father to the girls and Mylo and Claggor. You appreciated that, even if to you he’d always be just your uncle. However, being both your uncle and their dad brought challenges.

Sometimes he would step in when he didn’t need to. Sometimes he wouldn’t when it was needed.

Right now you didn’t know what was best.

If he stepped in, maybe Violet would take your warnings seriously. Not only was it her annoying, kill joy older sister telling her to back down but also her dad.

On the other hand, it could undermine you. She might not ever listen to your advice if he always had to come in and put his foot down.

“You know I’m not just trying to stop you from having fun, right?”

“I know.”

“What she does is reckless. She doesn’t think before she acts. She just goes in with her fists and expects everything to be okay. One day it won’t be.”

“You’re right.”

“She got herself hurt. She could have gotten all of you hurt. All of you hurt. What happens then? It’ll be too late to listen to me.”

“It will.”

“Why can’t she just see that all I’m trying to do is keep you guys safe?” you asked, tears starting to form in your eyes. From frustration? Maybe. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“I know.”

You pried off the bottle cap with a jerk and downed a large swig. You coughed at the burn that went down your throat but immediately tilted your head back for another.

The bottle hang loosely between your fingertips.

“I’m sorry for unloading this all onto you—“

“Don’t be.”

“—You don’t need to be in the middle of this.”

Claggor placed his hand on top of yours. “Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes flickered over to him. You were so sure that you must look pathetic.

“This will pass over. She knows that all you care about is everyone’s safety. She just doesn’t want to admit it. You know she hates being bossed around,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if it’s from you or Vander.”

You sighed. He was right.

You placed the bottle beside you. It clicked softly against the rock of the roof.

You shrugged the blanket across your shoulders. The left over fabric pooled against the roofing. You pulled it across Claggor.

“I’m sure you’re cold,” you said.

You leaned your head against his shoulder as you scooted closer. Your arm looped around his own. His hand wrapped around your own.

He was warm against the harsh winds. He was steady. He always had been. Warm and steady and strong, a nice consistency and comfort in the Undercity.

With his presence, you felt your body begin to rest. The tingling warmth of the drink you’d been sipping on only furthered the droop to your eyes.

Your cheek smooshed against his shoulder as your eyes began to close. The drink that had been in your hand fell between your legs and then rolled. It smashed against the ground but within all the sounds of the Undercity, it wasn’t enough to startle you.

Claggor looked at you. You would have looked peaceful if it weren’t for the slight draw of your brows and the tear that was beginning to follow curl of your chin. He brought his thumb up and brushed it away.

He picked you up. One arm supporting your back and the other beneath your knees. He’d left the door slightly ajar, anticipating this to be the outcome. It normally was, whether you came up here due to a fight or not.

He softly knocked the door closed with his foot. Down the stairs he went with you bundled up in his arms.

Claggor didn’t miss the opportunity when his eyes met VI’s to give her a stern look. He normally didn’t. He normally stayed out of it but you’d been up there since your shift at the bar had ended. You didn’t even come down for food that night.

Vi’s head snapped in the other direction, her arms crossed with a pout.

What more could he do?

Down to the beds, he laid you down gently. He pulled the blanket all the way up to cover your shoulders and toes.

He took a moment to brush your hair out of your face, some of it having stuck to your lip. You leaned closer, nuzzling your red tipped nose against his hand. He smiled to himself. He let himself linger for a moment.

Then he removed his hand and dimmed the light from the oil lamp. The door closed with a soft click.

[kazuhahalol]

▹ Jeff the Killer Headcanons

Basic NSFW & SFW headcanons of my favorite creep! I’m so sorry I’ve been out for so long, I’ll try to post more!

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, nsfw content

Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!

Appearance

⇀ I will not lie and say I grew up seeing Jeff as an accurate representation of what a burn victim would look like. I grew up with the skinny anime looking boy that most of us know as “Jeff the Killer”. Here are a few ways that I see Jeff different than how I used to see him when I was younger.

⇀ I honestly see him standing at around 5’7-5’9. I don’t expect him to be super tall like LJ, but not super short like BEN.

⇀ His skin is less of a white pigment and more pink since his skin has been burnt off and exposed. His skin has healed over time, making it look more like shitty patchwork over what a good recovery should look like.

⇀ I doubt he’d have hair but for the sake of fan service, if he did, it would probably be greasy. If he’s not living at the Wisconsin Sanctum for Wayward Boys (slendermansion) he’s not able to shower so he’d look dirty. No shower = no washing hair = greasy hair, scalp buildup and hair loss. In reality, Jeff would looked chopped AF.

⇀ His style hasn’t changed much from when he was 13. White hoodie and his black dress pants. He wears what’s practical and what he can get his hands on. If he did take the time to actually find clothing he approves of, I’d see him mostly being into something edgy.

⇀ Would have piercings but it would hurt like a bitch because his skin and tissues didn’t heal normally. He doesn’t mind because he likes the pain.

⇀ His glasgow smile heals overtime and he doesn’t mind it, but will occasionally carve it back open if he feels like it since it’s his signature look.

Personality

⇀ Edgelord.

⇀ People may say this is overdone, but I also see him as an arrogant asshole. There’s just something about him that screams, “I have a big ego and I’m going to make it everyone’s problem”.

⇀ Gets really pissed off when you call him his government or first name, “Jeffrey”, “Jeffrey Alan Woods”. He would tell you to shut the fuck up and to never say it again.

⇀ His sense of humor is twisted AF. He could be chatting with you and he’s suddenly bringing up how he tortured this poor school girl he kidnapped a few days ago and how much she was screaming, then laughs about it obnoxiously. The topic of the conversation was strawberries.

⇀ Doesn’t matter if it’s a person, place, or thing, Jeff is going to be obsessed with it if it catches his attention because he can’t like something like a normal person. One night he had ran into a girl that had managed to escape him, so he decided to stalk her to entertain himself, and now she’s all you hear about. “I can’t wait to sink my blade into her throat”, “I can’t wait to kill that fucking bitch. She kicked me in the balls”.

⇀ Has street smarts but is really dumb academically because he went crazy during 7th grade. He also mainly works off of impulse and never thinks before he speaks. All bite and bark.

⇀ Has a big ego. He’s obsessed with his own appearance and it’s hard for him to find anyone he deems attractive because his ideal type is basically himself.

⇀ Being completely serious, his type would be someone feisty and strong. Someone who can put up with his shit. He doesn’t like timid people or pushovers. He likes it even more if they can come up with run-on insults on the fly. He might save one of those for later.

⇀ Thick thighs, boobs > ass

Relationships

⇀ He’s toxic as hell and don’t even think for a second he’s not.

⇀ Gaslighter and manipulator.

⇀ Would never outright say that he “loves you”. His love language is acts of service, so he’d do small things for you like pick up something from one of his kills that reminded him of you and leave it at your door. He’d never willingly show the affection he has for you.

⇀ While we’re on that topic, he can be quite…different when it comes to romantic gestures. Gift giving was one thing, but he might even go the extra mile by carving your name into his own skin or random objects.

⇀ If you’re one of the creeps, he’d most likely loathe you at first but become attracted to your power. If you’re a normal person, he might’ve found interest for you while he was out on one of his kills and stalked you enough to feel something for you.

⇀ He is extremely obsessive and protective, often “marking you” so none of the other creeps lay a hand on you if you’re also a proxy living in the mansion. If you’re a normal person, he’s often stalking you. If he witnesses you getting bullied or harassed, the attacker ends up dead later that night.

⇀ Gets very jealous very easily. Be careful with him because it can get really ugly.

⇀ Platonic or romantic, everyone has to be careful around him. Jeff can go from being chill to being hotheaded in only a few seconds. Arguments often happen because of his low patience, leading to wavering trust and security in the relationship.

NSFW Beyond this point

⇀ Doesn’t usually call you pet names, but when he does it’s usually “Babe”, “Doll”, “Sweet Cheeks”, “My Girl”, “My Bitch”. (Girls, if your man is calling you “his bitch”, leave him immediately!!!)

⇀ Very rough in bed. He doesn’t hold back when it comes to marking you, leaving any spot untouched bruised and covered with hickeys.

⇀ His kinks are rather…questionable. You guessed he’d be into bondage, choking, and role play, but you weren’t expecting him to hold a gun or knife to your head or throat mid blowjob. He thrives on seeing your scared and confused expression while you suck him off.

⇀ Doesn’t care for aftercare. He cleans you up with a towel then slumps for the rest of the night. He could blow your back out, have you screaming all night then leave you shivering on the side of the bed with no blanket, snoring obnoxiously.

⇀ Before he met you, he would usually find one lucky girl whenever he’s in the mood to fuck. He wouldn’t force her, obviously. He’s a killer, not a monster. He would then leave without another trace, not caring enough to go back to her. It depends whether or not he’s in a good mood if he’ll kill her right after or spare her. He’s probably gotten someone pregnant and is unknowingly a deadbeat dad.

⇀ Six inches is all I’m going to say.

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part 11

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of violence

Word Count: 3159

A/N: I know it's been 6 months, but I'm just getting back to a place where I'm able to write this story! I'm sorry this took so long <3 thank you to @whisperingmidnights for your help with this part

series masterlist

“Your plan is to piss them off?” Fenrys looked at you like he prayed you were joking. 

“It’s not my whole plan.” 

“But it’s part of it?” 

“Figure out how desperate they are, and I can get a good gauge on how dangerous or useful the object is.” 

“Don’t underestimate their intelligence,” Fenrys cautioned. 

Rowan wanted to snarl at the male, he might as well have agreed this was the best plan. It was a good plan, he could admit that, there was only one pitfall - a very big one. It puts you in harm's way. No, it makes you even more of a target than you already are.

“What if it backfires?” Aelin asked, and Rowan both admired and was incensed by how calm she seemed. “What if others become suspicious, start asking around, and end up wanting the same thing they do?” 

“There’s always a risk,” you chewed on your bottom lip. He was about to open his mouth, to say ‘exactly’ or, ‘it’s too great of a risk,’ when you turned your gaze on Fenrys, then Aelin, then him. 

“From a strategic standpoint … if it weren’t me -” 

“It is you,” Aelin interrupted, but you continued as if she hadn’t said a word. 

“What would you say? What if the potential knowledge we’d gain is of great risk to Terrasen? Aren’t we better off knowing?” 

“It’s not much of a question if you put it like that,” Fenrys muttered. He didn’t look particularly happy about it, but Rowan knew he agreed. 

He turned to Aelin. ‘What do you think?’ his eyes asked.

“She’s right.”

Gods. He knew he would, if it wasn’t you, if it was nearly anyone else he’d task them with figuring it out. 

“We know a few Akkadian males are searching for some kind of artifact or weapon,” Fenrys started, ticking things off on his fingers, “and that it’s possible they are working independently, that they want to keep this secret. We know they have … dangerous knowledge of your past, and they’re connected with some kind of underworld.” 

There’s no real other way they’d know Andal - a male he’d like to kill one day, if only for the fear and pain in your eyes when his name was said. 

Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose. “We see if it draws some kind of reaction, see if anyone else is surprised, if he’s really acting personally or if he’s a scapegoat.” 

He prepared himself to protest, but your past words ‘don’t coddle me,’ echoed in his mind. With your characteristic stubborn tenacity, you’d already set your mind to this. At least you were letting him help, at least he could do something to help keep you safe. Rowan latched onto that mentally, onto the small consolation he got. 

“We need to ensure your safety,”  he emphasized, sending you a challenging look. Rowan knew this wouldn't be as desired if they didn’t all go in on it together. Sure, you could do something similar on your own, but he knew you well enough to tell when you didn’t quite want to. When you wanted help, even if your stubborn pride kept you from agreeing to or asking for it. “You won’t -,” Rowan paused and correctly himself, “don’t need to do this alone. Anymore.” 

You agreed, and the planning began. 

-

After two long hours of hashing out every detail, reviewing and reciting them until Rowan was satisfied, Fenrys and Aelin looked ready to explode. You found some comfort in it, but even you were tiring. 

When Rowan and Aelin locked in on one of their silent conversations, you turned to Fenrys, angled so they couldn’t see your face, and mouthed “leave.” 

He winked, and made a poor excuse for a departure, but they didn’t seem to care. 

There was an impending sense of doom, perhaps your mind playing tricks on you, but you couldn’t help feeling like something - maybe everything - would go wrong, no matter how much planning you put into it. 

The Queen and King stood as well, murmuring ‘goodnights,’ before you could say anything. Fuck. 

Your ill-thought out plan had not included that. 

Aelin stopped at the door, hand on the brass knob, Rowan a few steps outside, paused as well. Golden hair fell like a curtain over her shoulder, her head turning  as you slowly stood, teeth digging into your bottom lip. 

Time slowed, her eyes tracked the movement, darkening when they reached your mouth, teeth digging into soft flesh, perhaps imagining them digging in somewhere else. You certainly where. Step by step, you crossed the room towards her. Your footsteps sounded obnoxiously loud, thundering almost as loud as your heart. She turned fully to face you, hand letting go of the door. 

Less than a foot away, you stopped. Eyes glimmering, she tilted her head - daring you. 

This time, you didn’t back down. Hands reached, cupping her palms - still she waited. You could see how the patience cost her, a small curve of your lips and she nearly snarled, but you cut off the words forming, pushing forward to close the gap. 

Soft lips, slow movements, hands wandering, grazing over shoulder, down sides, settling on hips - moving all over as if you couldn’t wait to memorize. 

A low whistle from the hallway - who, you didn’t care, but heard Rowan’s snarl as a response. Aelin’s arm wound around your waist, drawing you closer, shifting your attention back to her. 

You felt Ceri’s magic, likely just down the hall, and stumbled back. 

Hurt flashed over Aelin’s face, through her eyes, mouth parting in dismay. 

“Ceri,” you hissed, “and company,” you added as an afterthought.

The hurt faded, replaced by a smile and a knowing nod as she stepped out of the doorway. 

“Tomorrow,” she said, the word a promise and a plea. You nodded, but couldn’t shake the sense that tomorrow might not come. You cursed yourself for thinking so negatively, for winding yourself up into a state of gloom. Things would work. They had too. There was too much at stake, and too much to lose. 

Four sets of shuffling footsteps - Ceri accompanied by the little … gang, to say the least. The three E’s, Edde, Edie and Elias.

Ceri burst through the door, her friends trailing more cautiously behind her. 

“They can spend the night, right?” 

“I don’t think that’s how you ask a question,” Rowan said dryly. 

You fixed her with a sharp look before she could roll her eyes. 

“We- we can go,” Elias said, voice barely carrying. He’d always been the most cautious of the three 

You opened your mouth, already ready to agree, seeing the sharp look Rowan fixed her with out of your peripheral, but Ceri cut in first - 

“Please, can we spend the night here?”

“Yes,” you laughed and waved them back towards their rooms, shooting a kind smile towards her three friends. In all honesty, you were surprised she asked, but figured she only did it because Rowan and Aelin were also present. 

-

“You might as well adopt the three of them,” Aelin commented. She’d meant it half as a joke, but saw how your eyes brightened. 

“Maybe when this is all over.” There was a distant look in your eyes, accompanied by the slightest upward tilt of your lips. Not the distant gaze of someone in pain, but someone thinking forward, thinking of the future. 

‘Maybe’ might as well be a yes, considering your expression - and if the three of them agreed, of course, but she couldn’t see them declining it.

Aelin didn’t know how anyone could turn you down, not with your pretty eyes or -

Rowan coughed next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Not pleased with looking away from you, she managed to turn her attention to him. 

“Going to stare all night?” He asked silently. 

Aelin didn’t dignify that with a response, instead let her eyes flash briefly to your lips, before murmuring goodnight’s to all of the room’s occupants, noticing the flush on your cheeks as you tracked her gaze. 

Aelin was out the door as Rowan gave his own goodnight’s, and she already knew that once they were back in their rooms he’d gripe that she happened to be the one closer to you. 

Two fingers touched her lips, her back pressed against the stone, mind wandering - wondering when she’d get to kiss you again -

You appeared in the open doorway, eyes wide with panic, head snapping back and forth - had your magic told you something? 

Aelin realized she trusted you implicitly as you tugged her back inside, slamming the door behind her. 

“Aelin and Rowan decided to stay a little longer,” you yelled - a course of acknowledgements coming from further down the hall, already in one of the rooms. 

“He’s - they’re both down a hall or so,” you were blinking rapidly, your breaths obviously intentional. And you didn’t need to clarify who ‘he’ was. For your sake, Aelin forced a tight, tight lid on her anger - and saw Rowan do the same. 

She felt Rowan’s wind sweep past her - buffering against your shield, she felt it as a small crack opened for him - letting his wind slide into the hallway, likely clearing all traces of their scents, along with Ceri and her little gang’s away. When had she become so attuned to your magic?

She heard him as he crossed closer - pausing a few feet away from the door - before continuing on, making it to the end of the hall before he backtracked. 

“I redirected our scents, not erased them,” Rowan murmured quietly - although your magic would block any noise from escaping.

“So he knows where,” you said aloud, arms wrapping around yourself. 

Rowan moved quicker than she could, his arms laid gently over your shoulders, almost hesitantly. When you didn’t flinch, when you leaned into him instead, he tugged you closer, brought your chest to rest against his, other arm wrapping around, fingers running through your hair. 

Aelin saw when you let your beautiful mind stop running, your face tilting, cheek pressed against him, arms coming around his waist. The moment when you relaxed, and let Rowan give you comfort like a lover would. 

-

Another familiar, but friendly scent tricked through the door. Fenrys. He was both grateful and annoyed with his timing. 

“You can let him in,” you sighed. Rowan tightened his arms around you, afraid the moment might leave before he truly got the chance to enjoy it. “And you can let me go,” you whispered. Aelin was by the door now, her hand perched right above the knob. 

“I’d rather not,” he muttered, but stepped back anyway. 

Maybe the day had been too long, and likely he was reading into things but he saw a flash of disappointment on your face. 

Regardless, he’d stepped back just in time - the door swung open, revealing Fenrys - looking unusually grave. 

“I didn’t interact,” his tone indicated he would’ve liked to, very much so, and the words proved Rowan’s inkling from earlier - the wolf hadn’t gone far at all, and having known the male for decades, he wouldn’t for the rest of the night. 

-

Laying back in bed, staring at a ceiling he’d memorized hours ago, Rowan rifled through his memories. 

Maeve had a vague interest in acquiring the types of objects made by your family, but the makers were, as far as she knew, always in Antica. Unattainable. To Maeve, the individual objects wouldn’t have been worth hunting down, not when she could acquire a source. He wondered if one day, if Aelin hadn’t come in and drastically changed his - all of their lives, he or one of the others would’ve received an order to find you or a member of your family. 

Somehow, thankfully, she had no idea your mother made her way into Wendlyn. He figured yours or her magic must’ve kept you hidden, that made him wonder how they’d found you.

It was obvious, he realized with the barest tinge of guilt. Your position in Aelin’s court would undeniably bring attention to you. Expose your abilities and bloodline in a way you’d avoided for so long. That brought the question of why you had accepted, considering it’s you, you knew the risks - hence why he felt the barest tinge of guilt. Maybe, after so long, you were sick of hiding. It wasn’t any use debating, rash decisions were uncommon for you, and rarely did you tell him exactly why you made the choices you did. A bit like Aelin, but not in a good way, but unlike Aelin if he asked you he’d usually get a straight answer. Usually. 

Nothing from his past campaigns with the Akkadians, past experience with the two Fae currently stirring too much trouble, gave guidance on how tomorrow could play out. 

The plan. One he’d made them go over countless times until everyone in the room looked like they wanted to kill him, that’s when he knew to call it quits, if you stuck to it then maybe things would work out. Too big of a maybe for him, but there was no other choice at this point. 

“Try to sleep,” Aelin murmured sleepily, he heard sheets rustling and felt her head rest on his chest, hand sliding over his stomach to rest just below his ribs. 

“We’ll see,” he kept his voice low, and traced circles into her back, the bare skin warm and smooth under his calloused fingers. Her breaths were even, and she’d already fallen back asleep. 

Rowan closed his eyes, and figured he could at least try and follow his Queen’s suggestion. 

-

Fenrys tried for his usual jovial manner in the morning, but it was obvious he was on edge over breakfast. You waited to call him out until after Ceri and her friends had left, accompanied by guards.

“At least pretend everything is normal,” you pushed your food around on your plate, “or you’ll tip them off and ruin our big plan.” 

The second half was laced with some sarcasm, in hopes to placate both you and him. He snorted, but none of the tension left his body, if anything it seemed to increase. That was a failure. Hopefully the rest of the plan would work out - even with the sense of doom still hovering over you like a storm cloud.

Finally letting the spoon clatter to the plate, your hand went up to trace your scar, thumb running over the still raised skin. It shot back down as you saw Fenrys tracking the movement. Most days, you hardly noticed it, but the habit reemerged once in a while. 

You glanced at the clock. Another part of the plan. Maybe you should’ve come up with a more interesting name for it. You brought it up to Fenrys. 

He let out an edged chuckle, “operation don’t cause another international incident?”

“Technically,” you tapped one finger against the table. “They started the incident.”

The statement did feel a tad childish, but in a good way, a way that lightened some of the invisible pressure pushing your shoulders down. 

“So you admit there already is one,” some of the tension had actually left his shoulder and a small sense of accomplishment filled you, but you just shrugged. 

“Operation mitigating international incident.” 

“OMII isn’t a worthy enough acronym.” 

Fenrys’s eyes lit up at the last word. Acronym. 

After taking the time to come up with your name, the two of you were nearly late - having to cut through a secret passage to make it on time. 

O.S.H.I.T. 

Successfully hinder international tactless-assholes. Hyphenated because according to the two of you, “O.S.H.I.T.A” doesn’t have the same ring. You’d also agreed to only inform their Majesties of the moniker if the plan was successful. 

“Why do I feel like you two were up to no good?” Aelin leaned over, no more than a queen consulting one of her advisors, whispering to you. 

“We would never intend to cause trouble, your majesty.” 

A very un-royal like curse came from her lips, thankfully just loud enough for you to hear, and you fought back a smile. Fenrys winked at you from across the room. 

-

Sun warmed your skin, the temperature absolutely perfect for an early summer mid-morning. They’d requested you stay in the castle until all parties had departed. But, there was no reason you couldn’t wander around some of the gardens. Fresh air was good for you, and you felt like you’d spent far too much time in a stuffy castle recently. You ached to get back to your home, considering everything went fine, hopefully that would be sooner rather than later. Not that you need permission, you reminded yourself. 

You had to fight to keep a big grin off your face. All of the worrying, all of the stress and pressure felt worth it now that you were on the other side. 

Yes, their eyes had flashed with anger when you ‘responded to the inquiries,’ publicly and slid them a handful of notes, drawing curious eyes from their companions. It had been a relatively simple plan, but you’d spent hours rehearsing answers to every feasible and not-so-feasible reaction, making it feel much more complex than it should’ve. But they’d departed that same night, and with them left a weight off your chest. 

At least, that’s what you thought before the cool flat side of a blade pressed against your neck, angled so the slightest wrong movement would have you bleeding out on the floor - dead within a minute, something clamped around your wrist - iron, and your magic winked, reduced down to a mere puddle. Some, but not nearly enough to get you out of this. 

“Don’t move,” a voice snarled in your ear, breath warming your neck. You didn’t dare swallow, didn’t dare attempt to form any words. It wasn’t them. Not the two Akkadian’s who’d been haunting you for the last week. Who had they sent? How many others were involved?

Despite your efforts to clear your mind and focus on the current … situation, names kept whirling in your head, making it near impossible. 

Ceri. Rowan. Aelin. Fenrys. Edde, Edie, and Elias. Reya. Ani. Ines. 

‘Safe,’ a familiar and wise female voice murmured in your ear, ‘they are all safe.’  Your chest loosened a fraction. Your mind reeled through every defensive maneuver you knew, and none of them would guarantee to get you out of this alive.

You froze as his hand slid around your front, you couldn’t glance down to see, did you want to see? But … just the briefest pressure of something sliding into your pocket, a crinkle of paper. Why would they slip you a note? The thought fled from your mind with his next words. “Listen carefully,” he hissed, “to what happens next - your life depends on it.” 

Why now, you thought, why when I have so much to live for?

[concreteangel92]

Hey there! It's blend-in-with-the-madness 🙂

Thank you for offering to write something!

The BDSM Noah moodboard has really fried my brain so I'm not sure what I want to request exactly haha. Surprise me! Since this one is the birthday present, I'm sure Noah would do something amazing and very smutty for my birthday, uh the reader's birthday of course 😆

For the Halloween one, Noah and reader go to a costume party. Reader has been a brat all day and she's being extra bratty during the party. Noah takes her into a bathroom for quick little edging "punishment" and he says they'll finish at home only if she behaves. She pushes his buttons and says she'd like to see what he'll do if she doesn't behave. 😏 I'll let you take it from here!

For the Halloween costume part, Deadpool and Wolverine have been living rent free in my head since I saw the movie lol so... I think Noah would look great in the Deadpool costume (mask kink honestly) and reader is wearing this (https://imgur.com/a/eRxVUxX) a Wolverine themed dress for easy access during the party and maybe after the party too

Thank you again for offering to write! No rush on these at all! 🙂🫶

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: brat taming, dom/sub relationship, fingering, remote controlled vibrator, semi public?, mean!dom Noah, I think that’s about it haha

I’m so sorry this has taken so long to get up but I hope it was worth the wait for you!! ☺️

First part of the request is here

* You’ve been a huge brat all day. I’m taking back chatting, being sassy for no reason and just over all winding Noah up just because you could

* You could tell Noah was taking it all in, even if he hasn’t said anything, you knew you’d eventually pay the price

* “you better behave yourself at this party”

* “Don’t I always?”

* Noah would just give you a glare in response “I mean it, if you act up tonight then there will be serious consequences”

* You nodded to keep him quiet but in your head, you knew you were far from done.

* Later that night you were both dressed for the Halloween party you were attending

* Noah was dressed as Deadpool and you were a female wolverine

* Seeing Noah in the mask was a huge kink of yours, one of the reasons you’d suggested this as your couples costume

* Once at the party, you allowed Noah to think that you were behaving, it was only a couple hours later that you started to push his buttons once again

* If you were grabbing a drink, you’d only get one for yourself and when he asked where his was, your response was “you have legs, get it yourself”

* You’d make small jokes at his expense in front of his friends and talk over him during the conversation

* Not being able to hide the small smirk on your face when you would catch the look he was clearly giving you through the mask

* What tipped him over the edge was when he caught you chatting to some random guy who was talking to you and when you saw his gaze, you playfully put your hand on this guys arm when you laughed at his poor attempt at a joke

* Seeing Noah shaking his head was all the confirmation you needed that he was extremely pissed off

* You made your excuses to this guy and went upstairs to the bathroom

* You let out a small shriek when you felt someone push you inside and slam the door before locking it

* “You really have been a disobedient girl tonight, what the fuck was that?”

* You looked up at him innocently “what do you mean?”

* “You know exactly what I mean, you’ve gone too far tonight so let me remind you of who you belong to”

* The next thing you knew, Noah had flipped your dress up, pushed your underwear to the side and he had his gloved fingers knuckle deep inside your dripping cunt, relentlessly working your body like a violin as you felt your high building

* He’d pulled his mask off at this point, it was thrown next to where you were sitting up on the counter

* “I can feel you clenching down on me, getting close baby?”

* You moaned out a choked “yes”

* For Noah to then bring his fingers away, leaving you staring wide eyed at him

* “Too bad, only good girls get to finish. If you start behaving then I’ll make sure you finish later”

* Feeling extremely annoyed at being edged, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying “and what if I don’t?”

* Noah stood back and glared down at you, he blinked at you a couple times before he reached into one of the pockets of his costume

* “I had a feeling I’d have to be prepared for your back chatting mouth”

* He pulled out the remote controlled vibrator you owned and held it up to your face, your attitude swiftly changed when you realised what he was about to do

* “What’s the matter angel? Don’t feel like running that mouth of yours now?”

* He then pulled your underwear down your thighs so he could push the toy inside of you, your walls instantly gripping onto it

* “Now, you will keep this in for the rest of the party and take what I give you. Don’t even think of taking it out until we are home. Do you understand me?”

* Noah had put your underwear and dress back in place and had caged you in by putting his arms on the sides around you, his tall frame looking almost intimidating as he leaned over you

* “Answer me”

* “Yes sir”

* Noah smirked and stood back up and reached for his mask

* “Good, you can behave”

* Once he’d put his mask back on, he unlocked the door and gestured for you to go out in front of him

* You could fully feel the vibrator as you walked

* It was as you were walking down the hallway that you suddenly felt your knees nearly buckle as the vibrator buzzed to life, sending shock waves throughout your body

* “Shit!”

* You turned around and saw that Noah had his phone in his hand and waved it casually

* “Brats need to be punished”

* And for the rest of the party, he certainly made sure you were learning your lesson

[thelovelyruin]

𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : he’s your ex, and he’s having a hard time moving on from you.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓: smut, angst, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, love, fluff, teasing, fingering (TOXIC CHOSO SHEESH)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from fruit by abra.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello, lovelies, thank you so much for reading! one of my favorites. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Tell me what you did last night.

“I don’t think so, at least not with some guy like that.”

“Believe what you want. She fucked him; couple sources tell me so.”

“The fuck are you, TMZ?”

Choso knew you didn’t, at least you wouldn’t, maybe; you’d been walking around with him, putting distance between you guys so as not to raise suspicion. But Choso knew you, probably better than anyone else. Deep down, he’d convinced himself you were still his, noticing how you’d keep eye contact with him or at the very least leave him on read, and when he asked you why you don’t just block him, you’d give him a smirk as you walked off, and damn, he loved to see you go.

Did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?

Choso was in love with you still, falling asleep to the thought of you. He missed your smell, your touch, your, well, you know. He knew he was a fuckin’ asshole though, saying some really rude things to you, terrible at times. But, he never thought you’d break up with him. Especially when you were a total bitch right back. Every fucked up thing Choso said, you’d follow up with some egregious shit, always looking for a low blow. Like that time you insulted him for not being able to get it up since you’d been arguing all day, which in turn, he fucked the shit out of you, getting you to shut up. For ten minutes. You’d had enough when he accused you of fucking with some guy you met at a party, conveniently the same guy you were talking to now. Which made him really fucking mad. It was one thing if you’d fucked the guy after the two of you broke up, or in Choso’s head, you were on a break, but the idea of you fucking him while you were together? That had him fuming.

Tell me why you always fight. Waiting on you to get with it; what's with the resistance, baby?

Choso wasn’t the aggressive type; as much as you’d argue, it really came from insecurity. He knew you were pretty, hot even, catching the attention of damn near every guy who walked by you. When you were together, he’d grip your ass to tell them to fuck off, but now that you guys split, they’d start approaching you, and you’d have to tell them off, reminiscent of when you’d yell at him like that. You shouldn’t have to do that, and maybe if he’d acted right, he’d be able to protect you still. When he got particularly tired of that guy talking to you, he walked up to the punch bowl. He interjected, like a shark swimming through the sea of party go-ers, pushing any motherfucker who got in his way. He’d cleared the distance fast, immediately bringing his arm around your waist.

“Sorry, buddy. She’s taken.”

You pushed Choso’s hand off, not even looking him in the face, instead pointing your attention back to the dude in front of you.

“No, I'm not. Now why don’t you fuck off so I can continue my conversation.”

“Uh, actually, I’ll talk to you later…”

Choso had scared the guy off, face bearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him in disgust.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve.”

“What did I do, baby?”

“You’re scarin’ the hoes, plus I’m not your fuckin’ baby.”

Don't listen to a word they say.

Before Choso could respond, you’d walked off in a fit; that made him really hurt. You’d just rejected him in front of some guy you barely even knew and brushed him off like a fly on your shoulder. You’d walked over to your friends, who, when you pointed at Choso, shot him death stares. He deserved that for sure, but nonetheless, it was insulting. He went off to meet Yuuji again, pulling the tequila out of his bag and throwing shots back like a madman. His tolerance was pretty high, but that didn’t stop him from getting dunk, probably one drink or two away from blacking out. He looked about the party, trying to find you, and when he did, you were with the fucker he’d accused you of cheating on him with again, his hand on your waist. Choso was to his limit at this point, wanting to steal you away and take you back to his apartment; he wanted to bring you home and show you just how much he missed you.

I'm in your head like every day.

Choso knew it was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop him from pulling out his phone and texting you.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You’d check your phone, looking around until your eyes landed on Choso, who was already making his way to the bathroom. He had something to prove: if you still loved him, you’d come to the bathroom with him, and if you didn’t, you’d leave him hanging. He walked into the upstairs bathroom, closing it behind him as he splashed water on his face to sober up. After a couple of minutes, there was a knock on the door. He opened it, ready to tell the guy who was knocking off. But it was you. Tits sitting pretty in that strapless dress, so fuckin’ short you couldn’t bend over at all. He pulled you into the bathroom, locking the door as he sat you on the sink.

And you deny yourself…

Choso began kissing you, using one hand to spread your legs apart so he could start to touch you. You’d thrown your head back so he could begin sucking the skin there, pushing him off of you the second he started biting you, not allowing him to leave hickies, and fuck that made him angry. In retaliation, he pulled down the top of your dress, tits falling out as he brought his mouth up to suck on them, taking extra care of rubbing your clit as he sucked your nipples into his mouth. A couple of people walked by to use the bathroom, every time pulling off your nipple and taking his hand off your clit so you’d shut up, telling them the bathroom was occupied. That was until Yuuji knocked on the door.

“Yo, Choso, is that you?”

He almost didn’t answer, coming back down to lift your dress completely up, all of the fabric bunched around your stomach until Yuuji kept talking.

“You wanted to know where she was, right? Asshole just left, but I haven’t seen her, probably left together.”

Choso looked up from your chest, smirking.

“Don’t worry, she didn’t. I’ll be out soon, had to throw up.”

“Okay, I’ll be in the car.”

With that, Yuuji walked off, leaving you and Choso to your own devices. You looked down at him with a twisted face as he slid his hands under your legs, positioning you on the counter so he could eat you out.

“Don’t you think you should leave? Someone’s waiting for you.”

“He can wait; I’ll make this quick.”

As much as he pissed you off, your pussy missed him. He’d been fucking you since sophomore year, meeting you at a car meet a month after the semester started; he ate you out the next day in the back of his S550, so you were his. It was hard to resist him a lot of the time, especially when he’d walk around campus giving you that hungry-ass look, obviously going through withdrawals. You’d heard it through the grapevine that he was keeping his dick to himself, rejecting every girl that decided to wait til you broke up to fuck him. That’s why fucking with other guys was so fun, you knew he couldn’t fucking stand it.

And then you scream my name…

Choso started eating your pussy, sliding his tongue between your lips, lapping at your bud as he moaned into you. Fuck, he looked good. Sucking your clit as you held his head up to your pussy, telling him you were ready to get this over with.

“So, that’s what this is about?”

He hadn’t lifted, keeping his face between your legs, fingering you as he spoke.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about.”

“You brought me here to eat me out because you thought I fucked him, huh? Needed to prove a point or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, enjoy it 'cause it'll be the last time.”

“Yeah, right. I see you still wearing that necklace I bought you.”

“Oh, don’t even-”

“Can you just shut the fuck up for once?”

Choso brought his face back to your pussy, sucking your juices up as he massaged your ass. You couldn’t lie, it felt really fucking good. You didn’t wanna cum for him, not like he deserved it, but your body had other plans. He’d been fucking his fingers into you, hitting that place he knew set you off; you hated how good he knew your body. Within seconds you were seeing stars, eyes rolling back as he chuckled into your pussy, drinking up all your cum as he slapped your ass. 

“Good girl. Give it to me, baby.”

God, you were perfect. Moaning his name as he brought a hand up to pinch your nipples, sucking your clit as he fucked you through your orgasm. When you came down, you pushed him off, fixing your dress as he licked you off his fingers. He put your panties in his pocket, kissed you quickly, and unlocked the door.

“If you want them back, you know where to find me.”

“Fuck you.”

And I can't take it.

Come chase the night with me.

You were back to ignoring him again, walking the other way when you’d see him about to walk by and stopping your conversations if he did happen to walk by. You’d been pretty dedicated to this little charade, telling everyone who asked that he was your ex, not even your friend. Which, in theory, he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to be. The only real option was to be your boyfriend, and you were giving him a hard time with that. He’d text you like he always did, telling you good morning and night, and then there were the gifts. It had always been his love language, so it didn’t surprise you when you had roses waiting for you at your door, or a bag of your favorite makeup from Sephora, or a perfume he’d want you to try. You were really coy about it, too; he’d smell you as he walked by, and you were wearing it; you’d wear the lipgloss he gave you and left the note for the roses outside your door. It wasn’t until one afternoon when he was particularly toxic, texting you to let you know he still had your things and didn’t want you to go without them.

“Okay.”

It was a basic text, which really pissed him off, but it was more than anything you’d given him since he ate you last week. You wore one of the dresses he’d bought you when you were together, wanting to get a rise out of him, and your mission was accomplished when he licked his lips the second you walked out of the building. You saw he got a new wrap on his car, the black chrome you’d encouraged him to get for the longest time, persisting that it would look great on his S550, but he insisted on keeping that deep purple wrap. He treated it like a surprise as he opened the door for you, to which you gave him:

“Nice wrap.”

Shit, he’d take it. As he climbed into the driver's seat, he placed his hand on your thigh, which you swiftly moved away. That didn’t stop you from putting your hand on the gearshift adjusting it as he pulled off. God, you were so fuckin’ push and pull. He decided to talk to you as he drove.

They say I'm bad, you say it back, but you know you don't believe that.

“So, how was your day?”

“It was good.”

“Nice earrings.”

“Thanks, they were a gift.”

“Oh yeah? From who?”

“Hm, his name evades me.”

“I see you’re on your shit again.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means we’ve only been driving for ten minutes, and you’re already talkin’ crazy.”

“Talkin’ crazy? That’s real rich coming from you.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a piece of shit.”

“Didn’t stop you from fucking with me.”

“It did, actually.”

“Was that before after I ate your pussy?”

“Says the motherfucker still in love with me.”

Just like that, you guys were arguing again. It didn’t feel too good, but it was a glimpse into what you guys had, so he was willing to tolerate it. He tensed his jaw as he pulled up to his apartment, turning the car off annoyed, which didn’t go unnoticed by you because you scoffed at him as he opened your door. He walked behind you on the stairs, getting a nice view of your ass as you walked, and he wasn’t stupid; you’d put a lil sass to your walk.

Eat the fruit that feeds your spirit on your knees; now, baby, eat it, eat it.

Choso unlocked the door to his apartment, letting you walk in first, locking the door behind you. His apartment looked the same, but what you’d noticed was that your boots were still at the front door. Your makeup was still organized in the bathroom, and a couple of new products there, presumably gifts he hadn’t gotten the chance to give you. Your earrings were still on his dresser, along with the picture of you two at the fair a few months ago. When things were still healthy between you two.

“I see you haven’t moved my stuff.”

“Because you weren’t supposed to leave.”

“Not exactly ex-boyfriend behavior, Choso.”

“What would that be?”

“Moving on from me, giving me back my things or throwing them away, not talking to me, the list goes on. Let’s be real, you didn’t bring me here to get my shit. Why do you keep doing this? Can’t you see I'm hurt? I don’t wanna be hurt anymore; that’s why I fuckin’ left! I hate that I love you!”

Choso walked up to you now, bringing you into his arms. You hesitated at first, then softened into it. He was always so warm, especially when he was vulnerable like this. When things were good. You began crying into his sleeve, holding on to him tighter as he brought a hand up to caress the back of your head.

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll do better to treat you the way you deserve. I know I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sorry, but it doesn’t excuse the shit I’ve said to you. Just want you back, baby.”

You pulled back to look him in the face, him wiping away your tears.

“Yeah?”

“Of course, princess.”

You brought him into a kiss, deepening it as he held your lower back, your fingers in his hair.

“Then make me feel better.”

Are you really gonna stand there staring at me all the way from across the room?

Choso let you down onto his bed, standing over you as he pulled off your heels, his shirt and pants right after. He climbed over the top of you, making out with you again as he slipped his hand behind you, arching your back as he unzipped your dress. He pulled off you, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He thought a lot of things; when he asked you to come over, he fully expected to eat you out again, but what really surprised him was your lack of a bra and panties. You’d come over knowing you wanted to fuck him, which made him even hungrier for you, immediately massaging the outside of your lips to tease you. You writhe your hips, begging him to touch you how you need him to. With soft kisses, he made his way down your body, stopping at your tits to suck hickeys into the skin there. You hadn’t stopped him this time.

Are you really gonna stand there staring at me?

Choso’s head fell between your legs, pushing your hips apart as he brought his fingers through your lips, feeling how wet you were for him. He had half a mind to fuck you right then and there, but his main prerogative was to make you cum first, prepping you for later. He’d known it had been a while, a month since you guys had sex, and he wasn’t gonna believe those rumors. Not when he slipped his tongue into your folds, making you his girl again as you moaned his name into the pillow.

“Let me hear you, baby. Need to hear how much you missed me.”

Don't listen to a word they say; I'm in your head like every day.

He was sucking with a passion, practically making out with your pussy as you moved your body against his. He needs you more than anything right now. You were his water, his food, his air. It had been a long month, unsure just how bad he’d fucked up, praying you’d come back to him. And now here you were, letting him take care of you, please you, relieve the stress of the past few months. Taking you to a place where there was no arguing, no fighting, just you and him. You gripped the sheets as you came undone, moaning his name softly instead of screaming it; that’s how he knew he really had you.

And you deny yourself…

But he wasn’t done there. He would make it up to you; so many nights you had to sleep without his touch, nothing but your pillow to sleep on. He needed you to know just how much he loved you, and you were pretty damn sure two orgasms later. You whimper at this point from overstimulation, your body giving into him despite how spent you are.

“How many times are you gonna eat me out?”

“As many times it takes for you to give me another chance.”

Choso wasn’t malicious, though, so he gently laid your legs back down, kissing them as he let your thighs rest on the bed. He kissed his way back up to your neck, sucking hickeys there, groaning as he made you his again. He massaged the fat of your ass now, naked body humping against his as he moved his hips with yours, bringing his lips to your ears.

“Can I fuck you baby?”

At that point, you needed him. Bad. It felt like it had been forever since he fucked you, making quick work of taking off his briefs, helping him position himself between your legs. Choso towered over you as he took in the sight before him. It felt like a mirage, having his girl lay out in front of him, begging for his touch as her hand pulled his wrist, signaling she was ready, the side of her face pressed into the pillow. He brought his fingers to your folds, saturating them as he put your essence on his shaft, nearly shuddering at the feeling. He brought himself down to hover over you, kissing you as he slid himself in.

And then you scream my name…

“Fuck!”

“Jesus, baby…”

You felt so fucking good. He felt like he’d been in rehab for the past month, finally getting his fix again because you were fucking addictive. He started by making love to you, holding your hands as he fucked you deep and slow, whimpering in your ear. But then, he really missed you. He picked up his pace, hips beginning to rut into yours, making you moan his name so loud, he was sure the neighbors would hear you. As he fucked you, though, his mind drifted, thinkin’ about shit he shouldn’t. Fuck, he needed to know.

“Did you fuck him?”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Did you fuck that guy everybody’s been saying you did?”

You were pissed at him again. Here you were, blissed out, and he was asking about some fucker you only ever flirted with.

“No, I didn’t; now, please just fuck me.”

He believed you, but he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He had to make sure you didn’t get any ideas in the future. He picked your hips up as he fell back on his knees, fucking into you at a pace that made you feel so good you couldn’t even think. He was hitting you right where you needed him to, ramming that spot as he heard your moans pick up.

“Tell me, no one’s ever gonna fuck you like this.”

“No one’s gonna fuck me like this…”

“Who’s are you, baby?”

“I’m yours, Choso. Please...”

“Yeah? Then cum for me.”

 And I can’t take it.

He was fucking cocky, needing to hear you call out for him, need him, crave him. And that you did, which is why you gave him what he wanted. He drilled into that spot, and you burst like a firecracker, your body convulsing from your fourth orgasm of the night. You grip his arm, trying to hold on to anything as you give your all to him, as you’ve done time and time before. He was grateful this time; he wouldn’t take advantage of the kindness you’d shown him. That’s why he gave you all he had, too. He threw his head back as he came inside you, holding your hips close to his to ensure he gave you all of it, not missing a drop. You moaned at the feeling of him filling up, gasping at the motion of his body hovering over you again, arms struggling to stay up as he slowly pulled out of you, kissing you as you both came down from your high.

They aren't in your head like…

Fuck, he missed you. It took everything in him not just to pull you in and hold you there forever, so scared you’d leave. He knew he had to clean you up, though, so he carried you to the bathroom and held you in his arms as you took a bath together, nearly falling asleep on his chest. Then, he brought you back to the room, dressed you in one of his shirts, and laid you under the covers, coming under to hold you close. 

Like second nature, you felt yourself melt into his arms, trusting him to protect you as he kissed your forehead, whispering over and over he loved you. You drifted to sleep; all he could think about was what he would do next. He was tempted to move you in at this point, take you to class in his car every day; you pissed at the loudness of his exhaust. Pick you up and take you out to eat, bring you home to watch a movie, then make love to you. He wanted to be perfect for you because that meant you’d be his forever.

They aren't in your head like…

When you woke up the next morning, you got ready and woke Choso up to take you back to your dorm. He could tell you were a little distant; to be fair, you’d been upset with him for the past month, so he was taking what he could get. Still, you kissed him before you got out of the car and walked into your building; he left when he made sure you were in there safe.

You hadn’t really talked to him that day; when he asked you what was wrong, well, you said:

“I just wanna make sure I’m making the right decision. I wanna make sure things aren’t gonna be like before.”

He’d respected your decision; you wanted to see him change, and he was going to. But that was earlier today, and he was thinking about you now. Old habits die hard, huh?

“Missin’ you, baby.”

“I’ll be ready in ten.”

They aren't in your head like me.

♱ the song used in this story is fruit by abra. 🖤

(this was probably one of the most emotional stories i’ve ever written, but also the fastest, which is probably a red flag tbh.)

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[moonlightspencie]

And I Will Follow You Home

Chapter 6 of ‘treacherous’

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: the final chapter! i may do some blurbs within this universe if anyone wants them as well, but this series is officially complete.

“Hey,” a voice came softly.

Remus turned towards the wall, unwilling to move from the bed.

“Remus.”

“What?” 

Sirius sat with his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, there’s a meeting downstairs in ten minutes. Most of the others have already arrived.”

Remus fell silent again, clenching his jaw. Sirius huffed a sigh, shaking his head to himself.

“You can’t keep skipping the meetings, mate. They’re important. You’re acting like a big baby.”

“You don’t understand–”

“What I understand is that she’s still showing up, and you’re not. Considering you’re so hung up on your age, you’d think you’d be more inclined to act like an adult.”

“I can’t look at her,” Remus admitted quietly, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

He had hardly been able to look at himself in the mirror after that night, let alone come face to face with you. You’d admitted you loved him, and all he could do was wreck it. It’s all he ever seemed to do, he thought, was to wreck things. He knew he was acting like a child and a coward, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit he’d wanted you just as much. Now he was coming to terms with the fact that he may never have the chance again.

“She still looks for you every time she comes into the house, you know?” Sirius said, crossing his arms.

“Probably so she can steer clear.”

“You’re the one who practically told her no.”

“No, I didn’t,” he snapped suddenly. “I didn’t. I just–”

“You just told her you didn’t want her right now. That’s just as bad, mate.”

He was quiet, the guilt creeping in again, washing over him. Sirius let out a breath, standing from the bed.

“We start in ten minutes. Be there, Mooney, or else I’m bringing everyone else up here,” he stated, then left the room.

You were sitting in a chair in the kitchen, trying hard not to think about the fact that Remus was a staircase and a couple of doors away from you. It had been weeks since you’d seen him, and unfortunately, absence really did make the heart grow fonder. You fiddled with the spoon you’d used for your tea nearly an hour ago, waiting for Sirius to return. So, it felt extra foolish when your heart began racing as you heard someone enter the kitchen, only to find Sirius giving you a small smile.

“Oh. Hey.”

He quirked a brow. “Wow. What a warm welcome that was.”

You let out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Tall, dark, and moody’s more your thing,” he teased, sitting next to you. “He’ll be at the meeting today.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

You shrugged. “I mean… what else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I just hate seeing you upset like this. Thought it might cheer you up to see him.”

“What, you think I’ll be all fluttery and excited for him to ignore me all evening?”

“Snippy.”

You sighed. “He doesn’t… He avoids me at all costs, now, Siri. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No. You were in the right. He’s just a big baby who can’t handle his emotions.”

“Mm.”

“Hey,” he said softly, waiting for you to look at him. “He does love you.”

“Not enough.”

“But one day–”

“It shouldn’t be an if-and-when, Sirius. The world is literally falling apart and he still refuses to be with me. What else would possibly compel him?”

He swallowed, looking a little more somber as his eyes darted down to the counter. “I don’t know, Sunshine. But you both deserve to be happy.”

“Tell that to him.”

“I’ve tried. He’s a stubborn fucker.”

You laughed a bit at that. “He is.”

“You love it about him, though, don’t you? Head over heels for some raggedy, old mule.”

“Hot, raggedy, old mule, to be fair.”

“Gross,” he laughed.

“But… no. I really don’t love that bit about him. I wish it would catch on fire and disintegrate.”

“Come on, but then he wouldn’t be Mooney.”

“But he’d love me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but came up short, merely pulling you into his side in a hug. You let him hold you, leaning into him. As if on cue, though, Dumpling came strolling in, his chubby little body bumping against your feet, heading straight for his favorite uncle.

“He’s obsessed with you,” you said, watching as Sirius picked him up.

“Who wouldn’t be?” He winked, that cheeky smirk of his shining through as he kissed Dumpling’s soft forehead. “Horrible little beast. Quite the attention hog.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

He chuckled, cradling the cat as Dumpling purred away. You reached over, petting the little traitor as he snuggled up happily to Sirius. You hadn’t even registered that anyone had come into the kitchen until you heard a voice that had you jumping out of your skin from one small word.

“Oh,” Remus muttered softly, freezing up as he looked between you and Sirius. Though he never quite met your eye. “Sorry. Just came for some tea before the meeting.”

“There’s a kettle on the stove. Probably just needs to be heated again,” Sirius responded.

“Right,” Remus nodded, walking quickly to the stove.

Your eyes followed him the whole way, that familiar warm feeling still blooming in your chest as it always did when he was around. 

“I brought a new flavor. Vanilla Caramel,” you blurted out. “If you want some. It’s sweet.”

Remus nodded, not turning around. “Okay.”

You chewed your lip, watching him carefully. You wanted to go over there and kiss him silly again. You also wanted to slap him. But mostly, you just wanted him to look at you.

“I made Sirius go for some cream, too.”

“Right.”

“Your favorite mug is in the cupboard.”

He only nodded that time.

You huffed out a breath, looking to Sirius for help, though he was too preoccupied petting your cat. You looked at Remus again, still standing like stone in front of the stove. You suddenly stood, going to the cupboard to get his mug. You brought it to the counter you were sitting at, setting it right in the center. You then went to get the cream and sugar, leaving them next to the mug. Finally, you reached for the tea, putting a bag in his mug before you sat down again. If he wouldn’t look at you, you could at least get him to face you.

“Why’d you do that?” Sirius asked, a little bewildered at your behavior.

“Thought it would be easier for Remus to prepare his tea if it was all set out.”

Sirius raised a brow at you, then glanced at Remus who was just turning off the whistling kettle.

“Well… Dumpling and I will be… somewhere,” Sirius nodded once, a tiny smirk in your direction as he stood, walking out of the room with the cat.

Remus finally turned, pouring the steaming water into the mug. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

He was quiet, filling the mug and then letting it sit for a moment as the tea leaves steeped.

You watched him for a second. “You’ve been missing meetings.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With who?”

He huffed a sigh in frustration. “Nobody. You know that.”

“You’re acting like you have something to hide. How am I supposed to know?”

“You should know because I…” he shook his head, cutting himself off. “I’m not seeing anybody. I’m not even talking to anyone except for Sirius.”

“Hm,” you nodded slowly, then looked back at him, studying his face as he looked into the cup. “I’ve missed you.”

“Please don’t start.”

“You’re being a dick. We were friends first, you know? I’m allowed to miss you.”

He finally looked at you, feeling his chest compress when he met your eyes. He wanted to snark back. He wanted to push you away. Despite the guilt he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you even more. But his pull to you felt just as magnetic as ever.

“How do you not hate me?”

“Probably because I love you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

“Quit trying to tell me what to do,” you shot back. “Trust me, if I could stop, I would.”

He frowned, looking back at his cup of tea, wishing he could drown in it. His jaw clenched, his head shaking softly again.

“Darling…”

“You said you didn’t want me,” you uttered quietly.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You may as well have.”

“I don’t want to lose you. There’s a difference.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous, and you know it.”

He sighed. “How? You’re… you’re everything. You’re brilliant and beautiful and kind and… and I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“Why do you have to insist on–” you stop, groaning in annoyance. “I can’t keep arguing about this. Why can’t you just trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s myself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” I roll my eyes. 

“No, I’m not. I’m being–”

“Sirius told me about you breaking his lamp. That’s drama.”

His cheeks went pink. “I only did that because you stormed out on me!”

“Yeah, because you all but told me you would never be with me!”

“I told you I loved you!”

“No, you didn’t. I said you didn’t and you said ‘I do’. That’s not the same thing as saying the words.”

“Well, I… I…”

You stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He blinked, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I love you.”

You all but gasped with the breath you sucked in, your stomach fluttering as his eyes were still glued to yours.

“Remus…”

“The meeting is starting soon,” he said, abandoning his tea on the counter as he started to move towards the door of the kitchen.

“Please don't do this again,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “Please. Stop running.”

“Baby, I can’t look at you without wanting you in every way possible. Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“You just said you love me. Just let me believe that’s true.”

He shook his head, turning to you fully. “It is true.”

“Why are you trying to leave again, then? Stop doing that to me.”

“I– I already told you. I can’t lose you.”

“The only way you’ll lose me is by pushing me away like this,” you said, voice raised in frustration. “We already did this once, Remus, and then you avoided me for a month. Don’t do that again.”

“You don’t understand what this is for me–”

“Then make me understand.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes drawing all over your face for a few moments as you waited with baited breath for him to say anything. He went over every possible response in his head, but only one won out.

You shuddered a breath against him as his lips suddenly met yours in a kiss that was far more hungry than the one you’d shared last time you were together. His arms went around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest, his grip possessive and needy. His tongue pushed into your mouth, leaving you whining softly, your hands in his hair.

“Don’t ever tell me I don’t love you,” he muttered against your lips as he broke away for a moment. “Or that I don’t want you. I want you more than anything.”

“Then have me,” you whispered back.

He stared at you, his eyes hooded and focused in on your lips. Though, you were both taken out of it as you heard Dumbledore’s muffled voice calling the Order meeting to start.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, head dropping against his shoulder.

He took a few deep breaths, stroking your hair softly. “We should go.”

“I know.”

“We can… We can talk about this later…”

You looked up at him. “You have to promise you won’t run again. Actually listen to me this time. I don’t want to argue.”

“Baby.” He frowned a little.

“Please, Remus. You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to be content with friendship.”

“I–”

“Just promise you’ll listen this time.”

“O-okay. Okay, fine,” he nodded. “Promise.”

You stared for another few seconds before nodding as well. You then broke away, intending on going to the meeting, though not before he grabbed your arm, pulling you into one more kiss. His lips moved against yours softly, but certainly not lacking passion. It only lasted for fifteen seconds before he pulled away again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, we can go now.”

You nodded, hoping you’d be able to pull yourself together enough to not be a flustered mess through the meeting. Though, you were certain by Sirius’s shit-eating grin when you’d both walked in that he knew within milliseconds. The bastard.

The meeting felt excruciatingly long, your gaze frequently being drawn to Remus who looked as calm and cool as ever. Also a bastard.

It wasn’t until you were back at Remus’s home, however, that you really started feeling the nerves kick in. You were in the living room, in the spot you’d always sit in, waiting for him to bring the tea. You stared hard at the coasters on the coffee table that hadn’t moved since the first time you’d ever been in the room. Now, though, you felt compelled as you leaned forward, pushing them a little closer together.

He came out a few minutes later, glancing down at the coasters, noticing their new position. He smiled a little to himself, though didn’t say anything as he sat down the mugs of tea. But this time, instead of sitting with you, he went to get a book from his shelf. You watched curiously as he browsed, searching seemingly for a specific book.

“What are you looking for?”

“Hold on.”

You chuckled softly. “Pardon me for the impatience.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He finally pulled out a book. “Ah.”

“Which one is that?” you asked as he came to sit next to you, closer than usual. 

He flipped through the pages, looking for one in particular.

“Here it is,” he said at last, showing the page to you. “Do you remember this?”

You nodded. “Of course I do. It's the first thing I ever read to you here.”

“It is.” He nodded, reading over it. “I… This line, here. The underlined one…”

“‘If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me’,” you read from the book. 

“If you can believe it… I was convinced I loved you then. I was sure you’d never feel the same. And then… Then I found out you did. It terrifies me.”

“It terrifies you that I love you?”

He nodded, looking directly at you. “You’re too good for me. You have to know that.”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is,” he replied softly, bringing a hand up to your cheek. “It is true. And you can believe it isn’t all you want, but–”

“Stop. Please.”

“You need to understand.”

“I understand that you think you’re some kind of monster. I understand that you’re scared. What you need to understand is that I don’t care about any of that,” you say softly. “Remus… You’re right that it would be hard to be together sometimes, with everything going on. I could go be with someone who’d be easier to be with, but I don’t want anybody else. Hell, I worked day and night just to develop a potion because I knew it would help you.”

“Why are you so insistent on being with me?”

“Because you’re everything to me.”

He let out a soft breath. “You’re foolish.”

“And you’re a little bitch sometimes, but I love you anyways,” you tease, reaching up to hold his wrist as his hand stayed on your cheek. 

He scoffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sirius.”

“You were ignoring me for weeks. I had to hang out with someone.”

His smile faded. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never.”

He took in a breath. “If… If you want this… like, really want this with me… you have to know that I can’t give you a peaceful life.”

“But will you love me?”

“Of course.”

“That’s enough.”

He swallowed down a lump in this throat. “It’s not always enough to just have love.”

“It will be, though. You’re kind, loyal, smart. Not to mention handsome,” you smile a little, as does he, his cheeks a little pink. “Whatever comes with being with you… I want it. All of it.”

“You don’t–”

“You all but told me you wouldn’t be with me, and you were still all I could think of after the fact. You have me already, Remus. You know that. I’m not going to shy away now.”

“You have me, too. In an iron grip, apparently.”

You laugh a little. “I don’t care what goes wrong. There’s far too much that’s right, and no matter how foolish you think that is, I think you’re ten times more dumb for trying to ignore that.”

He shook his head. “I… absolutely adore you.”

“Is that you saying you want this?”

“It’s me saying that you’ve somehow changed my mind. I think you’ve hexed me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He smiled. “Can’t help it. Most beautiful woman in the world is in front of me, you can’t expect me to be thinking clearly.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed back, just as gently, resting both of his hands on your cheeks.

“You moved the coasters closer,” he whispered.

“I did.”

“The tea is still hot.”

“It is,” you replied, raising a brow.

He sucked in a breath, eyes falling down and over your form. “So… we have some time before it cools off.”

The faintest smirk crept onto your face. “We do.”

Sunlight streamed in the room at sunrise, falling on two full, cold cups of tea, matching coasters, and a still-open book.

[chaoticace2005]

The list of regrets I totally have and am not just writing because Charlie is making me, Vagina Vaggie is glaring at me, and I want the free rent:

By Angel Dust, 3 time X-X-X award winner.

(Warning, there is some victim blaming in this. The abuse Angel faces from Val is not his fault, but given that I’m writing this from his perspective I figured it would be something he’d add.)

1. Writing this list

2. Verbally complaining about writing this list cause now Vagina wants to stab me.

3. Only taking half my usual hit before starting today.

4. Complaining about not being high enough.

5. Not hiding my drugs better

6. Not having more stashes of drugs

7. Calling TV superior to radio.

8. Not killing that snake before he had a chance to go to the hotel.

9. Not “trying hard enough” at this shitty hotel.

10. Being too close to roof so the CRAZY BITCH COULD THROW ME OFF OF IT.

11. Walking up the stairs with Pentious only to have to go IMMEDIATELY BACK DOWN.

12. Signing my deal with fucking Valentino. Seriously I’m a fucking idiot.

13. Even suggesting the idea that Charlie should come to the studio. She’s just going to get hurt.

14. Mouthing off to Val.

15. Not getting Charlie out of the hotel sooner

16. Being such a pathetic, dick sucking ho who isn’t good at anything beyond sex.

17. Not being able to take all of this.

18. Not acting well enough cause some this bitchass cat is seeing through me.

19. Ever offering that bitchass cat my services.

20. Pushing Husk’s boundaries

21. Not being my true self.

22. Acting for so long I don’t even really know who my true self is

23. Being a dick to Charlie

24. Being a dick to Husk

25. Being a dick to everyone

26. Putting my dick in a vacuum cleaner.

27. Calling Smiles a creepy dommy daddy.

28. Letting Niffty know about some of my more kinky films. She’s getting ideas…

29. Trying to play poker with Husk (and not even strip poker!)

30. Testing if my venom works on myself (it doesn’t and now I have pink bite marks)

31. Leaving what I used to clean my bites out because somehow Alastor found them and is now TEMPORARILY PARALYZED AND I DONT WANT HIM TO KILL ME WHEN HE CAN MOVE AGAIN.

32. Not answering Val’s texts.

33. Wearing boots. Seriously these things hurt sometimes.

34. Having ugly feet so I can’t NOT wear boots.

35. Tracking mud into the hotel

36. Mentioning sex around the Egg Bois because now I have to explain what it is.

37. Describing sex as something their boss “has never had,” it got back to Pentious and I’m scared.

38. Mentioning “Vox” anywhere in Alastor’s vicinity.

39. Agreeing to play Monopoly with Niffty. In general Monopoly sucks but Niffty likes to get knives involved?!?!

40. Getting addicted to drugs.

41. Getting caught in that alleyway by my BITCHASS brother.

42. Not trying harder for Molly.

43. Not saying goodbye.

44. Fucking overdosing.

45. Doing literally fucking nothing with my life and nothing with my death.

46. Taking the easy was out and doing whatever pops told me to

47. Yelling “FUCK” loudly in church that one time

48. Not teaching these people at the hotel how to FUCKING MAKE SPAGHETTI RIGHT?!

49. Getting high with Cherri.

50. Telling Val to “fuck off”

51. Flirting with that one cannibal guy because now they all seem to want to EAT ME (and not in the sexy way)

52. Leaving those pot brownies out. High cannibals, Egg Boiz, and Nifftys are terrifying.

53. Letting myself be named “Angel” because this makes shit too damn confusing plus I think Niffty wants to KILL ME?!

54. Not spending more time with these losers

55. Not opening myself up to Husk sooner.

56. Being too much of a coward to tell him how I feel.

57. Mentioning Pent has two dicks to Cherri cause she won’t stop asking about it.

58. Not doing enough to save Pentious.

59. Not telling him how much he means to me.

60. Trying to lift way more than I should have. Apparently six arms doesn’t mean I’m super strong.

61. Calling Niss a short motherfucker who nobody likes. I’m sorry, I’ll be better (and call him something even worse next time.)

62. Still being too much of a coward to tell Husk how I feel.

63. Flirting with Husk in Italian when he UNDERSTOOD ME THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME?!

64. Getting a room on the same side of the building as Alastor’s because he keeps laughing at 3 in the morning???

65. Kissing Husk in public. Val is mad.

66. Trying to even have a boyfriend with Val around. It’s stupid.

67. Calling yourself stupid for wanting to have a boyfriend.

68. Giving my boyfriend access to this list.

69. No regrets. Only 69. :D (Jesus Christ you’re a child.)

[y13evie]

I had an idea for a James Wilson fic and saw ur requests were open.

U don't have to do it ofc uts just an idea :]

So ig it's a kinda enemies to lovers thing where the reader constantly pisses off Wilson and she's absolutely convinced she annoys him sm there's no chance of him liking her.

Then smt happens (dunno what) and the reader is upset abt smt and is hiding from everyone as she has a breakdown and Wilson somehow finds her and.... ye

Again u don't have to do it but ye

anon this is so cutesy wutesy. i tried my best n i hope you like it!! also i’m sosos sorry for the wait.

tags: no mentions of y/n, slight angst, mentions of cancer and dead people and heart attacks, otherwise just fluffy

“do you always have that stupid smile plastered across your face?”, james wilson asked. you’re pretty damn sure he would erase you off the face of this planet if given the chance.

“only for you”, and you were proud of it.

because the both of you were in the oncology department together, it gave you plenty of opportunity to bug him. at first you truly didn’t mean to, small things like bumping into him at the wrong time. but instead of letting your feelings become shot due to his scolding, you embraced it. you make it your goal to do something that you know will annoy james.

today was friday and the two of you had been assigned the same case. the patient at hand had stage 3 soft tissue sarcoma. their condition wasn’t great, but vitals were fine. you were talking with a nurse about what steps to take moving forward with his treatment. out of the corner of your eye you saw that familiar face. the two of you beckon the other doctor over. it seems as if he was trying to ignore you, the way he hesitantly made his way over to you two.

“please, make it quick.” he huffed. the nurse explained the case while you stood there for a moment deciding on whether taking his stethoscope was a good idea. you decided it was and quickly took the device from off his neck and onto yours. you put your hands on your hips and contorted your face to look angry. james was not having it as he quickly tried to get it back. but you were faster than him and was able to keep it.

“you might think that’s funny but it’s unprofessional. i don’t understand how you’re allowed to work with adults when you act like a child.”. his comment seemed to kill the mood as the other nurse walked off, leaving just the two of you. deciding that he’d had enough you unwrapped the equipment from your neck and handed it back. james snatched it from you, looking you up and down in distaste.

“do your job. it’s doctors like you that kill patients”. his tone was harsh. it pierced your heart a little bit. ever since you had first joined the hospital crew, you always sort of looked up to him. he was so intelligent and seemed to always know what he was doing. and you hated the fact he implied that you were killing patients. the people you work so hard to save.

you tried to brush his words off, telling yourself he’s just a grump and didn’t mean anything by it. you continued your day as usual. you only had a couple patients today so it was a relaxed day. that was until the patient from earlier had a rapid decline in health. he suffered a massive heart attack and the team was not able to save him. you stood there as the doctors repeated his time of death. you’ve lost many lives before and you know it was just apart of your job, but something stuck to you.

“it’s doctors like you that kill patients”. his words rang throughout your mind like a gunshot. you made your way to the break room and curled up on the couch with your head in your hands. quiet sobs left your mouth. maybe he was right. maybe all this time you weren’t good enough. at this point you had fully convinced yourself that it was your fault. if only you had payed more attention to his history. if only you had searched deeper into his files, then maybe. just maybe, you could’ve found something to prevent this from happening.

the screech of the door opening had pulled you from your thoughts. you looked up to see him. james wilson. james was able to read the hurt expression on your face. he stared for a moment, taking in the situation.

“it’s not your fault”

you got up and started your way to the door with tears threatening to fall once again. james moved so you were unable to exit.

“dr. wilson, please-“ you practically begged him to move. but he wouldn’t budge. instead, his eyes softened and face relaxed. he looked worried. you tried once more to leave the room but jus as expected, you failed.

“i’m sorry.” he took a deep breath before continuing. “you’re an amazing doctor. you love your patients. i know you do. and you’re a good person. i want you to know that. every time you bother me i secretly enjoy it because i’m able to see you happy.”. he paused for a moment, waiting for your response.

shocked at the fact he doesn’t hate you, you ask him, “you..like me?. almost laughing at the thought of him enjoying your company. but he’s not laughing. his eyes are gentle and he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“of course i like you. and the fact that you’re..” he motions to your current state of sadness, “..like this because of something i said is awful. i hate the idea that i made you feel unworthy.”. you stopped for a second to let his words absorb into your head. as if someone else was controlling your body, you hugged him. he froze for a moment with his hands dangling above your back, before relaxing into the hug. james gently rubbed your hair and back while whispering kind words.

you were the first to pull away. slightly laughing at yourself for being so sensitive. you awkwardly look at him before shuffling your way to the door. just as your hand reaches the handle he stops you.

“hey, wait. after this is all sorted, would you want to have dinner with me tonight?” he cursed himself for asking at a bad moment, but knew he would never ask if he didn’t now. you looked at him, and then back at the door.

“yeah! i would love that. just uhm- let me know whenever. okay?thankyoubyeeee” you smooshed the last words together in an attempt to leave and

cover up your now rose tinted cheeks. on the other side of the door james pumped his fist in the air like a little kid. maybe he needed some sweetness in his life.

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

Just so cute? Part II

WC: 4.1k

Rating: 18+, fluff (maybe a little angst?) to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. Longtime friend of SKZ and Seungmin find their footing after some confusion the night before. This could potentially have a third part, if people seem to want it. It is a continuation of Part I.

⋆｡°✩

“Truth or dare!?”

After hearing his last truth question, you feel like you have no choice. “Dare, I guess.”

The delight is plain on Felix's face. Maybe you made a mistake. “I dare you to go down to the store and get everyone ice cream!”

Your sigh of relief harmonizes with Minho’s sigh of disappointment. “Yongbokkie, you need to find a happier medium between your truths and your dares. Plus, she shouldn’t go alone.”

“I don’t mind –”

“Seungminnie Hyung should go with her!” You hope the look on your face is attributed to annoyance at Jeongin’s interruption rather than frustration at his meddling. He shrugs. “He’s had the least to drink.”

Seungmin agrees before you can object. I guess it’s time to talk. But first… “Okay Innie, truth or dare?”

His girlfriend looks on a touch worriedly as he chooses dare. “Great. I dare you to take a shot of whatever condiments Minho wants to throw in a glass.” His face goes a little green while the others laugh and offer their condolences. 

You don’t stick around for the aftermath of your punishment, heading to take care of your own dare. As you’re putting your shoes on, a hoodie drops onto you. 

“You know you really don’t have to come with me, Minnie.” You pull his hoodie over your head, savoring the smell of him as it envelops you, and turn to face him. 

“I know, but I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you.”

You consider playing dumb to try to put the conversation off, but you just nod when you see the serious look on his face. “Let’s go then.”

You walk for a few minutes before either of you say anything. 

“About last ni–”

“Noona, I–”

The tension breaks with your laughter. This is Seungmin. Regardless of your confusion over your feelings, you’ve always been able to talk to him. This shouldn’t be any different. You’ve been acting silly. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine. Go ahead, Minnie.”

He sighs and looks a little like he wishes he’d pushed for you to speak first. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable this morning. I didn’t really think through what I was doing; I didn’t mean to cross a line. I don’t want you to feel like you need to avoid me.”

Despite the darkness of the night, you can tell his ears are red. He’s not looking at you anymore, instead looking down at his feet like a puppy who just got scolded. You take one of his hands in yours before you answer. “You have nothing to apologize for, Seungmin. Did I really seem like I was avoiding you?”

You know you’d been putting off talking to him, but you hadn’t realized that it was so noticeable.

“Kind of?” He steals a glance at you, cheeks puffed out as he considers his next words. “I thought you might stay at our dorm today when the others left or come to my room when you got back. I guess I didn’t ask you to come to me, though, and I’m realizing now that it might’ve looked like I was avoiding you, staying in my room like that.”

“I didn’t think you were avoiding me.” When you get to the store, you have an unspoken agreement to continue this when you return outside. You grab a variety of ice creams and see that Chan texted asking that you bring back the least spicy ramen you can find for a dare. Menace that he is, Seungmin of course grabs the spiciest option, and you text back a smiley and a thumbs up. You can’t help but laugh at Chan’s inevitable demise. When you leave the shop, the mood sombers again, but you’re still close. Seungmin insists on carrying the bags, so you link your arm around one of his. 

“Can I ask why you kissed me this morning?” You’re being a little bit of a coward, still making him carry the burden of the conversation, but you understand where he’s at even less than yourself.

You’re pretty sure he walks for a full minute, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes straight ahead. “Well, it was a combination of things. I’ve always felt like we really connected. Both when we hang out together and when we talk while we’re on the road. I think it’s always been a bit different with you than our other friends. Lately, you’ve been on my mind a lot, but I didn’t want to talk about it and mess up our friendship. I really do value your friendship, and I know the rest of the guys do, too.” He glances at you then, maybe trying to read your expression, gauge your reaction to what he’s saying. You find you’re not all that surprised to hear it. Of them members, he has always been one you felt you could resonate with most. You know how caring and kind, how loving he is with the members, and you’ve seen how his treatment of you is nearly the same. You do have a tendency to gravitate toward each other. God, have I been this dense?

“Anyway, when you kissed me during the game, I got it in my head that maybe you were starting to think of me that way, too. And we never kiss goodnight on the lips like that, though I know we were drunk. And…” He shifts both bags into one hand so he can run his fingers through his hair. He’s clearly flustered. 

“And, Min?”

He says it with a rushed sigh before looking away. “And you felt so good in my arms, and you looked so beautiful; I had to ask.” He comes to a stop, turning to face you. You look up into his eyes, nearly getting lost in their depths. He looks beautiful. “And you said yes.”

You trace his features with your eyes, resisting the urge to run your fingers over those lovely lips, along his strong jaw. Now it’s your turn to be brave. “I did. And it was a wonderful kiss, Min. I can’t say that I’m exactly where you are –”

He starts to look away, his face falling a little bit, so you do reach up to touch him now. Your hand rests against his cheek, turning his head so that he’s facing you again, though he keeps his gaze downcast. Sad puppy vibes abound. “But. I do think I’m starting to catch up.”

His eyes flash up to yours, and you can see his hope. You know you should say more, but for now, you’d rather show him how you’re feeling. You tilt your face up while your hand slides back to wrap around the nape of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. It’s short and sweet. His lips are soft as flower petals; he’s much more reserved than he was this morning. It’s for the best, though. The ice cream will start to melt if you don’t get back soon, plus anyone could see you out here. 

⋆｡°✩

The rest of the walk has a different brand of silence, the comfortable, companionable kind of  quiet shared between people who are just happy to be in each others’ company. 

Reentering the dorm is a little like walking into a riot. Naturally there’s plenty of yelling. Someone (with a death wish, clearly) has strewn as many of Minho’s cat clothes as they could find around the living room. Chan is laughing so hard that he’s crying with Jeongin actively trying to smother Jisung with a pillow on the floor in front of him. It’s perfect.

“Ice cream!” Minho yells when he sees the bags in Seungmin’s hands. He grabs one bag, digging through for his favorite before tossing it to Chan. As he reaches in, he pulls out the ramen with a look of utter betrayal on his face. 

“I asked you to get the least spicy one! Do you want me to die?”

With a laugh, you immediately throw Seungmin under the bus. “I’m sorry, honey. Seungmin told me that one would be best.”

Hand to his chest, fake outrage on his face, Seungmin feigns innocence. “You told me that was for Changbinnie Hyung; I never would’ve gotten that for Channie Hyung.” He stage-whispers to Chan, “watch out for that one, she doesn’t have your best interests at heart, Hyung.”

You venture into the chaos, passing out ice cream, hearing about the shenanigans you missed while you were gone. When you make your way to a less murderous Jeongin and a barely breathing Jisung, you give the latter a little kick. “You guys can quit meddling; we’re figuring things out. 

Jisung beams up at you while Jeongin deadpans, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever you say, Innie.” You plant a kiss on his cheek, bringing out his dimples. 

The rest of the night ends up being a lot calmer than the one before. The group opts to watch a movie rather than getting the games going again. One turns into two, and everyone snuggles up together. When the second movie ends, the others start figuring out sleeping arrangements and who all will be heading back home to their own beds. Seungmin takes your hand, leading you back to his room. The t-shirt you wore to bed the night before is slung over his desk chair. 

He eyes the shirt. “Are you gonna stay over again tonight?” 

You nod, grabbing the shirt as he leaves the room. You’re entering new territory here. It makes you nervous. You consider leaving your clothes on but ultimately decide it would be more awkward to act differently than normal. You’re sitting cross legged on his bed, chewing on your lip when Seungmin comes back in, gently closing and locking the door behind him.

He approaches with a small smile, giving you a peek at the braces he too often tries to hide. You expect him to sit beside you, talk about what you guys are to each other, what you’re becoming. What actually happens is much better. 

His big hands are on either side of your face, lips crashing to yours before he even gets all the way onto the bed. Your tongues clash; he’s kissing you like a thirsty man drinks water, taking as much as he can get. As your arms wrap around his neck, his hands move down to your thighs; he lifts you with surprising strength, sliding underneath you so that you’re straddling him. In your state of undress, his hands easily slide up under your shirt. One stays near your hip, rubbing his thumb over the top of your panties. The other continues up, giving your breast a squeeze before pinching your quickly stiffening nipple between two fingers. 

You gasp into his mouth, excited by his touch and surprised at his ferocity. Your hands swiftly reach down, gripping the hem of his shirt and drawing it up. He breaks the kiss to drop it to the floor and pull yours up and off to join it. Immediately, his mouth locks onto your breast, licking and sucking, while his hand moves to tease at your other nipple. You arch into his touch with a soft moan, one hand in his hair while the other sneaks between your bodies to grasp his cock. It is an impressive length and its girth makes you salivate as you imagine the way he’ll be filling you soon.  

It’s his turn to groan as you start to pump him through his shorts. He drags your mouth back to his and allows you to push him down onto his back. He kneads his fingers into your ass as you grind against him. Even with the remaining layers between you, it feels amazing. Seungmin clearly agrees. “Fuck.”

You smile into his mouth, pleased to hear how you’re affecting him. You start kissing along his jaw, licking and nibbling at his neck, drawing a sharp exhale out of him. With that, his hand appears between your legs, another soft groan escapes his lips when he makes contact with your drenched panties, realizing just how hot he’s made you. The rough circle of his fingers almost makes you want to forget what you had in mind. 

“Noona, I –”

You silence him with a kiss. “Just relax, Minnie. Let me take care of you.” You kiss your way down his body. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you never imagined you’d have the chance to be this intimate with him. He’s thin, but you can feel how strong he is with each kiss and caress. You stop to nip at his hip, and glance back up to see him smiling down are you, lower lip pulled between his teeth. You tuck your hands into the waistband of his shorts, pausing for just a second before pulling them off along with his boxers, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the ground. 

As you settle yourself between his legs, you lick your lips and run your fingertips lightly along his cock. He’s so big. You aren’t sure that you’ll be able to take all of him, but you can’t wait to try. 

Seungmin props himself up on his elbows so he can watch you more easily. He looks almost mesmerized as you drag your tongue from base to tip, eyes locked on his. You wrap your lips around his head and suck hard. A strangled whimper comes from the head of the bed as Seungmin tips his head back, exposing his lovely long neck; you wish you could leave dark marks all over it. 

You take it slow, one hand wrapped around his base while you lick, kiss, and suck along the rest. You gradually take more and more of him down your throat, his melodic moans combatting your discomfort at his size. You can tell he’s doing his best to stay still, to let you do your work, but as you try to take him a little further, his hips jerk up with a “fuck.” You gag, tears springing to your eyes, and pull off for a second to catch your breath. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sits halfway up, reaching to cup your cheek and brushing away a tear with his thumb. “It just feels so good.”

You like hearing him call you ‘baby.’ You just smile at him, then lazily drag the flat of your tongue over his tip to collect the precum leaking out. “I’m fine, Minnie. Don’t worry.”

Before you can get back to your work, he pulls your face up to his for a kiss. “As much as I like this, I was hoping we could switch things up.” 

His smile is so relaxed and beautiful. You nod, and he reaches over to dig in his nightstand. “Shit. I’m going to kill Jeongin.”

He flops back over onto his back with a sigh, and you can’t help laughing.

“It’s not funny, Noona,” but he’s chuckling, too. “Things were going so well.”

“They’re still going well, Min.” You lay down at his side and give him a few kisses. “We don’t have to go any further. But if you feel comfortable, I do have an IUD. So as long as we’re both clean, there’s not much to worry about. Granted, I should’ve checked that before I put your dick in my mouth.”

You’re both laughing again. “Don’t worry, Noona; I’m good. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I got tested. I would never do anything that could harm you.”

And you know it’s true.

“Well then,” you move to straddle him again. You’re still aching for him, the brief interruption doing nothing to slow you down. As you grind your hips, you know he feels the same. As much as you want to take the next step, you loathe to stop. He feels so good. “I guess we’re good to go.”

Before you can do anything else, Seungmin moves suddenly, flipping you so that you’re underneath him. Once again, his speed surprises you as he peels your panties off your body and settles between your thighs. 

He sits back on his heels, his mouth is quirked up on one side. “Almost good to go.”

You pull a face. “Kim Seungmin, it’s rude of you to make me wait for your cock.” 

His smile widens as he leans down to kiss you. But instead of giving you what you want, he shimmies down your body until you’re gifted with the beautiful view of Seungmin’s head between your thighs. You almost want to complain, impatient to have him inside you, but the feeling of his breath ghosting over you paired with that of his hands caressing your hips while he stares up at you with those boba eyes amps up your anticipation. “I got ahead of myself; I need to do something first.”

He teases you at first, kissing the insides of your thighs, your outer lips – his mouth everywhere but where you want it. Where you need it. You slide your hands into his hair, pulling lightly to try to redirect him, and whisper, “Seungmin, please.”

“Patience, Noona.” The smile he flashes at you reminds you that he’s one of the group’s biggest menaces. Luckily, he heeds your plea anyway, and your mind goes blank the second his tongue touches you. He mimics the way you started with him, a nice, slow lick, then swirling his tongue around your clit for a moment before blowing on it gently. You clench and moan at the sensation. 

He works you slowly, teasingly, switching up his technique every time your legs start to tremble. It’s so good and terrible all at once; you don’t know how much more you can take. When he suddenly starts sucking and flicking his tongue up and down, you feel you might implode. If you weren’t so turned on, you might be embarrassed by the whine in your voice.

“Minnie…”

He pulls away and sits up with a grin, almost simultaneously sliding two long fingers into you. His thumb begins circling your clit as they curl inside you. You let out a small whimper. 

He shifts so that he’s kneeling with one hand posted at your side as he pulls his fingers out to stroke himself. You’re disappointed to be left empty, but love watching him spread your wetness along his shaft. 

Seungmin drags the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit with his clit a few times before moving to fill the loss of his fingers. When he starts to slide in, you can’t help the moan that leaves your lips. He smiles even wider as he lowers himself down, now braced on his elbows as he slowly buries himself into you. “Tell me how you’re feeling, Noona.”

“Oh, Minnie,” you all but gasp, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Your nails dig into his back as he starts slowly rocking his hips. He fills you so well, hitting just the right spot. “You feel so, oh, so good, Seungmin. God. You’re, uh ah, perfect.”

Whether it’s your words or the squeeze of your body around him, Seungmin can’t go slow anymore. He picks up the pace, and you try to meet him thrust for thrust. He sits back and slides his hands under your knees to fold you so that your knees are at your chest. In this position, you’re unable to kiss him, though it had been getting hard to focus on kissing anyway. Instead you watch the concentration and pleasure on his face as he begins slamming into you; it’s a symphony of skin on skin, heavy breathing, gasps, and moans. 

You start to near your peak, and he must be able to tell. He sits up more, and his hands slide up your thighs to bring your calves up over his shoulders . It’s almost too much for you. You can’t do much more than clutch at the sheets. He pounds into you, his fingers digging hard into your hips. You might end up with bruises. Good as it feels, you need more to put you over the edge. 

“Min… I need…”

He knows. He sticks his thumb in his mouth for a moment before applying delicious pressure to your clit. The friction created with his thrusts has your eyes watering. Your breath is coming out in gasps and moans as you try to say his name. You grab the hand that’s still on your hip. 

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” he pants. 

You can feel the surge in him as he tries to stave it off. It tips you over the edge. Your body is on fire as you convulse around him. Seungmin soon follows you, allowing your legs to fall back down around his hips, he grinds into you. His other hand finds yours, fingers interlocked above your head, and his forehead rests on yours as you ride out your pleasure. 

When the tremors pass, he plants a soft his on your lips before slumping down with his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, relishing the feel of his weight on your body. You lay like that for what feels like forever, breathing each other in as he grows soft inside you. Finally, he sits up and pulls out, grabbing the package of wet wipes from his nightstand for a quick clean up. Then, like the night before, Seungmin lays down, pulling you against him – this time on his back, your head resting on his chest. You fall asleep easily with his arms around you, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

⋆｡°✩

You wake when you feel Seungmin getting out of bed and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Minnie?” You murmur, trying to reach out and touch him before he moves too far away. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“I’ll be right back; I just want to start the coffee.”

You let your eyes close again and stretch as he heads to the door. You hear a huffed laugh and open your eyes to see him walking back to you with something in his hands. A basket?

He holds up the note that must’ve been on top. “Minho Hyung thinks he’s funny.”

Your eyes widen, and you sit up as he sets the basket between you. Your cheeks flush as you take in its contents: two bottles of cold brew, two bottles of gatorade, a handful of granola bars and a couple bananas, a package of wet wipes, a bottle of lube, a sleeve of condoms, and – 

“What is this?” You unfold a pamphlet of some sort. It shows a few stick figures doing a variety of stretches to ‘help avoid thigh burn out,’ all with Minho’s signature wrinkly-faced Jureumi. “Do I even want to know what the note says?”

You’re sure your face is as red as Seungmin’s as he reads it aloud:

Darling Puppy, Did you forget you live in a dorm with other people? As proud as I am to know that you’re a competent lover, I think I speak for us all when I say there’s no need to provide further evidence. Here you’ll find a few goodies to aid you in your adventure – remember, it’s important to not only have enough sustenance to maintain your stamina but also to do your best to avoid cramping. Also, keep in mind that not everyone wakes as early as you, so any morning activities should be kept to a minimum volume. In a pinch, biting a pillow can stifle a good number of… interjections.  Don’t make me hurt you, Your Favorite Hyung  P.S. Happy for you, Noona. You’re welcome to stay over any time so long as you keep your dog on a leash.

You’re pretty embarrassed, but luckily you’ve witnessed plenty of embarrassing moments when hanging with the guys. You can’t believe you’d both forgotten to try to keep things quiet. Still, this isn’t even going to be the most awkward sex story from this dorm. Felix will forever hold that crown. And when you’re laughing with Seungmin about it, seeing the unabashed joy on his face, you know you’d do it again, if given the chance.

Seungmin leaves you to shower, saying he’ll go out to get a true breakfast. Typically he doesn’t like to eat in his room, but when he gets back he lays the food between you on the bed then pulls something out of the other bag he brought in. A couple sets of ear plugs. He’s grinning as he brings out a bag of small bows to stick on top. “Think this is a good enough apology gift?”

[himluv]

Just a Taste

Chapter 28(?!?!) of Say My Name (Say it Twice) is here! Read it below or over on AO3!

Now that he and Rook are together, Lucanis decides he might just try acting on some of these new feelings he's been struggling with late at night.

There was no place that Rook could go that Lucanis would not follow, but the Necropolis put a stutter in his step every time. Even without Spite, he didn’t think he’d be comfortable in the dank, dusty, cavernous place. It reeked of incense and funeral bouquets, and the backs of his eyeballs itched furiously at the rampant magic that kept the crypts intact. 

It was a place that vaunted death, and while Lucanis was well-versed in the causes, he did not like to dwell on questions of what came after. 

He was not a religious man. He firmly believed you only get one life that could so easily be curtailed, so it was best to live well. The Necropolis suggested there could be more to life and death, and Lucanis had no interest in exploring those possibilities for himself. 

While the Necropolis made him uncomfortable, it made Spite irritable. Even more so than usual. The demon did not play well with other spirits, especially ones as benign and courteous as those in the desiccated halls of the Necropolis. 

So, they were both quiet and discomfited as they followed Rook and Emmrich. Rook seemed, if not entirely at ease in the crypts, at least curious about the magic required to maintain them. She and Emmrich spoke in hushed, reverent tones that Lucanis only heard part of. 

“I didn’t expect it, but Strife and I are getting along quite well,” Emmrich said. 

Spite growled at the mention of the elder Veil Jumper, but if Emmrich heard it, he chose to ignore it. And Spite wasn’t the only one troubled by mention of Strife. 

The Professor might be oblivious to it, but to Lucanis, Rook’s discomfort with the conversation was clear. Her posture was rigid, shoulders back and head high, despite the downward tilt of her chin. 

“But where to go with him…” Emmrich continued. 

Asking Rook for advice about Strife was reasonable, but Emmrich didn’t know about their recent fight. And Lucanis could tell that she would rather not speak about her mentor at the moment. 

“Does he like coffee?” Lucanis asked. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d needed to alleviate Rook’s unease. He winced. “Or... knives?”

There was a beat of silence as Emmrich and Rook both turned to look at him. Emmrich’s brow was furrowed as he considered it, but Rook could barely bite back her grin. 

Mierda, what was he thinking? He knew nothing of Strife and even less of romance. He should not be giving advice to Emmrich of all people. The man was stylish and confident, and doubtless had much more experience than Lucanis. 

“Sorry, Emmrich,” he said. “Rook might be better at this.”

She gave him a chastising look, one he knew meant he’d hear just what she thought of that later. And while she would never convince him that he was good at flirting, he looked forward to her efforts to do so. 

As the mages fell back into discussion of where Emmrich should take his date, Lucanis let them lead the way through the dusty halls, content to watch their backs. Besides, he very much enjoyed the view of Rook’s hips when she jogged ahead of him. A view it was getting harder and harder for him to ignore.

Want. Rook! Spite said.

Lucanis shot him an ugly look. He did not need the demon’s needling now, not with Emmrich close enough to hear. 

Spite’s grin widened. Want to watch. To touch. To TASTE!

“Enough,” he hissed at the demon. 

“Everything all right back there?” Rook asked. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her lips. 

“Fine,” he said. 

Rook wants too! Spite glared at him. Would make. Rook. Happy!

Lucanis rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was his demon encouraging his more… salacious thoughts. They were out of control as it was. Luckily, Spite got distracted with chasing a wisp, and Lucanis was able to follow after Rook (and her lovely, wide hips) in peace. 

A few days later, he and Rook were sitting in the armchairs in the dining hall, enjoying a rare cup of morning coffee. She was going to Arlathan with Davrin and Assan later that afternoon, and she was always jittery before a trip home. Partly out of excitement – she truly loved the forest – but also because she was bound to see Strife. 

So, in an effort to ease her nerves, Lucanis had offered a light breakfast and coffee. Few of their colleagues were fond of mornings, so they had the dining hall to themselves. The meal, coffee, and easy conversation seemed to be working. Rook’s eyes were clear and her smile bright as she sat and chatted with him. They were discussing favorite books, and while their mutual love of reading was exciting, they were learning that they had very little overlap in their reading history. 

She shook her head. “It’s been so long since I had time to a read a book,” she said. 

He nodded. “Bellara has made it her mission to get me caught up on all I’ve missed this past year.” He said it so casually, without any consideration, that for a heartbeat he didn’t understand why Rook’s smile melted into a frown. 

“Oh, Lucanis–”

He raised a hand. “It’s fine, Embria,” he said. It was more than fine, actually. For the first time since his escape, he hadn’t thought of the Ossuary when he alluded to the time he’d lost there. There had been no water thundering in his ears, no bands of ice cinching his chest tight. There’d merely been the facts of the matter: he’d missed a year’s worth of publications. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he added when he noticed the concern in her eyes.

“You didn’t,” she said. She took a deep breath and looked down into her coffee cup, suddenly timid. “I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about it.”

Something in his chest twinged, and he had to look away. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. The bitterness in his voice surprised him. It’d only been a few short months since Rook had saved him, but he was tired of thinking about and talking around his imprisonment. 

Her hand was warm on his forearm, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But, if you need to,” she said. 

Lucanis gave her a tiny, half-smile. “I know,” he said. “But, you’ve already seen it.”

Her look was skeptical, as if she didn’t fully believe him. Which… was fair. She’d seen his thoughts, his fears and insecurities. She had not seen the actual torment, the memories that replayed in his dreams on the bad nights. If he could help it, she never would.

“Embria,” he said. “You know my thoughts. I’m all right.” He squeezed her hand where it rested on his arm. It still amazed him, how she touched him so easily, and it amazed him even more how much he looked forward to her touch. 

She squeezed his arm, then released him. “Okay.”

The dining hall door opened and Emmrich entered the room. He hummed a little tune and had a definite jaunt to his step. And, most tellingly, his clothes were every so slightly rumpled. It was clear that the mage had only just arrived back at the Lighthouse.

Lucanis smiled. “Emmrich,” he said. “How did it go?” 

The professor grinned. “Very well, thank you!”

Lucanis glanced at Embria fondly. “I knew Rook would give you good advice.”

She snorted at that and rolled her eyes. “I told him to go look at bugs.”

He frowned. “Bugs?”

She shrugged. “There’s a cave where the bugs glow like veilfire.”

He blinked at her. That sounded… beautiful. Possibly gross, but still beautiful.

“Actually,” Emmrich said, his smile sharpening and a hand on one hip. “As it turns out, Strife does indeed collect knives. So, your suggestion was excellent as well, Lucanis.”

“Really?” He stared at the mage and pointedly ignored Rook’s grin in his peripheral vision. “That…” he shook his head. “Has never worked for me.” He sat forward, his own smile widening. “I can get you the name of my blacksmith.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Emmrich said. 

Embria downed the last of her coffee and stood. “At least that means Strife should be in a good mood today.”

Emmrich’s mustache lifted with a wry smile. “I daresay he will be.”

Rook made a disgusted noise, her nose crinkling adorably. 

Lucanis looked between them for a moment, sure he was missing something. Why would Strife’s good mood be cause for disgust–

“Mierda,” he said, heat rising to his cheeks as he understood just what the mages were talking around. Good for Emmrich, he supposed, but that was not information Lucanis needed, nor wanted. First Taash and Harding, now Emmrich? And if the lingering looks between Neve and Davrin meant what he thought they might…

Was everyone in the Lighthouse having sex?

Well, everyone but him and Rook. And maybe Bellara, though he’d seen her blush whenever she wrote in her notebook. Maker only knew what she was writing about. 

Jealous? Spite whispered at his ear. 

No, and he needed to curtail this train of thought – Emmrich could hear Spite. 

The demon sniffed the air and grinned. Ahhhhhhh. Nervous! Afraid. To want!

“Lucanis,” Emmrich said, interrupting the demon. “Were you really spurned once for gifting someone a knife?”

Rook looked at Lucanis, her eyebrows high with surprise. 

He shrugged. “Not ‘spurned’ so much as ignored.” He shook his head. “I just… don’t have Illario’s gift for flirting.”

Rook curled her lip at his comparison to his cousin. He knew she disagreed with him, but she was hardly a neutral party. And it was an objective fact that Illario was far more charming than he was. 

“Well,” Emmrich said. “We all approach things in our own way.” The older man’s frown was gentle. Patient. “Who was it, if I might ask? The recipient of your gift.”

Lucanis shifted in his seat. “A Crow from another House.”

Rook gave him a curious, amused look. 

“It was a long time ago,” he added. 

“I’m surprised that the gift wasn’t better received, then,” Emmrich said. He sounded almost miffed on Lucanis’s behalf, which was nice, but completely unnecessary. Whatever fledgling feelings he’d carried for Viago had long since faded. 

“You’ve met him,” he said. “He’s very… particular.”

Rook’s gaze burned into him, and he knew she had at least a dozen questions she wanted to ask. Lucanis focused on his coffee while she waited for Emmrich’s tea to steep. Once he left, she refilled their cups with the last of the coffee. 

“So,” she said, handing him his cup as she returned to her seat. “A very particular Crow from another House.”

“Yes.”

Her smile only widened at his terse reply. “This wouldn’t happen to be a certain Fifth Talon, would it?”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a long time ago, Rook.” 

Her smile softened as she reached for his hand. “I think it’s sweet,” she said. 

Sweet. He wondered, would she still think him sweet if she knew how he thought of her, late at night? How he imagined her touch, her taste, when the night drew long? How, when his dreams weren’t haunted by the Ossuary, they always featured her? 

She’d said she would leave initiating the more… sensuous aspects of their relationship to him. And while he knew he wasn’t ready for all that could entail, he couldn’t deny he very much wanted a taste. Just a little hint of her desire, to get him through the next aching night. 

Lucanis took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. A soft, chaste kiss they’d shared many times now. Then he turned her hand to press his next kiss to the heel of her palm. 

“Sweet,” he murmured, the word ghosting over her skin. He glanced over at her, saw the surprised heat in her eyes, and his own desire surged through him at the sight. His instincts screamed at him to look away, to hide this feeling from her.

But Lucanis didn’t want to hide anymore. Not from Rook. So, he held her gaze and allowed his own to go molten. 

“And if I don’t want to be sweet?” He asked, his voice low and controlled. He pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist and hummed when he felt her pulse jump against his lips. 

She watched him as if stunned, her eyes dark and lips parted. She licked her lips and blinked. “What do you want?”

He hummed again and let their hands return to the table between them, still interlaced. He wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted to touch her, to explore her skin and see which spots made heat bloom in her cheeks and her breath hitch. But that wasn’t an activity for midmorning in the dining hall. Plus, she had an outing to prepare for, and Lucanis wanted to take his time with that particular experiment. 

He released Rook’s hand and moved to stand before her. She looked up at him, crystal grace eyes wide and wondering. Then he leaned forward, planting a hand on each arm of her chair, framing her between his arms, his body hovering over hers. Her breath hitched, her chest heaving beneath him, and Lucanis let a slow, pleased smile claim his lips. 

Slowly, he leaned closer to her. Rook lifted her face, her eyes fluttering closed, and for a breath he marveled at her like this. Flushed pink and just a little desperate. She was perfect. 

Rook. WANTS!

Yes, she most certainly did.

Lucanis leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Have fun with Davrin and Assan today,” he said at her ear. She shuddered, and then he pulled away from her with a mischievous grin as she let out a frustrated huff. For a moment he feared he’d done something wrong, perhaps had even upset her, but her frustration turned to an awed chuckle as she opened her eyes and saw his smile. 

“So,” she breathed. “Lucanis Dellamorte is a tease.”

His grin widened, and he ran a hand through his hair. “For you? Yes,” he said. “I think I might be.”

Her blush deepened and she bit her lip, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes. Another gorgeous image to lock away in his mind for later. Then his doubt wormed its way back to the surface. 

“Is that all right?”

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “That?” She continued, gesturing at him with one hand while the other brushed her hair back over one ear. “That was… very good.”

It was his turn to blush. He cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat. “Good,” he said. 

She stood, eyeing him with plenty of residual heat. “Will I see you in the music room after dinner?”

His heart thumped in his chest, and his throat felt dry. But he thought of his own desire to touch her mere moments ago and nodded. 

“Good,” she said. Then she stood up on her toes and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. She grinned at him, and then headed out into the bright fade-light of the courtyard. 

Lucanis stood there for a long moment, his hand coming up to touch where her lips had met his skin. “Mierda,” he whispered, shaking his head. 

He was going to kiss her tonight, he decided. They’d both waited long enough. And with his mind made up, now he just needed a distraction to pass the time. He glanced around the dining room, and decided he’d start by cleaning the kitchen. And, when that was done, if he still had Rook’s lips on his mind, he’d go workout. 

Tonight. Just a handful of hours and he would finally know if this first kiss truly tasted like honey and lavender cream. He suspected it wouldn’t. Because, if he had to guess, it would be even sweeter. 

[scarasbaefy]

when they lie

he lies, not knowing you already know the truth.

chars; kazuha, wanderer/scaramouche

; mentions of cheating, f.reader but can be read as g.neutral, not proof-read

note; DOING SOMETHING NEW!!!!! REQUESTS R OPEN BTW!!!!

;join taglist

Ⰶ

.kaedehara kazuha

“i’m so sorry, y/n. i wish i wasn’t the one telling you this, but i wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if i didn’t say anything. i’m extremely disappointed in his actions.” beidou said with a sorrowful look on her face.

she had explained to you moments prior about what she had seen on the deck of the ship while everyone was unloading cargo. kazuha had been kissing another passengers cheek as they held each other lovingly.

“i need to talk to him. thank you, beidou. i know you would never lie to me about something like this, but i have to hear from him myself.” you told the captain before heading to the location kazuha had told you he’d be at.

you arrived at the top of the hill. kazuhas back was facing you, but he turned to face you once he heard you approaching.

“i knew it was you,” he said with a smile, “my love, i’ve missed resting on land with you. come sit with me. the air feels lovely.”

“kazuha…” you ignored his request, “i feel as if something is wrong. is there someone else thats taking your attention? perhaps someone you’ve grown to like better than me?”

kazuha softly gasped, taking a step back before collecting his composure. he didn’t think there was any way you’d find out about him cheating. he loves you— but he loves this other woman as well. he had taken great precautions to make sure no one knew anything.

“of course not, darling,” your heart sank at his words. you didn’t know he was capable of lying. especially to your face. although you looked like you were going to be sick, he continued, “why would you even ask a silly question like that? you know i’d never do something like that to you. i love you and only you.”

“beidou told me everything.”

this time, his heart sank.

scaramouche

scaramouche is big on betrayals. he’s the last person who would commit such an act on you. or so you thought.

you and nahida were secretly looking out for scaramouche as he had left sumeru city to join a research team on their exploration. it’s something nahida had persuaded him to do so he wouldn’t be cooped up doing nothing.

the two of you giggled as you watched your boyfriend walk along the river, unknowing of yours and the archons presence. the laughter immediately came to a halt when nahidas eyes widened, a look of horror replacing what was once happiness. you followed the direction of her eyes, your smile dropping as you saw scaramouche greet another wanderer with a passionate kiss.

nahida was quick to release the spell on your out of body experience. tears flooded both yours and her eyes as the realisation started kicking in. who was that other person? why did neither you or nahida know a thing about this? did he really keep this under the radar to the point neither one of you grew a single speck of suspicion? a million questions flooded your brain, but nahida was there to comfort you.

the day scaramouche returned, you were ready to confront him. though, nahida had convinced you to put him to a test. would he lie to you or would he confess everything and be honest?

“hey, i’m back.” scaramouche hugged and kissed your forehead, “did you miss me? you better have. i missed you while i was away from you, so it’s only fair that you missed me as well.”

when you didn’t respond or reciprocate affection, he knew something was wrong. you bit your lip, contemplating on how to ask him about everything. your trust on his honesty wearing thin the more you would think about it.

“i doubt you missed me!” you faked a playful smile. “i bet you were out kissing other people or getting another girlfriend or something.” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you.

he laughed at your words as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “as if. you’re the only person i need. everyone else… i can’t trust.”

it was your turn to laugh. “don’t amuse me. you? can’t trust anyone else? i should be the one who can’t trust anyone. including you.”

scaramouche looked confused, so nahida cleared up his confusion by replaying his memory of the stranger over and over.

“you’re such a hypocrite.”

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