#I wish I had more...then I could make it longer

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last�� “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[holybibly]

Warnings: NSFW link in text / food play

Unholy thoughts of the day, my sweet bunnies: Inspired by a random NSFW video seen on Twitter, Seonghwa asks you to do something special for him tonight when you both are video chatting, which is fucking your pretty, pink cunt with a sweet and sticky strawberry lollipop.

It was something that Seonghwa had been dreaming about for a long time, but he had never dared to ask you to do it for him. But he could no longer resist his desires when yet another video of a girl fondling her pussy with a sweet, shiny lollipop appeared on his feed. His voice was so soft and velvety as he shyly asked you to show him how you fuck your sweet wet pussy. At first you were even surprised by his shyness as this was something you and Hwa had done more than once or twice, but when he added " with a lollipop" barely a breath, you could understand the reason for his behaviour.

At first you didn't quite understand how to do it. But after a few ( 1 / 2 ) videos Hwa sent you, you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

Seonghwa moans softly as he strokes his big cock and watches as you slowly slide the bright red strawberry lolly between the wet and sticky folds of your aroused pussy. His tongue darts out to hungrily lick his sensual, plump lips as he watches your labia lewdly parting around the lollipop, allowing it to slide deeper into your cunt before you run it up your slit, and tapping it weakly against your swollen clit.

"Oh, Fuck." He runs the pad of his thumb over the swollen, leaking head of his cock, biting his bottom lip to muffle his pathetic whimpers. Especially when you pull the lollipop away from your pussy and show him the long, shiny strands of your sweet goo left behind.

"I bet you wish you were between my legs at the moment." You want to sound cocky, but the thought of Hwa's long tongue wriggling in your pussy and fucking your hole makes you moan and whine. All you do is stroke yourself with the lollipop and you're already such a fucking mess.

"You have no idea how badly I want to do this, my angel. So fucking badly." His hand slides along the wet, thick length and he licks his lips again, like a cat looking at thick cream. "Come closer, love. I want to see all of you." He whispers as he unconsciously moves closer to the screen of the laptop.

You do as you're told and when your cunt is almost in front of the camera, you finally insert the lollipop into your tight, slippery hole. Seonghwa has to bite the hem of his black tank top to muffle his loud howl at the sight of your pussy greedily swallowing the smooth roundness of the lollipop. You moan, slowly fucking yourself with the candy before slowly pulling the strawberry treat out. The soft edges of your hole lick the glossy, sweet surface and when the lollipop is completely out of you with a wet, squelching "pop", Seonghwa squeezes the base of his cock roughly to keep from coming on the spot at the sight of the stream of mucus flowing out of your hole, which you collect on the lollipop and bring to your mouth to lick it all off.

"I hope you're going to be here with me next time, baby, so we can clean up that lollipop together."

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (06)

And we are back for another chapter !

Warning: cursing (maybe)

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

05 <- 06 -> 07

Masterlist

Taglist

Todoroki’s heat had finally passed after three long days. He’d spent them either with Kirishima buried deep inside him or wrapped in his muscular arms, their bodies entwined in moments of quiet warmth. It had been all too easy to lose himself in the haze of desire, letting the weight of everything else fade away in a blur of passion and closeness. But now, as the intense flush of heat left his system, his mind was painfully clear.

Embarrassment hit him hard. What was I thinking? He asked himself repeatedly, and almost felt lightheaded as he recalled the desperation—the way he’d thrown himself at you like some lovesick teenager in his first heat. It was reckless and stupid. Worse yet, he’d let himself imagine all sorts of salacious fantasies involving you, Kirishima, and himself throughout his heat. It was utterly inappropriate. The clarity felt almost unbearable as shame surged through him, dense and stifling. If it were just about embarrassing himself, he could eventually deal with it. But the memories of that day went beyond the dizzy haze of horniness, beyond the scent of peaches and yours warm touch against his skin. He also remembered Kirishima’s raw rage and the deep red of your blood covering your face and the hospital floor. Shame gnawed at him from within, leaving in its wake buds of guilt, which blossomed as images of you walking around with a crooked nose and split lips flooded his mind.

Thankfully, it had been Kirishima who picked him up from the hospital that day. The red-haired hero had been too considerate to press him on what had happened; his only priority was taking care of him. Yet, as Todoroki had laid beside Kirishima on the third and final night of his heat, he knew that by morning, he’d have to face the rest of the pack. And neither Katsuki nor Izuku would spare him the questions he dreaded.

Morning came too soon. By the time Todoroki left his room, Kirishima was already gone and it was still early, he knew no one had left for work yet. He rushed to the bathroom to shower, hoping the hot water might somehow calm his nerves or at least give him a moment to gather his thoughts. For the first time in his life, he almost wished his heat had lasted longer—anything to delay the inevitable, awkward conversation but no amount of scalding water could cleanse the mess of emotions swirling inside him. After a dozen of minutes, he resigned himself, finished his shower and got ready for the day.

The moment he emerged from the steamy bathroom, Izuku was waiting, worry pooling in his green eyes and his rough, scarred hand instinctively lifted to cup Todoroki’s face. His touch was warm and steady, grounding him and quieting the chaos within him. Despite the awkwardness of this whole situation, seeing Izuku made his heart flutter, and he smiled softly in his mate’s arms.

“Shoto,” Izuku murmured, his voice filled with genuine concern. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wanted to be there, but I was tied up at the agency and..." He hesitated for a moment before continuing in a fast ramble, "Just... if you need anything, I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. I already called your agency and told them you’ll need a few more days off. Kirishima told us a little about what happened, and I swear, we’ll track down that doctor. We’ll make sure—”

“He doesn’t need you babbling in his damn ears, Deku.” Katsuki’s voice cut through Izuku’s rambling. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze locked on Todoroki—not unkind, but piercing.. “He gets it. He’s not helpless, you know.”

Izuku shot Katsuki a small frown but remained unfazed by his blunt interruption. Beneath the sharp words, Todoroki could sense Katsuki’s genuine concern. The familiar edge in Katsuki’s tone was oddly comforting, and he knew that Katsuki’s refusal to coddle him was just his way of showing respect and consideration.

As they moved to the dining table, where Kirishima was already eating breakfast, Todoroki took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and took his seat around the table. Izuku quickly joined him, sitting beside him and reaching over to place a comforting hand on his knee. Todoroki felt a rush of gratitude for the quiet support, and even Katsuki, despite his sharp gaze, gave him space to speak without pushing him.

.

.

.

“So... you were the one who threw yourself at her?” Izuku’s voice was hesitant, his doe eyes blinked and his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to process Todoroki’s recounting of the events.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Katsuki scoffed in disbelief.

Todoroki’s face flushed deeply with embarrassment, his cheeks burning so much that he thought he might actually burst into flames. This was a lot more mortifying than he’d imagined. Izuku had started off so supportive, leaning in to comfort him, but as Todoroki went on and explained the situation, he watched Izuku’s expression shift from understanding to confusion, and finally to what felt like... judgment. Slowly, Izuku had began to scoot away from him, casting side glances full of disapproval and making it impossible for Todoroki to meet his eyes. Katsuki was more disappointment than anything else. Unbelievable, he muttered to himself. To him, this was beyond stupid—something a too-hormonal high schooler might do and definitely something Todoroki should’ve known better. But it was Kirishima’s silence that unnerved Todoroki the most. The red haired kept his gaze down, uncharacteristically quiet, before abruptly standing up and storming toward the door.

“I need to go apologize!” Kirishima’s voice was laced with urgency, tinged with panic, but Bakugo grabbed his arm and halted him.

“You can’t go back to that hospital, Eijirou,” Katsuki said firmly, tightening his grip. “What are you gonna do, knock on the door and ask for the doctor you beat up? You’ll only make things worse.”

“Kacchan’s right. She’s probably scared right now, and she’ll run the other way if she sees you again,” Izuku added, stepping in front of Kirishima and blocking his ways like a barricade, while exchanging a look of silent agreement with Bakugo.

“But I can’t just stay here! I hurt her—badly. She even tried to explain, but I wouldn’t listen,” Kirishima’s voice grew agitated. The vivid recollection of your tear-filled eyes and bloodied lips coiled within him, guilt tightening its grip on his chest. What kind of man hits an innocent woman? he thought, fists clenched as he struggled to free himself from his mates' hold.

“I’ll go,” Todoroki interjected suddenly. His words startled the others and they turned to him, puzzled. “It was my fault. I should apologize to her.” His voice was calm but resolute, slicing through the tension in the room and carrying a steadiness, calmness, that sought to soothe Kirishima’s agitation and remorse. “Izuku’s right; you can’t go there directly, Eijirou. I’ll go and apologize on behalf of both of us.”

"But I have to do it myself! I was the one who hit her. I should at least cover her medical bill!" Kirishima protested, spurred by a faint voice in the back of his mind reminding him how unmanly—and even less heroic—his actions had been.

“I’ll tell her you want to apologize in person too. If she’s okay with it, I’ll give her your number so she can reach out to you,” Todoroki assured him gently. It pained him to see Kirishima like this, especially knowing it was his fault. All he ever wanted was to see him smiling, radiant and untroubled, and judging by the looks on his other mates’ faces, it was clear they all shared the same feeling.

Kirishima’s expression wavered, torn between making a run to the hospital or listening to his mates, but Katsuki ended his internal debate with a firm arm slung around Kirishima’s shoulders, steering him toward the door.

“Come on, shitty head, we’re gonna be late. It’s Shoto’s mess, he’ll handle it,” Bakugo said, his voice losing its usual edge, and softened just enough to offer some reassurance to Kirishima.

Izuku lingered behind, casting Todoroki a final glance filled with quiet suspicion. Todoroki could almost see the gears of his mind turning, overthinking as always, but then Katsuki barked Izuku’s name from the doorway, urging him to hurry up. With a sigh, Izuku followed the red eyes pair and they all left for work, leaving Todoroki behind in their appartement.

Todoroki paced in circles around his apartment, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He kept telling himself that he needed to apologize, but every time he neared the door, a wave of nerves yanked him back, making him turn and start another lap around his living room. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—unsteady, so... nervous as the weight inside him grew heavier, sinking like an anchor. He’d never been one to feel so unsettled—he was usually straightforward, never having trouble apologizing when it was needed. If he made a mistake, he fixed it; he owned up. But this felt different. Today, shame, guilt, and apprehension mingled within him in a discomfort he didn’t fully understand.

“Okay, it’s just... an apology. You’ve done this before,” he muttered under his breath, trying to summon his usual calm. He had told his mates so confidently that he would do it, but look at him now. “Just go in there, say you’re sorry. It’s not complicated.” Yet the words didn’t settle him. Instead, they only seemed to make him more anxious. Why was facing you so daunting suddenly? He couldn’t explain it—he didn’t understand it.

After what felt like ages, he forced himself to grab his keys and head out the door, before he could talk himself out of it again. But the nerves only grew worse when he settled into his car and sat behind the wheel. The flashes of three days ago replayed in his mind, flashes of him almost humping the backseat. They made him wince as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and started the car.

The hospital wasn’t so far away from his apartment, a short 30-minutes drive, but he had to will himself to stay focused on the road. When he paused at a red light, he found himself wondering if your scent would be as intoxicating and bewitching as he remembered it to be and the thought made him groan as he banged his head on the steering wheel, mumbling to himself, Focus, Shoto.

As he drove past a flower shop, a quiet voice in his mind suggested he bring you something. He considered it for a moment, pondering on how appropriate it would be to bring flowers to someone he didn’t know, especially someone who had been beat up because of him. Yeah, no, even he could tell it would be weird. But somehow, he found himself making a U-turn, parking his car in front of the flower shop, and stepping inside.

The floral scent enveloped him immediately—a soft, sweet fragrance that seemed to soothe the edges of his nerves. Before him laid a sea of vibrant and cool blooms stretched out in rows: roses blushed in shades of crimson and coral, delicate peonies, soft violets, cheerful tulips, and vivid anemones. The shop was beautiful, but he knew he had to leave fast when he realized he was searching for flowers that would complement the color of your eyes. He almost laughed at himself. Ridiculous, he mused, but there he was, his feet planted firmly on the ground, and a minute later, he was holding a bouquet of dahlias. With the flowers in hand, he made his way to the counter, quickly paid, and rushed back to his car, feeling the steady thrum of nervousness in his chest.

Finally, we got to see Izuku and Katsuki in this fic. It took us 6 chapters but we made it through!!

I hated writing this chapter, omg, it took me almost a whole week. You guys have no idea how many versions of this chapter exist 😭. The length wasn’t the issue—I tried to make it a bit longer than usual (not by much, though; I’m usually around 1.5k words, but today I hit 1.9k). BUT omg, nothing really happened here. I think it was just a boring chapter (at least to write) 💀.

I’ve always referred to the characters as Todoroki, Kirishima, Izuku, and Katsuki in my head. But it’s kind of weird how half of them go by their first name and the other half by their surname in the narration, right? It’s also a bit confusing when I use both in the same chapter, so I’ve decided to stick with Izuku, Katsuki, Kirishima, and Todoroki for the narrator. The reader will use their first names once she meets them properly.

As always, criticisms are welcome.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

05 <- 06 -> 07

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ;

[midgetmoth]

I have realized somehing with the news of a possible Farmer Vic. I looked back at “The Box” episode, and rewatched a specific scene.

The lasso scene. I never really considered it, but Vic knows how to use that lasso very, very well. During the scene, we as the audience see this as a callback to the first episode Victim was introduced into. The video that showed him and his clone using the different tools to fight against their creator.

But this is very different with the context of how GOOD Victim is at using the lasso tool. He didn’t just learn to use it, he learned to master it. He snagged Chosen out of the air-

-and then brought him in. Closing the distance, pulling on the rope until-

-he tugged on the end and brought Chosen straight to him.

To anyone, this was a clear message to Vic’s capabilities with working with tools, but what stood out to me was the scene that happens immediately after.

Chosen starts attempting to flee from Vic, dazed and already pinned, and Victim?

.. He cracks the whip, showing his strength behind the hit, the anger. The camera then slowly zooms in on Chosen-

Its this slow, subtle rise in music that we suddenly understand what’s going on. Chosen knows who this is now, Chosen suddenly remembers exactly who this is.

Everyone has been joking about how Farmer Vic’s home is about to get nuked by fire in the next AVA drop, but if that is the context: Everything lines up.

Victim having a reason to hurt Chosen, Chosen not even remembering who Victim is despite destroying his home, Victim’s cold reaction to seeing the Dark Lord getting nuked by Second(Orange) in the scene where it shows his death.

Everything suddenly makes sense. Victim isn’t just attacking Chosen because he can.

Victim isn’t just getting his revenge on Alan.

He is shaming the god who hurt his friends. The animals, the sticks who took Victim in upon his first fall down to the lands he’s now stuck in.

He was casted by his god to die, but was saved by strangers. He was given a home with cattle and lamb, given food and comfort. For once in his life he was safe and free from pain.

Then Chosen and Dark came along, born from the same god that had casted Victim aside. The same god who now unwilling unleashed hell upon the lands.

Victim would have watched his new friends and family burn. He could have watched the horror happen right in front of him. He hates the hollows for what they did, reminding him of his past creator, of his past in general. Filled with grief and sorrows he wished to swallow down, but instead was forced to live with.

So he hatched a plan, one to be seen by us, but in my opinion? He’s already succeeded in half of his plan.

He has humiliated the so-called “God” “, “The Chosen One”, and “The Dark Lord” is dead. Two threats now no longer threats. Now all he needs to do is reach Alan.

.. but then what? What happens when the smoke clears, when Alan is gone? Will he return to his life before? Will he try to leave behind his men and venture on to finally find his peace? Will he feel complete or content with his decisions?

Will he finally feel okay to grieve? To cry for what he has lost? To hold the remains of what was his first real life? Will he feel remorseful to those he hurt along the way? Will he ever say sorry or forgive any who hurt him?

If you ask me, no. I don’t think he ever will say sorry or forgive anyone, and he has a right to. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s crimes. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s wrath. He never deserved to be hurt, he never deserved to be tormented by a god that should have loved him.

Victim deserved to be happy. He deserved to have friends, play games, venture to new lands, see the beauty of life and enjoy it. He deserved to be held as he cried, hugged closely when scared, and protected when threatened.

Victim, Vic, deserved to live, and not suffer.

but because of Alan’s actions, because of Dark and Chosen’s actions, he does.

and now it’s no longer Vic who’s becoming the Victim.

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Little Treats

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 5)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

A/n: This update is a bit longer again, I hope you like it <3

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 2.95k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

Levi strode to your room without hesitation. His mind was filled with dread at the thought of all the creatively disturbing ways you might have drawn him.

The last one had been traumatizing enough, and you had drawn that as a sample for him. These, you had attempted to keep from him. There was no telling how deranged they would be. The thought made his steps quicken with urgency. He would make you hand them over. Better yet, he would make you burn them all.

He reached your door and knocked. There was no answer. Frowning, he knocked harder, calling your name.

The door opened just a crack. A face appeared, peering suspiciously out into the hallway. Her eyes widened in recognition when they met his.

"Captain Levi? Is that you?"

The door swung open completely, revealing a woman in a dressing gown squinting up at him in the dim light of the hallway. It was Nifa, one of your roommates. The room behind her was dark. "What's wrong?"

Only then did he realize what time it was. He scowled, cursing you under his breath while trying to think up an excuse to get out of this situation.

The young scout in front of him flinched. "I'm going to get her. Just a moment, please." Before he could protest, Nifa was gone again. He blew out a breath, defeated.

It took quite some time until you stumbled into the hallway, pushed by two other scouts. They immediately closed the door behind you to prevent you from going back inside.

"No fair", you mumbled, sleepily fumbling with the door handle. When the door didn't budge, you leaned on it instead, resting your head against the door frame. Your eyes were still closed.

Levi watched as you slowly slid down against the door. He cleared his throat. You didn't react, continuing your journey toward the floor. He sighed and took a step forward to wrap an arm around your waist, preventing you from falling.

Your head fell forward against his shoulder. "Hmm..." You sagged against him with a satisfied hum. "Bed," you murmured into his shirt.

"No," Levi said.

You muttered something unintelligible, muffled by the fabric. Then you snaked an arm around him, pulling him even closer. Levi stood very still. He had never been this close to you before. Your body was soft and still warm from sleep.

You sighed softly into his shoulder.

"Stop it. You're drooling."

"… Levi?" Your voice was a raspy whisper. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, like you had only just noticed he was there. "Is it time for tea?"

"No. Go back to bed."

"Okay." Your body grew limb again. Levi sighed.

He carefully removed the arm you had wrapped around him and pulled away from you, steadying you with one hand and knocking with the other. The door opened instantly to the two women from earlier. He recognized them from Mike's squad, but couldn't recall their names. They shot him a long and curious glance. He could see Nifa standing behind them, barely visible in the darkness of the room.

"Go back inside," Levi told you and gave you a small push in the right direction. You plodded over to the women, who steered you back to your bed.

"Good night", he muttered before swiftly walking away.

�� –

You woke up from someone shaking you by the shoulders. It was your roommate Nanaba.

"Just five more minutes", you mumbled, trying to free yourself from her grip.

"You wish! You already slept through your alarm. Again, might I add."

You grumbled something incomprehensible in return, refusing to open your eyes.

Nanaba let go of you. "Like I thought. It's one of those days. That leaves us with only one option." She turned to the woman beside her. "Lynne, is it ready?"

Lynne nodded and handed her a cup filled with a steaming, dark liquid. Nanaba brought it up to your nose, using her free hand to fan the steam into your nostrils.

You perked up immediately, snatching the cup from her to take a sip. "For me?" you asked only after you had already entirely downed its scalding hot content. "You shouldn't have. In bed? What a service. That's so nice of you." Usually you were the one to prepare the tea in the morning. Your definition of morning, anyway, since you always set your alarm to the latest possible time.

"It's fine," Nanaba said with a wave of her hand. "I think we can all use some help getting up today."

"I still can't believe how Captain Levi woke us all up yesterday night." Lynne yawned. "Took me so long to fall asleep again after that."

Nifa turned to you. "Yeah, what did he want? He seemed kind of angry."

"Beats me. I must've slept through it." You stretched.

"Um, no you didn't. You talked to him. "

"I did? Huh." You scratched your head. "Are you sure? Cause I can't remember."

"Yeah I'm sure. I was the one who had to drag you out of your bed for it."

"Huh."

"I really thought it must be an emergency, but he only ended up talking to you for like, two minutes or something. And you went right back to sleep, after it, too."

"Okay…?" Now your curiosity was piqued. "I wonder what it was about…I better go and ask him!"

You jumped out of bed and headed for the door.

Nanaba caught you by the hem of your pyjama shirt. "Maybe get dressed first?"

You stopped and looked down at yourself. "Oh. Yeah, I probably should," you admitted sheepishly.

"Though it's not like he hasn't seen her like that before," Nifa giggled.

"True," you said. "Still, I should look proper. I've got to train the new cadets later today." You put on your scout's uniform.

"Of course you should look proper. You're on your way to meet Captain Levi," Lynne said, also giggling.

"Yeah? What about it. I see him every day," you said, not understanding what all the fuss was about.

"You do?" Lynne sounded doubtful.

"Of course, for tea time."

"Are you saying…that you have tea with him every day?"

"Yep." You buttoned up your shirt.

"What?? Since when? How have you never mentioned that before?" Lynne's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

You shrugged. "Since sometime after my birthday, I think? I guess it just didn't come up."

"You gotta be kidding," Nifa said.

"I'm not. This is tea we're talking about," you said with a solemn expression.

"This is Levi we're talking about!" Lynne all but shouted.

"Yes, and...?" you asked, a bit confused.

"And you should have told us about it!" Lynne exclaimed.

"You were the one who told me to stop talking about tea all the time…" you muttered, pouting. "How is this different?"

"It is completely different," Lynne said in exasperation.

"It's not."

"It is, too."

"More importantly," Nifa said, interrupting your bickering, "Do you really plan on meeting him this way?" She gestured at your shirt.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" You were growing more confused by the second. They didn't usually comment on your clothing.

"There's a stain on your uniform."

You bent your chin down to get a better look at it. "Oh, that. I got some tea on it while I was folding the laundry. I swear it's a fresh shirt." You rubbed at it with your thumb.

Nifa shook her head. "That won't do at all. Here, take one of mine." She handed you a neatly folded shirt out of the dresser.

"Thanks," you said, a bit surprised by their unusual behavior. "Though I don't think it's necessary…"

"Nonsense. You know how Captain Levi can get."

"Fine, if you insist." You put on the new shirt. "I still think you're overreacting."

"They definitely are," Nanaba piped up. "I don't understand them either. But then again, we should be used to it by now. They always get this way when it comes to him." She smirked.

"Shut up," Lynne said. "We are being perfectly reasonable. Just because you have a weird taste in men doesn't mean–"

"My taste is perfectly fine," Nanaba cut in. "Just because I prefer taller men–"

"The problem isn't that he's tall, it's that he's weird. The way he sniffs everything like a dog–"

"Take that back right now! How can you talk like that about our superior! Just because he has a good nose–"

"Aaand they're at it again. This could take a while. It's their classic Mike vs. Levi debate. You should go before they drag you into this," Nifa told you in a low voice.

You chuckled. "Yep, I better run."

– –

For once you actually remembered to knock on his office door, but you still tore it open without waiting for an answer.

"Good morning! I hope you don't mind the intrusion so early." It wasn't even that early anymore.

Levi looked up from his work with a disgruntled look on his face, making it clear that he, in fact, did mind the intrusion. You took no notice, plopping down on the chair opposite him with a cheerful smile.

"So, about last night…" you started, making his eyes snap to yours. "This is a bit embarrassing," you continued, oblivious to the way his gaze seared into your face. "But I don't actually remember what you said to me. You did talk to me, right? My roommates told me you came by, and I know it was probably very important, but I don't remember a thing. I'm sorry. I must have still been half-asleep or something."

"More than half," Levi muttered. He was looking down at his desk, his expression flat.

"I'm sorry?" you asked.

He didn't answer. You looked at him curiously.

"Soo, what was it about? I'm sorry I forgot. Please just tell me again, I swear I will remember it this time."

"The same way you remembered my order?" His tone was sharp.

You stared at him blankly. "What order?"

"The drawings of me. I know that you still have some. Where–"

"Ahh I just remembered I have something very important to do. So sorry. I will see you later." You got up very quickly, almost knocking over the chair.

Levi also stood up. "And what would that important thing be?" he asked coolly. Before you knew it, he was between you and the door. Damn, he really was fast.

"You know…Erwin asked me to help him with his paperwork. And then I also promised Hange to clean the lab with them. And that's all on top of my usual duties, like training the new cadets this afternoon. So you see, I am very busy."

You gave him an apologetic smile while you inched towards the door. If you made a dash for it, maybe you would be able to make it.

"So I take it you will be too busy for teatime today, too?"

You gasped. "Not that busy."

"That's what I thought. I am sure Erwin will understand if you start a little later then. Why don't we ask him right now?"

Levi walked to the door. You scrambled after him. "That won't be necessary…"

He didn't listen, already marching to Erwin's office. By the time you got there, he was knocking on his door.

"Come in," the commander said.

"Erwin", Levi said, staying in the doorway, "Do you mind if I borrow her for 10 minutes before she helps you with your pesky paperwork?"

Erwin looked up at him with knitted brows. "I'm sorry, who are you talking about?"

You squeezed past Levi. "Me. I promised I would help you with your paperwork, remember?" You gave him a pointed look.

He raised his eyebrows in response. "All of it," you said motioning at the stacks of papers which took up most of his desk.

"Ah, yes. That's very nice of you," Erwin said slowly, still looking at you with a puzzled expression. You nodded furiously.

"I should begin right away." You started for his desk, rolling up your sleeves.

"There is no need. Didn't Levi need you for something first?"

Shoot.

"That's right," Levi said.

You shot him a dirty look, but you had no choice but to follow him out of Erwin's office.

"And did you say Hange–"

"Fine. I do have some drawings of you," you begrudgingly conceded, before he could make you go to Hange, too. "But I swear I had them for a while. You see, they are simply remnants of stock from before you ordered me not to do them anymore. What was I supposed to do with them?" You looked at him with big, pleading eyes.

"Hand them over."

"But Levi–"

"Hand them over." He was scowling.

You exhaled loudly, accepting your fate. "Fine. They're in my room."

"Let's go to your room, then."

You trudged after him as he made his way down the stairs. This was bad. Really bad. The shirtless-drawings-of-Levi type of bad.

You reached your room before you were able to come up with a solution. Levi stood in front of the door with his arms crossed. He was looking at you expectantly.

"Before you see them, you should know that all of these were commissions. Someone described to me very clearly what they had in mind, I simply helped them put it to paper. So in a way I was but a mere tool to help them get the message across, you know? And you know how they say: don't shoot the messenger."

You laughed nervously, but it didn't look good for you. Your rambling had only made the frown on his face deepen further.

You let out a big sigh. "Okay," you said as you opened the door with sweaty palms. You entered with Levi close behind you.

"Fine! Maybe Mike is only humanity's second strongest soldier, but he is by far the hottest! I would choose him over Levi any day!" Nanaba was shouting at Lynne.

"Um, guys?" you said. They turned to you. Nanaba went pale. Lynne went red. Neither of them said another word. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of the door falling shut behind you.

"I should really learn how to knock, huh."

The two women just stared at you, aghast. Nifa was nowhere to be seen. You glanced at Levi, who stood next you with an unreadable expression.

"Don't mind me and Levi here. We'll just be a second," you continued, walking over to your bed and throwing your pillow and blanket onto the floor.

Now it wasn't just the women who were dumbfounded.

You flipped over your mattress. "I know it's a lame hiding place," you said as you retrieved a brown paper envelope.

You opened it, pulling out a few sheets of paper, and started flipping through them. You grimaced. It was worse than you had remembered. Levi didn't wear a shirt in any of them.

When you got to the last one, you froze. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath. It was a piece you had planned to give Petra for her birthday as a surprise. Of all the drawings in the envelope, it was by far the tamest. Yet it was the only one you just couldn't allow him to see.

Your eyes shifted to Levi. He was looking at you with hawk eyes. There was no way you would be able to make it disappear unnoticed.

You separated the drawing from the rest and slipped the others back into the envelope, letting them stick out enough that his face was visible on the first one. "Here you go," you said and held it out to him.

"What about that one?" He pointed at the piece of paper you still had in your hands.

"That one's not of you," you said, pressing it to your chest protectively, with its blank backside facing in his direction.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Show it to me."

"No."

He stretched out his hand. You backed away. "I'm allowed to have my privacy."

Levi huffed. He was coming closer. This left you with no choice.

You scrunched up the paper into a tiny ball and shoved it into your mouth. It tasted awful. You chewed on it frantically.

"What the hell?" Levi glared at you. "Spit it out."

You swallowed. "Too late. Unless you want me to throw it up for you?"

He scoffed.

It was such a shame about the drawing, though. You had put in a lot of time and effort. But there was nothing you could have done: the drawing hadn't just depicted Levi. Petra had been on it, too, standing really close to him, holding his hand. It was fine if he got mad at you, but you didn't want him to get mad at her. It would break her heart. You couldn't let that happen. So you had done what you had to.

You looked over to your roommates. Lynne was covering her mouth in shock. Nanaba was trying her best to hold in a laugh.

"What? I was hungry. I didn't have breakfast yet."

"Help yourself, there's plenty more where that came from," Levi deadpanned, holding out the envelope.

"No thanks. These are nice little treats, but they're not the healthiest."

"Nice little treats, you say?" He pulled out the topmost drawing from the envelope. His deadpan expression slipped, eyes widening in shock. You covered your eyes with your fingers. When you warily peeked through them, he was already glowering at you, wearing the worst scowl you had ever seen on him.

"Into my office. Now."

You sighed. Here we go again.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui , @shakysif

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Cream

Adar x Reader | SMUT🔞

Adar's pregnant lover aches, and Adar offers relief and gets himself a treat while doing so.

A cup of fluffy, steaming hot milky goodness for anon~

Grumbling you paced through the rugged wartent you called home. Your entire body hurt when you didn't spend your time sleeping. But sleep wouldn't come when not a single position you laid in pullee at yoir muscles without Adar offering the needed support. The rolls of fur were just not doing the trick.

"My moon, what is keeping you up this late?" Adar had walked in on you waddling around the house, a hand on your large belly and one at the small of your back. "Come, to bed with you." He tossed his gauntlet aside and stepped behind you, his back leaning against the remains of a brick wall with you pulled against him. His hands found the underside of your belly and lifted ir just the smallest bit, instantly relieving tension on your body and earning a satisfied sigh from you.

Adar's lips were at your ear, pressing soft kisses to the shell. "I know you feel discomfort, it will be over soon."

He loved you. All of you. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and now the full moon as well.

Adar let you rest against him for a little while longer before taking you to bed. Way too soft for him nowadays but it brought you comfort, and with that thought he managed to get the small amount he needed and even a little more some nights, tangled in each others' limbs.

Adar rid himself of armor and cloth, leaving him in just trousers as he laid down beside you. Yet still with each movement you groaned in discomfort, wanting to curl up away from him, even with Adar's everlasting patience when it came to discussing more intimate topics.

The truth was, Adar loved you so much he spent days preparing foods for you, seeing which ones you could keep down. He washed you from head to toe, cleaned the vomit off your garment and out of your hair during your early months.

He didn't need to speak words aloud, his eyes spoke for him.

"My chest is sore.." You mumbled under your breath, not daring to look at him where je laid beside you, propped up on his elbow as his free hand found hip. "I tried massaging like you do when I ache but it hurts. And leaks.."

You saw Adar perk up at your last words, a soft smile on his lips as his hand moved to undo the string that held your dress together to take a closer look. Not that he needed a reason to undress you, ever. You'd let him.

With the neckline widened enough he pushed the dress off your shoulders, gently helping your arms out of the fabric and let it hang loose under your chest.

With careful touches he held your breast, his thumb rubbing around it to inspect. Apologies sounded as you whined in discomfort, and with each soft press Adar watched white fluid run down his fingers.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Adar spoke in a voice calm and comforting, his dull blue eyes looking up at you and pressing a kiss to the top of your breast.

"Your body is overproducing. Do you wish for my help to lessen the pain?" Without really thinking of it he licked his fingers clean and watched you nod, asking for his help.

With a nod of his own in return he lowered his head to your chest, mouth open and tongue out to lap at your nipple. A soft gasp of surprise sounded from you, but that didn't stop him from moving on to wrap his lips around it and suck.

It felt strange, the gentle tug each time he sucked and drank from you. Every fiber in your body said it was wrong, to let him do this, but it felt good.

It felt good and you felt loved. His actions might have been considered taboo among your kind, but the uruk were different. And oh, how Adar's tongue flicked over your pebbled nipple inbetween sucking on it so delicately was making you feel good.

Maybe even almost as good as he was, feeling his hard cock press against your thigh. One hand found his hair as the other drew patterns over his back. Soft sighs and moans sounded through the air, with your fingers tangled at Adar's roots tugging as his fingers found your wet folds and slicked his fingerpads and tease your clit.

"Hah-- ohh Adarr." You mewled as he let go of your nipple with a wet pop. "P.. please, don't stop.. Feels so good.."

"Oh, I am nowhere near done, my moon. Relax and let me care for you." Adar's attention moved to your other breast, where he repeated the motion of flicking his tongue before starting to suckle. This time being less careful and moaning as he tasted you. "Oh my love, I fear once our child is born I will be jealous they get to do this every day.." His hips rolled against your thigh, rutting to create some desperately needed friction. The way you whined and mewled as he rubbed circles on your clit and the taste of your milk on his tongue was almost overwhelming. He was now riding your thigh in the proces of easing your discomfort with his mouth and fingers.

"You may have a taste, whenever you wish.." You moaned when his fingers spread more of your slick all over your sensitive bud, bucking your hips up against his hand and tugging hard at his hair. Your walls clenched around nothing at a harsh press of Adar's fingers. You were close, and so was Adar going off the sounds he made.

"You make me feel s.. so good, love." You stuttered through your sentence as you crept closer to your climax, finding Adar's ear tip to rub between your fingers.

With a couple more ruts, rubs, sucks and sighs Adar pulled his mouth off your breast and moved to press his lips flush against yours just as his fingers pulled an orgasm from you. The sensation of your own milk flowing into your mouth through Adar's lips only amplified your high, sending pure bliss through your entire body. You barely came down when Adar's hips stilled against your thigh with a groan, entirely satisfied and ready to pass out.

Panting, Adar looked up at you. "Has the ache faded?" His eyes followed your head lolling back onto the plush of the bed with a smile. "Yes, Adar. It has, thank you."

A satisfied hum left him then, arms snaking around your frame as he settled, careful to give you enough space to get comfortable and wrap himself around you for support.

"Good night, my moon."

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Comfort

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Light mention of politics, fluff

Length: 494

Summary: Bucky comforts you during your time in need.

A/N: Normally I’m not one to be overly vocal about my beliefs, but after the shit show that was the election, I can’t not be. If you know me, I believe that everyone deserves rights, no matter who they are, how they identify, who they love, etc. The type of hate that we see now is only going to increase and I cannot stand by and not say anything. My page will always be a safe space for everyone, no matter what. I wrote this partially to comfort myself, but now I am posting it for everyone else who also needs this. To my friends who are going to be affected by this, I am so sorry that this country has failed you. I am sorry that your rights will be affected by this. I am sorry that people carry this immense amount of hate and don’t know how to mind their own business. Know this; My page will be a safe space for you to be yourself, even in this horrible time. You have someone in your corner who will not judge you and cares for your overall well being. We may not know each other, but I support you.

This is not proofread, I just wanted to put this out.

I do not consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You lay in your bed, thinking about life. It’s a tough pill to swallow. There are no words to describe the devastation you feel for your friends and family. You continue to stare up at the ceiling, thinking about how much you wished Bucky was home.

Bucky had left a few days prior on a mission. While it shouldn’t be much longer, you still wished he was home. You wished that you could lay in his arms and cry while he held you, telling you that he would do everything in his power to try to help you.

You are so lost in thought, you don’t hear the front door to your apartment open. 

Bucky quietly opens the door, hoping to not disturb you. He gently locks the door and takes off his boots, leaving them by the front door. Alpine is the first to greet him, rubbing against his leg. 

Bucky picks her up to pet her, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “Hey girl, is she still in bed?”

Alpine purrs to say yes and rubs herself on Bucky’s chest. Bucky frowns slightly but he knew you would be like this. He walks to your shared bedroom, knocking on the door.

“Doll?” He asks tentatively.

Your heart jumps before you turn your head. “Hey, Buck.” You whisper with a small smile and tears in your eyes.

Bucky gently puts Alpine on the bed and cuddles up right next to you. “I’m so sorry, Doll.”

You only nod your head and turn your body to be engulfed by him, wrapping your leg around his waist. “You just being here is helping.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, only rubbing your back and kissing your temple as you cry in his arms. If there was anything he could do, he would do it. But that’s not possible and he wants to destroy everything because of it.

“I got you, Doll. You can cry, scream, punch, do whatever you need to do.”

You shake your head. “I just need to be with you.”

Bucky nods. “Then we can lay here and waste the day away. Have you eaten?”

You shake your head once more. “No.”

Bucky frowns slightly. “Doll, you need to eat. It’s almost 3 pm.” Alpine meows in agreement.

“I know, I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed.” You reach for Alpine and she lays between you and Bucky, purring at her favorite humans.

“Ok, well do you want to order food?”

You shake your head and scrunch your face. “I feel like if I eat, I’m going to throw up.”

Bucky looks you in the eyes. “Baby, I know. But you have to eat. How about I make you some toast? It’ll fuel you and isn’t super heavy.”

You nod. “Yeah, ok.”

Bucky kisses your forehead. “I know Doll, but we’ll get through this. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you’ll be ok.”

[myusuchaa]

desired by the queen of greed ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Halloween Chaotic Night Story Event

This is a fan translation and may not be 100% accurate. I do not own anything. Cybird reserves the right of ownership for all in-game content.

After it was determined that the essence of the Queen of the Night flower was used in the food, a strange transformation happened to Lord Elbert.

His breaths were shallow, and his face occasionally showed an expression of pain.

Elbert: Could you possibly... take me to your room.. please?

Kate: Ah, of course. Hold on to me on the way there.

Supporting Elbert along the entire way, we eventually reached my room. By the time we arrived there--

--his appearance had completely changed.

His fox-like ears and fluffy tail donned the same beautiful golden color as his hair.

These features made his beauty even more ephemeral, more fantastical... incomparable to any regular human of this world.

In exchange for his new appearance, his breathing gradually became more regular.

(Thank goodness... he seems to have calmed down for now. However...)

(This look of his... while strange, it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, it's quite a lovely sight.)

Elbert, who was sitting on my bed, slowly raised his head and caught my gaze as I moved to sit next to him.

Kate: Lord Elbert, how are you feeling? You're not experiencing any pain, are you?

I asked this softly, and he lightly shook his head no.

Elbert: ......I'm alright. I'm sorry for worrying you.

Elbert: More importantly.... what are you staring at?

Kate: O-oh... no, I'm so sorry.

Kate: Your ears and tail are so.... so cute, so beautiful..

When I told him my honest thoughts, his eyes softened with joy.

Elbert: ....And you, staring at me, are just as beautiful.

Kate: Even so..... I think it would be best if I still take you to be treated, just in case.

Elbert: No, that would be quite the opposite of the best thing.

Elbert: ......Your room is more than fine. Being here is so... calming.

Elbert: Here in this room, all of these items..... everything that you have.

Elbert: Being surrounded by the essence of you is satisfying to no end.

Elbert: Even the air floating in this space....

He took a very deep breath, and it seemed that he was filling up his lungs to the fullest capacity with the air around him, as if to savor it.

Elbert: Everything of yours in this room..... belongs to me.

Those ocean blue eyes of his were growing darker and dimmer.

It was as if I was staring into a sea so deep and endless, that no light reached the bottom.

Kate: ...um.. Lord.. Elbert?

The extraordinary presence that was his aura at that moment was so powerful, it rendered me immovable.

Elbert: This..... nightgown... is this what you wore last night?

Kate: Ah..

The dress that should have remained folded neatly next to my pillow was somehow in his hands.

He then smiled as he picked up my nightgown into his arms and dreamily rubbed his cheeks against the fabric, enchanted by the feeling.

Kate: Uhm... Elbert, th-that's... embarrassing...

His eyes slowly shifted toward me and trailed down, stopping at my lap.

Elbert: ....And that single strand of hair that just fell...

He gently reached out to the hair on my lap and picked it up as if it were a treasure.

He placed it in between his beautiful lips and, with a look of ecstasy, suckled on it, savoring the taste.

(.......nngh)

He played with my hair for a while and then let out a sigh.

Elbert: *sighing* ... I wish I could eat your hair, too.

Kate: El----- Elbert !?

(This surely must be...)

Elbert's greed was on the rise... or so I had thought.

(I never thought it could get this bad...)

Even before tonight, I had seen him yearn for anything that was mine, or related to me, countless times.

But now, his insatiable greed has overwhelmed him--.

I find myself filling with pleasure, knowing I was being desired so.

Suddenly, Elbert's eyes grew wide.

Elbert: ...Aah, but..... if I were to eat it, I could no longer admire it.

Elbert: ....A part of Kate becomes a part of me.... an act I never quite wished to happen and yet.. I can obtain it just like this..

He was staring at my hair strand with a heartbroken and conflicted look on his face.

Kate: Lord Elbert! I'm here with you, now, in the flesh... I'll always be by your side.... so don't worry.

Kate: If it's something of my own... I'll give you as much of it as I can.

(I want to share all of Elbert's suffering.)

I hugged him as tightly as I could to convey my feelings for him.

Elbert: Mm.... Kate..

He hugged me back with great strength and exhaled slowly.

Elbert: ... I'm sorry for making you worry.

Elbert: I can't stop feeling more attached to you than usual... to everything related to you.

Elbert: ......that's why..

His arms tightened around me even more as we collapsed back onto the bed.

Elbert: ...even your breath.. will be from me... [1]

Kate: --nnghh--

A kiss so deeply penetrating, it stole my breath away.

As if eating away at me with greed, he completely enclosed his lips around mine, sucking on them slowly.

He traced my lips with his tongue, licking from corner to corner.

Elbert: Here..... so this is where your beautiful smile is born from. [2]

Elbert: I... I can't stop wanting to seek out more of it.

Kate: Mmmnn.. aah..

Elbert: Your face when you're in pain.... those trembling eyelashes...

Whispering seductively, he kissed the tip of my nose, my eyelashes, and my forehead.

Elbert: What you take in..... what you create... and what spills out of you....

Elbert: ...I want to taste every bit of what is yours...

Elbert: Every little thing... is mine.

When I came to my senses, my bare skin was exposed, and I was being nipped at gently.

Kate: ...aah-

Elbert: Your sweet breath.... it mingles with my own and melts within me.

Elbert: This room is being filled with my desire.

Elbert: And you.. you are mine alone.

His words tumbled out of his mouth as if he was feverish.

(Of course... I am only yours...)

I happily threw myself into him, being absorbed by Elbert's out of control "greed"---

The tricks [3] we played on that Halloween night were much more of a treat to me than anything else.

fin

a/n: uhhmmm i love him here, the needy pleading.. his pouting baby face urkkk!! *my heart* some translation differences are noted below:

[1] In Japanese, Elbert says 「君の呼吸も...俺を通して...俺を介して. 」

通して : doing something through [blank], act of doing something for a period of time

介して : via, through the medium of

Here, Elbie uses these terms back to back to really enforce the fact that he wants her so completely and wholly, that his moves are her moves, his thoughts are her thoughts etc. So even her own breath is his, and his breath is hers... Literal translation: Your breathing is through me.. [your breath] comes from me.

[2] He uses 生まれる to explain the abstract 'birth' or generation/fruition of her smile, versus the other use 産む which is used more plainly for actually giving birth.

[3] They placed the katakana for 'trick' over 悪戯, which means a type of teasing prank or mischief. The nuance of this line is that even though these out of the norm things are happening on a spooky night, she wasn't scared, and rather enjoyed herself with Elbie hehe.

page dividers from @/adornedwithlight

also TY BESTIE @/aeyumi for helping with the banner LMAO lost without u~

[hellsitedotcom]

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*·˚ FIRST KISS HEADCANONS : PART ONE *·˚

ft. Aventurine, Moze.

My brain doesn't work properly, which means I ain't happy with anything I write when it comes to prompts/longer drabbles, so here's another round of Headcanons 'cause, uhhh, I had a random thought. (Unfortunately cursed to have those) EDIT: This...escalated a tiiiiiny bit, buuuut (as much as I hate my writing) I don't rlly mind.

*·˚ warnings/info: well, there's obviously going to be mentions of kissing; mentions of alcohol/drinking (Aventurine); Sunday's escalated so much, I had to make it a separate post lol. *·˚ english isn't my native language!

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⭒˚｡⋆ Aventurine ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ I'll be frank: It probably happened while you were both drinking, just ''unwinding'' and ending up having a rather good time. You were sat at a bar way longer than you should've - the employees really just wanted to get home, but you two just...weren't leaving.

⇢ You were sat further away, obscured by room dividers, only your voices audible to anyone else. Aventurine had been teasing you since you agreed to go drink something with him, and now you were both at a point at which he felt like...taking risks.

⇢ He had asked you for a simple game of poker, winner gets granted a wish - but the loser will only find out what the winner wants after the game; were you in, or were you out? And you, slightly drunk, agreed after only a few seconds. What could possibly go wrong?

⇢ And he won - of course he did. What else did you expect? But you were laughing, joking how you had nearly beat him; still in a good mood, you waited for him to tell you his wish - his ''demand''; and he did, your eyes widening for mere seconds, before you granted it.

''Royal Flush,'' Aventurine triumphantly laughed, displaying the cards on the table between you, ''I win, sunshine.'' You just groaned, though you didn't hide the amusement in your expression, ''Oh, you definitely rigged that. There's no way, come on.'' ''Well, at least I almost got you,'' you added more quietly, chuckling while he collected all the cards you had used. ''I simply don't lose,'' he countered, smirking at you as he leaned closer, a motion you followed curiously, ''I thought you would've noticed by now.'' You merely scoffed, rolling your eyes without hiding your smile, ''Sure, sure, Mr. Gambler.'' ''You just got lucky,'' you hummed in a teasing manner, leaning further across the table, ''So, what's your wish?'' Aventurine held your gaze, unwavering, and even in the dim lighting of the bar, you could tell that he was thinking. A part of you wanted to regret agreeing to this, but the other part - the louder part - only grew more intrigued. For a moment, his eyes dropped to your lips - so quickly that you thought you had imagined it - before his lips parted, your eyes widening the slightest bit at his words, ''How about a kiss?'' You could feel your face heat up, a wave of different emotions momentarily taking over your expression before you collected yourself again. ''Just a kiss?'' you repeated, making sure you had heard him right. ''Just a kiss,'' Aventurine confirmed, slightly tilting his head, ''Only if you're comfortable, that is.'' Silence settled after that, your mind still processing his wish. Despite how lost in your thoughts you were, you could notice Aventurine grow...unsure? No, that wasn't really it... You were taking too long, and the man was beginning to wonder if you would back out. And just as he was about to repeat himself, making sure you knew that you didn't have to kiss him if you didn't want to, you crossed the space between the two of you, your lips crashing against his. You weren't even thinking, merely acting on instinct...on a feeling deep inside you, an urge you had been fighting for months. The second your lips had touched his, all your restrain had vanished, and Aventurine didn't seem to be feeling any different as he reciprocated your kiss, a hand coming up to rest on your neck, pulling you even closer. Neither of you could get enough, your hands resting on the table between, but all good things have to come to an end, don't they? As you tried moving even closer, breathless from the things he was doing to you, a loud buzzing noise interrupted the two of you, making you pull apart. ''The IPC...'' Aventurine groaned, visibly annoyed as he stared at his phone screen. He had to take the call, you both knew it. And, before the man could decide if he was willing to take another risk by pressing on decline, the bar staff came up to you, informing you that it was time to leave for you anyway...

⇢ You didn't sleep much that night, or the nights that followed, your mind too busy replaying that kiss over and over again. The next time you saw Aventurine again, neither of you mentioned the night at the bar, though from the way he looked at you alone, you knew you weren't the only one unable to forget it.

⭒˚｡⋆ Moze ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ This came to me in a prophetic dream (listening to music & daydreaming), and I am a firm believer that your first kiss happened...on accident, almost. In a situation that...how did it even come to that?

⇢ You were sat beside him, hiding in the ''shadows'' away from everyone else while Moze was patrolling the area. There...wasn't really a need to do it, but it was Moze, so you didn't really question it. And while he was taking all of this seriously, you were just...laying in the sunlight, having a wonderful time.

⇢ At one point, you had just started talking, asking brief questions or sharing thoughts with him, which he - though somewhat reluctantly - replied to. Eventually, you'd even gotten him to learn over to you, and as you held his gaze in that moment, it just...came over you.

⇢ Maybe it was the fact that you were having a good day, the sunlight making you feel so alive and full of energy. Or, maybe it simply was the man's captivating presence, making you feel like you were admiring a painting. Regardless of the reason, the urge to learn in had taken over.

''I mean, I guess I just don't understand it,'' you rambled, emphasizing your confusion with your hands, ''Why make everything so much more complicated than it has to be, you know? Artisans can be a really odd bunch.'' You were lying on your back, staring up at the sunny sky as waterfall after waterfall of thoughts fell from your lips, when Moze suddenly leaned over, allowing his arm to rest beside your head. ''You talk too much,'' he huffed expressionlessly, making you fall silent as you dragged your eyes up to meet his gaze. ''Maybe you just don't talk enough,'' you quipped back, your lips twitching in amusement, ''Besides, if it bothered you, you wouldn't have stuck around me this long. We both know that.'' The man just grunted, focusing back on the crowd underneath you, ''Just try to be more quiet. I'm not helping you if we get spotted.'' ''Of course,'' you hummed, not believing a word he was saying, earning you another discontent grunt from him. Your smile just grew at that, eyes still glued to the man standing beside you. ''Just admit it, big guy,'' you teased, slightly tilting your head to get a better look at him, ''You enjoy my company.'' That made Moze turn back again, violet eyes boring into yours as he leaned over once again, making a swarm of butterflies awaken in your stomach, ''Is that so?'' His face was mostly obscured by shadows, hidden by the hood he always wore while you laid in the sun, yet her gentle warmth was entirely forgotten as you held the man's gaze, ''Tell me I'm wrong?'' Moze was quiet, just watching you wordlessly. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but you realized the longer you stared at him, the less you cared about his answer to your counter. You were too busy getting lost in a daydream, drowning in his eyes, when a sudden urge came over you. What if you just-? Your inner voice didn't even need to finish the question, your body moving on its own as you propped yourself up, not even giving the man any time to react as you pressed your lips against his. Moze seemed to freeze under your touch, unmoving at first, until you felt his hand rest against your chin, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His patrol all but forgotten, the man's lips began moving against yours until you pulled away to catch your breathe, your heart racing. ''I-'' You wanted to say something, but your mind, despite the hurricane of thoughts tormenting it, couldn't form a coherent sentence, so you just continued staring at him, eyes searching his expression for anything - any sign that this meant something to him. But you never got that answer as the man took a step back, letting go of you, Moze's expression as blank as a canvas. He was still looking at you, watching as your previously cheery expression began to falter, yet he remained quiet as you struggled to find the right words.

⇢ You didn't get any reaction out of Moze that day, nor did you ever calm down enough to actually say something to him in that moment. Eventually, Moze merely continued his patrol, telling you he needed to move to the next location before disappearing without waiting for a reply.

⇢ Since then, you've been...well, on one hand you've been trying to avoid him, but on the other hand, you still hoped you would catch a glimpse of him regardless of where you went. And, while you thought he probably never thought about the moment you shared, Moze felt the exact same way as you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[throwaway-things]

In the silence

The gentle hum of the BAU office buzzed around you, blending with the rhythmic typing of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation. You sat at your desk, your heart betraying a steady pace as you stole a glance at Spencer Reid. He was absorbed in a file, his brows furrowed in concentration, fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. You admired how his mind seemed to race, faster than anyone else’s, solving problems in a way that felt almost magical. And yet, as brilliant as he was, you could never imagine him knowing your secret.

You had been harboring feelings for Spencer for longer than you cared to admit. The connection, at least on your side, had grown deeper over time. He was kind, intelligent, and so utterly unaware of the effect he had on you. You were careful—so careful—never to give any hint, knowing that revealing how you felt could change everything. Your heart was fragile enough without risking his rejection.

But Spencer Reid was not like everyone else. He saw things others missed, read people like they were open books. And though you had perfected the art of hiding, you knew, deep down, that no secret was safe from him forever.

One afternoon, while working together on a particularly difficult case, you noticed Spencer watching you out of the corner of your eye. It wasn’t the usual friendly glance, but something more intense. You tried to ignore it, focused on your work, but the sensation of being scrutinized sent your nerves into overdrive.

"Are you okay?" His voice startled you, gentle yet probing. You looked up to find his eyes—those deep, observant eyes—studying you. He wasn’t just asking if you were tired or stressed. It felt like he was asking about something deeper, something unspoken.

"Yeah," you replied quickly, too quickly. "Just focused on the case."

But Spencer didn't let it go. "You've been… different lately," he said softly, almost to himself. "Your body language, the way you avoid eye contact sometimes, the way your voice changes when you're talking to me— its noticeable"

Your heart stopped. He was analyzing you. You’d been so careful, so guarded, and yet, in that moment, you realized it was pointless. Spencer Reid had already figured it out.

"I… I don’t know what you mean," you lied, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of control. But the tremble in your voice gave you away. Spencer leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

"You don’t have to say anything," he said, his tone so calm, so gentle. "I know."

It was like the world shifted beneath your feet. The secret you had carried for so long, that you had convinced yourself could never be known, was out in the open. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly terrified. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back. You refused to cry in front of him.

Spencer shifted awkwardly in his seat, his face flushed with discomfort. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice soft but laden with regret. "I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. If I’ve done anything to make you feel—" He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words. "I care about you, but… not in the way you might want."

The words hit like a physical blow. You were mortified, frozen in place as the blood rushed to your cheeks. Your worst fear had just materialized—he had figured it out, and now he was apologizing. It was worse than any rejection you had ever imagined.

"I—" you stammered, the words dying in your throat as shame engulfed you. You had never meant for him to know. You had never intended to put him in this position, to make things awkward or uncomfortable. But now, there you were, standing in the aftermath of something you had desperately tried to avoid.

Your heart broke, a quiet shattering that left you feeling hollow. Spencer was kind, as you always knew he would be, but it didn’t soften the pain. If anything, it made it worse. His apology wasn’t cruel, but it was final. You wished you could disappear, that you could take back every lingering look, every subtle sign you thought you had hidden so well.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, voice barely audible. You couldn't bear to look at him, the embarrassment too overwhelming. "I… I never meant for you to find out. I never wanted you to know."

Spencer’s brow furrowed, and for a brief second, you thought you saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. "You don’t have to apologize," he said gently. "I just don’t want you to feel hurt because of me."

But you did feel hurt. Hurt, ashamed, and humiliated. You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to cry, not to let him see how devastated you were.

Before you could respond, the door to the conference room opened abruptly. Hotch stood there, clipboard in hand, looking between you and Spencer with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Briefing in five," he said, his tone all business as usual. "We’ve got a new case."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. This was your escape. The interruption couldn’t have come at a better time.

"Thanks, Hotch," you mumbled, quickly rising from your seat and gathering your things. You didn’t dare look back at Spencer, afraid that any more eye contact might make your carefully held composure shatter completely.

As you stepped past Hotch, you could feel Spencer’s eyes following you, but you kept walking, grateful that the professional nature of the job had given you a way out. You needed distance—space to breathe, to process what had just happened without falling apart in front of him.

The hallway seemed longer than usual, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. You blinked back the burning sensation in your eyes, your breath unsteady as you hurried toward the briefing room. There was no time to fall apart now. Work was calling, and you had to focus.

When you entered the room, you were greeted by the usual buzz of the team preparing for the case. Morgan, Garcia, and JJ were already seated, chatting about something you couldn’t quite focus on. You forced a smile and took a seat next to JJ, trying to look as though nothing was wrong, as though your heart wasn’t still aching from the conversation with Spencer.

“Hey, you okay?” JJ asked quietly, giving you a gentle nudge.

You nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yeah, just... a long day."

She smiled sympathetically, but thankfully didn’t press further. You were grateful. The last thing you needed was more questions when you were barely holding it together.

Moments later, Spencer entered the room, taking a seat across from you. You could feel his presence immediately, your pulse quickening as you glanced down at your notes, doing everything you could to avoid looking at him. He, too, seemed more reserved than usual, his expression unreadable as he set his file down.

Hotch began the briefing, and for the next hour, you did your best to focus on the case. It was difficult—your thoughts kept wandering back to Spencer, to his apology, to the crushing embarrassment of knowing that he was aware of your feelings. Every time he spoke, the sound of his voice sent a pang of sadness through your chest, a reminder of what could never be.

The following days passed in a blur. You immersed yourself in the case, using work as an escape from the overwhelming swirl of emotions you were struggling to contain. You avoided Spencer as much as possible, though it became increasingly difficult with every passing moment. The BAU was a tight-knit team, and it was impossible not to interact with him. Each time you had to speak to him or work alongside him, the tension was palpable, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging between you like an invisible barrier.

Spencer, for his part, remained kind and professional. He didn’t treat you any differently, but the subtle shift in your dynamic was undeniable. He seemed more cautious, more distant, as if he, too, was trying to navigate the awkwardness without making things worse. You wondered if he regretted saying anything at all—if he wished he had kept his analysis to himself.

But it didn’t matter now. The damage was done, and you were left picking up the pieces of your broken heart in silence.

--

Late one evening, after another long day of avoiding eye contact and burying your emotions in paperwork, you found yourself alone in the office. The dim lighting and quiet hum of the computer were a welcome respite from the chaos of the case, but your mind kept drifting back to Spencer. You had tried to push your feelings aside, to forget about that conversation, but it was impossible. The pain lingered, raw and unrelenting.

Just as you were about to pack up and leave, the sound of footsteps approached from behind. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice was soft, tentative.

You inhaled sharply, your heart racing. "Hey," you replied, keeping your eyes fixed on the papers in front of you, pretending to be busy.

There was a long pause. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy. Part of you wanted him to leave, to let the silence stretch between you until things faded back into some semblance of normalcy. But another part of you—one you hated to admit—wanted him to stay.

“I, uh… I just wanted to check on you,” he said quietly, stepping closer. "I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant lately."

You let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face him. “Distant? Yeah, well… I guess I thought that might be for the best.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, his expression filled with concern. "I don’t want things to be like this," he admitted. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with that same empathy, and it only made things harder. "I understand if you need space," he said softly. "But I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid me."

But you weren’t ready for this conversation. You weren’t ready to confront the tangled mess of emotions that had been suffocating you for days. You couldn’t handle Spencer’s kindness, not now. Not when the wound was still so fresh.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, your voice a little too sharp, a little too defensive. You turned back to the papers on your desk, pretending to be engrossed in work. "There’s nothing to talk about."

Spencer hesitated, clearly not buying your attempt to brush things off. "I know this has been difficult—"

“Spencer, I said I’m fine.” The words came out harsher than you intended, and you winced at the coldness in your tone. You couldn’t look at him, not now, not when the shame was still burning in your chest.

There was a long, tense silence. You could feel his eyes on you, searching for something, but you kept your gaze glued to the papers in front of you, refusing to meet his. You wanted this conversation to be over, for him to stop trying to dissect your feelings like they were just another puzzle to solve.

"I don’t want to push," Spencer said quietly, taking a small step back. "But I can tell you’re struggling. If there’s anything I’ve done—"

“Spencer, please,” you cut him off, your voice almost pleading now. "Let’s just leave it."

You didn’t want to elaborate, didn’t want to give any hint of what was really going on. You were desperate to keep everything vague and impersonal, to avoid the emotional discussion that was weighing on you. You needed him to walk away, to let the moment pass without probing further.

Spencer stood there, clearly not fully convinced but respecting your wish to drop the subject. "Okay," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "If that’s what you need."

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze. "Yes, that’s what I need."

There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your unspoken truth hanging in the air. You could feel his disappointment, the unspoken tension that lingered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face it. Admitting how you really felt would only make things worse. It would only prolong the pain, and you couldn’t afford that.

Spencer lingered for a moment longer, as if he was about to say something else, but then he nodded quietly. "I’ll let you get back to work," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You simply kept your eyes down, waiting for the sound of his footsteps retreating as he left the room. When the door finally closed behind him, you exhaled sharply, the tension in your body releasing all at once.

You felt sick. Sick with the weight of your own unspoken truth, sick with the realization that you had just pushed him away. The idea of him knowing—of him seeing how much it hurt—was unbearable.

And so, you sat there in the empty office, your heart heavy with the truth you couldn’t bring yourself to say, knowing that, in the end, you were only hurting yourself more.

--

The following days were still a struggle. You continued to immerse yourself in work, using it as a way to avoid confronting your feelings. Spencer was courteous but distant, respecting your need for space. Every time you saw him, the old familiarity was tainted by the unspoken tension.

One afternoon, as you were sorting through case files in the bullpen, you felt a presence behind you. You turned to find Spencer standing there, a hesitant look on his face.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Do you have a minute?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding. “Sure, what’s up?”

Spencer took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever want to talk. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. The sincerity in his voice was both comforting and heartbreaking. You had spent so much time trying to distance yourself from him, but here he was, offering support in the most genuine way.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really appreciate that.”

He smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Anytime.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a mixture of relief and melancholy. You realized that while you couldn’t bring yourself to discuss your feelings openly, knowing that Spencer cared enough to offer support was a small comfort. It was a reminder that even though things had changed, there was still kindness and understanding between you.

As you went about your work, the ache in your heart was still there, but it was slightly eased by the knowledge that you didn’t have to go through it entirely alone. The journey of healing would take time, but Spencer’s gesture gave you a glimmer of hope that, perhaps, things might eventually find a way back to a semblance of normalcy.

[fantasydreamland]

Mine

aemond targaryen x fem tully reader

Mini sequel to Betrothed

Summary: Aemond comes to Winterfell to take back what is rightfully his… you.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, angst, mentions of violence/death, semi public x, no spoilers (death/battle written for the sake of the story)

Word count: 1011

masterlist

The news washes over you like a tidal wave pulling you under. For a moment you feel like you are drowning as your lungs burn. The great battle had finally finished and you just received news that your husband, Cregan Stark, fought and died bravely on the battlefield. Despite his efforts and the other men who fought from the North, the greens emerged victorious.

You stand and excuse yourself from the main hall, pushing past each person offering their condolences. You rush outside towards the snowy godswood, not caring to bring a cloak. You place a hand up against a tree to keep yourself from collapsing as your other hand holds your hyperventilating chest. The tears you were holding back begin to pour freely down your frozen face.

A very distant roar snaps you out of your daze. You look to the skies as loud whooshing sounds get closer and closer. Your jaw drops when you see Vhagar come into sight above the clouds, her size unmistakable. You watch as she descends into the snowy trees of the godswood, not far from where you were standing.

You rush in the direction you saw her land until she comes into view. As you make your way through the trees you see Aemond descend off Vhagar. He notices you as you storm over to him.

“What in seven hells do you think you are doing here?” You snap at him

The audacity for him to just show up here like this after your husband, his enemy, had just died was infuriating.

“I came to take back what was stolen from me.” He glares.

“You assume that because my husband is dead you can just steal me away like nothing has changed?” You scoff.

“Cregan is dead?” He raises his brow. “Well, yes, that does make things easier.”

You scoff again at his response.

“If you did not know that he was dead, how did you plan to steal away a married woman?” You question.

“I would have fed him to Vhagar.” He shrugs.

Without thinking, you slap him across the face which barely seems to phase him as he slightly smirks in response.

“How dare you.” You glare at him.

“I am glad to see being in the cold North has not dimmed your fire.” He smirks at you, creating more anger to rise in your bones.

You raise your hand again but this time he grabs it before you can strike. With your wrist tightly in his grasp he backs you up against a tree, pressing his body against yours. The familiar feeling of his closeness makes your cheeks flush, your icy skin no longer feeling cold from the chilly air.

“Do not pretend you have not thought of me.” He says lowly in your ear, causing goosebumps on your skin. “You have been all I can think about.”

“Aemond…”

“Tell me you wish for me to return to Kings Landing without you. Tell me you do not wish to be with me. Tell me you wish to remain here in the cold North, alone.” His eye meets yours. “And I will let you go.”

You share an intense gaze as you contemplate his words. There was nothing left for you here. You could not pretend he had not often been in the back of your mind. You would never admit the embarrassing truth that even some intimate moments with your husband you had imagined Aemond. All this time aching and yearning for him in secret, and now here he was in front of you.

His eye searches yours for an answer. Instead of speaking you bring your lips to his in a fierce kiss. He instantly lets go of your wrist and moves his hand behind your neck to deepen the kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as your tongues passionately dance together. Aemonds lips move to your neck, causing you to whimper.

“Aemond…” You breathe, your emotions taking over you. “I want you. Right here, right now. Claim what is yours...”

His eye meets yours again as a devilish grin crosses his face. He brings his lips back to yours as he quickly pushes your skirts up to your hips. You yelp as he swiftly lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him. He struggles to untie his pants with one free hand, the other holding you up. You reach down to assist him. A small whine escapes his lips as you pull his painfully hard member out. You only see a glimpse of him before he takes it from your hand and lines himself up to your entrance. He watches your face intently as you slowly sink down onto his cock, mouth agape. He groans while staring deep into your eyes, causing you to shiver.

Aemond begins quicken his pace and pound into you against the tree. Loud moans pour from your mouth but you could not find any care in that moment. The sound of your moans was like music in his ears, he had never heard a sweeter sound. You already begin to see stars and you cry out his name. So many nights he had longed to hear you moan his name just like that, the sound of it in his ear breaks the last of his restraint. You loudly come undone around him around him as he comes deep inside you, groaning out your name.

You feel your mind come back down to earth as he slowly lowers you back onto your feet.

“I cannot tell you how long I have dreamed of that.” Aemond says lowly as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Me too.” You whisper.

“Let’s get you back home to my chambers so I can take care of you properly.” He smirks and holds out his hand.

You smile back and take his hand as he leads you over to Vhagar. You hug him tight as he flies through the skies until the cold air becomes warm and you reach Kings Landing to live out your new life.

[onlycosmere]

“He kept on the proper face all the way to his rooms, and was proud of himself for it. Then he stepped inside and found an empty nothingness. His were the quarters of a highlord, supposedly luxurious and spacious. He had little furniture though, and that left it feeling hollow. Dark, the sole light coming from the balcony. Every honor he’d been given seemed to highlight how vacant his life really was. Titles couldn’t fill a room with life.

Still, he turned and closed the door with a firm push. Only then did he break. He didn’t make it to the chair. He sank down with his back to the wall beside the door. He tried to unbutton his coat, but ended up bending forward with his knuckles pressing his forehead, digging into his skin as he hyperventilated, gasping in deep breaths of air while he trembled and shook.

Exhaustionspren like jets of dust gleefully congregated around him. And agonyspren, like upside-down faces carved from stone, twisted and faded in and out. He couldn’t cry. Nothing came out. He wanted to cry, because at least that would be a release. Instead he huddled, knuckles pressing against the scars in his forehead, wishing he could shrivel away. Like the eyes of a person struck by a Shardblade.

In moments like this—alone and huddled on the floor of a dark room, tormented by agonyspren—Moash’s words found him. The truth of them became undeniable. Out in the garish sunlight, it was easy to pretend that everything was all right. In here, Kaladin could see clearly.

You’re just going to keep hurting.…

His entire life had been a futile effort to stop a storm by yelling at it. The storm didn’t care.

They’re all going to die. There’s nothing you can do about it.

You could never build anything that lasted, so why try? Everything decayed and fell apart. Nothing was permanent. Not even love.

Only one way out …

A knock came at his door. Kaladin ignored the sound until it became insistent. Storms. They were going to barge in, weren’t they? Suddenly panicked that anyone should find him like this, Kaladin stood up and straightened his coat. He took a deep breath, and the agonyspren faded.

Adolin pushed his way in, a treasonous Syl on his shoulder. That was where she had gone? To fetch Adolin storming Kholin?

The young man wore a uniform of Kholin blue, but not a regulation one. He’d taken to having embellishments added, regardless of what his father thought. While it was sturdy—a little stiff, starched to maintain neat lines—its sleeves were embroidered to match his boots. The cut left the coat longer than most—a bit like Kaladin’s own captain’s coat, but more trendy.

Somehow Adolin wore the uniform, when the uniform had always worn Kaladin. To Kaladin, the uniform was a tool. To Adolin it was a part of an ensemble. How did he get his hair—blond, peppered black—so perfectly messy? It was both casual and deliberate at the same time.

He was smiling, of course. Storming man.

“You are here!” Adolin said. “Rock said he thought you were heading for your room.”

“Because I wanted to be alone,” Kaladin said.

“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm—something few other people would have dared.

“I like being by myself,” Kaladin said.

“Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”

“Maybe,” Kaladin snapped, “I just don’t want to be around you, Adolin.”

The highprince hesitated, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes and putting his face up close to Kaladin’s. Syl still sat on Adolin’s shoulder, her arms folded—without even the decency to look ashamed when Kaladin glared at her.

“Tell me honestly,” Adolin said. “With an oath, Kaladin. Tell me that you should be left alone tonight. Swear it to me.”

Adolin held his gaze. Kaladin tried to form the words, and felt of the ten fools when he couldn’t get them out.

He definitely shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Storm you,” Kaladin said.

“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”

Kaladin extracted his arm from Adolin’s grip, but didn’t resist further. He grabbed new clothes—tossing aside the ones he’d been fighting in.

He did, however, shoot Syl another glare as she flew over to him. “Adolin?” Kaladin said as he changed. “Your first thought was to get Adolin?”

“I needed someone you couldn’t intimidate,” she replied. “That list at best includes three people. And the queen was likely to transform you into a crystal goblet or something.”

Kaladin sighed and walked out to join Adolin, lest the highprince think he was dallying. Syl eyed Kaladin as she walked in the air alongside him, keeping up with him despite her dainty steps.

“Thank you,” Kaladin said softly, turning his eyes forward.”

- Rhythm of War

[somethingsteff]

Political prompt!!

President Obi-Wan and political reporter Anakin get in a heated discussion in the press conference room that leads to some heated sex😏

Almost 2k words later and I bring you this little morsel! I had a ton of fun with this and really leaned into the West Wing vibes for it (I maintain that Charlie would make a great bodyman for President Kenobi). I hope you like it, friend!

Obi-Wan felt his nails dig painfully into his palms, but he was unable to release the tight fists. It was bad enough that someone had gone after a school - a school, children! - but for one of the press corps to accuse the administration of not investigating to their fullest potential. It was unfathomable. They had just received confirmation from a local health department that the recent string of illnesses at a Mandalore school district was from someone maliciously tampering with their water supply that morning. The federal government only just got asked to intervene. 

What more could Obi-Wan have done? He had immediately quarantined the buildings and dispatched a third party investigatory team to the site. He contacted the CDC and WHO for support in quick and effective treatment for all those who have been affected. Hell, he even asked his bodyman to compile a list of names and contact information so he could make calls to all the families, personally. 

All he could think about as he got each update was how easily it could have been Korkie, poisoned and in the hospital, if Satine hadn't brought him with her to Coruscant so she could be her best friend's Press Secretary. And now she was fending off accusations left and right by one man in particular. 

Anakin Skywalker.

Though he was a relatively new member of the press corps, he was well on the way toward making a name for himself. Obi-Wan had been curious about the curly-haired reporter himself. Now he was only gritting his teeth and wishing the boy would just shut up. 

“Does this administration have any excuses for why it's not taking action toward any of the suspected perpetrators?” Anakin's angry voice rang out through Obi-Wan's screen as he watched Satine deftly handle the angry man. Again. 

He couldn't handle it any longer.

Quickly navigating the hallways in the West Wing, Obi-Wan didn't notice the wave of people standing as he approached and sitting after he moved past them. He made it to the reporters’ bullpen at the back of the Press Room in record time, and instructed an aide to hold Skywalker off after the reporters were dismissed. He wanted to answer some of his questions personally.

A guard kept the reporters from streaming past Obi-Wan, instead guiding them toward another door and out of the room, but allowed Satine to approach him.

“Don't do anything you'll regret, Obi. He's just an angry kid, he doesn't mean anything by it.”

He couldn't bring himself to answer her, but did squeeze her hand as she walked away, taking comfort in her corresponding embrace.

“Mr. Skywalker,” Obi-Wan walked into the mostly empty Press Room and gestured for the remaining staff to leave them. “I hear you have some questions about the incident in Mandalore. Rather than letting you continue harassing my staff, I thought I'd give you the opportunity to ask me your questions directly. Off the record.”

Anakin's face didn't change when he saw Obi-Wan walk in, he hadn't expected it to, but at the mention of the school poisoning anger flared up in his eyes once more.

“Gee, thanks, Kenobi-”

“President Kenobi.”

“-I do have a few questions for you. But it really all boils down to one; why are you sitting on your ass instead of doing something about the attack?”

Obi-Wan had to fight not to outwardly bristle at the accusation that he hadn't done anything. “I assure you, we are doing everything within our power to get to the bottom of this situation.”

“‘Doing everything in your power’?” Anakin mocked. “Please! You're all twiddling your thumbs until you can get an optics report so you don't lose face in the election cycle.”

A muscle in Obi-Wan's jaw twitched, but he let Anakin keep going.

“I really expected better from you Kenobi, this shitshow-”

“Enough.” Obi-Wan didn't raise his voice, but he let all the ice he'd been feeling in his veins since this whole situation started seep into his tone. “I am the President, and regardless of what you think of my actions you will address me as such and with the respect that position deserves. You will cease calling me ‘Kenobi’, you will call me ‘Mr. President,’ ‘President Kenobi,’ or ‘Sir.’”

It appeared that Anakin wanted to interrupt, so he held out a hand.

“Now. I don't give a damn about optics, especially regarding an attack on children. What I do care about is completing this investigation and prosecution quickly, thoroughly, and with as little impact on the victims as possible. I will not let this become a media storm, and I will not stand for you accosting my staff.” He looked at Skywalker for a moment before coming to a decision. “Were you aware that Press Secretary Kryze is from Mandalore? No? Well, prior to moving out here after my confirmation her son went to that school. She knows many of the children and parents, and in all likelihood she and her son would have been directly impacted were she not out here.”

Anakin finally had the audacity to look ashamed, quickly gazing down at the floor and scuffing the toe of his dress show against the carpet. His cheeks were beginning to turn pink, and Obi-Wan realized his own face felt warm and his breathing had become heavy. Throughout his lecture he had become more and more riled up, letting his famed control slip just a fraction, and it seemed to cause the boy in front of him to squirm.

Good.

While he took the time to catch his breath, Obi-Wan looked more closely at the reporter. He was fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt - he vaguely recalled that it frequently became untucked as Skywalker used the edge to clean the lenses on his black-rimmed glasses - tugging it down lower and- oh.

Oh.

He was hard.

The thin slacks that fit snugly along thick thighs did little to hide the bulge that was now pressing along his inseam. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do to hide it from his President.

The silence finally stretched to its breaking point and Anakin looked up. His eyes were blown, pupils swallowing what Obi-Wan knew was a lovely shade of blue. “I'm sorry, sir,” he said in a small voice. “It won't happen again.”

Obi-Wan considered the stress he had been under for the past few days - really since he was sworn into office, but the additional stress of late hadn't been any help. With a deep exhale, he decided to test his luck and see if he couldn't partake in some stress relief while simultaneously ensuring this reporter really did learn his lesson.

He stepped closer to the young man, coming toe to toe and letting his breath fan across his face. “You're correct. It won't ever happen again. And we're going to make sure of that.”

Telegraphing his moves clearly so that Anakin could stop him at any time, Obi-Wan reached his hand out and cupped the nape of his neck, pulling their mouths together into a kiss that started chaste and quickly devolved from there.

Anakin let the older man's tongue slip into his mouth, submitting so beautifully, and followed his lead as Obi-Wan, President Kenobi, led him over to the podium at the head of the room. As quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over. Obi-Wan spun Anakin around and bent him at the waist, forcing him to brace himself against the podium with his forearms. 

“Now, darling, let us see if we can really drive this lesson home.”

Obi-Wan reached around and unbuckled the reporter's belt before opening his fly and pulling his trousers and briefs down to mid-thigh. 

He trailed one hand up the prone body before him and traced the plush lips. “Suck,” he said directly into Anakin's ear and felt the responding shiver as the younger man eagerly pulled the digits into his mouth. “That's a good lad.”

Thoroughly coated in saliva, Obi-Wan pulled his fingers back and let them fall to trace along the rim hidden between the perfect globes of Anakin's ass.

“Now relax,” he breathed as he slid one finger in to the knuckle.

Anakin's body quickly adjusted, and soon the single digit was joined by one, two, three more until Anakin was a panting, quivering mess. 

“Please, Mr. President. I'm ready, I'm, uhn, ready.”

“Very good, darling.”

Despite his blood supply diverting to his aching cock, Obi-Wan quickly undid his own slacks and pulled himself out of the ever-tightening confines. He spit in his hand and slicked up his own length before pressing the head against Anakin's loosened hole.

“Are you sure you want to do this, dear one?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I want you. Please.”

Obi-Wan slowly pushed in and immediately felt a glorious heat surround him. It was addicting, and he found himself hoping he could have this again and again. Once he was fully seated he paused, waiting for Anakin to adjust to his formidable size. Only when he felt Anakin's hips push backward, trying to fuck himself on the cock filling him, did he start thrusting.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the obscene slap of their hips and Anakin's constant gasps and moans.

“President Kenobi, I'm gonna-” Anakin's sentence cut off with a moan.

“That's it, darling. Can you come like this?”

Anakin nodded and Obi-Wan increased his pace, frantically slamming into the body beneath his hands. As he looked down to watch his cock disappear into the reporter - his reporter? - he shifted his grip on those glorious hips so that he could dig his thumbs in and pull those plush cheeks apart. The slight jostling must have changed their positions just enough because Anakin let out a long and wordless groan, his arms giving out beneath him. 

Obi-Wan continued to punish the younger man's prostate, chasing his own orgasm as much as he was his partners, when he felt muscles tense beneath his hands and around his length, Anakin letting out another cry as he spilled across the podium.

It only took one, two, three more frantic pumps before Obi-Wan felt his own release crash over him, hips stuttering as they worked to push his seed deep into his partner's willing body. When he finally felt the last dregs of his orgasm fade he let gravity pull his body on top of Anakin's on the podium, taking a moment to catch his breath before even contemplating slipping out of him.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Though Anakin's voice was still a little shaky it sounded content and drowsy.

“I'm glad you've learned your lesson, Mr. Skywalker.”

He was forced out of Anakin as the younger man stood straighter and turned around. “I don't know, Mr. President. I'm a pretty slow learner. I might need another lecture.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but straightened them both up nonetheless and led the infuriating reporter over to the Residence. He had a feeling it would take more than one more lecture and he found he was very amicable to the idea.

[honorhearted]

The air grew increasingly thin, leaving him winded and dizzy as her mouth sought his, sweetly forbidden within the pale moonlight.

“I promise you I have never wanted anything more in my entire life,” she whispered.

Her words were a reassurance, a comfort, and with a boyish little grin, Benjamin had to look away in order to calm the frantic thrum-thrum-thrum of his pulse. It suddenly felt like much too much, and yet he wanted more, his limbs trembling as she nudged her forehead into his and anchored him close.

"But..."

The uncertainty in her voice brought his excitement to a screeching halt, his brow creasing as he sought her gaze within the unforgiving dark. "But what?" he asked, his timbre just as shaky as his breath.

Anne pulled away, placing her hands over his chest as a sort of barrier. She appeared haunted, sad, and his heart pounded as she cautioned, "Ben, you should know, I..."

She trailed off again, making him ever anxious.

"What?" he pressed. "What is it?"

To his alarm, the silence continued. Anne was completely overcome, her body starting to shake in his embrace. She took a deep breath, then blurted, "I-I'm not a virgin. I understand if that changes things. I do not blame you if you no longer wish to continue... I just thought you should know. That I'm not quite as pure as you might think I am. That I am a tarnished woman."

For a long moment, not a word was uttered. And then with a breathless, relieved little laugh, Benjamin squeezed her arms and pressed, "Is that all? Truly?"

Drawing her hand to rest over his heart, he splayed her fingers across his chest and kissed her brow. "Anne, I am not untouched either," he confided. "My best friend convinced me to pay a woman to introduce me to pleasure -- and on my sixteenth birthday, no less -- so it was a horrible, mortifying experience, and one I never wish to repeat. But you..." His gaze softened. "You are precisely what I want. Before we met, I was overcome by darkness and despair and loneliness, and I genuinely believed it was all I deserved." Fervent, he nudged his brow into hers. "I don't care who you've been with, or what you were -- I only care about who you are now. And seeing how I, myself, am quite tainted -- from war, from hardship, from carnality -- it hardly seems fair of me to hold you at fault... Not when we share in that same sin."

Withdrawing again to look at her, Benjamin tenderly cupped her face. "What you are could never be tarnished to me. You're the other part of my soul."

"Oh, well, we certainly wouldn't want you to get a big head now, would we?" She teased, raking her fingers through his hair. Unable to keep herself away for too long, she leaned up onto her tip toes and kissed him again. Each time she pulled away, she felt more and more dizzy. Her lips felt sore and yet she wanted nothing more than to continue until her entire body ached from emotion. Her knees still stood strong beneath the weight of her body, but Anne swayed on her feet. Within her chest, her heart sat rattling against her ribcage like an animal yearning to be released.

"By all means, be a scoundrel." Anne muttered against his lips, her chest heaving up and down as her heart struggled to keep up. "Just know that I can be quite the scoundrel myself."

Anne followed him diligently, moving as he lowered them to their knees. Even as the dewy grass soaked into her skirts, all she could focus on was the heat of his breath and the flush creeping across her chest. She wanted him, all of him. And she wanted him to want all of her. Anne wanted to offer herself up to him-- mind, body, and soul-- until there was nothing left to give. Her heart had grown calloused and tough over the years alone, but she felt it softening with each passing second.

Anne had given herself to a man before, but never like this. She had allowed George to take her wherever he'd wanted. She had offered her body with the hopes that he would offer his heart in return. By the time she had realized that George had no heart to give, it was too late. And although she had pledged to never again make those same mistakes again, she was still just a girl at heart, weakened by passion and desperate to feel love. She would bare herself to him wherever he wanted. Whenever, whatever. It didn't matter to her, as long as she was with him. As long as she never had to spend another day without him.

We don't have to. Anne could hardly control the laugh that bubbled from her chest, pressing her forehead to his. His dedication to remaining gallant was admirable, and it took all the strength in her not to tease him about it. Later, she reminded herself. There would be plenty of time to taunt him later.

“I promise you I have never wanted anything more in my entire life.” Her words were breathless as she clung to him tightly. She couldn't let him slip away, not when so much of herself had become dependent on his existence. Anne had promised herself when she'd boarded that ferry that she would never give her heart to another man, and yet she couldn't imagine withholding it from where it truly belonged: in his hands. It would be safe there, she knew that. And yet the thought of allowing someone in after so long was terrifying.

"But," She pulled away gently, resting her hands against his chest to keep at bay. Anne knew it would be easy to conceal the truth from him, to let him believe she still clung to her virtue like an unmarried woman should. She could easily keep her mouth shut and allow him to think he was the first man to ever touch her. But she wanted him to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth.

"Ben, you should know, I..." The words caught in her throat. What if he changed his mind? What if, upon learning of her mistakes, he saw her as nothing more than a harlot? If his eyes darkened and he regarded her with the same disgust she was accustomed to, Anne wasn't sure she'd be able to recover from it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her body to be strong. She gathered as much courage as she could, knowing that the longer she hid the truth, the more damage it would cause in the end.

She waited a beat, letting the silence press down against her like a vice. Would this be enough to ruin everything? Would he consider her past mistakes to be a sort of betrayal? Would it dissuade him to know that her body wasn't untouched and pure? Would it change the way his heart felt towards her?

No one's going to want you now. George's voice threatened to echo in the back of her mind, threatened to tear at her resolve with biting words, but she refused to let the ghost of her past ruin her future. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out the confession.

"I-I'm not a virgin." Slowly, Anne opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to meet his. She expected to be met with dark eyes, filled with disgust, or rage, but all she saw were his gentle features staring back at her. She swallowed and continued, desperate to fill the silence before he could. "I understand if that changes things. I do not blame you if you no longer wish to continue... I just thought you should know. That I'm not quite as pure as you might think I am. That I am a tarnished woman."

[mikerickson]

I worked as a poll worker for the first time yesterday

After the primaries in the summer, our County recognized that they had a poll worker shortage leading into the election this year and started putting out advertisements to bring new people in. I realized that I didn't know literally a single person in my life that had been a poll worker before and that it was something I had always taken for granted. With this looming shortage however, I decided to step up and do my civic duty because why not? After a three hour in-person training session and a two hour online training session, I was ready to go.

More under the cut because honestly some of these interactions with voters are kinda depressing:

I had only signed up to do a half-day shift from 5:15 AM to 1:00 PM because I figured I'd be wiped out and exhausted if I did a whole day. Well turns out that my replacement who was supposed to take up the evening shift never showed up, so I ended up staying. I got to the polling location (a local high school) at 5:00 AM and left at 9:30 PM, effectively working a 16.5 hour day with only a 1 hour lunch break. I'll get a $300 check in two weeks, which, hey, beats jury duty!

By law our polling center was supposed to open to the public at 6:00 AM sharp, but we were scrambling and not ready yet when the vote-before-work crowd started banging on the door. Very stressful start to the morning and we immediately had a big line that didn't dwindle down until about 7:30 AM. I unironically wish I had gotten there even earlier.

Our polling location had four districts, and each district had four workers (two to man the check-in table, one to operate the voting booths and ballot scanners, and one to float/rotate out every so often). I was paired with a man and a woman both in their seventies and a woman maybe in her mid forties, but they were all clearly uncomfortable with technology. Two of the other districts were also staffed by old people who just gave up at the first sign of a problem with a touch screen or a printer jam. I'm talking just a complete lack of problem-solving capabilities. I ended up running triple duty checking people in, making sure voters were set up in their booths properly, and doing on-the-fly tech support and troubleshooting. It felt rewarding multitasking and hearing, "get Mike over here, he'll fix it" over and over, but I kinda wish I didn't have to?

We only had two voters make a scene over the course of the entire day. During the morning rush right after opening a woman raised her voice asking why there was a line and stressing out that she had to leave to go to work soon (she stuck it out in line and then bolted out of there). Later around lunch time a guy at one of the other districts' tables shouted something like, "oh, so my dad can vote here but I can't?" He stormed out in a pissy mood shortly after, but I never got the full story of what was going on there.

I had one man who had recently moved and hadn't updated his registration with the board of elections, so his address didn't match what was on file. I explained that he could still vote if he did a provisional ballot, which is basically like a mail-in ballot that you put in a special envelope and leave at the polling station instead of taking it to a drop-off box. Apparently that was a step too far and he just said, "forget it..." and left. Seemed odd to me that he 1) physically drove to a voting location to vote and 2) waited in line to sign in, but that filling out a single sheet of paper was no longer worth it.

Once we were fully set up and getting into the flow of things most of the delays and reasons for lines were the voters taking too long inside the booths. It was basically a giant touchscreen monitor to select your choices, then you review everything one last time before printing a physical ballot. I had multiple people enter the booth and then wait about five minutes before calling for help saying they didn't know what to do. Also the second page/backside of the ballot was for the local Board of Education candidates, and this was really tripping up a lot of people. Also a staggering amount of people just did not see the giant "NEXT" arrow at the bottom right hand side of the screen. Poll workers are not allowed to enter the booth with them, so I had to do a lot of blind troubleshooting from the other side of the curtain.

Lots of men coming in with their wives and girlfriends and just waiting by the wall while the women voted but they didn't.

There was a smattering of young people, but not many. I did have to turn one girl away who recently turned 18 because New Jersey is not a same-day voter registration state. She was visibly bummed out and I felt bad about that.

Our oldest voter of the day was this ancient Polish woman who didn't speak a lick of English. Her daughter, who must've been in her eighties herself, had to sign a special permission slip to enter the booth with her mother to help. They were in there for a good 15 minutes, but luckily this was during a calm period of the day.

In terms of voter attire, we only had two Harris shirts and one Harris/Walz hat we had to ask people to cover up because that's not allowed within 100 feet of the polling station. Lots of Puerto Rico flags, and one guy had this obnoxious shirt of a coquí painted like the flag that I loved. Also had one man come in wearing a very sharp suit with the loudest red tie I've ever seen in my life who proudly shouted, "Let's make voting great again!" as he left after he finished.

One older Hispanic lady (I think she was Puerto Rican) had very broken English and had to do a provisional ballot for some reason. She was so worried she was going to do it wrong, but I walked her through it with my very broken Spanish and after about 20 minutes she was good to go. She was extremely thankful and gave me a hug.

I had one woman, maybe in her mid-forties, call me over to help when she was inside the booth. She asked, "why are there so many names?" I asked what she meant, and she started listing the down-ballot candidates in the other rows below President and Vice President. She said, "what is 'Senate'? What does that mean?" I explained to her that there were other contests to vote for, and after a telling pause she responded, "...okay..." Not entirely sure I got through to her.

One woman took her very young daughter into the booth with her and a few minutes later called me over. Her screen displayed a "USB device disconnected" error. I looked down and saw that the printer had been turned off. I asked how that happened and the little girl started laughing. Her mother was mortified, but I got them sorted out.

We had one teenager who we had to help insert her ballot into the scanner because her hands were shaking so violently. It was her first time voting and she was extremely nervous. I hope she's doing okay today.

Towards the end of the night this contractor with filthy hands comes in and he's clearly exhausted but wanted to vote anyway. We were shooting the breeze while he signed his voting authority and I said, "I bet I got you beat though, I woke up at 4:30 this morning." He looks up at me and deadpans, "I've been up since 3:30." I yielded and he laughed with me.

Our second-to-last voter of the day was some early-twenties guy who moseyed on in at 7:55 PM (polls legally close at 8:00 PM sharp) and said, "I heard this was going on today." Somehow he was registered and was able to get in and out in no time, but that was just such a casual remark to make that it floored me.

Our absolute last voter of the day was a woman who was on her cellphone the entire time trying to coax her husband - who was in his own car about two blocks away from the sounds of it - to hurry on over before we closed. I could hear him hemming and hawing over it, making some excuse. He didn't make it.

Closing the polls was equally as confusing and stressful as opening them was because there are a lot of very detailed ballot reports to print and specific zip ties with specific barcodes and serial numbers to close up the machines. We were missing a certain lock for the ballot bag that we was preventing all sixteen of us from leaving (no one can leave until all districts at the polling location are ready). Eventually I (because of course it was me) found it in a trash can; someone had thrown it out for some reason but no one owned up to doing it.

As we were leaving and all saying goodbye, some of the other poll workers joked, "see you guys in four years!" I pointed out that there are elections every year, and that in fact New Jersey has a gubernatorial election next year, and some of them basically said, "I didn't know that."

Overall a stressful but memorable day. Today I was talking to some co-workers that voted at different locations within my County (so using the same equipment I was trained on), and they were telling me stories of waiting between 45 minutes to two and a half hours at most. My location never got a line that bad, which maybe had to do with the location I got assigned, but it's also just as possible that me and one other guy around my age (shout out to Giovanni working District 27!) held our shit down and prevented that from happening.

It was a very long day that wiped me out. In a vacuum I don't know that I would want to do it again, but after seeing the incompetence of the standard ilk of poll workers and learning what was happening at other locations, I really feel like I need to. I'd rather these things be run by people like me than not.

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 3

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2696

Warnings: arranged marriage, lying, forced proximity and a little abandonment.

A/N: Well, let's see how this goes down... All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The weather was starting to get colder day by day now. Winter was fast approaching and Y/N could feel it. She was standing infront of the castle, the only home she had ever known, and watched Dean's men getting ready to leave.

The carts were already loaded and the horses saddled. Her belongings were also already stowed away. At least the things she could take with her. All that was missing was her own horse, Arrow, a young stayer she had hand-raised. This way she could at least take a little piece of home with her.

She tried not to stay in anyone's way, but the men from the Winchester Clan did not seem to be bothered by her. And eventhough it felt like time was running in slow motion, they were ready to leave faster than she liked. Dean was still not around, but his brother Sam was. He smiled nicely at her whenever their eyes meet and that made Y/N feel a little better. After the horses were harnessed, Sam came over to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked and touched her shoulder lightly.

"Well... I'm better than I thought I'd be." she answered honestly, but before Sam could reply, Dean joined them.

"Are we ready?" he did not sound so happy.

"Yeah, we're all set." Benny said from one of the carts.

"Alright. Let's go." Dean replied and a few seconds later he sat on his horse and was holding out his hand towards Y/N.

She looked at him in surprise. What was he indicating? Did he want her to sit with him on his horse?

"I... I will ride on my own horse." but as she was looking at Arrow she saw that Millie was already sitting in the saddle.

"Your maid will ride it with the rest of your belongings." Dean said and was still holding out his hand.

"Then... I... can walk. It's not a problem. "

"Yeah, you could. But our trip will already take a day by horse." which meant it would take even longer by foot. "And the nights are getting cold."

He sounded neutral, but Y/N saw in Dean's eyes that he was starting to get annoyed. She really didn't want to make it more difficult or complicated, but she could also imagine that he wanted to have as little as possible to do with her.

"Well... maybe I can sit on a cart..."

"Oh for god's sake." Dean grumbled under his breath and hopped off his horse.

Before Y/N could react in any way, Dean was at her side tugging on her arm. And within seconds he picked her up and sat her down on his horse. As if she would've weighed nothing. She squealed upon that action while Dean sat up again right behind her. He reached around her and picked up the reins again with both hands.

"Everybody move! I wanne be home before midnight." Dean called out and the travel company set off.

Y/N looked back over her shoulder and some tears started to burn her eyes. She had had a lot of lovely goodbyes including big hugs and warm words. A lot of people from her clan wished her well. Only her father did not say much except some warnings words to not embarass him.

The trip back to Dean's castle was quiet and without any disturbance. They stopped once for ten minutes to eat something and to go to the bathroom. But now they've been on their way again for several hours. The day was starting to dim down slowly and Dean was sure that Y/N's back and hips must've started to hurt a little by now. But they moved faster than expected and would therefore be home earlier than planned.

He was thinking about another stop, when he felt the woman infront of him leaning a little more into his chest. And when her head fell onto his shoulder he looked down on her to see that she had fallen asleep. Her face was relaxed and her chest rose and fell evenly.

Dean started to smile and his heart began to beat a little faster, but that didn't hold very long. This was not Helena. He had to keep remembering himself, that this was the wrong woman in his arms. Pictures from last night reappeared in his mind and he frowned. Eventhough this was Y/N, why did this feel so right?

When Y/N awoke the next time, the horse she was sitting on had stopped in his tracks. She felt Dean's strong chest on her back and his arms that surrounded her to hold the reins. It was warm and comfortable, eventhough her butt and thighs hurt a little.

"We are here." Dean said quietly into her ear.

And so she looked around. The day had already moved into the blue hour, but it was still bright enough to see everything. They stood infront of the castle. A big castle. At least three times bigger than her's. Dean had already gotten off his horse while men started to surround them and helped unpacking their things. There were so many people here.

With a look back over her shoulder Y/N was trying to find Millicent and when she spotted her, she saw that her friend had gotten help from Dean's brother Sam. The woman had a slight smile on her face and it warmed her heart a little.

"Are you able to come down?" asked Dean and Y/N turned her head to him.

She wanted to say 'yes', but somehow her voice did not work and so she just nodded her head. The only problem was that her legs felt stiff and Y/N was unsure if she could get down safely and with a little bit of grace. She swung her leg a little clumsily to the other side and almost lost her footing. But Dean was there to help right away and grabbed Y/N by her waist to lift her down.

When she felt solid ground under her feet again, she looked up at Dean and thanked him with a small, relieved smile. However, he didn't smile back and then Y/N noticed that they were standing quite close together. She felt the tight grip his hands had on her waist, felt the warmth radiating from his chest, and for the briefest of moments she felt the urge to rise up on her tiptoes and kiss him. But Dean abruptly let go of her and turned his back to her, untying the bags on his saddle.

"DEAN!" screamed a female voice full of joy and him and Y/N were turning their heads towards the voice.

A young, darksinned woman ran towards them and smiled brightly. She ran to Dean and embraced him tightly. Y/N took a step back, feeling a little awkward and almost as an intruder to this scene infront of her. Dean did not embrace her back, but he didn't push her back either.

"Cassie." was all he said, before slowly peeling himself free from her arms.

"I did not think you would be back today. I thought you'd come home tomorrow or in two days." she said with excitement.

Y/N furrowed her brows and a weird feeling settled in her gut. These two seemed a little to familiar with each other and she couldn't help but wonder what their relationship was.

"It all went down faster than I thought..." Dean said and gave Y/N a quick glance which Cassie followed. "... and I just wanted to be home again."

"Oh! Then you must be Helena, right?" Cassie walked over to Y/N, but before she could answer Dean already spoke for her.

"No. That's Y/N. Her sister." he explained rather emotionless.

Now Cassie looked confused and Y/N felt a little irritated by Dean's tone. It had been his decision to take her with him, right? She had not demaned anything from him, nor had she insisted on comming with him and take her place as his wife. So there was no reason for him to be like that.

"Oh, really?" Cassie turned around to Dean again. "Where is Helena?"

"Not here." Dean replied and swung a bag over his shoulder. "I married Y/N."

And with that he left the two women alone and made his way into the castle.

Since then a whole month had passed and Y/N still felt like she did not really belong here. She felt alone in these big walls and missed her home and her Clan. She visited Arrow a lot and the horse was always happy to see her. Being in the box with him had something so familiar for her, it mended her heart everytime. Millie could tell that she was not quite happy and tried to spend as much time with her as she could. Now, the women could be more open about their friendship. Y/N was the new lady after all.

But Millie was still fulfilling her duties and everytime she was alone on her way, Sam seemed to join her. They talked a lot whenever they could and Millie seemed to be more happy here than Y/N was. The maid always smiled and her cheeks blushed a little when Sam smiled down on her. Y/N was happy for her friend. Sam was a good guy and they were really sweet together. Dean on the other hand...

In the first week he showed her around, but it felt more like he had to instead of he wanted to. They slept in the same room, but he barely talked to her. So, whenever they were in the same room, Y/N started to talk. She could not stand the weird silence between them and eventhough he did not respond to her words, he did not flee the room either. And somehow she took that as a positive sign. Maybe, just maybe, if he got to know her more, his heart would melt a little and his anger about the situation could fade away. At least that was what she hoped.

But after the first week he went on a short business trip. Dean had been gone for five days and that gave Y/N time to get to know the daily routine in the castle better. At one point she would need to start to take over the responsebility for the castle and the Clan. She was married to Dean. It gave her that power.

It did not take long before she met the woman who was in charge the whole time. Her name was Ellen and she basically managed the castle. Her daughter Jo helped her with the tasks and they made a pretty good team. These two were the first ones who had really welcomed Y/N here and started to bring her in right away.

After two days Y/N felt as if they were already friends. Jo was a few years younger than her, but neither of them could tell that. She was funny, clever and beautiful. A few men of the Clan seemed to flirt with her and she knew how to handle them. Y/N was really impressed by that. For her that would've never been an option.

Ellen was rather strict, but she had a big heart and only good intentions. Everyone knew that you should not mess with her, especially since she cooked for the whole castle. But everyone respected her and in truth they all liked her. She was almost like a mother and that made Y/N's heart hurt a little. Since her own mother had been gone for so long by now, that the picture the woman had in her mind, slowly started to fade away.

"Yeah, and that's how we handle the dinners." explained Ellen while she cooked the lamp stew on the big stove.

"But... that's a pretty big pot. Isn't he heavy?" Y/N asked.

Ellen had said, that only the women would serve the food. Carrying out the pots, pans and plates.

"It is pretty heavy. So four of us will carry it. It's the same when we eat suckling pig. But that's not all the time."

And still, in Y/N's ears it did not make sense. There were a lot of strong men here that could carry the heavy things alone or in groups of two. It would be easier for everyone. But to that Ellen had only one thing to say.

"That's how we did it in all those years and Dean probably never wanted to change that."

But only half an hour later Y/N's point got proven when four women came into the dining hall with the heavy pot and one of them lost her footing on the stairs up from the kitchen. The other three lost their balance too and half of the stew spilled over the floor.

Ellen exchanged a knowing look with Y/N after both women rushed to their aid. In the end the men were the only ones who got to taste the stew and everyone else had to eat the side dishes. It was still enough for all, but it was a shame about the delicious meat. And that was not everything that could use improvement.

When Dean came back from his first business trip Y/N tried to talk to him. But Y/N felt like he did not even listened to her. He was focused on his papers that were lying on the table near the window in their bedroom. He did not even look up to her, only grumbled. She had never felt so lost, standing in the middle of the room and not even being noticed by her now husband. Two days later he went on the next business trip and it made her only fell worse.

Everyone else in the castle was really nice to her. She tried to be as polite and friendly as she could, wanting to show them that she was interested in the people of her new Clan and the way they lived their life here. And it seemed as if the others responded well to that. Slowly they welcomed her more and more and became more open to her. At least that was some consolation.

The only one she didn't really seem to warm up to was Cassie. The young woman seemed to be clearly avoiding her and Y/N wasn't entirely sure why. She had a feeling that Cassie really liked Dean and she knew from Millie that the young woman would have liked to marry Dean. That's what Sam had said. But Y/N hadn't expected the whole situation to end like this either and that's why she didn't think the behavior was entirely fair to her.

But while Cassie was too focused on Dean, Y/N realized that there was someone who probably really liked Cassie. It was a blonde Scottish man named Alex, maybe a year older than Cassie, and he always tried to be near her and help Cassie. But she didn't appreciate his advances. On the contrary, she seemed rather annoyed by him. And somehow Y/N recognized herself in the situation. So at some point she took advantage of the opportunity and tried to have a conversation with Alex.

"You really like her, don't you?" Y/N asked with a gentle smile on her face.

"Who? Cassie?" Alex looked kinda embarassed.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I do." Alex admitted after a moment.

"Did you tell her?"

"What? NO!" he looked down on the ground and Y/N could feel that he was not feeling comfortable right now. "I mean... she likes Dean."

"Yeah... I've noticed." now Y/N was not felling so comfortable with that topic.

"Don't worry about her behavior. It's not because of you." Alex explained.

That was the moment when Y/N realized that the rather shy and quiet boy noticed more than one would think.

"Then what is it about?" Y/N wanted to know.

"It's because he was supposed to marry Helena. And then... he came back with another woman."

Which meant that she was angry, that the other woman was someone else and not Cassie. And again Y/N was asking herself if it still had been a good idea to actually come here.

A/N: It could've been better, right? Dean's not really there and now we have Cassie also. 🫣 🫣 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

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