#Raven's ears wiggle when he's lying

[olenvasynyt]

WIP Wednesday! Here's a little snippet of my upcoming submission for Eris Week Day 1: Bonds. Title is The Trees Have Eyes

Summary: When a trading meeting doesn’t go Beron’s way, the Lady of Autumn asks Eris to take his nine-year-old brother Lucien on a hunting trip for an undetermined amount of time to avoid Beron’s wrath.

Lucien pointed to the treeline with a frown.  “Why do those trees have eyes?” he asked curiously.

Eris followed his finger to a group of aspen trees.  The tall, pale giants stood out next to the usual russet coloring of their neighboring trees.  Their greyish white skin resembled bones, and patterned up the trunk were several black markings.  

He could see what Lucien meant: they did look like eyes.  Black, unblinking eyes following their every move. 

Looking ahead, Eris answered, “They’re spies.  They report any bad or suspicious behavior to the High Lord.”

Lucien was quiet for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together and still fixed on the aspens as he trudged his way through the thicket.  Eris was sure his brother was going to call him out for lying: they weren’t actually eyes: their black knots were scarring from previous branches.  But even if the trees didn’t have eyes for spying, the forest was still watching in other ways.  Some of the trees were on Beron’s side, but even the High Lord couldn’t dictate the nature of the Autumn Court’s forests. 

Lucien carefully brushed aside a tree branch that had clung to his jacket.  “I thought only the birds reported to father,” he finally said, his voice quiet.

Well, Beron couldn’t dictate most things about Autumn’s nature.  But many of the birds, especially the magic species, did report to Beron.  Eris couldn’t count how many times he’d seen a raven or blackbird land on his father’s chair during a meeting and murmur something in his ear.  The Liekkiö birds, the Alkonost…many of the magical birds spied for Beron and reported to him almost daily.  “It’s a team effort,” Eris decided to say, keeping his eyes ahead.  “The trees write the songs and the birds sing them.”

“Do the trees have feet too?” Lucien squinted at the ground as if expecting toes to wiggle up from the dirt.

“They do.  Be careful or they’ll try to trip you.”

Barely a second later, Lucien stumbled, his boots snagging on an exposed root.  Eris went to catch him, a laugh rising up in his throat.  But Lucien brushed him aside with a tenseness in his shoulders.

They continued along the trail west.  Lucien was unusually silent, his eyes constantly flickering back and forth at their surroundings.  No more questions spewed out of the boy’s mouth, but Eris could easily guess he still had a hundred more.  Lucien was no doubt thinking about what Eris had said.  As well as what he didn’t say.  He was clever like that: he could read in between Eris�� guises, feel for any underlying message.  

The silence that hung in between them was only broken by the usual sounds of the forest: cracking branches under their feet, the occasional sound of a bird tweeting. Eris continued forward, his eyes staring unfocused and blurring the trees and autumn foliage into a blurry kaleidoscope of brown, scarlet, and gold.

If the trees had eyes, and the roots were their feet, and branches their arms and hands, then the red leaves were blood.  The elms and birch and oaks…all of Autumn’s trees had blood-stained hands.  They stretched them up to the gloomy sky and pleaded to the Mother for forgiveness.  And the blood fell as dried, crumbled leaves, dripping onto the forest floor and staining the ground scarlet.

The perfect home for the High Fae of the Forest House.  The perfect home for the Vanserras.  But the Vanserras had more blood stained on their hands than all of the Autumn trees combined.

[robthegoodfellow]

A Little Death Do Us Part

VANISHED from fandom to work on this thing. as usual it ballooned 🙃 warnings: necromancy, character death (hence the necromancy), dubcon (on account of the necromancy)

My entry for @bigbangharringrove with art I adore by LucaDoodleDoo who also served as cheerleader when I fell behind and suffered from near fatal narrative maximalism. Here's the first chapter, or read on AO3 💛 (3 chapters up, rest day by day)

Billy had been dead for four days when Steve finally made a breakthrough, muffled cracks as bones restitched and the crushed chest cavity filled, the rasp of rusted lungs expanding with breath. He waited, held his own breath like that would encourage another from the sorry test subject lying inert on the table.

The chest deflated, but only a little—his heart leapt as it rose again, an easier inhale, and Steve would have sobbed, except he had no air, could only manage an anguished choke. It wasn’t anguished, though, just pure exhausted relief, hope, after three nights without sleep, using every trick in the book to keep going, keep trying, not give up.

An ear twitched, then—the tail, the tip curling absent-mindedly.

Within minutes, Mews sat on his haunches, staring at Steve fixedly, even more fixedly than normal, before he’d been hit by that truck, but other than that, he seemed—fine? Fine! Even the sickly-sweet eau de rot was dissipating, ginger fur shedding the greasy dullness of decay.

So it took every ounce of self-control not to go haring off to the basement crypt and work his magic there, on the true intended recipient of his tireless trial and error.

Gods in hell, so many errors. And such a trial. One attempt had backfired so spectacularly that Mews had almost decomposed too far for restoration, crumbling before his eyes as Steve scrambled for the counter spell. Another had awoken the cat but hadn’t healed him, and also imbued him with a ravenous hunger for human flesh. The scratches that crosshatched Steve’s every limb had only just begun to scab under the bandages. He’d had to go for the bat that time, beating at the mangy monster like he was trying to win whack-a-mole at the fair, then gulped down every leftover antidote to zombie infection in the medicine cabinet he could find.

He'd been steadily working his way through the moldy copy of Untethered Netherworld: New Necromancies—several editions out of date, banned in every state but New Jersey—and he was running out of both spells and time. Reanimation for more nefarious purposes—raising undead armies and whatnot—had more wiggle room, but true revivification had to be performed within a week of the victim’s death, and the sooner the better.

He didn’t want a shell of Billy, something better off dead. He wanted Billy. Needed him back.

For that, he had to be patient, thorough; do this right. Follow the checklist. Consulting the items hastily scribbled on the back of a takeout menu, he frowned.

Responds when called.

Well, fuck. Did cats ever respond when called? Mews certainly hadn’t—and Steve still wasn’t sure whether that was due to aloof mulishness or because he maintained some preferred moniker that they weren’t privy to.

Nothing for it but to try, though.

“Mews?”

The cat blinked, swished his tail.

Good enough, Steve figured, checking it off. 

2. Reacts expectedly to stimuli.

Didn’t exactly have a toy mouse handy, but after rooting around in the junk drawer, he dug up one of those keychain laser pointers. Aimed it at the floor in front of the table, and… skittered it around.

Mews launched from his perch, paws extended—pounced on the zigzagging red and kept pouncing.

Another check. 

3. Craves appropriate sustenance.

What did cats even eat, aside from… cat food, which he’d neglected to restock. Tuna? Saucer of milk? Cartoons all seemed to think so.

“Stay here,” he said, though Mews had never been the kind of cat that talked. Locking the workroom behind him, he set off for the kitchen. Pantry had to have at least one can of Chicken of the Sea. 

.💀.

The thing was—Steve should’ve known Billy was possessed. Should’ve been able to tell right away. He’d slept next to that… thing at least two nights and hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed?

He’d kissed him and really been kissing it—wrote off the delayed response, a pause before the returning press, as simple distraction. Held him but really held it, and attributed the strange stiffness to stress, stroked the broad back until he slept—or seemed to.

Because while Steve slept, Billy had been a marionette wreaking havoc, his hijacker attacking at random, opportunistic, installing its brethren on behalf of its master.

On the third morning, the day before he died, when Steve had been watching coffee drip into the pot, the shatter of ceramic spun him round, disoriented. And Billy, eyes streaming, so blue, burning blue—he’d shoved his waiting mug off the center island, was gripping the counter, teeth gritted with effort.

“Go,” he’d grunted between clenched jaws. “Go.” His hand gripped the other mug—Steve’s—and his voice sharpened, urgent. “Run.”

Steve barely dodged it, the mug cracking into the cabinet by his head with far more force than humanly possible, and his childhood training had kicked in. For once, it paid to have been born to parents whose vigilance bordered on paranoid, always on guard against rival families, enemy estates.

He grabbed a kitchen knife, threw every chair in its way, and bolted for the door, slashing behind him as he fumbled with the locks. And ran. Because he trusted Billy with his life, implicitly, knew when a command was the kind performed without question—the tone, the bluntness, the context. It was how they’d survived as an unaffiliated pair, all these years.

But that also meant precious few allies to turn to in times of need. Billy’s sister wasn’t his first choice, but she lived closest, and fleeing on foot put proximity at a premium. To her credit, she’d tried—Steve didn’t fault her for her role in the outcome—Max had just placed her trust in the wrong people. In people that prioritized killing the thing in Billy, rather than saving Billy himself.

Of course, it didn’t help that Billy had been of the same mind.

Now that he’d found a means to bring him back, Steve could admit another reason he hadn’t closed his eyes longer than a blink since the moment Billy went slack: to avoid the endless replay projected behind his lids—of Billy standing between the girl and the monster, a conglomerate creature of melded prey, raw matter drained of humanity, remade into an ever-growing puppet of destruction.

He'd wrested control once more, like he had in the kitchen, long enough to speak the words to unmake the abomination—words he alone could know, unbeknownst to the puppeteer, as the son of a witch infamous for having contracted with a god of death so powerful none could speak its name and live. None could hear its name and live. And none knew it, save two, for a while. And then one. 

And then none.

Billy spoke it. Steve saw his lips shape unfamiliar words. For the sake of the girl. 

.💀.

A checkmark next to every item on the list—that’s what broke him, finally. Not the most dignified position, kneeling over a litterbox, scooping sandy nuggets into a trash bin while fighting tears of joy, suppressing hysterical, ecstatic laughter, but—Mews was a cat, just a normal cat again, to all appearances, which meant—

He could have Billy back. Had proven wrong every tutor who’d dismissed Steve’s lackluster abilities as beyond the help of instruction. Sufficiently motivated, he’d managed every spell he tried—so it wasn’t his fault he didn’t fully know what each spell would do. This was on his teachers for slouching on the job, handwaving him through his studies to collect a paycheck.

Closing the lid of the bin, Steve stood to wash his hands and swayed, so light-headed he would have toppled were it not for a steadying arm flung to the wall. He breathed slow, eyes closed—opened, and the room had stilled its spinning.

Even so—he needed sleep. If he attempted the most important magics of his life and fucked it up from fatigue, he’d endure the rest of his days tormented by curdling regret.

“Bed, Mews,” he called, out of habit.

They’d held out a week, after Dustin had entrusted them with Mews’ care while he was apprenticing with the bigwigs at Know Where Corporation for the summer. Mewsy prefers sleeping with a buddy, Dustin instructed, among a litany of other highly specific edicts. Well, I prefer fucking my husband without witnesses, Steve had replied, just to see him pull a face, and Billy had chirped, faux-innocent, Unless the price is right. Or unless plied with endless mournful meows and wide, shining, plaintive eyes, apparently, because in no time they had a mound of fur curled at their feet from dusk till dawn.

Despite his exhaustion, despite the comforting warmth of Mews that bled through the covers, despite the meditation exercise to clear his mind, Steve couldn’t drift off for hours, couldn’t stop the steady leak of tears that oozed from the corner of closed lids to his unwashed hair.

Because Billy’s side of the bed was an echoing void at his side, an emptiness cold and loud as an arctic gale. Now and then he nudged Mews with a foot just to hear him snuffle, like an anxious mother checking her silent newborn still breathed. 

Think of a wonderful thought, he heard—Billy’s voice, hushed and fond. And like he always did, Steve huffed, “Okay, Peter,” and finally sank into memories that didn’t stab at him the way they had for days.

Tomorrow, he reminded himself, and relaxed. By this time tomorrow, Billy would be whole and hale and back in his arms. He’d kiss him and hold him. Tell him he loved him.

Tomorrow.

Chapter 2

[lady-o-ren]

A NIGHT IN THE WOOD

AO3 link (HERE)

//

A thunderstorm lights up the sky above a cottage somewhere deep in the mountains, belonging to the lady of the wood.

Some say she can take flight as a raven, white of feather.  

Others, a witch who feasts on the fair and young. 

But those who seek her out know her as a wisewoman who can heal the sick from whatever ails them.

Be they man or . . .

And though the hour is late, she pounds her pestle into her mortar. Over and over again. It doesn't matter that her fingers are growing stiff from the repetition or that her eyes crystal with tears. She's still too angry, too regretful, to allow herself to stop.

But as the storm continues on, her cottage shaking with each bolt of thunder that disturbs the herbs hanging above to scatter down upon her,  the lady hears a strange noise coming from outside her door that makes her jump and drop her pestle. Something that sounds like -

Scratch, Scratch, Scratch. 

Hand at her heart, she hurries to lift the latch at the door and opens it wide, knowing it's more than just a gust of wind she hears and finds . . . An odd but familiar sight.

A fox has taken refuge on her doorstep, beaten from the rain and wind. His red coat is soaked and he's shivering so that the rabbit he offers to her in his maw seems to tremble as well. 

But his eyes are unwavering and gleam with love that knows no end. Along with great remorse for what a wretched beast he's been. A star-flecked blue that nearly smites her heart. 

If only she didn't think him so devious for trying to gain her sympathy by presenting himself in his furs. 

"Come on then, before you catch your death,"  Claire says. Her tone is not unkind but there's no tenderness in her words either. For all is not quite forgiven just yet.

So, with his ears pinned back and tail between his legs, the exhausted fox takes a few tentative steps inside, body slacked low to the floor. 

And then he sneezes. 

Once. Then twice.

A squeaky sound that nearly makes her laugh.

"No need to put on a show, Jamie," she says, making more of an effort to soften her voice as she moves to the corner to snatch the quilt off their bed. "I promise I won't go at you with the broom again. But I refuse to speak to you as you are. Now get to the hearth and shift from those furs so I can warm you properly." 

But when Claire turns back around she finds her dear fox lying lifeless on the wooden floor in a puddle of rainwater turning black with blood. 

"Jamie!"  The lady of the wood cries.

She falls to her knees beside him and presses her hand to his chest, her palm flickering with a blue radiant light that pulses from her inner being through him. Searching, searching for a beat . . .

//

The red fox wakes sometime later to the soft patter of rain and something savory cooking in the air.

He's been washed and mended and is laying beneath a heavy quilt atop the bed. He thinks he's maybe human now, but just to be sure, he wiggles his long toes and tries to speak.

"Claire," Jamie rasps, tasting the bitter tang of his lady's tonic on his tongue and lips. "Mo chridhe . . ." He tries again, this time opening his eyes, seeking the face of his heart who comes swiftly to his bedside. 

"Hush, love," whispers Claire, smoothing the thick mass of hair from off his brow, her touch infused with warmth and gentleness just as her voice. "You need your rest." 

Jamie grunts trying to sit up anyway, but only manages to push himself up on one elbow.

"What I need is you. Your forgiveness. I had no right to do as I did wi'out telling ye and then to speak to ye in such a way -"

She presses her fingertips to his mouth bristled dark red like his furs around the corners curled into a frown. 

"You're forgiven, Jamie. But I need you to forgive me too. There was no reason for me to be so angry with you, not when you were only trying to protect us. Like you always do. "

He sits up straighter and lays a big hand over hers, bringing it flat to his bare chest where the beat of his heart thumps the same fervent, aching rhythm as hers. 

"There's nothing to forgive, Claire. My heart has been yers since first I saw ye, and my devotion too for keeping my soul and body safe between these hands here. "

His mouth twitches.

"Though I will say I've learned to never cross a woman holding a broom. Ye ken my arse is still stinging like holy hell? "

Claire doesn't share his smile. 

"You're lucky it was only my broom. If that monster ever figures out who you are, where you've been hiding -"

Her voice suddenly breaks as her fingers curl like talons into the warm flesh of his breast.

Jamie holds her by both arms, unflinching. "He won't, Claire. I promise ye. Ye needn't worry for me or us."

"But if he did," she lifts her gaze, burning a fierce otherworldly gold. "I'd break my oath for you Jamie. To never harm nor kill."

 "Ye'll do no such thing," he snarls, tightening his grip on her and gives her a little shake. " I've blood on my hands already but you - I'd never forgive myself for having ye taint the purity of yer God given gift for me."

"You think I care more for myself than you? That I love you less?" Claire lays a hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing the bold bones beneath. "I'd do it, Jamie, and gladly. "

He swallows thickly and leans his brow against hers. "I know ye would, mo ghràdh. Just as I would go to the stake wi ye."

After a long breathless moment, she nuzzles her nose against his and says softly against his mouth. 

"Thank you for bringing home dinner." 

Jamie smiles crookedly. "Least I could do for my lady when she patches me up." And intends to leave a trail of kisses down her neck when she pulls away, protesting. 

"I meant what I said, Jamie. You need to rest," she says, running the back of her hand over his jaw. "Or would you rather have a bit of stew?"

"Damn the stew. I'd rather take a bite out of you," Jamie growls, and falls back into bed with his lady in his arms to do just that. He nips at the soft skin of her neck while his eager hands ruck up her homespun dress, revealing skin more luminous than pearl and finer than silk beneath. There's even bitty leaves in her hair as if she sprouted from the earth for him to pluck and keep forever. 

But then she swats him away. 

"Jamie!" 

He groans, voice gruff with unfulfilled need as he rolls to his side, wincing a little from where she healed him, but keeps a firm grip of her plump backside. 

"I thought you were supposed to warm me? " He pouts. 

Claire sighs, brushing her curls from her flushed cheeks, having come undone. She knows how this will end, and the anticipation of devouring each other whole has her pulse pounding like a kettledrum down to her fingertips. But the healer in her just needs to make sure. 

"Are you even up to it?"

Jamie arches a ruddy brow, face so deadly serious that it's almost comical. 

"Do ye really need to ask?" 

The lady of the wood rolls her eyes yet smiles wide, biting her deliciously pink bottom lip. And untangles herself from her lover's embrace and very slowly begins to undress.

//

A/N:

I wrote two versions of this nonsense but couldn't decide on which one I liked better (not that this is outstanding writing or anything) The top part was version two. This bottom one is actually what I wrote first.

*There's also a loose quote in the version above from the book describing how Claire holds Jamie's life in her hands.

//

"You're forgiven, Jamie. But I need you to forgive me too. There was no reason for me to be so angry with you, not when you were only trying to protect us. Like you always do. "

He sits up straighter and lays a big hand over hers, bringing it flat to his bare chest.

"There's nothing to forgive. My heart has been yers since first I saw ye, and my devotion too for keeping my soul and body safe between these hands here. "

His mouth twitches.

"Though I will say I've learned to never cross a woman holding a broom. Ye ken my arse is still stinging like holy hell?"

"Well you deserved it, my wee fox," says Claire, tugging at the curly hairs on his chest.

Jamie snarls playfully and wraps his arms around her, bringing her close.

"I wasn't arguing any differently, vixen. But I could use a bit of your womanly sympathy. "

"Healing you wasn't enough?" She smiles coyly, running the back of her hand over his jaw. "What even took a bite out of you anyway?"

Jamie pokes his tongue out to lick the tip of her finger. She tastes of garlic and onions and meat with traces of her terrible tonic too.

"Twas my own fault. I wasn't looking where I was going, not that I could see really with all the rain, and came head to head with a mangy wolf. He wanted our supper. But I was faster."

"Not nearly fast enough," frowns Claire, thinking about the dark ugly bruise on his side, all that remained of the encounter. "I thought you died on my floor!"

Jamie shrugs, grinning cheekily.

"I wouldn't have died. Not wi' ye around, mo ghràdh. "

"Lucky you," she sighs, sounding rather annoyed, but nuzzles her nose against his. "But do try to avoid anything with sharp teeth next time. I've grown rather fond of you and your fluffy tail."

He chuckles warmly. "I promise, a nighean." And intends to leave a trail of kisses down her neck when she pulls away, protesting.

"I meant what I said, Jamie. You need to rest. Or would you rather have a bit of stew?"

"Damn the stew. I'd rather take a bite out of you." Jamie growls, and falls back into bed with his lady in his arms to do just that. He nips at the soft skin of her neck while his hands ruck up her homespun dress, revealing skin more luminous than pearl and finer than silk beneath. There's even bitty leaves in her hair as if she sprouted from the earth for him to pluck and keep forever.

But then she swats him away.

He groans, voice gruff with unfulfilled need as he rolls to his side, wincing a little, but keeps a firm grip of her plump backside.

"I thought you were supposed to warm me? " He pouts.

Claire sighs, brushing her curls from her flushed cheeks, having come undone. She knows how this will end, and the anticipation of devouring each other whole has her pulse pounding like a kettledrum down to her fingertips. But the healer in her just needs to make sure.

"Are you even up to it?"

Jamie arches a ruddy brow, face so deadly serious that it's almost comical.

"Do ye really need to ask?"

The lady of the wood rolls her eyes yet smiles wide, biting her deliciously pink bottom lip. And untangles herself from her lover's embrace and very slowly begins to undress.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from three anons. Naughty, naughtier, naughtiest. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2426 Warnings: shameless Christmas smut

Additional NSFW warnings: dom!Loki, usage of anal sex toy, orgasm control, forced orgasm(s)

-

Feeling all warm and fuzzy, you snuggled in closer to your mischievous boyfriend. After three weeks of persistent persuasion, you had finally talked Loki into watching Christmas movies with you and to be quite frank, you were convinced he secretly enjoyed them.

A comedy was on tonight, of a young couple suffering from the usual pre-Christmas stress including eccentric in-laws and turkeys burnt to a cinder. You had been giggling throughout, knowing very well it was a rather accurate representation of how chaotic Christmas could be. In fact, you could hardly wait for this year, given it would be Loki’s and your first time celebrating it together as a couple.

“I recall you telling me that those sex scenes in films are staged unless you watch a… what was it?”

“Porn movie?”

“Yes. I must admit, she is terrible at staging it.” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“She is doing it on purpose. She is faking her orgasm.” You explained, staring at the screen. The male protagonist was wearing a Santa hat and a fake white beard—nothing else. He had surprised his girlfriend who had just gotten home from a long and exhausting day at work and even though she appreciated it, she was just too tired for sex.

“Why in the nine would she do that? That is rather pathetic for the male part.”

You blushed. You too had faked your orgasms sometimes when you were in bed with Loki.

“Um… well… she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. You know women take longer to get there and sometimes… they’re just too tired or not in the right mind set.” You yawned. “Much like today.” You added.

Loki paused the movie with but a wave of his hand and turned to face, looking you dead in the eye. “Are you implying something?” Oh, shit… you had a feeling this would bruise his godly ego.

“I… I-I only did it a few times. Once or twice. Okay, maybe a little bit more often than that. B-but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever—“

“You are what?” He bellowed. There we go.

“Loki! Listen to me, you are the most mind-blowing lover I’ve ever had. It’s like I just said, sometimes I’m too tired or have so much going on at work that I can’t let go… it’s got nothing to do with you!” You insisted.

“That is unacceptable.” He said after an uncomfortable break.

“W-what does that mean?”

Loki gave you a meaningful look. His tone was downright spiteful when he spoke again. “Let’s just finish the movie, shall we?”

You were a little surprised he let you cuddle with him again but you couldn’t focus on the film anymore anyway.

“Are you… mad at me?” You chirped after a while, your cheek against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

“No. I am not.” You were not convinced. He was up to something.

-

The next morning started all but merry. You woke Loki with a few wet kisses, quietly singing O Christmas Tree to elicit a response.

Loki groaned, a smile playing on his lips. He didn’t need a lot of sleep but he truly didn’t like being woken up by anyone but his own body when it deemed him rested enough.

You giggled, his raven hair tickling your skin. You barely made it out of bed to open the very last door of your advent calendar and then moved to get dressed. As usual, Loki was a lot faster, simply magicking clothes onto his body without so much as blinking.

You were late. The Avengers were probably already waiting for you in the living room where Tony had put up a massive Christmas tree. And massive it was—it stood almost twenty feet high, about six metres, as far as you were concerned, and the billionaire had had to use his suit to hang up all the baubles and ornaments as well as the shining star on top. And before you had gone to sleep last night, you had sneaked your presents for everyone under the tree.

You bit your lower lip, hoping that Loki wasn’t still taken aback by your involuntary confession last night. You had meant what you had said. He was an amazing lover but sometimes… you just weren’t feeling it but still didn’t want to disappoint him or let him down. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come on, Trickster, let’s see what Santa brought.”

“Hold up.” Loki said. “Turn around for me.”

You raised your eyebrows, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. So you did as you were told and gasped when he forced you to bend over so your upper body came to rest on the bed again, your backside in plain view for him to admire.

“Hey! Loki!” You giggled during your weak protest, then bit your lower lip. Did he want to… now? Hmm… Christmas morning sex. Your heartbeat sped up as you wiggled your behind a bit, arousal already pooling between your legs.

You heard him chuckle behind you but instead of his hard cock at your wet entrance, you suddenly felt something hard and cold press against your back entrance.

“L-Loki…” You had tried toys of the like before, especially right before sex and you had enjoyed it very much but now was definitely not the time. You were about to head downstairs to the Christmas tree, exchanging presents and having a hearty breakfast with the Avengers, there was no way you were going to…

You gasped when he slid the clearly lubed plug into your rear, and it went in with little resistance. Loki knew your body so well it almost scared you. That, and you were already soaking wet and responsive to your butthole being pampered in such a way.

“Hmm… are we enjoying ourselves?” Loki mused, smirking as he led you over to the mirror to let you admire his work. The plug was a little bigger than what you were using for sex but still oddly comfortable to wear. What stood out the most to you, however, was the fact it was golden, with a green jewel attached to it and decorating your buttocks. “You are positively dripping, my dear.”

You bit your lower lip once more, mouth all of a sudden completely dry.

“It looks hot and beautiful at the same time.” You admitted, meeting his blue eyes in the mirror.

“Consider it a Christmas gift.” He said with a wink. Your eyes widened when he slid your comfy trousers back on and turned to leave the room.

“Hang on there. What are you doing?”

Loki tilted his head, playing innocent. “I am meeting my brother and his silly friends for Christmas.”

“W-what… oh my goodness. This is about last night, isn’t it? You want revenge, is that right?”

Loki smirked. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my love. Now… let us head downstairs, shall we?” You only glared at him in response, tensing up when his hand wrapped around your arm and stopped you in the threshold. “You will regret it dearly if you secretly try to take this out before I allow you to do so.” He hissed into your ear. Your walls clenched. This was certainly going to be your most interesting Christmas yet.

-

You had been right indeed. Crouching down to get the presents out from under the tree proved extremely difficult wearing a butt plug—at least, it proved extremely difficult to not moan in front of everyone.

Loki’s smirk never faltered, not even when he received your present and thanked you with a passionate kiss right in front of the Avengers. If only they knew… you had no idea what else Loki had in store for you once the two of you were alone again.

Christmas dinner posed as equally difficult. Sitting calmly at the table, enjoying the delicious turkey and treats and conversing without wiggling around like a child was nearly impossible. For the first time ever, you were glad when the festivities were over and you could finally retreat to bed, hoping that Loki would fuck your brains out before you fell asleep tonight.

You stood in front of him, arms akimbo when his clothes melted off of his body and he threw back the covers of the bed to get comfortable when you returned from the bathroom.

“Are you serious? Loki!”

“Oh dear… I almost forgot.” He lied, once again smirking like a cat that got the cream. “Lie down, little minx. Tell me, are you aching?” He teased, chuckling darkly.

“No!” You spat sarcastically, unable to hide your amusement. “I have been horny all day, you tease!”

“Have you now?” He was grinning now. Your heart skipped a beat when he snapped his fingers and then pointed at the bed for you to lie down. At this point, you did not even want to pretend to resist and be bratty for a bit.

Eager for your release (and knowing fully well this was his vengeance) you climbed on the mattress and gaped up at him with anticipation. But Loki took his time. Slowly and while eyeing you like a wild predator he joined in bed, tugging at your clothes in the process.

“Take them off.” He growled. You were panting when you did as you were told, all until you were completely naked except for the butt plug still snugly inside of your rear. A squeal escaped your lips when he lunged at you with a start, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a lying position. His scrutinising and downright lustful gaze never left yours as he sneaked his hand between your legs, right where you wanted him the most and dipped a finger in your folds.

“My… you are gushing.” You bucked your hips up against him, too impatient to listen to him talk dirty like that but his hand was already travelling upwards again, fingertips ghosting over your skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. You gasped when he circled your left breast and played with your already hardening nipple until you were whimpering for him.

“Loki, please…” You begged, biting your lower lip to appear innocent. The God of Mischief chuckled.

“So desperate?” He uttered, fingers returning to your cunt. You shivered when his thumb ghosted over your clit, giving it a gentle stroke. You had been on edge all day it would not at all take you long to finally be granted your long-awaited relief, even less so when Loki buried two of his long fingers inside you without any forewarning, curling them to massage your g-spot and circling your impatient clit with his thumb. His fingers were magic. No, he was magic. If only the world knew what a skilled lover Loki was they would change their mind about him being a megalomaniac villain and shower him with affection and fanmerch instead.

Moaning, you threw your head back, meeting the thrusts of his digits by bucking your hips hungrily. Loki could tell you were close already. You were tightening around his fingers, your breathing so fast he feared you might lose consciousness.

A satisfied growl escaped his lips when you came, milking his fingers as endless waves of pleasure rolled over your body, making you moan his name. Only Loki did not stop once all the bliss slowly started to fade away, your clit complaining about the ongoing stimulation.

“Again. Now.” Loki growled.

“W-what?”

“I want another. How can I be sure you truly came, after all?” He mused. You groaned. So it was revenge after all. He knew exactly you had come.

“I d-did… w-what… I can’t… Loki… oh, fuck…” He knew you could. He knew your body could. Still fingering you relentlessly, he tossed you straight into another hot orgasm as his thumb returned to your clit. Your back arched, fingers digging into the bed sheets as you clenched rhythmically around his long digits. Heavens, it felt even more intense with the butt plug still snugly inside of you.

“L-Loki… stop… s-stop, please…” You breathed, unable to form a proper sentence.

“Oh no, my dear… you can give me one more. Just so I can be completely sure.” He replied hoarsely, knowing that you could take it and would react differently if you truly had enough. It was the mix of pleasure and your strong feelings for him that made your mind turn like a spinning wheel, unable to stop or escape the tornado of emotions and relentless bliss. So he kept going, tormenting your already overstimulated bundle of nerves until your toes curled.

“Don’t you ever dare fake an orgasm with me again.” He growled into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your skin. Pleasant shivers ran up and down your spine, yet you were unable to answer him. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his back, pulling his upper body closer to yours to urge him on, his name leaving your lips like a prayer as he brought you to a third orgasm making you see stars.

Panting, it took you quite a while to come down from your high again as Loki helped you ride out your climax before finally removing his now slick fingers and licking them clean with relish. When he made no move to position himself between your legs and get some relief himself, you let your head fall back into the soft pillows, making Loki chuckle.

“No falling asleep just yet, my love. Let me remove the jewel from that lovely behind of yours first.” Your eyes fell shut nonetheless, an acknowledging sound the only form of communication you could still muster as you let Loki gently take out the plug. You would have drifted off to sleep there and then, without a blanket, if Loki didn’t scoop you up like a cherished bride and wrapped you under the covers before cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Loki.” You muttered, eyes still shut tiredly.

“Whatever for?”

“I never meant to offend you when I faked, I just wanted you to have your fun even when I wasn’t in the mood.”

“I know. Don’t lie to me again. Ever. There is no point for me to take pleasure from you if I am unable to return the favour.”

You smiled. You really had the most amazing boyfriend in the world. Well… which was probably because he was in fact, not from this world. No Christmas present could ever compete.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[killemwithkawaii]

What do you think yandery sal and Larry would do if there fem S.O tide themselves to the bed and told them to do whatever they wanted.

Double Trouble and their tied up Fem!S/O-

(NS/FW warnings under the cut)

(CW: SalxAFAB readerxLarry, bondage, group sex, slight degradation/teasing, unsanitary, double penetration, oral sex, anal sex...- this thing is long and gets LEWD (but also wholesome) enjoy~ 💕💦)

It took a moment for the whole scene to sink in for Sal and Larry: their girlfriend, [y/n], greeting the pair sheepishly as she laid on her back, already naked and tied to the bedposts. She explained that she was basically serving herself up on a silver platter for the ravenous pair to feast, and the two were quickly in agreement that this was not an opportunity to be wasted. On the contrary, it was one that should certainly be savored...

Safewords had been discussed between all parties much before this. It wasn't at all unusual for their lovemaking to take a kinky turn, and while pain and degradation could come into play, the last thing the boys wanted to do was cause their darling any harm. They knew what she enjoyed, what her weak spots were, her hard limits and how far she liked to be pushed, so there was no need for a lengthy discussion before the two approached.

[Y/n] had expected (or at least hoped for) them to go right into fucking her senseless- she had showered, set out their small toy collection on the nightstand for easy access and tied herself securely to the bed before her partners had gotten home. She had been lying there for a good half an hour since, her anticipation building as her mind wandered, wondering what exactly would be done to her when she was found... She was already plenty wet, and the boys were quick to start making comments about the whole scene.

"Wow [y/n], the sheets already have a spot- how long have you been waiting for us to come home," Sal wondered aloud.

"And what have you been thinking about us doing, exactly? You have like, every toy we own out. Well, except for- oh..."

Larry had nudged her thighs open a little to get a better look at how aroused she already was, and found that the plug that was absent from the lineup of toys was already in place- [y/n] had meant it when she had told them she was ready for anything upon her discovery, and her partners exchanged a mischievous glance before they settled in on either side of her.

They began speaking into her ears in low voices, playfully teasing and scolding her for being so unabashedly debaucherous. They ran their hands lightly up her arms, down her neck, over her torso and thighs, making a point to avoid touching her more sensitive areas, despite her quiet whimpers meant to urge them to do otherwise. She had gotten herself so excited before they'd even walked in the door, and she was already getting impatient.

"What's wrong, [y/n]? Are you that desperate for us to take advantage of you already," Larry asked with mock-surprise.

"Heh," Sal chuckled, joining Larry in his taunting, "what if we don't feel like it, though? What if we just wanna watch you lie here and squirm...?"

Her whimpering gave way into quiet begging as they continued their teasing- nibbling and licking her ears and neck and gently pinching her nipples as she began to writhe, leaning into their torturously light touches. It was exactly what they wanted, to see her resolve crumble, hear her breathy voice demand exactly what she had been fantasizing about, her carnal need overshadowing any shame that was holding her back from seeking honest satisfaction. Larry and Sal were happy to oblige her... once the string of thoughts she was moaning became explicit and desperate enough.

"Please! Please, touch me already... fuck me- both of you, please, don't tease me anymore, I need it! Please...!!" She was straining against the ropes she had tied to her own wrists, tempted to undo the knots and take care of business herself, if her partners insisted on torturing her for much longer.

Sal is the first to indulge her, tracing two fingers over her clit and slowly dipping them inside her. She gasped and bucked against his hand, seeking to increase the friction, but he kept his pace even and slow.

"Aw dude, you're fingering her already? She could have handled at least a couple more minutes..."

"I know, but look at her, Larry! And she did say, 'please...'. I think we can at least help take the edge off a little."

"Heh. You're too nice for your own good sometimes, Sally..."

Despite what he said, Larrys hand trailed down to join Sals, also inserting two digits and enjoying the resulting  look on [y/n]s face, her eyes growing wide as she watched the two finger-fuck her.

"Ooohh..."

"How’s that, [y/n]," Her opinion was pretty obvious, but Sal always liked to hear her say it out loud.

"Ugh, it's so good...! But I... I want more. Can you...?"

They both knew that she was about to ask them to fuck her properly, but they didn't see any need to rush into that- they wanted to take their time (and make her see stars) before they started focusing on themselves.

The two started kissing down her body, Larry lingering at her breasts for a moment before joining Sal between her legs. They continued to pump their fingers into her pussy, picking up the pace as the two began making a grand and lewd display of kissing one another, occasionally glancing up at [y/n] to make sure she was still watching them. They spread her lips with their free hands and lowered their heads, sandwiching her clit between their tongues as they firmly slid them against each other. The low moans coming from their throats sent light vibrations across her sensitive nerves, and, having already been whipped into a frenzy from their prolonged foreplay, [y/n] reached her first climax quickly and suddenly. She let out a clipped yelp as her back arched of the mattress, and both men held her in place to keep her from wriggling away from their mouths as she rode out her orgasm.

Her body fell back to the bed, and her lovers observed her for a moment as she tried to regain her senses, licking their lips with hunger before they began shifting positions- They untied her limp wrists from the posts and folded them behind her back before retying the knot, which allowed the pair to maneuver her how they wished. [Y/n] was gingerly laid on top of Sal, her legs splayed and her cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and down her back, and it felt so soothing, she felt she could have drifted off to sleep, had the click of a plastic bottle cap and the feeling of the mattress shifting under Larrys weight behind her not alerted her to his intentions.

She whined and jerked reflexively when she felt his fingers graze her ass and trail to the handle of the plug, only for him and Sal to grab her hips and put her back in position.

"Oh, no you don't...," Sal scolded.

"Where do you think you're going, [y/n]? You said we could do anything we wanted, riiight?"

"You're not backing out on us, are you? Such a tease..."

She knew they were only playing, that she could say 'yes, I take it back,' and she would be untied within seconds with no questions asked. She trusted both of them whole-heartedly, enough to leave herself completely at their mercy (if that wasn't evident by the position she had put herself in earlier). She knew they held her comfort above their own pleasure... which helped to calm the butterflies in her stomach and help her to relax once more.

"No, I... I want you to..."

"Hm? I can't quite hear you from back here..."

"I want you to!"

Sal tipped her jaw upward to face him.

"What do you want us to do, [y/n]? We want to hear you say it..."

She swallowed hard and her face flushed, knowing they wouldn't move forward without her asking (or, rather, pleading) for them to do so.

"I want you two... I want you both to fuck me. Right now...." She pouted. "Pleeease~?" She gave an inviting wiggle with her ass to punctuate the 'please,' and that was enough of an invitation for Larry and Sal to stop holding themselves back any longer.

Larry once again gripped the plug handle, ever-so-slowly pulling it from her body and setting it aside to be dealt with later. Sal continued to soothe her as Larry pressed his already-lubed cock against her and gently pushed forward, groaning as the ring of muscle gradually began to give way to him. The intrusion felt odd, but not unwelcomed, and she concentrated on staying relaxed until the shallow friction started to become increasingly pleasant. She began to rock lightly to meet his thrusts, grinding herself against Sal as she did so, but Larry slowed to a stand-still inside of her after a few moments.

"Ahh... why are you stopping?"

"Heh. Why? Are you starting to like it," Larry goaded her on. She could hear the smirk on his face.

She hid against Sals chest and nodded, hoping the silent admission would be enough for him to continue.

"Are you ready for more, then...?"

She knew what Sal was suggesting, and she once again nodded, her ears and cheeks burning with a bitter-sweet mixture of embarrassment and arousal. [Y/n] felt Sal slip his hand between them and position his thick cock between her slickened lips, but he pushed in only enough to ensure it would stay in place. Neither of them moved until she began to whine once more.

"C'mon guys, enough teasing already..!"

"What, you expect us to do all the work," Larry snorted.

"Yeah, you wanted this, right? Then show us just how much..."

She bit her lip and tentatively pushed backward onto both of them, moving as much as she could while still tied. The boys began rocking their hips in tandem with her, getting progressively deeper, until she was taking them both almost completely. Her eyes began rolling back as they all found a rhythm, the sounds of slapping flesh and their collective panting and moaning filling the room. All three quickly lost themselves in the act, in the mounting pleasure, in the intimacy and trust inherent in the moment. Sal had his arms wrapped around [y/n] as he thrusted into her, and Larry gripped her hips as he did the same, the two peppering kisses on whatever parts of her and each other that their mouths could reach. The kink and roleplay and power dynamic had slipped away at some point, [y/n] having worked her wrists free of the purposefully-loose knot so she could clutch her partners as tightly as they held her. The threesome had become just that- three people who cared deeply for one another, making love together in order to achieve their mutual gratification and a collective satisfaction of their desires.

It was unclear who came undone first, as it all seemed to blur together in one ecstatic crescendo, but the three ended up spent and lying in a sweaty pile on the bed. They slowly came down from their high and caught their breath, limbs tangled in a dazed effort to keep each other close. [Y/n] eventually let out a sigh and smiled widely.

"Ugh, that was awesome...~"

"Heh. Agreed," Sal nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head as he nodded.

"...you should tie yourself up more often, [y/n]," Larry suggested as he stared at the ceiling, still pretty spaced out.

"Eh, give me a few minutes... and maybe another shower..."

"Oh, are we going for round two," Larry suddenly perked up at the suggestion.

"I vote we order pizza first," Sal put his hand on his stomach. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving..."

"I could definitely eat."

"What, my pussy wasn't enough of a meal for you two?" [y/n] said with feigned indignation.

"It was tasty, but not very filling..." Sal admitted.

"Pfft ahaha..."

"Ehehe, that's fair... ah, I love you guys. So, so much...~" She squeezed Larry and Sal in a tight hug.

"We love you, too, [y/n]," 💕

"More than anything,"💕

"Mmm~," she gave them each a kiss and let her head fall back onto the pillow. "Ah... Okay, yeah, I'm feeling it. Let's talk toppings, boys...~"

[aquariuscurly94]

Unwelcome Visitor

Summary: Raven gets an unexpected visitor from an enemy. And it’s one that she knows very well. Damian Al Ghul.

AN: HAPPY FREAKING DAMIRAE WEEK!!!! Eeeppp!!! Hope you guys will love this cuz it’s a bit uhhhh steamy ha!

It wasn’t the pounding of the rain that was on her roof of her apartment that had woken the sleeping empath. Nor was it the clap of thunder that came a few seconds later, brightening up her room briefly before it had gone dark again.

None of these things would’ve woken her up from her sleep.

No. It was a familiar wave of emotions that had disturbed her.

Raven laid still in her purple covers as she tried to figure out a plan of action. Her lavender eyes looked at her Titans Communicator that was lying on top of her dresser. She thought about grabbing it and make a call but knew that by the time the others would arrive he would’ve been long gone.

Maybe this is her chance to finally get some answers. There has to be a reason why he had come to her apartment. She took a deep breath and without moving from her bed she finally spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you too, Raven.”

Raven sat up in her bed and narrowed her eyes when Damian Al Ghul came out from the dark corner of her room wearing his full gold and green armor from the League of Assassins. He held a smirk when he walked over to lean against the wall of her window as his eyes scanned across her room. “Nice apartment,” he commented, his smirk never leaving his face when he turned to look at her.

“What are you doing here, Damian?” Raven repeated, folding her arms across her chest.

“Can’t I visit an old friend?” he asked, scoffing at her question with a shake of his head.

“We’re not friends.” Raven reminded him, grounding her teeth together as she balled her sheets with her hand tightly. “Our friendship ended the moment you left to join the League.”

Damian made a Tt sound at her. His forest orbs looked around her apartment once more. “What made you move out of that Tower? Did you finally had enough of the insufferable Garfield Logan?”

“Tell me why you are here. Or I will send you to another dimension,” Raven threatened, taking deep breaths as she could feel her magic growing inside of her with each passing second. “Or better yet, how about you leave? You are not welcomed here.”

“I will in a few minutes. I have to do something first,” he told her, leaning off the wall and walked over towards Raven with a frown on his face.

Raven moved back towards the headboard of her bed with a raised hand, and she could feel her eyes growing dark when she could see a pool of magic started to form around her hand. “Stay away from me Damian. Azarath Metrion Zin—” her eyes widen in surprise when he had easily caught her wrist and had pushed her back on the bed with him slightly on her. She tried to break free of his hold, but each attempt his hold on her wrist got tighter. “Let go of me. Now.”

“I came here specifically to give a warning,” Damian told her lowly, leaning in closer to her ear and Raven tried not to shiver as his warm breath tickled her pale skin while he pinned both of her wrists above her head. “Maybe he’ll listen to you,” he said with a snort.

“Tell him what exactly?” she asked, glaring up at him and she knew exactly who he was referring to.

“Tell Grayson that his little plan of his won’t work. I will not hesitate to use my assassins to fight back whatever it takes.”

“You could’ve gone straight to him to tell him that. Yet you came here. Why?” Raven asked, wiggling beneath him to get free of his hold that he has on her. “I will not ask you again to let go of me.”

The empath and the former hero glared at each other before Damian decided to let her wrists go. Raven hoped that he would move off from her but instead he had placed his hands on each side of her head and neither of them said anything to each other. “Come back to us Damian. That’s why he’s doing this.” Raven pleaded, making sure to look into his intense emeralds.

Damian pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked down at the powerful daughter of Trigon beneath him. “I am not coming back. You should give up while you still have lives,” he hissed out at her.

Silence followed them and Raven tried to read Damian’s emotions, frowning deeply when she realized that he had put a block on them. She finally figured out that he had only let down his wall to let her know that he was inside her apartment and had quickly put them up afterward she had discovered him. She started to remember of the rare times that he had let down his walls and let her inside his mind. Back then, they were close and there were times she even had a slightest thought that maybe— Raven bit the inside of her cheek harshly and quickly ignored that last train of thought.

“Stop trying to get inside my head,” Damian demanded, breaking into her thoughts. “I won’t let you inside. Never again.”

“Damian.”

“Tt. I gave you my warning.” Damian said, sliding off from Raven and walked over towards her window to leave.

“Wait.” Raven said before she could stop herself when she watched him unhook the latches on her window. He didn’t turn around when she spoke, and she could see that he held on the edge of the window tightly with his tan fingers. “You might’ve blocked me out, but I still know how to read you. You could’ve gone to Dick and you didn’t. Care to tell me why?”

Damian turned his head slightly to look at her. She braced herself for his answer even though deep down, she already knew. How? Because his big red brick wall that he would constantly have up went down the moment she had asked the question.

“You already know why, Raven.”

Raven slowly met him by the window standing behind him. She wanted to reach out to touch the upper part of his shoulder that was covered by his gold and green armor but held back and instead rolled up her hand into a fist by her side. “Then that should be enough for you to come back. If you truly—”

“Don’t you dare try and use that against me, Raven. It won’t work.” Damian interrupted, turning his whole body to face her. His eyes widen slightly when he noticed the proximity the two young adults were. “I had offered you a place at my side if you were to join me.”

Raven rolled her amethyst eyes at him as she huffed. “You know damn well that’s not going to happen, Damian you know that.” She snarled out in a hiss, taking a step closer to until they were nose to nose.

The former Robin took a step back from her and narrowed his eyes into slits. “If Grayson goes through with his ridiculous plan, I will not hesitate to fight with full force to take down my enemies. And that includes you,” he said, his voice was filled with acid and Raven tried her best not to react when she felt a wave of anger that was coming from him when he had briefly let his wall down again.

Purple meets green when Damian moved closer to her and Raven pushed him back with her hands. She could feel her anger brewing inside her. Her breathing became hard as she continues to push him backwards with her hands. She was hoping that he would fight back, or at least prevent her from pushing him on his armored chest.

When his back was pressed against the wall, she used one of her hands to aim at his smooth olive skin face. But before it had made contact, he catches her hand easily in a tight hold. “Enough, Raven,” he said in a quiet voice, narrowing his green irises at her. “Make sure you give Grayson my warning.” He let go of her hand and made his way over to the window to leave her room.

Raven wasn’t sure what made her do it and knew that there was a chance of her regretting her decision that she was making. However, he was leaving and knew that the next time she would see him would be at the Nanda Parbat. But in that moment, on this stormy night, she didn’t care about what happens tomorrow.

She turned him around and her lips landed on his in a fierce kiss and brought him closer when she wrapped her pale arms around his neck. She gasped when she could feel herself being lifted by his strength and used her legs to wrap around his waist as he brought them back over to her bed.

They were both breathing heavily when Damian broke away from the kiss and stared down at her beautiful eccentric lilac irises that he could easily find himself lost in. He used a hand to place it down underneath her black tank top and he could feel her shiver at his warm touch against her skin. “Do you want this?” he asked, moving his hand upwards towards one of her breasts. “Will you regret it?”

Raven breathed in and out when the tips of Damian’s fingers started to play with one her nipples. She closed her eyes tightly at the touch as she bit her lower lip. She opened her eyes to stare into his green ones. “I don’t know if I am going to regret it,” she finally answered him softly and she watched him and was starting to pull away from her. “But I do want this,” she quickly added in a whisper.

She used her hand to grip the back of his neck in order to have his mouth back on hers once more and few minutes later their clothes were thrown off somewhere across the room and they had paused their moments briefly as he lined himself against her. He whispered her name as he finally entered inside her and Raven did the same as he started moving at a steady pace.

“Damian,” Raven moaned breathlessly when he had continued to thrust in and out of her in swift movements. She dug her nails on his upper bare back and she heard him groan at her touch. “Please. I-I need—“

“What do you need, Raven?” Damian asked her huskily against her ear, leaning down to nibble on her neck which cause her body to move upwards against him. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Please, faster. Harder.”

He made sure to give her what she had commanded. To make sure that she would remember what it had felt like when he was inside her. Because he knew that after tonight, if his older brother did decide to go through with his plan with the other Titans, they would be enemies once more. He wasn’t lying to her when he told her that he would fight her if the older hero didn’t heed his warning, and if he knows his brother and he certainly does, he will go through with his idiotic plan to take down the League in attempt to get him back.

Despite everything that might happen the next day, he certainly didn’t mind being her lover for just one night.

They were both out of breath as he wrapped his tan muscular arms around her tiny body. Neither of them said anything to each other. He used his fingers to run through her plum hair and sighed heavily. “Raven.”

Raven shook her head against his chest as she tried to savor the moment that had transpired between them. “Don’t.” She told him as she closed her eyes to let sleep take over, knowing that in next few hours he would be gone.

**********************

She was right of course when she woke up a few hours later alone in her bed. She tried not to think much of it as she listens to Dick’s plan in the mission room with the other Titans. After explaining the plan, she watched the other Titans leave the room. She stayed behind in the back and watched him whispered something into Kori’s ear before she had walked away from him, smiling at her as she left them alone.

“There’s something on your mind. I may not be an empath, but I can tell.” Dick told her as she walked over to stand next to him. “What is it, Raven?”

“He found me at my new apartment.”

There was a brief pause between them, and Dick didn’t even have to ask the sorceress who she was talking about. He folded his arms over his chest as he eyed her with his blue eyes making sure she wasn’t injured.

Raven, sensing his unease, shook her head at him. “He didn’t hurt me. He… told me to give you a warning,” she said, leaving out the part where he did more than just give her a warning. She sighed when he had lifted a brow at her. “He will use his men against us with full force. Dick—“

“No, Raven. We will use full force as well. This will work. We will get him back after today. Can you trust me?” he didn’t wait for her answer and instead walked away from the operations room, leaving her to her own thoughts and emotions.

“I’m don’t know, Dick. I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

[sevfanfic]

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 17: You’re Mine

Warnings: NSFW, Smut 

Word count: 2,512

You’re awoken by wandering hands roaming your body. The feeling of the hands squeezing at the sensitive skin between your thighs made you giggle and turn to the man lying next to you. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered and adjusted to the arms that were now wrapped around you. 

“Nothing,” he sighed and pulled you close. His lips connected with yours for a deep kiss, you opened for his tongue. A small whine escaped from your mouth when he pulled away. He cocked his head curiously. 

“Hmm,” Severus hummed. His lips curved mischievously, dark eyes glossing over with a sudden rush of lust. His hands began to feel up the length of your back making your skin tingle. He gripped the back of your neck and the beat of your heart accelerated. The look in his eyes sent a shock to the warmth between your legs. After another kiss, he made a quick movement and was now hovering above you with his hands on either side of your head. 

“Severus,” you sighed when moved his mouth to your neck. At first, he kissed the skin softly but soon started to scrape his teeth and lick at the reddened spots he left. You tilted your head to give him more room, your hands clutched at his biceps. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured against you then moved his assault to the other side of your neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” his breath was hot against your skin as he spoke. All night long he dwelled on the idea of you swollen with his child. At first, he felt mostly apprehension but then a possessiveness overtook him. He began to give in to the selfish feelings he felt over you. He began to realize just how much he wanted you, all of you. Wanted this, wanted the child growing within you because he never thought he’d have a family of his own. The pull he felt in his heart for you intensified as he watched over you. 

The soft moans that came from you encouraged him to continue. His hand moved to reach under your shirt and knead at your breast. Your breath caught in your chest at the sensation and when he pinched your hard nipple you arched up into his hand. 

“You’re mine.” His voice came out as a low growl. The sheer primal tone sent a bolt of arousal to your heat. You rocked your hips up against Severus’ growing erection and he groaned at the friction. 

“I’m yours, all yours.” Your desperate whines filled the room. Severus then slowly slid his hand down to your waist. He moved down so that he could plant kisses along your stomach and squeezed at you. He kissed above the hem of your panties. 

“Mine,” this came out as a whisper from the man. You laid still and watched him as he slowly moved lower, hovering close to your now wet opening. He kissed at your clothed folds and then quickly moved to suck and bite at your inner thighs. At one point he found a particularly sensitive spot and you flinched bringing your fingers to grasp at his hair. You gasped when he yanked off your panties and pulled you closer. 

“This gorgeous pussy is mine too,” he nibbled at you again then murmured, “look at you, all wet for me.” 

“Severus, please.” You groaned impatiently. Then without hesitation, he took your pulsing clit in his mouth and you gasped loudly. He began to roll your sensitive bundle between his lips and press his tongue against you. A broken moan left you and you raked your fingers through his hair pulling him closer to you. He hummed against you in appreciation of the touches from you. He lapped and sucked at your folds making you writhe beneath him. A large hand was placed over your stomach to keep you still and the other teased at the entrance of your quivering entrance. With a low groan, he watched his finger disappear inside of you. The feeling of your soaked walls fluttering against him forced curses from his lips. You bucked your hips up against him when he began pumping you opened your mouth in exclamation. 

“Oh,” you grinned at the sudden pressure inside you, “a-another, another one please.” You whimpered, begging for him to fill you more. He complied, pushing another into you and curving them against the bundle of nerves inside you. A shudder ripped through you. The explosion of color behind your eyes and in your head was pure ecstasy. The feeling of his warm mouth and tongue against you sucking at your juices brought you to the edge. The sinful sounds that filled the room made your skin tingle and your muscles contract around his large fingers making him hum with encouragement. 

“Yes, yes. Severus, please don’t stop.” Your small pants and whines quickened as you balanced at the edge. He shook his head to give you more friction. The pressure that built up in the base of your spine burst, sending you over the edge you had been teetering over so deliciously, “mmmm I - I’m coming oh fucking hell.” Your fingers pulled at his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. 

Severus continued pumping and curving his fingers inside of you helping you ride out your orgasm and with his other hand he reached down to his now throbbing erection. Pumping himself a few times he growled into your gushing pussy lapping eagerly. You jerked against his mouth as you became sensitive to the overstimulation and watched as he tore at his own clothes, still using his tongue on you. When he finally moved his mouth from you to take off his shirt he kept his eyes locked on yours. His fingers left you slowly and you whined at the loss. The fingers that were deep inside you were now lathering his cock in your juices. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered and climbed up to kiss at your collar bone, “and I will never,” he kissed your neck, “ever,” he kissed your cheek, “leave you.” He ended my pressing lips yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth and tongue. You felt him press his hips against you and his cock sliding against your swollen clit. 

“Severus,” you spoke breathlessly between hungry kisses, “I love you.” The words left your lips before you could think about what you were saying. Was it you that spoke those words? They seemed to linger like the smell of rain, stuck to your skin like honey, and you made him ravenous for them. 

“I love you too.” He spoke close to you hoping that you’d absorb them into you like he felt he had with you. Swallow every bit of him and know that he was yours just as you were his. You kissed him greedily and when you reached between you he groaned looking down to watch you rub his head against your entrance. After a moment you let him push into you, stretching your already sensitive walls. You moaned and fluttered your eyelids closed as his hips adjusted. He filled you painfully but when he impatiently began to grind himself against you the pain melted away into pure bliss. 

“Ngh and I love this tight pussy.” He groaned into your neck and the words gave you a sudden rush of pleasure and you fluttered around him making him gasp. 

“M-move,” you commanded, “please.” Suddenly the grinding turned into slow hard thrusts. He pushed against you and forced himself deeper pounding against your cervix. You exclaimed at the intense fire that engulfed you and spread to all your nerves. The sound of his skin smacking against yours and the feeling of your wetness that now dripped down the bottom of your ass were the only things you could think about. Severus kept his face buried in your neck and brought a hand to your sweat coated forehead to move a lock of hair and comb it behind your ear. You held him close against you digging your nails into the skin of his lower back. 

“Oh, yes. More, g-give me more. P-please.” You slid your hands lower and squeezed at the flesh of his ass encouraging him. His mouth opened against the skin of your shoulder as he used his arms to lift your legs more so the angle forced his cock to ram against your g-spot. You practically squealed at the immediate explosion of ecstasy. His hand gripped at your hips leaving his mark on you. 

“Fuck,” Severus growled and thrust into you faster. He felt the pulsing of your walls around him. The soft heat of you against him was pure heaven. He relished in the feelings you gave him and wanted to love you like this forever. 

When his hands left your waist he pulled himself out of you and quickly turned your shocked body over onto your stomach and lifted your hips to bring your ass to him. You spread your knees to support yourself and waited eagerly giving him a show by wiggling your hips a little. His hand spread over your cheeks spreading them to view your soaked and quivering cunt. A low rumble in his chest erupted before he buried himself deep into you in one quick thrust. He planted his hands on your hips again and squeezed you mercilessly as he began to move in and out of you. 

You closed your eyes and pressed your face into the cool satin sheets. The feeling of his cock pounding against your sensitive walls from this angle was overwhelming. He pulled against you to meet his thrusts and when his rhythm faltered you knew he was close. A hand left your hip and moved to rub erratic circles over your clit. You moaned his name and clawed at the sheets beneath you as you approached the edge of another climax. He leaned close, melting his body into yours, and planted soft kisses against your shoulders and back. 

“Cum for me,” the warmth of his breathed words against your skin coiled a shiver down your spine, “cum for me, love.” Tears welled in your eyes as the overpowering orgasm ripped through you causing your muscles to clench and you tensed around the cock ramming into you. 

“Severus, oh my… s-shit I -” words stopped coming to you fell from the edge again, and trembled through an intense orgasm. You felt Severus’ pace falter again and he desperately ground his hips into you and continued attacking your clit. 

“That’s it, f-fuck.” He trembled and you felt him buckle as he spilled himself into you. He growled your name as he fell from his own edge. The feeling of his warm cum inside you made you sigh as you came down from the intoxicating high. The man above you laid his cheek against the skin of your back and then you felt his body slump over you. Your body relaxed under him and you grunted at the sudden weight on you. 

“You’re heavy.” You grumbled after a moment. With a groan, Severus shifted to lay with your back pressed against him not bothering to pull himself out of you. He held you close and kissed at the nape of your neck. One arm wrapped around under your breasts and the other holding possessively at your belly moving his thumb lazy back and forth.  You both began to slow your breathing and sleepily cuddled into each other. You didn’t speak and nor did you need him to. Your hands rested over his lovingly and you felt yourself drifting back to sleep in his arms.

-

The cold air slashed against the skin of your cheeks. You walked outside in the ankle-deep snow listening to the crunch of the icy layers under you. Severus had been busying himself with paperwork and stocking his supplies so you had to find something else to do. A walk outside was more appealing than working on your own paperwork. You watched as a small flurry of snow fell from the trees surrounding you. It was bright out and you squinted at the reflection of the sun off your white surroundings. When you opened them a dark figure floated a few feet before you. You jerked away suddenly and fell on your back as surprise rang through you. 

“What the fuck.” You gasped and watched the ghoulish thing approach you. Scrambling back you hurried to find your wand and pointed it outward at the black silhouette with its arms outstretched and spidery fingers grabbing at the cold air. The jagged opening at the head opened like a mouth and a raspy gasp made your heart skip a beat. You knew what you were looking at but as you trembled you hoped it wasn’t real. A dementor on the school grounds was absurd. You had never seen one in person but you knew all about them. 

“O-okay,” your voice cracked, “okay, uhm.” You raked your brain for all of the information you had read in order to figure out what you were supposed to do at this moment. A Patronus charm. But you had never conjured one before. You began to mumble to yourself as the figure drew closer and the dreadful sound got louder. What was it? What was that spell? 

“Expecto p-patronum.” Your voice cracked again with fear. Come on. “Expecto patronum.” A faint blue light emanated from your wand for a moment before fizzling out. “Expecto. Patronum.” You spoke more confidently trying to blow away the fear and the blue light erupted from your wand. It blinded you for a moment and then you watched as a (Your Patronus) burst forward pushing the dementor away from you. A moment of relief washed over you as the blue light pulsed for a moment. You watched the dementor seize and disappear into the trees. 

As the light faded so did your vision. A warm drop of blood fell from your nose and your surroundings began to spin then there was nothing. 

-

Muddied boots stomped down the marble hall. When the door opened Irma looked up to see her associate that had been assigned to the Hogwarts case. She raised a brow at the sudden intrusion and signaled for the man to speak. 

“It worked. She took the bait, she conjured a Patronus.”

“Hm. So she’s more powerful than we initially thought.” Irma looked back at her work.

“There’s something else.” the man paused. Irma waited and when she didn't hear him speak he eye flicked up again. 

“Spit it out.”

“She’s pregnant.” The man spoke matter-of-factly and held his hands behind his back. The white-haired woman sitting behind her desk cocked her head. She set down her paperwork and pursed her lips. 

“Well,” she laced her fingers together, “that is an. Interesting. Development.”

“It’s his.” 

“What?” Irma flinched at the shock of the new information. She had to consider the many implications that this pregnancy may have. She sifted through the many intruding thoughts and waved the man off.

TAGS: @ayamenimthiriel @marvelschriss @debiraquel @mitsuhkai @the-not-so-iconic @darkthought15 @rubym13 @4everflowercore @otherxstories @thottywithoutthebody @setsuna-meiou31 @krazykatkay456

[secret-engima]

This. Has been a perfectly terrible day. Can I beg you for a ficbit or a snippet from one of your works, like Team Gremlin or Noctscar or something ? I just - they’re beautiful, and I just really, really need something beautiful right now.

SURE. I don’t have much in the way of snippets, but lemme see what I can find. I might have to throw in something from BNHA cause that’s the fandom the muses are chewing on this exact second.

...

Team Gremlin:

     It had been … a very bad few weeks for Qrow all told. And that was saying something. Everything had seemed fine one day, business as usual. Tai was back from his requisite number of missions to keep his license and teaching at Signal again —which he genuinely seemed to enjoy for some reason—, his nieces were as adorable as ever, and Summer was sometimes talking his ear off about maybe taking a teaching position somewhere herself after running a few missions to keep her own license active —she’d been busier lately with the girls than running around kicking butt, but it wasn’t like Qrow blamed her for that—.

     Then Leo was found dead in his office. Knifed in the neck, one round discharged from his weapon in the direction of the guest couch, blood pooling all over the chair and low table where the investigators said he’d been dragged from and laid on the floor in some kind of pose. No one unusual had been seen going in or out, there had been nothing on the office cameras —covered by a Semblance of some kind, it was decided, because of the fading, glass-like Aura shards on the floor—. The only warning had been the sound of Leo’s single shot before he died. Qrow had arrived as soon as he could to help investigate, since the primary suspect would … not be one the police even knew to look for. He had helped Dyna —poor woman had been wire tense with rage rather than her usual calm self, and it was no wonder—, search for clues the police would miss, then searched the secret tunnels for good measure.

     They had found a Grimm inside one of the deeper antechambers, far too deep to have gotten there by accident, a strange, jellyfish like beast that had been surprisingly hard to kill for something that small. They’d never seen it’s like before, and the thought of it being under the school, where kids were, where Oz and his inner circle were supposed to hold sway-. He’d never seen the otter Faunus more furious as they stood amid the fading Dark dust, her lips twisted, brow wrinkled in a way that had made the black line and red dots of her old bandit tattoos look more pronounced.

     They’d found no other signs that Salem knew how to get into the school tunnels, but they rechecked them all and trapped several of the ones leading outward as temporary security measures. With Dyna in place as the new —temporary on paper but soon to be permanent— Headmaster, Qrow had gathered up what evidence they could pry loose from their police contacts and gone back to Oz so they could try to sort this out.

     Of course, Qrow’s first impulse was to blame Salem, but Oz had listened to the report of a jellyfish Grimm under the school and his expression had folded into something pained. Knowing. He must have known what kind of Grimm it was, but hadn’t elaborated yet, just told Dyna to investigate all of Leo’s documents, Scroll calls, and communications over the past year, and insisted he would not explain until there was either evidence or not for his theory, for fear of making them biased.

     So, with Salem seemingly not the automatic culprit, they had started hunting for info. Summer had offered to come back and help, but Oz had told her to stay on her chosen mission instead.

     The pen had been an unexpected complication.

...

Always I Dreamed verse

     Summer ducked past her into the shower as Raven left it, pausing to stare at Raven’s tattoos for only a moment before chirping a quiet good morning and asking if she was okay after yesterday. Raven just grunted, because she was combat functional and frankly that was all that mattered. She had already pulled on her clothes from yesterday —all their possessions were in her inventory and she didn’t want questions on where it came from, she’d have to stuff it all in a duffel bag and hide it in the den to explain that away later— by the time Taiyang got up and Raven remembered the uniforms. Raven nudged open the bag while Qrow ducked out of their den and peered over her shoulder, “Everybody has to wear that stuff?” Qrow sneered as Raven pulled out the first button down shirt, “Hardly looks sturdy.”

     “It’s just for the school grounds I think, we have our combat gear for training missions and stuff anyway.” Taiyang said as he pulled out a shirt of his own from a different bag. Raven took a moment to glance at his bare torso. He slept in pants but not a shirt apparently, which was stupid, but better than being entirely naked at night. He had a decent build, which she knew from watching him fight yesterday, and a truly appalling lack of scars. Her life had been saved by somebody who had probably never had a truly decent fight in his life before that day. Wonderful.

     He also had tattoos, and Raven squinted at them for a moment because despite the differing size and placement, they all looked very much like the ones Raven and Qrow had gotten during a rare moment of total drunkenness at fifteen. He was missing the large asian dragon outline that wound up Raven’s own torso, but he had the blue crow perched as if about to take flight that Raven had, the running blue wolf who’s lower half dissolved into petals, and she thought she glimpsed a blue clockwork rabbit under his right arm. When he turned around briefly to put his back to them, she saw that most of his back had been taken up with the stylized outline of a raven in flight.

     She shook her head and looked away. Whatever. Summer possessed a tattoo on her arm similar to the asian dragon winding up Qrow’s arm from elbow to shoulder. Some tattoos were just popular, and blue ink was easier to come by for fill-in tattoos than the black used for outlines.

     Qrow must have remembered Taiyang’s words last night about Raven’s uniform being at the top, because he was already rooting down to the outfit right beneath hers —there was more fabric in the bag than that, but Raven wasn’t going to worry about why just yet—. He yanked out a shirt and jacket that looked his size, then blinked when something short and plaid tumbled out with it. Snatching it up, he unfolded it and made a face, “Is this a skirt? With my uniform?”

     Summer poked her head out of the bathroom, a wash of steam following her —oh right, hot water showers were a thing, darn— while Taiyang looked from Qrow to the skirt and back. Qrow was busy staring at the skirt, so he missed the expression of pure glee that flickered over the other teen’s face before he casually said, “What, that? It’s a kilt, man. Old Vale tradition.” Raven blinked very slowly, because that was a surprisingly good lie even though she knew it was nonsense —her memory on early canon was fuzzy, but she would have remembered the male characters running around in skirts—. She debated calling him on it for a moment, but she was from outside the kingdoms like Qrow, so technically she had no way to know that Taiyang was lying.

     Besides, if Taiyang wanted to poke the bear that was her brother’s temper, better he do it now and get it over with than later when they were training.

     Qrow was still making annoyed noises under his breath as he examined the “kilt”, and a glance at Summer slipping out of the shower in a towel showed she was fighting down laughter. Silver eyes met Raven’s with hopeful amusement and Raven looked away. She was still angry that the Story had forced itself into place in her life. With a shake of her head, Raven finished yanking out her uniform —one of? There was so much fabric in there, did the school really waste money making multiple outfits for each student?— and started pulling off her old clothes to put it on. Taiyang made a noise like someone had knifed him just as she dropped her shirt to the floor and she looked up in alarm. Taiyang had whipped around to put his back to her, and she could see the flush of color crawling up his neck and the backs of his ears. He didn’t look hurt or anything, but when Summer wandered in and dropped her towel onto her bed to put on her uniform —huh, she had the same tattoos as Raven, Qrow, and Taiyang, just with the perched crow as a large outline that went down to her mid back and a large blue raven in flight over her abdomen that looked like the smaller one on Qrow’s back—, Taiyang made the dying noise again, snatched up his bag of clothes, and rushed for the bathroom.

     Raven had the feeling she should understand what that was about, but she didn’t get it, and when she risked a glance at Summer, the other girl actually looked just as baffled. So maybe it wasn’t some social thing she’d forgotten. Maybe it was just a thing with him specifically.

...

Feather-Light and Fire-Bright verse (BNHA)

     Which was why, the next time she spotted a little red feather slinking over to place a trio of shiny buttons on the park bench she liked best, she hastily caught it with one hand. It was very soft, wiggling slightly in her grip, twitching and fluttering almost like a frightened living thing, so much so she shushed it gently on instinct, “It’s okay, I won’t damage you.” Taking out the note she’d spent days agonizing over, she skewered it to the quill of the feather, “I need you to take a message to whoever controls you.” She let it go and the feather wiggled erratically in the air, like a cat trying to wiggle free of an unfamiliar collar before flitting away. Fuyumi resisted the urge to chase it and see where it led. She’d sent her note, now she would wait for a reaction.

     She absently took the three coat buttons and put them in her pocket before going home. It would be stupid to leave them as litter in the park, but it also felt like a bad idea to throw them away and possibly anger whoever was watching her. Besides, she had a collection going now, she almost had enough matching buttons to make a full set for a long coat.

     A week went by with no sign of her shadow before she finally spotted a red feather again. It lurked on the edges of the park, flitting out into view as she walked by before slipping off in the direction of a more sequestered part of the park. Fuyumi hesitated, saw the feather come back and swirl around her a few times like an excited puppy before rushing off again and decided she was either about to meet someone shy or about to be kidnapped and potentially murdered. Slipping her hand into her handbag to grip the small pro-grade taser inside just in case, Fuyumi followed the feather into the copse of trees that shielded that part of the park from the street and the rest of the grassy area.

     The feather slipped away to rejoin … a lot of other feathers, and Fuyumi paused on the edges of the little forested nook to get a good look at her mysterious shadow for the first time. Golden eyes, piercing and almost predatory in intensity, flitted up to meet her gaze as he stood up. He was about her age she would guess, maybe a year older, so lean that if she hadn’t been able to see the muscles of his bare arms she would have called him scrawny. He was wearing a sleeveless hoodie that looked like it had lost a few too many rounds with a washing machine, clean but all faded and stretched and worn looking. His hair was all tousled and pale gold, and the red feathers were clustered on his back in huge wings that looked like they belonged on someone about twice his size and weight. He smiled a little, a practiced thing that was too nervous to be real, but if Fuyumi hadn’t lived her entire life around Pro Heroes and the children of other such elites, she would never had known.

     He held up her note between too fingers, not commenting on the wary distance still between them nor making any moves to close it, “Um, I’m not a stalker, just wanna get that out of the way. Sorry if I … came off that way? I’m, uh, not good at introducing myself and I didn’t … really know what else to do.”

[myobsessionraven]

Right where you left me

Arcade (chapter 7)

An: i usually avoid writing these but its my BIRTHDAY today so hehe.

*these are Beastboy's thoughts and the 'him' is a reference to Damian*

Narrator's P.O.V (Point Of View)

He laid on the green comforter baffled as all of his thoughts jogged around his memories; the joy and the grief, all of it. The times he found happiness in the least all because he grew from the worst; the bliss of waking up to the happy chattering, pointless question of his friends and blazing alarms. The times he remained content.

Today was not one of those days; not one of the days he found a way to avoid, to distract himself from the memories he kept reminiscing on, kept going back to even after all the rejection. The times where his mind wandered off to the same question

'If it was supposed to be their fairy tail then why did she let him in ?' He always gave himself the same answer yet it never nourished his broken heart, bloomed his wilted thoughts. He needed to realise that two made a whole, filling up a half with daydreams of desire could never achieve a pair of one.

It was so hard on his mind and his body, his heart and his soul trying to realise she has someone in her heart who isn't him and possibly never was.

He hated this feeling of envy to someone he didn't know; he needed to take accountability of his thoughts and control his toxicity towards a person he never took a chance to meet. He kept looking back on the past finding solace in times when he was the only prince in her life even when he knew that time was a delusion he created.

5 years ago...

He looked at his four acquaintance as excitement rattled through his body and flowed through his veins. It was hard to believe someone had accepted him after all the torture and the pain he had to endure in his life. He had found himself a fraternity. It was all finally coming to a fresh beginning, a new page.

A new chapter was unfolding in front of his eyes in a book filled with angst. It  seemed to him as if all the grief had led to this very moment-led to this tower with two cool dudes and two beautiful ladies. It never helped that both the woman of the house were nose bleedingly gorgeous and breathtakingly perfect, it very well might have been his hormones speaking up for him but he didn't care he was happy to be there, happy to be there with them- all of them.

He found each acquaintance of the house unique and attractive in specific ways yet one was more intriguing than the rest; more mysterious, a puzzle he couldn't put together supported by her eccentric behaviour. Her name was Raven. He was indecisive about his opinions towards her at first, he had days he wished to crack her up along with her fickle behaviour towards people there were  days where he wanted to give up and accept defeat let triumph shove a tongue in his face as he sulked in a disaster of his thoughts.

Yet he continued on, let that special something draw him towards her, tie their souls together with an invisible thread thereby he continued his observation and obsession with her.

Told her jokes took any chance he had to spend time with her until they became friends with misunderstandings ever so often trying to break their iron grip but it never mattered when he knew they would always find the sunlight behind those grey clouds; it never mattered when he knew they would find it together.

4 years ago...

It was intimate the small gestures he made towards her or anyone yet it never felt that way. Not to him. It was always natural with his behaviour of expressing his feelings through his hugs and touch rather than words.

Like the lingering moment beneath their wandering gaze towards the gleaming stars tinkling in the dark night. They were setttled in a comforting silence- a rare occasion with his mouth that never seemed to shut up. Yet none of them had to speak anything both dazzled by the beauty of the stars that lit up the black sky.

Living in the tall tower isolated from the town had its perks and one of them had to be the view; the experience of sunrise in the dawn, sunset and the stars in the night sky.

He let his brain drift in a thoughtless wreck just lying on the concrete beneath him with his forearm as pillow.

He suddenly felt a feather light weight ponder down on his shoulder he looked up a bit crooked from his state towards the long map of the roof only to be met with tufts of lavender hair lying on his shoulder as the owner swept away in a peaceful slumber.

He let a smile grace his lips as he continued to enjoy the view until Raven wasn't the only one sleeping peacefully on the top of the roof.

3 years ago...

He laid on the bed, white sheets spread through it's surface as grimacingly intoxicating scent of medicine hit his nose like a donation to his million dollar headache. He tried to find some comfort in the the growing pain only to be met with a harsh tug of a hand.

"Ouch rae that hurt" he complained

"Not my fault you stole robin's bike once again and drove it so recklessly around the town" he wasn't expecting a reply yet her witty remark was no surprise to him too.

"I thought your doctors magic was supposed to heal my head completely" he whined out his voice showcasing the true depth of his pain.

Like most of his painful quarrels this was again unheard by her tone deaf ears as she occupied herself with his head and let her eyes reply to the remark shooting a harsh glare his way before she spoke her feelings out in words too.

"I can't completely heal you Beastboy you know that, now stop whining like a child we both wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for you not wearing a helmet"

"I couldn't have rae it would ruin my handsome looks- he added a dramatic sigh for good measures before starting from where he left off-besides no one like helmets if they did they would be called heaven-mates " he cracked up on his own joke for a second forgetting about the world as tiny droplets of tears fell from his eyes his mouth cracking up with his echoing laughter.

"_"

"_"

" the self control I have over my hand right now to not hit you over the head is just as strong as the displeasure of every girl after seeing you "

"Hey I'm handsome and you know it" eyebrows wiggle

"Never mind I'm hitting you on the head"

2 years ago...

He thought she was cute. It didn't help that he had started possessing a minuscule crush on her over the course of the years he spent with her. He adored everything she did, he noticed her presence before herself. He found her stunning even after a fight with the green gooey monster that haunted their town. He adored it all the arguments and the moments, the hugs and the swats it was always a bonus of being with her; a combination of the evil and the pure, a combination of the yin and the yang.

Though none of these things altogether could build up to the one thing, that one action,the one feeling his body adopted when she blushed. Yes it was raven's blush that he reckoned the most spectacular. He'd only seen her blush one time in the 3 years they spent together, it didn't help the blush that adored her puffy cheeks was not reciprocation to one of his corny pickup lines but this time he hoped to make the above statement true.

"Hey rae"

No reply

He would continue anyways he was used to her methods of disrupting his profound confidence.

"I was blinded by your beauty,

I will need your number and name for insurance purposes" he said a cheesy grid that settled on his face but it fell as quickly as it stood as his met her obviously annoyed expression with the compliment of an eye roll. Well he could always give it another shot he decided.

"Don't get scared if a fat guy with a white beard kidnaps you tonight,

I told Santa what I wanted"

"That was an original" was her sarcastic remark

Hey what if he stole it from a guy on tik tok it was the feelings and effort that mattered... right? He heard the red alarm blaze once again signifying their call of duty. It was alright he would bring himself enrapture in the fact she responded... for now.

1 year ago...

They were fighting again all because of him. A stranger who managed to ruin their-his life to it's full extent or at least that's what he wished to believe, that's what gave him a break from those dreadful nights, that's what made him consume the food without having the urge to pile it out above all that's what made him stop blaming himself. He knew it was never late enough to step back and let the harsh realisation hit him; slap him with all its worth. But with at what cost? It would be hard upon him, it would crack him up and he was not ready for that. Yet he knew all along in his mind that he could live without her love but never without her. So he'll just protect her from afar hope for the best anything to prevent him from losing her, anything to see her presence each day leave this argument behind them stay up at nights to make sure she was safe that's all after all he could do with breaking her happiness.

——————————————————

[justafewsmallsteps]

Okay, with the new series announcement, I’ve finally been inspired to finish off this artwork and story that I’ve been sitting on for years. Call it a goodbye to my headcanon kids because now we have the real deal!!! 

Title: The Golden Girl 

Word Count:

3576

Rating

: G+

Let it be known that Mizuki adored her father. Anyone could tell by the way she followed him around and tried to copy his actions. 

She had his temperament and lack of patience, but in a cuter way (for now). Her big, shiny, golden eyes were just like his, and the black ears atop her head swiveled around just as his did. She loved it. She loved being just like him in every way she could; going around picking up big sticks to swing like her own Tessaiga. 

She looked up to him so much, it made Inuyasha’s heart ache. It did come with some new, dangerous territory though. For instance, he had one hell of a time trying to watch his vocabulary once Mizuki started speaking. He’d never forget the dagger of a glare that Kagome sent his way when their daughter babbled her first, “Damet” after dropping her snack. He thought he would be skinned on the spot. 

“She’s going to copy anything you do, so you have to be more careful!” Kagome chastised. 

“Why me?” Inuyasha asked in a grumbled whine. “She should be looking up to you! You’re her mother, ain’t ya?” 

Kagome frowned. “Mizuki thinks the world of you.” Her expression softened. “That’s what daughters do when they love their dad.” 

A pang of guilt seized his chest. In flashes he remembered another time and place, photographs and a stick of incense at the shrine tucked away in a private room; a young man with Kagome’s eyes. It was something that she didn’t talk about often, but her father’s loss still shook her sometimes. He took in Kagome’s glassy eyes and the pink flooding her nose. He reached around to hold his wife in his arms. “Okay,” Inuyasha mumbled as he kissed the top of her head. “You win. I’ll watch out.” 

So he proceeded with caution, tried to hold his tongue from cursing, and he did his damn best to be more patient than he’d ever thought possible. All for their family, for his wife, for his daughter. 

He never thought of himself as a role model. 

He used to think he was a freak.

But then Kagome came around, and then he had friends. He found a place in the world that accepted him as he was, and he held onto her with a fierce protectiveness. He even let her go once and was forced to find peace within loneliness. He did it for her, because even if he never saw her again, he’d love her. He’d live for her even without her there. 

But then by some miracle Kagome came back. The world was right. He belonged, they got married, and they were a family all on their own.  He didn’t think life could get better honestly. Then they had their first kid. When Mizuki was born, Inuyasha was sure that he’d never seen anything more precious in his life. He loved the dark ears atop her raven-haired head, and he nearly melted the first time she opened her honey-colored eyes. She was an existence made up of his and Kagome’s love. 

He wished she didn’t take so much after him though. She was just shy of passing for normal… 

“So beautiful,” Kagome had whispered, instantly washing away his fears and doubts. “Just like her dad.” 

Beautiful, huh? He hoped that someone would love his daughter like Kagome loved him. He also hoped that day was very far away, he thought warily. For now, he would make sure that his kid felt good about herself. He would never let Mizuki think of herself as a monster or a weirdo. He’d do his damnedest to build her confidence and surround her with love. 

And it worked out pretty well. Maybe too well if her ego was anything like his own. 

Mizuki really did love everything she had in common with her father. When they both heard a sound and turned the same way, she’d puff up with pride. “Mizuki hears it too!” she’d exclaim gleefully, making a point to wiggle her ears. 

It always made him grin. 

He never thought there could be a downside to her adoration. She loved him, she loved herself; everything was good. 

Then Shouya was born. 

Shouya, his son, who did not have his ears or his eyes. He actually looked a lot like Kagome, Inuyasha thought fondly. He had his mother’s nose, her human ears, even her adorable puffy cheeks. The one thing that made Shouya anything like Inuyasha was his distinctly silver colored hair. Yet somehow, despite being almost the opposite of his daughter, he was equally as perfect. Inuyasha had thought it was impossible to love anyone more than Kagome, and then Mizuki, and yet somehow his capacity for love simply grew as soon as he witnessed his son. 

And when Mizuki, at just five years old, laid her pretty, amber eyes on her brother... she burst into tears! Kagome was still bedridden and recovering, so Inuyasha flew into action. He tried to calm her down but she was inconsolable, and her crying triggered Shouya to follow. 

With two wailing children, Inuyasha and Kagome were immediately set to high stress mode. It was not the cute first meeting between new siblings that they had anticipated, dreamt about, planned for when Kagome was still waddling around as she told Mizuki all about being a big sister. 

Instead she cried. A lot. Loudly. 

Inuyasha had to pick up his distraught daughter and take her outside. 

“Kiddo, what’s wrong?” He asked, shifting her a little in his arms. 

Mizuki rubbed at the tears on her face and clutched to her father’s shoulders. Unable to form words past her sobs, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and tugged, but Inuyasha didn’t pay any attention to the pain. Instead he did his best to soothe her, patting her back until she was reduced to hiccups. That night she cried and sniffled herself to sleep, leaving two very anxious parents. Thankfully Shouya slept soundly. 

It took a week of grouchiness and tantrums before anything productive happened. Inuyasha whined to his recovering wife about his daughter’s poor attitude and lack of communication. Kagome simply laughed at him. “Now you know what it’s like dealing with you.” 

Indignant, he scowled, “She’s a child!” 

“At least she has an excuse,” Kagome retorted cutely. 

Inuyasha would’ve been more upset, but having her humor back was a relief to him. She’d been exhausted and bedrested for the end of her pregnancy. Kaede had assured him that she’d be fine, but it still made him anxious to see her so putout. Shouya came out a fat, healthy baby, but even then Kagome didn’t get much time to relax. The newborn was up at odd hours and constantly hungry. It was the least Inuyasha could do to try taking care of Mizuki, though he hadn’t anticipated her moodiness. 

Whenever they were out of the house and away, she seemed to relax, but otherwise his girl was totally uncooperative. Miroku and Sango figured that she didn’t like sharing the attention. It was something they dealt with in the early days with their own twin girls. They shrugged and gave him their sympathy, but otherwise couldn’t offer much advice except for him to be patient and try to talk to her. 

The problem was Mizuki didn’t want to talk. As soon as he mentioned her brother she’d have a fit. Admittedly, he joked dryly to himself, he felt the same way about his own brother for a long time. The feeling had been mutual, probably. 

But Sesshoumaru was an asshole, and Shouya was barely eight days-old. 

Inuyasha sniffed the air as the wind passed them by. Kagome was waiting for them. “Kiddo, the sun’s getting low. We gotta go home to Mama.” 

Mizuki didn’t look up from her spot on the ground making leaf huts. “I don’t want to.” 

“There’s dinner at home.” 

“I’m okay.” 

He wondered how to persuade her. “Papa’s getting real hungry though. I might fall over if I don’t eat!” 

“Papa can fish,” she replied with no mercy. 

“So we’ll never go home again? I’ll never see Mama again?” 

She seemed to consider that. “Mama can visit us, but leave the baby.” 

Inuyasha folded his arms. “That’s your brother, ‘Zuki.” 

“I don't care. I don’t like him.” 

“So you won’t go home unless we get rid of your brother?” 

“Maybe Mama can put him back in her tummy.” 

He snorted. “That’s probably going to hurt your mother.”

“Then give him away to someone who wants a new baby. Far away.” She seemed set, and if Inuyasha knew anything about his daughter, it was that her stubbornness rivaled her parents’. Yikes. At least that was only half his fault. 

He figured lying would get him farther than arguing for now. It’d get him home at least. “Okay. We’ll tell Mama to leave the baby because you don’t like him. Then you’ll let us go home and eat? I can smell the food. Smells good. Can you smell it, little one?” 

Mizuki wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air. 

“I smell it too, like Papa! It does smell good!” she agreed with enthusiasm, but Inuyasha smirked. She had to be lying. They were far away enough that Inuyasha knew she’d have trouble picking out the scent, but she was always trying so hard to keep up with him. He decided to humor her. 

“You smell the stew?” 

“Yes!” 

“Wow, I’m so impressed. Let’s go get some. I’m starving!” He knelt down and opened his arms wide for her. When she barreled into his arms he was reminded of his great, unending love for her. He spun her around and squeezed her squirmy body as she giggled, then dipped her over to attack her face with kisses. 

“Papa, let’s go!” 

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.” He shot off with his usual pace when carrying his daughter. She liked to feel the bounce of his steps, laughing her way as they went up then down. It was slower than his run, but way more fun. He figured he should put her in the best mood possible when they broke the news that they were going to have to keep her brother around. 

“We’re home,” Inuyasha announced as they entered. 

Kagome was standing near the futon, rocking the baby in her arms gently. 

“Good timing. Shouya just had dinner and just fell asleep.” 

“I’m envious. Sounds like a good life,” he joked. 

Mizuki tugged on his arm. “Papa.” 

Right. 

“So Kagome, I have some bad news.” When she looked at him confused, he made sure to emote that everything was fine. He liked how easily they communicated. 

“Oh yeah?” she goaded. 

“Yup. Looks like we’ll have to get rid of the new baby.” 

“Oh no! That’s so sad. Why’s that?” 

Mizuki squirmed around and pulled her father’s face down. “Papa!” she whispered with urgency. 

He held up a finger, motioning for Kagome to hang on. She gave him a smile to show her amusement. He missed her face today. He hasn’t seen enough of her while he was out distracting their daughter. Speaking of which… 

“What’s up, kiddo?” 

She cupped her small hands around her mouth to relay her secret message. “Tell Mama you don’t want the baby! Don’t tell her I don’t want him.” 

“Mizuki, I’m not going to lie to Mama. You’re the one who wants him gone, so you should tell her,” he whispered back. He lifted his head back to Kagome, assuming she must have at least heard some of their conversation. “Mama, Mizuki has something to tell you,” Inuyasha proclaimed, full-well knowing he was throwing her under the bus. Poor thing. 

The girl seemed to go red in his arms, suddenly panicked as she faced the most intimidating figure in her (and his) life: her mother. 

“Is that so? What do you need to tell me, Mizuki?” 

“I--” She sputtered and her eyes began to water and she looked up at her father, silently pleading for him to take over. He shook his head. Of course he felt bad, but she wasn’t being very cooperative when he asked. Kagome was their best bet at getting some answers. If she could get him to open up, she’d manage a five year-old. 

“You?” she leaded. 

“I want the baby to go away!” she admitted quickly. Her mouth turned itself into a defiant pout, as if she was putting on a brave face. 

Kagome paid it no mind. “You do? Why?” 

She hesitated for a second before supplying, “I don’t like him!” 

“Okay, but why?” 

Mizuki whined; a true, genuine whine that sounded like a puppy. 

Inuyasha would’ve broken, but Kagome seemed unfazed. How could she? Did she have no heart? It amazed him. 

“Do you not like him because he’s a boy?” 

“No.” 

“You don’t like how he smells?” 

“No…” 

“Are you jealous?” 

Bingo. 

Mizuki ruffled and got even redder in the face. Inuyasha gave his daughter a reassuring pat. They already figured that was the problem, but it was a new feeling for her to navigate. 

“Mizuki, are you jealous that Mama spends so much time with Shouya?” Kagome asked softly. 

“No!” she yelped back.  

“Don’t yell at your mother,” Inuyasha chastised. 

She shrunk down, her ears flattening. It must have felt like they were ganging up on her, but the time had come for her unexplained tantrums to end. With pent up frustration and embarrassment, pools of tears began to stream down her face and she cried, “I hate him!” 

“You don’t have to be jealous, kiddo.” 

She wailed, and Shouya finally took notice of the volume, beginning to wiggle and fuss in his mother’s arms. Kagome motioned for Inuyasha to take her away so she could calm him down before he had his own fit. The baby was a heavy sleeper and not a huge crier, but he was cranky when woken up. They’d both be miserable with the two of them crying up a storm, especially Inuyasha with his sensitive hearing. 

As soon as he got out the door, he went into comforting mode. There was no use trying to talk to his little girl in this state. He bounced her up and down, shushing her and rubbing her back as she got out her tears and hiccuped. 

Inuyasha wracked his brain for the right approach. He had only recently come to terms with expressing his emotions. How was he supposed to tell a child to handle hers? “It’s okay to have feelings, you know.” 

Exhausted from crying, she slumped against his shoulder. 

“Papa gets jealous too sometimes. Is that what’s happening? You’re jealous?” 

She sniffled and slowly nodded. He could feel the heat and moisture of her tears seeping into his firerat. Probably snot too. 

Gross, he thought affectionately. 

“That’s alright. Do you want to tell me why?” 

He felt her shake her head. 

“And it’s not because Mama’s busy taking care of him?” 

Another no.

He was kind of at a dead end. She was jealous without much reason behind it. Was she capable of having a good reason? He searched the recesses of his mind, channeling the nurturing care of his wife. 

“Even if I love your brother, you know I don’t love you less, right?” 

“Okay,” she replied in a small voice. 

“Does that make it better?” 

Negative. 

Inuyasha sighed, feeling impatient and hopeless. 

Kagome emerged from the hut just then; Shouya once again soundlessly asleep and swaddled against her chest. She smiled at him sympathetically, knowing that crying was never his wheelhouse. He’d always hated when women cried, but Mizuki’s tears were a whole other level of unbearable. 

“The weather is nice. The sunset looks like it’ll be pretty,” she stated in a soft, even tone. 

“Wanna take a look, kiddo?” 

“The colors are pretty. The clouds are getting pink! Our favorite.” 

Mizuki shuffled a little as her father angled himself so that she could see from her place on his shoulder. She turned to rest her cheek on him, but otherwise kept sniffling. 

“Are you feeling any better now?” Kagome asked her daughter, placing a quick kiss to her swollen face. 

Instead of replying, she tugged at her father’s hair again, using it to cover her face. It was a strange, new behavior. Usually when she wanted to hide she’d simply turn her head into his shoulder. Maybe it comforted her though. 

“Not sure why she’s doing that,” Inuyasha murmured. “She does it whenever she has one of her fits now.” 

Kagome stared for a while before she let out the lightest gasp. When the hanyou looked down at her curiously, he saw the familiar expression of her coming to some kind of understanding. 

“Oh, Mizuki…” she cooed with sympathy. “You poor baby.” 

Inuyasha raised a brow and Kagome pulled away to laugh. Whatever it was, he knew she’d explain, but it was killing him to be out of the loop. 

“She just wants to be like her Papa,” she said with soothing empathy threading her tone. Kagome looked up at her husband fondly, taking her hand to cup his cheek. “From his golden eyes,” she ran her thumb across his eyebrow. Then she reached up towards his ears to stroke one until it flicked in response, “To his fuzzy ears…” she smiled brightly, “to his pretty, silver hair…” Kagome finished, loosely twirling a strand around her finger before turning her gaze to their son. 

It clicked for him then. 

“You’re jealous of your brother because of his hair?” 

Mizuki whimpered, the scent of collecting salty tears assaulting Inuyasha once more as she grabbed more of his locks to cascade down over her own head. 

Mystery solved! 

It was so cute and so stupid that Inuyasha wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. 

“Is that really it, ‘Zuki?” 

“I told you, she wants to be just like you,” Kagome reiterates, placing a soothing set of fingers to touch her daughter affectionately. 

“Keh!” Yet somehow he was blushing. Maybe it had to do with the way Kagome was beaming at him, prettier than any sunset. “That’s stu--silly. What a silly reason to be upset.” 

Mizuki huffed in anger. 

“I mean,” he faltered. “It’s sweet. It’s very sweet.” Finally feeling like he had a hold on things and the world made sense again, he mindfully moved back his daughter’s sagging body from his shoulder, some of the hair getting pulled along with her. “But you don’t have to be jealous, little one. You’re great just the way you are, you know that?” He nuzzled their noses together. 

“B-But I want to be like Papa!” she sobbed, pushing back. Not even her snotty nose or blotchy crying face could detract from how wretchedly adorable she was. 

Kagome thought her heart would melt. “Papa is pretty great, but baby, you are so much like him! You don’t have to have everything be the same.” 

It didn’t seem to matter. “Why does the baby have Papa’s hair and I don’t? It’s not fair!” 

Both Inuyasha and Kagome exchanged looks. It was clear that Mizuki wasn’t going to get much consolation from her mother on this issue. 

Finally, an idea popped into Inuyasha’s head. 

“You got my eyes though, don’t ya?” He asked, looking right into her honey colored irises. They were even more intense at this golden hour. 

“Yeah…” her ear twitched along with her sniffle. 

He grinned. “Then you see the same way I do. You see everything I do, right?” 

“Right,” she agreed. 

“When I look at you, I see the most perfect little girl in the world. Beautiful eyes, cute little ears and nose, pretty hair like her mother, and the best smile. I see all that. You see it too?” 

Mizuki’s eyes watered again, but she nodded. Kagome took the time to brush back the hair stuck to her face. 

Inuyasha prodded his daughter more. “You see it, kiddo? Just like me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s what I want to hear!” He pulled her from his body and hoisted her into the air. It was one of their favorite things to do. He spun her around and tossed her until she was nothing but an exhausted heap of smiles, and the stars began to twinkle in the early evening sky. 

Later that night when she was about to sleep, Mizuki looked at her brother for a long time before turning away with a curt, “Goodnight baby. We won’t give you away.” 

Kagome snorted back a laugh and had her husband put her to bed. Crying, laughing, and letting go of a grudge all in one day really took it out of their poor toddler. Still, seeing Inuyasha fumble through feelings and childrearing-- it all felt so surreal. It felt like home, and she’d never been more content with her life. 

Once the kids were both asleep and tucked away, Inuyasha sat behind his wife and finally held her close, his head sitting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent to re-center himself. 

“Tough to be a dad?” she asked teasingly. 

“She’s a lot to handle.” 

“She’s just like her father.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes but let them fall shut as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. 

Kagome turned her cheek and pressed her lips against his bangs. 

“Perfect to me,” she added. 

Embarrassed but happy, he simply tightened his arms around her. “Yeah, yeah.” 

[evolmaze]

truth or drink

summary -  truth or dare never works out, but when you add drinking things just get worse

paring - han x reader ft. twice, the rest of stray kids, bts, and blackpink

genre - fluff, angst, comfort | friends to potential-lovers!au, nonidol!au

word count - 4.6k words

warnings - slight harassment and bullying by O.C. against reader, drinking, very minimal slut shaming of O.C., swearing

 masterlist

“I don’t even wanna go tonight,” Dahyun said, laying on your bed. “Who’s even going to be there?”

“The usual crowd I think, us girls, Han and his friends, Tae and his friends, and I think Jennie and Lisa are coming too,” you conclude, putting the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen Jennie in ages,” Dahyun commented, suddenly sitting up. “I suppose I can make an appearance.”

“That’s more like it,” you laughed, turning around. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely stunning!” she cooed, “Han isn’t gonna know what he’s missing.”

You scoffed, “I’m not doing this for him, I’m doing this for myself.”

“Sure, sure, and you’re absolutely not wearing that blue sweater because he told you it looked nice on you last week?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” you declared, though a slight red hue appeared on your face. “Come one we gotta go soon anyway. Party starts in 20 minutes.”

“No one ever shows up right away, Mina and Jihyo said they aren’t coming till closer to eight.” Dahyun whined, going into the closer to change.

“Yeah, but I promised Bang Chan and Felix I’d help set up, so unless you wanna find your own way there, you’re stuck with me,” you laughed, grabbing your jacket off your desk. Dahyun groaned, but reappeared minutes later, ready to go.

“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

______

“y/n, Dahyun, so glad you could be here to help!” Felix said as he opened the door, quick to grab a couple of bags from you and Dahyun. “Please, please come on in!”

“Thanks, Lix,” you said, closing the door behind. “Any word on when people are planning to show up?”

“It varies really, Tae and his friends said sometime around eight-ish, Changbin and Minho said they’d be here around 7:30, I’m assuming the girls will be here around then as well?”

“Yeah, Sana just texted me now, said they’ll be here in about 20,” Dahyun said, as she started taking bottles out of her backpack and adding them to the drink table.

“Oh that’s awesome, I’m so excited to see them!” you cheered, going over to help her. 

“Excited as you are to see Han?” she teased, nudging your shoulder as she poured a bottle of vodka into a giant container you had bought specifically for wop. Across the room, Felix chuckled as he untangled some cords for the sound system. 

“Oh my god, please shut up,” you plead, your face a slight hue of red as you unscrewed your own bottle. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Sure, sure. Felix did you know that she literally hasn’t stopped talking about this party all week, seems a little coincidental that this also happens to be the first party Han has been able to come to since he left to go visit his parents,”

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you muttered, unable to keep a straight face as the two of them laughed. Dahyun may have had a point, Han had left two weeks ago to visit his parents, which meant you hadn’t seem him for a couple weeks due to conflicting schedules. You missed him, missed his jokes, his vibrant personality. You guys had met about six months ago when Dahyun invited you to a party at her place, and ever since then you guys had hit it off.

“Oh leave the poor girl alone won’t you?” Chan said as he entered the room, laptop in hand. “So she has a thing for the kid, it’s not like you two haven’t ever had a crush.”

“Yeah,” you chimed in, gracious for Chan’s appearance. “If I remember correctly Lix you had quite the infatuation for a certain barista down at Two Rivers, right?” You grinned at his red face, and inability to rebuttal, “and Dahyun,” you said, facing her. “Don’t make me bring up the infamous crush you had last fall-”

“Okay!” Dahyun said suddenly, smacking a hand over your mouth. “Point taken! Sorry y/n, you know I think it’s cute that you like him, I think y’all would be cute together! I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “Apology accepted, sorry for bringing up your past, I promise not to do it again, unless circumstances call for it.” you grinned, running away from her as she chased you with an empty bottle.

______

Music blared from the speakers in the backyard as you sat with Felix and Sana, currently exchanging your thoughts on the latest season of stranger things. “There’s no way Hopper’s actually dead,” you argued, taking a drink. “Why else would they include that clip of him in the promo?”

“I agree!” Sana said, “Plus that’d be so cruel for them to kill him off like that just as he and El were developing a real relationship!”

“Right, and I’d rather die than not see Hopper and Joyce get together, literally made for each other!” Felix agreed, the three of you laughed at his sudden outburst, but sudden stopped as Sana whispered.

“Who invited them here?” you turned towards the entrance of the house, and spotted exactly who she was talking about. Currently talking to Chan and Jennie were two girls who you had briefly met your freshmen year, they were awful; mean and cruel just for their own enjoyment. Unfortunately, at a school so small, circles overlapped, and somehow they ended up at this party.

“God, I hate them,” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. You turned back around. “Think they’ll stay long?”

“Well Aria has a huge crush on Chan I think,” Felix said thoughtfully, “So yeah unfortunately.”

“Fantastic,” you muttered again, annoyed that you even had to be in the same room as them. It wasn’t that Aria and her friend Soon were ever mean to you directly. In fact, you even used to be friends with Soon a couple years ago, but times change, and so do people. While you had learned more about yourself and learned from your wrongdoings, Soon found Aria and together they adhered to this “preppy-high-school-mean-girl” bullshit attitude that never really wore off. 

“Oh don’t be sad, y/n! Look who just showed up,” Dahyun said suddenly as she appeared behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at her as she sat down beside you, but turned around anyway, already knowing who had shown up.

Han Jisung walked through the doors and you hated to admit it, but your heart leaped out of your chest. It had been so long since you had seen him, and not to be cliché, but he was literally glowing. He looked amazing, his hair was still that same raven color you loved. You remembered when he had first dyed it two months ago, he was nervous to go back to a dark color after being blonde for so long, but you had assured him he looked good in any hair color.

“y/n, earth or y/n, hello?” Felix said, waving his hand in front of your face, you jumped, not realizing you had zoned out. Sana and Dahyun laughed as you blushed. “Sorry what?”

“I asked if you wanted to go grab a new drink?” Dahyun laughed, and you look down at your drink.

‘Yeah sure,” you agreed, laughing at yourself as you folllowed her back inside. You crossed the yard, mentally preparing youself to walk by Han, it was dumb, really. He was your friend, there was nothing to be personal about, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t till a weeks ago that you had even developed these feelings for him, and if it wasn’t for a drunken night at Chan’s, no one would have even known you had felt that way, but when you’re drunk, your filter leaves you, and that night you spilled the beans to Dahyun, Sana, Felix, and Chan over a game of truth or dare. You tried to keep it lowkey, you did, but as you got to know him better, it was becoming harder and harder to avoid it.

Dahyun passed Han and Changbin as they talked on the porch, as you did the same someone grabbed your wrist, “y/n!” Han said, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t think you could pass me and not say anything!”

You laughed, and looked at Dahyun who wiggled her eyebrows. “Changbin,” she said, looking past you. “Wanna help me grab some drinks?”

“Sure,” he agreed, brushing past you. “Nice to see you, y/n.”

“You too,” you said, taking his seat next to Han. “So, how was home?”

“It was great,” he said. ‘It was nice to see family and celebrate my grandma’s birthday, but I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m glad you’re back too,” you agreed. “Someone needs to be the life of the party.”

“Oh, you don’t think that Jin already has that handled?” he asked, and you both looked into the house, where he was currently, furiously rapping some song on the karaoke machine.

You laughed, “I’ll admit that he’s pretty chaotic when he wants to be, but there’s only one person I know who enjoys starting conga lines at the most random of times. Remember when you started one when we walked to the grocery store? People were so confused!” you said, and he laughed. 

“Well I’m glad someone appreciates my antics,” he grinned, taking a sip of his own drink. “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

“Nothing too exciting, just the usual.”

“Bullshit, I follow your photography page, that place you went last week looked incredible, you’ll have to take me sometime,” he said, nudging your shoulder.

You blushed, “Ahh thanks, it was so pretty, a super nice hike too, you’d love it. The sunset there was incredible!”

“Well we’ll have to make sure we go at night then,” he mused, and you grinned.

“Oh absolutely, when are you free next week?” you asked, hoping to set something up, hanging out with Han one-on-one was a rare and fun occasion.

“Let me check,” he said, pulling out his phone. About to pull yours out, you suddenly hear the music cut out. A chorus of boos and cheers resounded throughout the party.

“Sorry everyone!” Chan said, mic in hand. “Aria and Soon here wanted me to let everyone know, that if you’re interested, there’s a game of truth or dare happening over here.”

You rolled your eyes, poor Chan, you looked over at Han. “Should we go save Chan from an evening of Aria’s torment and neverending questions?”

“Good idea,” he agreed, standing. “Ayo Seungmin, I.N., you guys wanna go play a couple rounds of truth or dare.”

“Why not?” Seungmin said, standing up, with I.N. following suite. Changbin and Dahyun appeared next to you, with a handful of drinks.

“So true or dare, huh?” Dahyun said. “Classic Aria.”

“It truly is her signature,” you agreed, grabbing two drinks from her and handing one to Han. “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

You made your way over to the firepit where Aria and Chan sat, surround by some others. Jennie and Lisa sat to the left of Chan, while Seungmin and I.N. sat next to them. Soon was next to Aria, and Mina, Jihyo and Sana were next to her. You took a seat in between Dahyun and Han, and Changbin in between you three and Felix. The group waited as a few more people piled in, Jimin and Jungkook taking sets behind Changbin on the brick wall, and Hoseok and Tae taking up seats on the wall as well behind Chan.

‘“Let’s get started, shall we?” Aria said, scanning the group. “Felix, truth or dare?”

______

Numerous rounds had passed since you first sat down, and the rules were simple. If you didn’t want to answer a truth or do a dare, you had to take a shot, but the catch was you only got three shots per game. So far people had jumped into the pool while fully clothed, made out with random party goers, and made prank calls to people who weren’t at the party. So far, you had told everyone which professor you would sleep with if given the chance, called your good friend Solar to tell her her cat had ran away, and told everyone about your most embarrassing moment from 5th grade.

Currently, Tae was attempted to walk along the entire edge of the pool without falling in. “You got this, Tae!” Jimin cheered, getting everyone to start a chant of encouragement. You did your best ro hold in your laughter as Tae slipped at the last second and fell into the pool. A chorus of laughs resounded, and the game continued on.

By now, some people had left to get drinks or eat food, so the only people left were you, Han, Dahyun, Chan, Aria, Soon, Felix, Sana, Seungmin, and I.N.

“Aria, truth or dare?” Soon asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Dare, obviously.” Aria said, a tone of cockiness in her voice. “Truth’s are loser who enjoy being an open book,” she commented, glancing in your direction. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink.

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered under your breath, across the fire, Chan chuckled, amused at your lack of filter coming out.

“What was that?” Aria said, obviously irritated that Chan had laughed at your retort.

“Oh, nothing.” you said, looking up at her as she glared daggers into your eyes. “Soon what’s her dare?”

“Aria, I dare you to make out with Chan!” she said excitedly, and the rest of the group, minus Aria, groaned.

“Shocker,” Dahyun said, and you looked over at Chan who looked less than thrilled to be in this position. 

“Hey don’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do,” you chimed in, worried about Aria’s influence over your friend.

“It’s okay, y/n.” Chan said, taking a quick shot. “I can handle her.”

You sighed, and took a long sip of your drink as the two of them made out for the next 15 seconds or so, as they pulled apart Aria looked at you. “Yeah, y/n, Channie’s a big boy, he can handle himself. Plus he’d probably prefer a girl with experience anyway, unlike you.”

You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time that night, “Sorry Chan, just looking out for you, didn’t want you to get an STD or something.”

Alcohol had this affect on you that sometimes you didn’t realize what you were saying until you had said it, as the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them due to the way Aria started you down, a look of hatred in her eyes. Around you, everyone lost their minds at your reply, some congratulating you on your comeback, others looking shocked the words even came out of your mouth. You weren’t sure how to feel, on one hand Aria deserved a taste of her own medicine for how she belittled every person she ever met that didn’t meet her standards, but also you were never one to slut-shame, so who knows what came over you. Beside you, Dahyun was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, and Han looked so shocked you weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or bad thing.

Aria narrowed her eyes at you, unsure of what had come over you, but sure of what her next move was going to be, ”y/n, truth or dare?”

“Uh-” you started. 

“Don’t bother answering, I’ll pick for you since I already know the answer: truth. y/n, tell me, what’s it like to be a lonely virgin, with no romantics pursuits besides having a crush on a close friend who doesn’t even think of you that way?”

The group quieted down pretty quick after that, you stiffened, shocked she had said that, confused how she even knew that, but mostly concerned of where this was going to go. You were sure that if someone took a photo of you now, you would look like a ghost. Aria cocked an eyebrow at you, “Oh y/n,” she feigned concerned. “Cat got your tongue? Need some help with that? Must be tough to like someone who doesn’t even think of you that way, right? Who goes away for weeks and doesn’t even text you? Let alone think of you in any other way besides a friend. You can call me a slut all you want, but at least I get the things I want, I don’t sit around and wait for them to happen like some stupid hopeless romantic. At least boys answer my texts, what do you get? A pity reply to one of your numerous attempts at a real relationship with him?”

“Aria, shut the fuck up.” Dahyun said beside you, you were frozen in spot, so utterly humiliated, but also amazed at her level of intel, how the hell did she find out?

“Why?” Aria asked. “It’s okay for y/n to blatantly slut-shame me in front of my crush, that I can’t expose her in front of hers?”

“That’s not the point-’” Dahyun said, anger seething from her body. You put a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you said, trying you best to remain calm. “I mean she right, right? What I did was a low-bow, and I’m truly sorry, Aria.” you said, trying to look as sincere as possible despite your mental stability rapidly declining. “It’s only fair you attack right back, but if you don’t mind, I think we’re pretty even now; I think I’ve heard enough.” You finished, your voicing cracking slightly at the end. You quickly got up, and made your way inside the house, ignoring the calls from the rest of the group.

As you entered the house, you got some looks from everyone you passed. Some concerned, some confused, and some just straight up lost as to why you were running through the house crying.

It was your own fault this had happened, you knew Aria was the type to have dirt on everyone, so why didn’t you think about the fact that’d she have dirt on you? You shouldn’t have even responded to her, no matter how much she got under your skin, Aria always won every battle she started, but you never expected her to rebuttal with things so cruel and close to your heart. You just hoped people were too distracted to piece together the underlying meaning.

Your phone buzzed rapidly in your pocket, a call from Dahyun on the screen. You sighed, and picked up the call. “Hey-”

“Are you okay? I swear to god I’ll kill her for saying those things about you! That was so fucked up, you made one comment and she spilled your entire load of dirty laundry for everyone to hear. Where are you? We should go home, forget-”

“Dahyun, slow down.” you laughed, feeling a little less awful than you did before. “I’m in the bathroom, I’ll be back out in a little bit, no need to have Aria ruin this whole party for us.”

“Oh that’s good, I’m glad your okay,” she said. “Aria’s gone anyway, after her little performance, Soon and Chan convinced her to go home for the night. The bitch was too intoxicated to form a coherent thought after she used them all on you.”

You laughed at that, “Serves her right, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good, bye!” she agreed, hanging up the phone. You looked in the mirror, wiping off your mascara that had run onto your face. You pondered how the rest of the night would go, everyone had heard the embarrassing details of your life, but on the other hand, fuck Aria and fuck her for trying to ruin a perfectly good night. Yeah she every right to be upset at you, but unlike her, you could bounce back from this, you determined. How would things go with Han? You had no idea, you suppose it depending on his ability to read between the lines, and whether or not he was too intoxicated to do that or not. 

“It was what it is at this point, I guess.” you said to yourself, accepting your fate, whatever it may be. It was odd, you had always imagined that your crush finding out you like them would be mortifying, but you felt oddly calm, maybe it’s because you knew thing would be okay. You had great friends, supportive friends who would stand by you no matter what, and even if Han did know, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be mean about it, maybe weirded out, but that was only temporary, cause at least then you’d have closure and could move on. 

You exited the bathroom, ready to get another drink and hang with Dahyun and Felix, and everyone else if they were still around.

“y/n!” Sana yelled from the end of the hallway, running up to you. “Are you okay? God I can’t believe Aria did that, she’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, really.” you assured her. “Aria’s a bitch, but it’s not like I didn’t have it coming with what I had said to her.”

“I guess, but she said some really personal things that weren’t her business at all. Everyone knows that she gets around here and there, she even admitted it! You weren’t saying things we didn’t already know,” she said, looking annoyed. “But if you’re fine, then so am I. Wanna grab another drink?” 

“Yes, please.” you laughed, following her into the living room. As you were there getting drinks, you assured many people that were at the fire that you were okay, and you didn’t need them to kill Aria for you.

“y/n!” you stopped talking to Sana and Changbin, and turned around to see Chan, he looked frazzled, a look of worry on his face. “Can we talk?” he asked, you bid your goodbyes to Sana and Changbin, and followed Chan back outside.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“First I wanna say I’m so sorry for Aria’s behavior, I know it doesn’t mean much, but she was pretty drunk, but I’m not sorry that I didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m the reason she was even here, and it’s not cool that she did that to you.”

“Chan, Chan, it’s fine, really. Aria isn’t your responsibility, you’re not her dad or boyfriend, so you couldn’t have predicted she would have done that. I accept your apology, but there’s no need for it, truly.” you assured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good. The other reason I wanted to talk to you was because of that,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the fire. At the fire was Han, Felix and Dahyun sat with him, but he looked distant. It didn’t seem like he was paying them any attention. 

“Is he okay?” you asked. You felt bad, this was your fault.

“Dahyun, Felix, and I have been trying to talk to him, get him to come inside, but he isn’t really speaking to anyone. We all figured he might talk to you; but only if you’re comfortable doing so.” Chan explained, you nodded. “Of course, he’s still my friend.”

Chan and you walked over to the fire, and as soon as Felix and Dahyun saw you were with him, they stood up, leaving with Chan. As Dahyun passed you, she whispered in your ear. “I think he’s just confused is all.” You nodded, understanding.

Han didn’t look up as you sat down, just kept staring into the fire. You weren’t sure what to do, it wasn’t as if you had done any malicious to him in any way, but you’d also understand if he didn’t want anything to do with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence; he didn’t look up. You sighed, “I know you must feel really weird with everything that Aria had said, I swear I didn’t know she was going to say that stuff at all; I honestly don’t know how she found out, but I’m sorry that that indirectly put you in a weird position.”

“Why are you sorry?” he muttered. “It’s not like you asked her to do it.”

“No I didn’t, but what she said involved you, and that’s something you should have heard from me, privately, not in front of all our friends at a bonfire,” you reasoned, nervously chuckling at the hilarity of it all. Who would have thought this was how you night would end? “So, I’m sorry.”

Han put his head in hands, running his fingers through his hair. He sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I-uh, I don't know,” you stuttered, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t want to make things weird, change our friendship in any way. I like being your friend, and we hadn’t been friends for that long when I first realized, so I choose not to say anything in order to keep being your friend. If I’m honest, I thought I’d get over it by now.”

“You thought something like that would end our friendship?” he asked, looking up at you. “y/n, that’s crazy.”

“Well, I don't know!” you exclaimed, “How could I be sure how you’d react? We aren’t exactly best friends, and I hadn’t seen you in awhile, so it felt awkward to hang around after she had said that. Figured it would be easier to leave so you wouldn’t be obligated to talk about it if you didn’t want to. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or made things confusing, that wasn’t my intention, I just didn't know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it, feelings are weird, and you can never be sure how things will turn out, but I still wish you would have said something, don’t you trust me?”

“Han, we may be friends, and I do trust you, but this is probably the one thing I wouldn’t have told you about.” you laughed awkwardly. “Usually people don’t tell their crushes they like them till they’re sure their crush feels the same.”

He blushed, “Ah yeah, that’s a good point, but hey! Who’s to say I don’t feel the same.”

You paused, “You like me?” What was happening right now?

“Well maybe, I don’t know!” he laughed nervously turning an even darker shade of red, and you chuckled. “I feel like we’ve become better friends lately, and I like having you around, like spending time with you. I don’t wanna rush into anything, but I would be down to start hanging out more one on one.”

You smiled, “I feel the same. I don’t want to rush things either, and I’d rather us both be on the same page about it if this does become something in the future.”

“Well I hope it at least means we’ll become better friends,” he said hopefully. 

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling a weight being lifted off you shoulders.

“But I could be okay with us being in a relationship too, I suppose.” he mused, pretending to look thoughtful. You laughed, and lightly kicked his foot.

“I suppose I could be okay with that too,” you joked, and he grinned. “Well if you’re up for it, the offer to go hiking still stands.”

“Let’s do it!” he said excitedly. “We can take some sick pics at the top too!”

“Oh absolutely,” you grinned. “I’d love nothing more.” Han smiled at you, a glint of something promising in his eyes. Everything was going to be fine, you could feel it.

______

a/n: hope y’all like this one, it took a different turn than I thought it was going to, but I still like how it turned out!

[cherryrogers]

➸ only angel

pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: mentions of injury and death, concussed bucky being very very soft.

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: Bucky decides that Heaven is in fact a place on Earth, that place being a medical tent where he’s sure he’s met an angel.

a/n: just a short drabble to get me back in the writing mood :) i haven’t written 40s!bucky before so this was cool to write !!

Bucky had always wondered what Heaven was like. Being at war, he often worried that he’d find out sooner than he’d like to.

He had the stereotypical idea; a bright, never-ending place where souls could live freely and at peace. Darkness being non-existent as warm light encompassed the place in its limitless entirety. Perhaps he’d see his grandparents again, or his fellow soldiers that he’d began missions with and returned to the barracks without. Perhaps he’d encounter God, or even an angel.

As his head smacked against the hard ground below him, Bucky thought he was going to see it all for himself. As his vision blurred and his ears rang, he was sure that his journey to Heaven was about to begin.

As much as he dreamed of a world where war was non-existent, he wasn’t ready to find that place just yet.

Faint sounds of voices and clattering started to pull him back into a conscious state. Wasn’t Heaven supposed to be quiet? Tranquil? Maybe he wasn’t in Heaven — but Hell. Oh no, what if he’d been sent to Hell? Bucky had a good heart, he knew that. There was no way he could be...

If his body wasn’t so exhausted, perhaps he would’ve flinched at the feeling of something touching his forehead. It was soft, whatever it was. The back of someone’s hand, maybe? The idea prompted him to attempt to wiggle his own fingers, which he did successfully, meaning that he thankfully wasn’t in a state of paralysis.

If he could move his fingers, did that mean he could open his eyes...?

It did, Bucky discovered. He also discovered that he hadn’t, in fact, entered the afterlife. There wasn’t an abundance of eternal light enveloping his body-less soul, or a glowing golden gate ready to welcome him into a land of serenity. When his eyes flickered open and adjusted, he concluded that he was in the furthest place from Heaven he could be (following Hell, of course) — the med tent.

Though, he couldn’t complain. Making it off the battlefield wasn’t always possible, and neither was being treated in a tent rather than amid the gunfire. If he were to complain, however, he’d moan that he was starving, ravenous even. His dry throat and splitting headache weren’t too enjoyable either. If only he could jump up from the bed and— holy cow.

An angel. She had to be. Bucky wasn’t in Heaven but he was certain that she’d been sent from there. Unaware as he stared helplessly, she took her bottom lip between her teeth, delicate hands wrapping a white bandage around the arm of the unconscious man on the bed to his right. There was a glow to her skin, not only due to the sweat from working for days on end in an overcrowded space, but because, well, she was beautiful. Radiant. Hair pulled back into what once was a neat low bun, greasy strands falling against her cheekbones. Even the sigh of relief that escaped her lips once the patient’s wound was successfully wrapped had Bucky struggling to find his breath.

An angel. And when you glanced over at him, kind eyes creasing at the corners as you smiled upon seeing him awake, Bucky could’ve sworn he’d never felt more at peace.

“Sergeant Barnes, you’re awake.”

Your voice; like sweet golden syrup dipping from your lips. He offered you a lopsided smile is acknowledgment, English somehow now a foreign language to him. Words. He needed words.

Within moments, you rose from the bed of the unconscious man and wandered over to his bedside, a furrow in your brow as you placed your hand against his forehead once again, sending a shiver down his spine.

“How are you feeling? You were burning up a little earlier.”

“I’m...” Bucky began, searching for the words. Any words. Frankly, he wasn’t really sure how he was feeling, not with the fireworks erupting in his stomach from being in your presence. “Fine. Fine, I think.”

You nodded, happy with his answer. “You hit your head pretty hard, so you might have a bit of a concussion.”

A concussion; perhaps that explained why you had him so mesmerised. Concussion or not, there was no doubt in his mind that you were as lovely as he was seeing you now.

“So... I’m not dead?”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “No, you are not. Why would you think that?”

“Just thought you might’ve been an angel, that’s all.”

There was a short silence, and for a moment Bucky thought that he’d been too forward, too honest. He could’ve blamed it on the concussion, but he’d have been lying blatantly through his teeth. However, you then gazed down at him with a smirk, eyes locking with his for only a second before grabbing a damp towel from the table beside you.

“So you’re definitely concussed,” You teased, dabbing gently at the small cuts on his forehead. “I’m not sure what angels look like; they don’t look like me, though, I can tell you that.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I think I’m missing a halo and a pair of wings, for a start.”

The man pursed his lips, unsure that you’d possibly be able to understand how you appeared to him. “Well I thought you were one, doesn’t that mean somethin’?”

“Like I said, you’re concussed. Forgive me for not entirely trusting your judgment,” You grinned as he rolled his eyes, not being able to argue back. You moved the towel from his face to his arms, clearing the crimson stains from his pale skin gently. “I’ve gotta say, though, that’s quite the compliment to receive. Tell me, do you use that one on all the girls?”

Bucky shook his head with a smirk. “The girls who I’m convinced have been sent down from above, yes.”

“And how many girls would that be?”

“Only one.” He answered sincerely, earning himself a scoff.

A few quiet moments followed his words; Bucky noticed as your eyes danced over his arm, eyeing each and every scar he’d accumulated over his time as a soldier. A flicker of a frown tugged at your lips, but it’d disappeared within the same second of it’s appearance before you let out a short breath, stealing your eyes away from his skin and looking up.

“Do you really believe in angels, Sergeant?” You raised a brow, asking seriously despite the curve of your lips as you slowed the movement of the towel against his arm.

You met his gaze; bright blue irises almost stirring you into your own daze. Pink lips curling, he smiled. “There’s women out here working day and night to make sure that every man has the best chance of surviving this war. They barely sleep, have to work fast and smart. They’re covered in dirt and blood but they don’t care to mind— and I’ve met one of them today who’s so beautiful that I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven... so yeah, I believe in ‘em.”

It was the concussion, it had to be. Only a nurse like every other girl around you, you weren’t any different. The Sergeant of the 107th; it wasn’t the first time you’d heard his name. The girls took a liking to him the minute they spied him heading off on his first mission. He could have any of them if he wanted, call any of them angels from up above and have them falling to their knees.

Though within minutes of meeting him, you found yourself thanking the angels watching over you for guiding him your way. He was sweet, like the large pink lollipops your mother used to buy you from the local candy store on the weekends; one taste of the sugary bliss on your tongue was all it took to get you hooked.

Being his angel perhaps could be your own blessing.

“I’m not sure, Sergeant,” You stood from the bed, warmth pooling in your cheeks as you gazed down at the soldier, whose brows were innocently knitting together in confusion. “A pretty boy happens to end up in my row of beds, thinks I’ve been sent from up above and tells me I’m beautiful when I’m covered in sweat and blood? I think you might be the angel.”

He beamed, tempted to deny your words but unable to as he observed the twinkle in your eyes. In his mind, he was nowhere as ethereal as you; he hardly knew you, but he’d make sure he did before the war separated the two of you, one way or another.

When his mind wasn’t hazy, he’d come back to you. Not intentionally, but when there was pain shooting through his body and he needed someone to heal his wounds, he’d ensure that he was back in that exact bed, in the place he’d thought to be Heaven with the nurse he’d thought to be like no other woman he’d laid eyes upon.

Blood-spattered wings and off-white attire that fell to your knee, a dim halo messily placed atop your head; your laugh a soft symphony, similar to the sound one could pluck from the strings of a golden harp.

An angel, you had to be. And the sultry, cramped tent in which no man ever wanted to end up — if that’s where his angel was, then that’s where his Heaven was too.

[tk-writer]

Two can play at that game. [Saiouma/Oumasai]

This was it. The moment of truth.

Saihara knew he was playing into Ouma’s hand, but even so he still felt pretty victorious. A long day that started with Ouma stealing his case files ended with the little gremlin pinned down like a butterfly on an observation table. Despite that, the supreme leader was grinning up at him like he was the one who was really in control. And maybe he was. But Saihara had learned a thing or two about putting on a good front, thanks to him. So two could play at that game.

“Gotcha,” the detective whispered with a feeble smirk, doing his best to summon what little confidence he had inside.

“Indeed you do,” replied the shorter man, showing no sign of concern whatsoever. Mischief twinkled in his eyes, as if this had been part of his plan all along. “Good job, Mr. Detective. Whatcha gonna do now?”

That, he was unsure of. Most of his focus had gone towards neutralizing his former classmate, not what was to come after. The raven-haired man came up with a silly idea that even he was embarrassed to say aloud, but he figured it would be a harmless way to get back at him for being such a nuisance all day.

“I’m gonna tickle you,” he said, adjusting his position so he had better access to his slim figure. That earned him a scoff and more blatant denial.

“Tch! Sorry to break it to you, but I’m not ticklish! Neeheehee!”

There was something strange about what he said in that moment. Anyone else would’ve brushed it off, but Saihara had known him long enough to catch onto the little cracks in his disguises. Whether it was him speaking in a slightly higher pitch than normal, using a fake laugh to cover up something sinister, or in this case, a small tremor while saying a certain word.

He was bluffing. And Saihara was going to prove him wrong, right here, right now.

It was easier said than done, though. The thought of touching Ouma so delicately was flustering, to say the least. Saihara felt his face growing hot just thinking about it. Even just watching him lay there, completely limp and at his whim, was enough to make him choke from pressure. He looked down and saw that the hem of his shirt had risen in their struggle and a small patch of pale skin peeked out. 

He held both of Ouma’s tiny wrists in one hand as he planned his next moves. 

Slowly, slowly, his hand got closer to Ouma’s semi-exposed belly. He felt his heart pounding against his chest, practically throwing itself against his ribcage. His entire head must’ve looked like it was steaming. Meanwhile, Ouma didn’t look the least bit worried. He kept a neutral expression, showing neither excitement nor nervousness at his current predicament.

“Well? I’m waiting!”

“Just… hush.”

It was now or never. Finally mustering the courage, he started tracing a line across his skin, right above the waist of his shorts. He watched Ouma carefully, taking note of any subtle changes in his expression or body movements. However he didn’t see anything noteworthy. Maybe he wasn’t hitting the right place?

Or maybe Ouma’s concentration was just hardened. He did look a little strained, like he was putting all his effort into not reacting. That was promising at least.

He trailed to his sides, testing out the waters there. That’s when he saw him flinch, ever so slightly. There it was! He lingered in that spot, dragging the tips of his nails up and down in a steady pattern.

“...Mmmh! Eheh…!”

Saihara paused. It was quiet, but he definitely heard something.

“Was that a giggle?”

Ouma was still grinning, but it looked a little different. Less know-it-all and more… panicked. As if his true thoughts were breaking through.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about!” sang the trapped leader, still committed to his act.

Saihara kept up his ministrations, adding a little more pressure as he started to gently poke his ribs. At every touch he saw more subtle twitching, heard more muffled noises, sensed more of his growing nervousness. Despite his efforts to keep quiet, a couple more strained giggles made their way to Saihara’s ear. This was certainly getting to him.

“Something wrong?”

“Nggh, no! I - aha! - you… I’m not - ehehe!”

“You’re lying.”

He decided to take it up a notch. While Ouma was squeezing his eyes shut, he jumped to his stomach and spidered his fingers across the exposed skin rapidly. The element of surprise seemed to be the secret ingredient. Ouma was beginning to crack. He let out a squeal, then suddenly started cackling uncontrollably. 

It was a real laugh. Not a smirk, a sneer, or an evil snicker, but a true, genuine laugh.

It was musical and joyous, like a child playing with his friends. Unfitting for someone who was supposed to be an evil supreme leader. Saihara couldn’t help but crack a smile; he never thought he’d be able to hear Ouma laugh for real, so for him this was a real treat.

“I guess that wasn’t a complete lie,” he teased. “You’re not just ticklish. You’re super ticklish.”

“Gahahaha - AHAHAHAHA! Shutup!!!”

“What’s the matter? You can barely speak and I’m not even touching you that much.”

“STAHAHAHAHAP! I’m nahahahat!!”

There was no way he could, not after Ouma had so ardently denied this fact. Saihara was going to enjoy this for as long as he could. He began to climb his sides like a ladder, hitting every sensitive spot on the way up to his underarms which were a whole new level of ticklishness. Ouma actually shrieked when he touched him there, which made Saihara laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. He leapt from one side to the other, scrambling his hand for a few seconds before moving back to the other, all while Ouma screamed with laughter and put all his strength into getting away. Saihara held him tightly, unwilling to let go.

Then he started getting creative. He began stroking his neck, ever so lightly, and that seemed to tickle him in a new way. The detective’s smirk continued to grow as he watched his victim scrunch his shoulders in a feeble attempt to block it out. Whenever that happened, though, he’d jump to the other side and scribble there, and once in a while he’d flick his ears just to throw him off. Every time he moved, Ouma’s giggles increased in volume. 

After a few more minutes, Saihara figured he’d had enough. His face was tomato red, he could barely spit out a full sentence, and his entire body kept twitching even after Saihara’s hand left him. He sucked in large gulps of air, trying to regain his aloof persona.

“So… -huff!- You think you’ve won… huh?”

Saihara nodded triumphantly.

“I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Neeheehee… Saihara is soooo gullible! I was faking the whole time!”

The detective raised an eyebrow. Ouma must’ve been desperate. There was no way he thought Saihara would actually believe him at this point.

“Oh, really? Were you faking when I did this?”

He dug one finger into his hip bones without warning, and Ouma’s struggles began anew. He let out a loud yelp before bursting into the same childlike giggles as before. He bounced up and down, trying to shake him off, but his efforts were in vain.

“GAHAHAHAHA! Nooooooo!”

Saihara stopped again, hoping to have proven his point.

“Was that fake too?”

Ouma huffed and puffed again, but he still refused to give in. He flashed another devious grin, still unwilling to admit defeat.

“Yup! You sure catch on fast!”

His behavior was puzzling. Usually Ouma admitted when Saihara was right, but for some reason he kept dragging this out. It wasn’t like him to be a sore loser even if things didn’t go his way.

But then, Saihara realized something. Something that made his heart flutter from how adorable it all was.

He smiled down at Ouma, hands poised for another attack.

“I get it. You want me to keep doing this. You like when I do this.”

There it was. A look of panic struck through Ouma, the first clue that proved Saihara’s hunch was right. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to confirm what he already knew.

“You’re really delusional if you think that!” Ouma spat at him. Ah, more denial. He was getting somewhere. “Do you think I’m some sort of freak? Who wants that?!” His voice sounded more alarmed the longer he rambled. Good.

“Who wants… what? Tickling? Why don’t you say it?”

“Because… because… neeheehee! Just kidding, you’re totally right! I have SUCH a huge thing for it. Congratulations, Pooichi! You figured it out!”

Once again, Ouma had flipped the script hoping it would favor him in the long run. However, Saihara had expected that, and he wasn’t going to let this go without some sort of confession.

“Then say it.”

“Hmm? Say what?”

“Say you like being tickled. If it’s true, it’s no problem for you, right?”

“...”

When he didn’t answer, Saihara wiggled his hand above his stomach again in a threatening notion. Ouma began to visibly squirm.

“Say it… or else I’ll keep going until you do!”

Ouma bit his lip, the gears turning in his head. It seemed his table turning had backfired.

“...Alright. I like it.”

“What do you like?” Saihara wisped his stomach again, delighted to see his rival laughing and worming around once again.

“Aha! Ehehehehe! Fine!! Iwantedyoutotickleme!”

Not exactly what he was expecting, but it was satisfying nonetheless. He backed off again, letting Ouma’s wrists go. His arms immediately went to his sides. He hugged himself protectively as a few residual giggles managed to sneak out.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

When he calmed down, Ouma looked at him again as a faint blush dusting his round cheeks. He quickly shook it off before putting on another front to mask his giddiness.

“Saihara-chan is such a perv… he just wanted an excuse to touch his beloved nemesis. Neehee…”

“What if I did?”

That appeared to throw him off, since he actually tripped over his next words as if he couldn’t think of a response quickly enough.

“Huh!! Um, yeah! Aha, what if, indeed.”

Saihara rolled his eyes playfully, picking up the discarded case files on the floor before making his way out of the room. He saw Ouma watching him from the corner of his eye and smiled again before heading out to finish the rest of his daily duties. It was pretty cute, the way he longed for more yet was unwilling to say it aloud. It was something they would have to work on, but for now, Saihara was happy to keep playing along.

[wylanvnneck]

“On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?” for Jurdan, please???? 🖤🖤🖤

Humorous Prompt #6: “On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?”

Fandom: TFOTA

Ship: Jurdan

Masterlist | Send me a prompt

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“He’s not really picturing a Pork Cutlet Bowl for inspiration is he?” Cardan’s wry question is more of a rhetorical one, considering the fact that they both knew the answer to it, but Jude still felt the need to reply.

“Nope.”

The two of them were lying across the couch, Jude’s head tucked under Cardan’s chin and his arm loosely slung over her denim-clad hip, both their gazes riveted to the laptop screen on the low table in front of them. Vivienne had browbeat them into promising that they would watch the anime that she’d recommended whilst she and Heather were gone for one of Oak’s school meetings and she’d even gone so far as to threaten them with locking away the mini marshmallows so they’d have to suffer through marshmallow-less hot chocolate if they didn’t comply.

Jude wouldn’t really have minded that, but Cardan had a weakness for them and she had a weakness for the adorable look that would appear on his face whenever she brought him a mug with the confections floating within it, so that’s how they’d found themselves spooning on the couch together, watching an anime about an awkward Japanese Ice Skater Yuri and his delectable Russian coach Viktor.

As much as she hated to admit it, Vivi had good taste. The animation was beautiful, almost as beautiful as Elfhame, and the storyline was adorable and interesting, with a fantastic soundtrack to go along with it. The day was warm and tranquil and it felt good to be snuggled cozily in her husband’s arms, his heartbeat pressed against her spine and their thousands of responsibilities as High King and Queen nowhere near their little bubble.

They watch Yuri skate in comfortable silence, the whole performance captivating, and in between episodes she can feel Cardan making the tiniest of shifts in his position behind her, little movements, lightly stroking her hip over the fabric of her t-shirt, leaning down to smell her hair or to place a gentle kiss on the curve of her ear that marked her mortality and each time there’s a little burst of something inside her.

They’d made it about halfway through the 12 episode long series before Cardan reaches over to pause it, reluctantly detaching his body from hers and sitting up, making her do the same, turning to face him as she sits cross-legged. He stretches his arms up in the air and her eyes follow the movement, admiring him. His dark gaze catches her doing it, his eyes glittering and a grin spreading over his face and she merely raises her eyebrows at him in response, unapologetic.

“On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?” He asks, his voice light in a way that only happened when he was truly content.

She feels an answering smile curve her lips. “Eleven.”

He laughs, his raven locks flopping over his face messily and he leans forward to peck her lips before pushing himself off the couch and heading off to the kitchen. “Got it, two packets of Nachos coming right up.”

“Make sure they’re the spicy kind!” She calls out after him.

“Of course, only the best for My Queen,” comes his reply and it’s stupid, how sweet his words are.

Flopping back down on the sofa she distracts herself by studying the laptop screen, watching the seconds tick by on the clock at the bottom of the screen when silence is broken by an odd jingle, and a little square popping up at the bottom right hand corner of the screen. Written on that square is a name that makes Jude sit up straight. Taryn Duarte.

The jingle is still playing in the background but it sounds blurry, as though it was playing from somewhere far far away instead of right in front of her. Taryn. She hadn't spoken to her heavily pregnant twin sister in quite a while, and the last that she’d heard of her was that she had gone to visit Madoc and Oriana in the place where they lived in the mortal world, somewhere quite far away, thankfully. The thought of Taryn makes the subsequent feelings of anger and hurt and betrayal rise up within her, ruthlessly chasing away the contentment that had filled her just minutes ago.

Frantically, she searches for the red decline button with the cursor and attempts to click on it but she can’t quite bring herself to do it. She hates that she can’t, but thoughts of Taryn in distress whilst carrying a child, Taryn in danger and needing help flood her mind and that old protective instinct that had been instilled in her for so long compels her to click on the green accept button instead.

“Jude?” Taryn’s voice sounds the same, mixed in with surprise at seeing her twin answer the call instead of Vivi.

“Taryn.” Her throat is dry.

“I- I called because Madoc and Oriana wanted to speak to Oak, and Vivi has said they could call on this thing” she gestures at the screen, “called Skype when they wished to and they needed help to set it up.” Taryn looks the same as ever, almost a mirror image of Jude herself, except for the huge swell in her belly where Jude’s unborn niece or nephew resided. Locke’s child. That reminds her of the first time Taryn had ever betrayed her, allowing Locke to mess with her, knowing full well that he had been seeing the both of them at the same time, playing them against each other and she had let it happen. The memory makes her shutter, closing her expression and making it cold.

“Oak is at school with Vivi. Tell them to call later.” She moves the cursor and it hovers over the red button to end the call.

“Jude, I-” Her twin starts to speak.

“Don’t, Taryn. Not now. Not yet.”

She catches a glimpse of Taryn pursing her lips together and nodding imperceptibly before the call ends. Jude wasn’t ready to try and mend the bridge between them yet and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be. Her emotions are all over the place, roiling inside of her like the waves of the Undersea during a storm.

She punches the couch beneath her, hard, and the force barely makes an impact and she longs for the adrenaline rush of battle, the feeling of focused control that she gets when holding Nightfell in her hand. But Nightfell wasn’t here to help her distract herself and she was powerless against the pain.

Cardan is inordinately pleased with himself for managing to salvage two packs of spicy Nachos. It had taken quite a while for him to root them out from the back of the cupboard behind jars of condiments and Oak’s Skittles stash but he’d eventually proved victorious. Eager to return to Jude and their Yuri on Ice binge he strides into the room, nachos clutched in hand, expecting his wife to be impatiently awaiting him. Instead, the expression she turns on him when she sees him standing in the doorway is one full of anguish and the sight tears at Cardan’s excuse of a heart.

“Jude? Jude what’s wrong?” He’s by her side and wrapping his arms around her in the next moment and concern tugs at him when she simply rests her head against his neck, her breathing heavy.

“Taryn called.” Her voice is muffled against the fabric of his hoodie.

Cardan’s gaze flicks to the laptop. He’s not entirely sure how mortal devices worked, but he thinks he’s safe in making the assumption that Taryn had somehow attempted to call Vivi on her laptop and Jude had ended up answering instead. He now understands Jude’s behaviour. She and her twin had never been able to mend the differences that had erupted between them in the past few months and he doubts that his wife had been ready to speak to her twin so soon after everything that had happened.

And he definitely couldn’t blame her. Just thinking about the twin that Jude had once fought so hard to protect, from him as well, only to have her loyalty thrown back in her face by her sister’s treachery made him clutch Jude a little tighter to him. If it hadn’t been for Jude’s insistence that her pregnant twin be left alone, she would have faced punishment for her actions long before now.

“She called on behalf of Madoc and Oriana. They wanted to speak to Oak. I should have known she’d go running back to him. After all, she is his most loyal daughter.” Her words are painted with both bitterness and resignation.

He thinks carefully before starting to speak. “I know you and your sister are far from the relationship you once had and I know that it hurts you, Jude. But I also know that you are strong, unbelievably strong, and when the time is right I know you’ll make the right decision. Whether you want to try and mend your bond or move onwards, know that I will support you in whatever you choose.” He moves to press a kiss to her temple.

“How do you always know what to say?” she lets out a slow breath, pulling back to meet his gaze. “Do you think I should try talking to her?”

“I do think that you two will need to talk at some point. However, that day is not today. Come, my love, let’s not let her ruin one of our few days away from the palace. Put her out of your mind for now and have some nachos.”

“Kiss me?” Her request reminds him of a time that seemed to have been eons ago, a moment on her bed, the sheets silky beneath his drunken form looking up at her and wanting distraction, a cure. Kiss me until I am sick of it.

He gives her the distraction she needs.

She meets him halfway when he leans down to connect their lips and he moves his mouth against hers slowly but thoroughly, his heart thumping the way it always did around her. Only ever her.

Everything around them melts and they are oblivious to their surroundings as Jude’s hands card through his hair and he strokes a light path along her waist, which is why they are caught by surprise when they hear Vivi’s grinning voice sounding from the doorway.

“Alright, playtime’s over children, Oak and Heather will be here any second now and we don’t need the poor boy to see that.” She wiggles her tawny eyebrows suggestively and Jude pulls away from him, her face flushing despite her best efforts at hiding it. Ignoring the slight pang of loss at his wife moving out of his arms, he turns to give his favorite sister-in-law a mischievous grin to which she responds by rolling her cat’s eyes.

Sure enough Oak comes charging into the room seconds later and jumps right up onto the couch, wiggling between Jude and Cardan and tucking himself in next to his sister and chatting in her ears about his day at school and how he’d scored a goal at soccer practice and Jude is laughing and ruffling his chocolate hair, her agitation from earlier forgotten for now.

He watches his wife and her brother talking as he reaches for the forgotten packets of nachos from the table knowing that soon the entire family would be squished together on the couch watching movies and making hilarious commentary over snacks, and the whole thing is so domestic and comforting and it feels better than alcohol, better than drugs, better than losing himself in debauchery the way he used to. It feels like family.

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@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln I hope you like this one, Clueless Penguin™, thanks for sending in a prompt ❤

The fact that Taryn’s crimes seemed to largely go unanswered for and that she and Jude never really got closure has always niggled at me, but I have yet to read HTKOELTHS so maybe there’s something about it in there? Either ways here is some Jurdan fluff with some Jude angst mixed in. Also, the fact that Jude and Cardan watching YOI is canon still makes me squeal and if you wanna fangirl over that anime with me feel free to✨

Okay, on to tagging the lovely people on my taglist: @cupcakesandkittens, @thewickedkings, @kittkatandbooboo, @annabethjackson0001 and @fangirlprincess09

As always, please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my TFOTA taglist.

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter 11

Summary: The Inner Circle rings in the New Year. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: brief mention of (implied) self-harm scars, themes of depression Bittersweet Masterlist

“I fucking hate the holidays,” was Emerie’s greeting to Nesta a couple days after Christmas.

Nesta glanced up from the drinkware she was cleaning to watch Emerie hang her jacket on the hanger in a huff. Her raven hair was pulled back in a loose braid, her eyes lined thickly with kohl and mascara. Nesta couldn’t help but smirk with amusement. “I take it seeing the family didn’t go well?”

Emerie snapped her head to glare into Nesta’s eyes. “They spent all of Hannukah lecturing me about doing something else with my life, something more respectable than 'slinging drinks around a dirty bar,’” she recalled with air quotes, her lip curled in disgust.  

Nesta dried the last glass. She threw the towel on the counter and turned to face her coworker. Crossing her arms, Nesta inquired, “And your response was?”

“I threatened to go into sex work.”

Nesta quirked a brow. “I thought you already worked at Euphoria on the weekends. If I recall correctly, you invited me to watch one of your performances.”

“Yes, Nesta, I'm aware that I'm already a stripper. That's the beauty of it. I threaten to join an even more unconventional line of work so they will accept my moderately unconventional job. They would much rather I bartend than strip.”

Nesta snorted. “I can’t argue with that logic.”

Before Emerie could try to convince Nesta to visit her at Euphoria again, Helion swooped in from behind them. He planted a loud kiss on Emerie's cheek. She feigned disgust, wiping the spot where his lips had been. Turning to him, Emerie smacked his chest playfully.

"Hello to you, too. You look ravishing," Helion wiggled his eyebrows with a wolfish grin.

Emerie rolled her eyes. "I'm immune to your charm, Helion. You should know that by now."

Helion gave her a questionable look that said, You sure about that?

He then turned his attention to Nesta with a grin and took a step forward - most likely to try to kiss her cheek as well - but he was quickly met with a death glare. He did this every time he came into work, and Nesta always rejected his affection. She had to admit he had balls for not giving it up.

Then again, he was a certifiable slut.

Helion's hands were raised in surrender when he turned to address both of them.

“I see you ladies are falling behind," he said, nodding his head to the current score of their little competition. Helion had titled the game, "Who's Got the Biggest Tip?" with an obscene drawing next to it.

Nesta looked behind her at the chalkboard. She was in last place.

The tip competition hadn’t even crossed Nesta’s mind. What with college, Tomas, and family, she wasn’t quite prioritizing the opportunity to man the music at Rita’s. Free booze on the other hand... that she could get with.

“Hey, I’m not that far behind you!” Emerie protested. “It’s Nesta who’s lagging behind.”

They both turned to her. Nesta merely stood there as they inspected her, Helion rubbing his chin in contemplation while Emerie tilted her head as if she would see something different horizontally.

“I’m not entirely surprised,” quipped Helion. “I mean, she’s gorgeous, but if looks could kill…”

Emerie hummed in agreement. She gestured to Nesta’s chest. “The uniform does wonders for her tits. It’s just once you get to the face. The hair can be let down, maybe pinch some color on her cheeks.”

Nesta continued to give them a blank stare. She was highly unamused.

“Don’t forget the smile,” Helion chimed in.

“How could I forget? Gods, her resting bitch face is even worse than mine.”

"There's potential, though."

"Undoubtedly."

Before the mischievous duo decided to go all "Miss Congeniality" on her, Nesta interrupted their daydream. “Are you guys done?”

Her question brought them back to reality. Helion sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Time to make some tips."

With that, the three of them got to work. Throughout the night, Nesta found herself trying to smile more. At customers, at Emerie and Helion. But every time she managed to pull her lips up, an invisible weight seemed to drag them back down to a deep frown.

Smiling had never been so hard.

They were celebrating New Year’s Eve at Feyre and Rhysand’s place. Nesta hadn’t been looking forward to it considering they had all just gotten together on Christmas Day. Seeing her sister’s asshole of a boyfriend and her infuriating neighbor biweekly was enough for her, thank you very much.

The night was uneventful. Elain had volunteered to be the designated driver, so Nesta took the opportunity to have more than just a couple drinks. By the time the clock struck 11:30, Nesta was far gone. She rarely ever got drunk in social situations, instead choosing to get fucked up in the comfort of her own home. The last thing she wanted was to lose control and do something she would regret the next morning.

But all those worries were thrown out the window the minute she had her first sip of liquor.

Nesta hated the phenomenon of New Year’s resolutions. She hated the idea of self-reflection, of changing, of setting a personal goal. It was bullshit. She felt this obligation to be better. To change into an entirely different person, someone sensitive and warm and outgoing. In other words, someone - anyone - except for herself. It was suffocating.

So as Nesta downed drink after drink, she watched the people around her – she doesn’t quite consider them friends, save for Amren – waiting for the new year to begin. Particularly Elain and Azriel.

Since Elain confessed her feelings for Azriel to Nesta – though some may say Nesta forced Elain to spill the beans – Nesta had been watching them like a hawk. Elain hadn’t yet been in a relationship, at least to Nesta’s knowledge. Perhaps that was why Nesta felt so protective over her sister. That, or because she was the most gentle person Nesta knew.

Nesta didn’t know much about Azriel. Their conversations had been scarce. All she really knew was what Elain told her. He had grown up across the street from Cassian and Rhysand, and the three of them had been thick as thieves since childhood. While Rhysand attended Pryth U and Cassian joined the Marines, Azriel stayed home after graduating high school to take care of their mother, much like Elain with their father. But their mother died just a few months after the three boys graduated. After working a couple minimum wage jobs, Azriel founded a local animal shelter a couple years ago with his friend and since then, his entire life had been dedicated to it.

From what Nesta could tell, Azriel seemed like a good man. But she could tell he still struggled with things from the past. And it wasn’t just the scars on his hands that gave it away. Feyre had briefly mentioned to Nesta that Azriel had gotten in trouble with the law many times in his younger years. Although Feyre didn't elaborate on his wrongdoings, Nesta couldn't help but imagine the worst.

Nesta would be lying if she said she didn't see similarities between herself and Azriel. The scars, the haunted looks, the guarded demeanor. And because she knew that there was no way she could possibly be in a healthy, functioning relationship, she had a feeling that Azriel couldn't either. It was painfully clear that he hadn’t yet dealt with whatever trauma he’d experienced. If he were to get into a relationship with Elain, it would only end in heartbreak for her.

Nesta watched from the kitchen table as Elain and Azriel played the Wii. Nesta could tell just by Elain’s body language that she was smitten. Her entire body leaned towards his when they sat next to each other to take a break from their “bowling” competition. And while Azriel engaged with her, Nesta noticed the hesitance in his expression, the way he shied away when Elain got too close. Almost like it was a reflex.

Nesta's hand twitched. She wanted to interfere.

It’s Elain’s life, Nesta reminded herself. As much as you worry, she has to be the one to make her own decisions.

With that uneasy thought, Nesta relaxed back into the kitchen chair she was sitting on and took a large gulp from the mixed drink she held. Everyone was mingling in the living room as Nesta watched from the breakfast bar. All their backs were facing her, offering her the slightest bit of solace knowing that no one was paying attention to her.

She hadn't seen much of Cassian tonight. They both seemed to be holding themselves to their agreement to distance themselves from one another. He seemed perfectly content to stay out of Nesta's way, and Nesta felt the same. She just couldn't help but be surprised he hadn't tried to get a rise out of her.

At least, not yet. There was always time.

Nesta loathed the way Cassian was able to get under her skin, hated the way he made her feel. She didn't understand it. He was virtually a stranger and yet he made her blood boil. And all because he found it entertaining to watch her lose control? Gods, he was twisted.

As the thirty-second countdown began, the couples paired off. Mor grabbed Aurra until nothing separated them. Feyre leaned against the wall and Rhysand rested his hands above her head. That only left Azriel, Elain, Nesta, Cassian, and Amren.

Cassian and Amren remained seated on the couch that was directly in front of Nesta. Amren was whispering to him, no doubt making fun of every couple in the room. They laughed together. Then of course, Azriel turned to Elain with a shy smile.

And that left Nesta sitting alone at the bar, her drink half empty. Her glazed over eyes followed Elain and Azriel.

Ten.

They looked at each other.

Nine.

Azriel took a couple steps closer.

Seven.

Azriel dipped his head to Elain’s ear and whispered something.

Five.

Elain blushed. She looked up at him and nodded with a smile.

Three.

Azriel gripped her waist with one hand and pulled her in.

Two.

Elain melted into his touch.

One.

They stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

Zero.

Azriel pressed a soft kiss on Elain’s cheek. She closed her eyes as if she were trying to savor it, to hold onto that moment for as long as she could. Azriel’s lips reluctantly left her cheek, only for him to lean his forehead on her temple. Their chests rose and fell heavily, their breath seemingly in sync. They remained like that for a moment, both unwilling to let go of one another. It wasn’t until Rhysand hooted, “Happy New Year,” that Azriel broke away from her and re-entered the present. Eyes wide, all they could do was blink at each other, the air between them palpable with uncertainty and excitement and pain and hope.

Everyone around them was cheering. It was almost too loud for Nesta. Her ears rang.

As everyone around them laughed and yelled, Cassian looked behind his shoulder from where he sat and his eyes met Nesta’s.

They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before Nesta flipped him off.

Nesta could've sworn Cassian's eyes brightened before he returned the gesture.

---------------------------------

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[serararku]

Where the Wild Things Are Pt 4

<Theme>

By the time the dirty deed was done, the sun hung high in the sky. It had thoroughly burned away last night's thunderclouds and was halfway done pummeling Thanalan like a drum with its blistering heat. The huntresses were done sharpening their spears, blades and arrows, the wives had already awoken the young to begin their chores, and the sentries had returned to their posts to begin their watch anew. 

Era stirred from her slumber with a thirst strong enough to wake the dead. The first thing she noticed was the soft wool blanket draped over their bodies, two large clay pots filled with crystal-clear water, and a pair of leather loincloths and cloaks; there was only one person that came to mind that was sober enough last night to do this. "Thanks, mom…" Carefully she lifted the covers off her body and wiggled free from her sleeping Nunh's grasp. She had used every trick and every technique in her arsenal to leave a lasting impression, and judging by the stains, smell, and bruises, hopefully her hard work paid off.

There was nothing sweeter than fresh oasis water after a long night such as that one. She couldn't contain herself- once the cool drink splashed against her upper lip, she tilted it back and drank deep. Gulp…! Gulp…! Gulp…! Gulp…! Some of it slipped from the corners of her lips and trickled down her chin, but she couldn't care less; it was too refreshing to notice anything else. With her ravenous thirst defeated, she wiped her mouth dry with her forearm before eyeballing the other one. Surely Vahli wouldn't mind if his favorite wife wanted a little extra?

“Nngh… not so fast…” He groggily groaned as he forced himself onto his side. Undoubtedly he was jolted awake by how obnoxiously loud her drinking was; Era was many things, but a quiet eater was definitely not one of them. Vahli reached over and lifted the large pot with a single hand, but not before pouring half of it into the empty one. A grunt slipped through clenched teeth when he pushed himself up into a sitting position, then he knocked his drink back in only a few giant gulps. Era remained still and silent as she waited for him to quench his thirst. “You weren’t a maiden were you?” Her ears flattened against her head and her breath caught in her throat. She was awful at lying on the spot- and the flicker in his deep red eyes let her know Vahli knew the truth. “No maiden could do what you did last night. But… I’m not angry.” He added reassuringly. “You lived in the tribeless cities for over a year. And with a woman like you… well… Tia of all kinds tend to gather in those places. I want to say I’m disappointed but that would be a lie.”

“Why…?” Was all Era could mumble.

With another grunt and a sharp wince, he tucked his feet beneath him and rose to his full towering height. “Denoh had you exiled from the tribe. You were his by right of conquest. And yet you ran away to chase the man who actually managed to kill your father. But when I defeated him- quite easily I might add- your mother begged me to overrule his decision.” Vahli slowly walked to the window to bask in the warmth of the harsh sunlight. He turned just enough to glance down at Era, and motion for her to join him. “Family is all we have. The Zu… no. All Miqo’te are stronger together. I could not refuse her request… I could not keep a mother from her firstborn daughter.”

“Thank you…” Era sighed, rising to her feet to stand beside him. Maybe it was a good idea she didn’t keep contact after all; knowing she was exiled would have destroyed her. “I.. don’t know what to say.”

“Your ‘thank you’ is enough.” Vahli crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “But not all of my reasons were selfless. She told me you were the most beautiful of all her children. I… hoped you would return to the family while I still drew breath. I’m glad you did.” The Nunh opened his eyes to watch the desert heat cause the wastes to shake and flicker. He was silent for a long moment, until his faint smile began to fade. “Listen. I’m… not stupid. I know how things operate in tribes. I know the rivalries that go on for the Nunh’s affection. And I know you didn’t just blow my mind because your mother convinced you to.” Vahli let his arms drop to his sides as he turned to face her. “You want something. Speak.”

Era pursed her lips as she stared into his eyes. He was a difficult man to read, not just by how he spoke, but how he carried himself as well; he can hide his emotions better than just about anyone and everyone she knows, and the prospect of trying to sidestep his demands with deception didn’t remotely feel like a good idea. Instead she chose honesty. For now.

“I want my father’s glaive.” She blurted out, noticing his eyes shimmer when he blinked.

“No.” Vahli’s face was as still as stone when he gave his answer, but his tone was firm and forceful. “Rarku’s glaive isn’t just a good weapon. It’s a symbol. An icon. The Nunh who wields it commands both the fear and respect he had when he was alive.” He turned back to gaze out the window. “Without the glaive the Drake Tribe will start getting ideas. We have enough enemies already.”

“In that case…” Era started, pausing to inhale sharply. “We need allies. My friends in Ul’dah can help us.”

Vahli grimaced when his gaze returned to her. “Outsiders.”

“They’re good people… and I’m sure they’ll be willing to help us.”

“The Zu do not negotiate with their prey.” He pushed off the window to walk toward the table, distractingly reminding her that they both were still completely naked. “We’ve hunted the halfmen and their wagons for decades. We don’t even speak their clumsy language. They want us dead and gone so they can plunder the dirt for their shiny rocks. We cannot rely on them for anything.”

Era pursed her lips when she hurried back over to his side, almost forgetting how much her entire body ached. “Ul’dah hates us… that’s true. Attacking their caravans hurts their profits… and also the whole… you know… outlawing slavery thing…”

“The Zu do not recognize their authority.” Vahli glowered, scratching at his chin. 

Era remained adamant. “Our ancestors traveled across the frozen sea to find a better life. When our tribe first settled here in Thanalan… we had to adapt to this unforgiving place in order to survive." Slowly she stepped in front of Vahli to keep his attention. "Our hunts used to wield ten times more meat than that giant boar. There may not be enough food to go around. The springs are shrinking… and the enemy gathers at our borders. This cycle can’t continue… is this really what you want for us?”

A low growl hummed from the back of his throat when he grimaced. “Of course not…”

“Gaining the trust of the Immortal Flames will be hard… it may not even happen in our lifetimes. But my friends can help us. We just need an emissary to keep in contact with them.” Era stood as tall as she could and swallowed dryly before adding, “I can do this.”

Vahli didn’t look so convinced. “My favorite wife, out there in the tribeless cities? No.” He turned his back to her as he made his way for the cloak her mother left for them. “It’s too dangerous. They will kill you if they know you’re Zu. Your place is here, birthing and raising children.” Era exhaled slowly and her ears flattened against her head; her pupils dilated and her tail bristled, and Vahli definitely noticed.

“I am Rarku’s firstborn daughter.” She pushed out the words through a trembling voice. “I didn’t just get his eyes and hair. His rage flows through my veins… his anger burns in my heart. After just six moons of training, I fought toe-to-toe with a hundred shelled men and won. Slaughtered an entire pirate crew by myself. Faced off against an unnatural monstrosity and killed it! Imagine what I’ll be capable of after a whole year of training. All that talent would be wasted sitting on my ass with a baby at my nipple.”

He pulled his cloak over his shoulders and adjusted his loincloth in silence. Era kept her mouth shut as she watched him get dressed, already pre-planning to answer what he might ask next. “If you’re as half as good on the battlefield as you are in the bedroom…” He left his sentence hanging while he turned to look at her again. “There is someone waiting for you in the tribeless cities, isn’t there? A lover? More than a casual fling?”

“There was only Tage. I went through hell to get him back… and when I failed… I went through hell again to avenge him.” Era slowly walked over to her own pile of spare clothes and began dressing herself as well, keeping her gaze to the floor. Better to lie to him now than wait until later; Vahli doesn’t know her signs yet. “I want to keep my family and my friends in my life. I may be a decent lay but I’m no mother. Not until I can get rid of this murderous hatred.”

“The tribe needs children. Our territory is too large and our forces too few… we’re spread out thin. But…” He let out a defeated sigh before continuing, “I can’t afford to let your skills go to waste. A deal then? A compromise?”

“I’m listening…”

“Your heart may belong to Tage, but your womb belongs to me.” Vahli puffed up his chest as he studied her closely. “I will let you attempt this ‘treaty’ with the tribeless cities, but you will drop whatever you are doing and return to us should we need your talent for bloodshed. After our enemies are culled and our allegiances cemented you and I will focus on childbearing. Understood?”

Her eyes lit up with a nod and a half smile. “Yes… I understand. Thank you Vahli.”

“You’re recognized as my wife and your status as tribekin has been restored. Seek out Elder Huuna. If anyone knows about you and your father’s rage and how to handle it, it’s her.” Vahli ran his hand down her shoulder and back as he walked past, heading for the exit.

Era remained silent and still. The Elders were a reclusive lot, and set in the old ways more than anyone else. Elder Huuna was especially strange. A cold shiver ran up her spine when she thought about that blind woman and her enigmatic methods. But what choice did she have? If she didn’t resolve her anger issues at least then she would only return to Ul’dah with little more than awkward shame and embarrassment. Without the glaive this entire trip would be more or less just a visit to speak with her mother at the cost of her dignity. No… her choice was more than clear.

With a sharp inhale and bated breath, Era stepped out of Vahli’s chambers and began making her way to the Elder’s tent on the other side of Valhaas Barrow.