#and she actually said something that was kind of encouraging towards Link and I was cheering

[skyward-floored]

okay I played hw all is right with the world again

[crazylittlejester]

I'd absolutely love to hear what you have to say about Time 🙃 /gen

And, I hope you are feeling well. I think you said you were dizzy? I hope that gets better 🫶

I’m feeling much better, thank you!! I hope you’re going good as well :)

Sorry this took me a whole day to type out, but I finished!! I got it!!

I have a lot more thoughts, I had to cut a lot for the sake of making it readable and not obnoxiously long so I really hope I still get my points across well 😭 , but here we go:

An Abridged Version of My Thoughts on Time (I’m Insane I’m Sorry):

Okay so I’m starting off this whole thing by saying that 100% of this is my opinion and the research I did was done specifically to back my stance (which does not make it canonical fact. You can do research to back any point. You can do research to argue against my point, even). This doesn’t make my perspective or interpretation of a character the correct one by any means, and this definitely leans towards how I personally characterize and view him and is biased in that way because I’m the one who wrote it. All of you are entitled to your own opinions, you don’t have to agree with or listen to a single thing I say. In fact if you do disagree I encourage you to reblog and share your OWN thoughts so I can read YOUR perspective! I like seeing opinions people have and I love to see how differently all of us can view the same character /gen. I just that ask if you do do this, that you be kind and respectful to myself and others :)

This entire yap, analysis, whatever you wanna call it, is my perspective on Time and my thoughts behind why I believe he acts the way he does. At some point in all this I’m specifically going to focus on how he’s acting at the end of the Dawn arc and in the more recent updates. However in order to talk about that I wanna go to the beginning and talk about his past, the environment he grew up in, his relationships with others, and how I believe that has shaped the way he functions as an adult. My apologies now for being insane, unfortunately I have no life and also a lot of thoughts, and full access to a college library full of case studies- My professors would be so proud… Hope y’all enjoy lmao

Loneliness and Isolation:

One of the first things I noticed when I started playing OOT was this divide between Link and the Kokiri. Despite the fact that none of them know he’s actually a hylian, the bullying and teasing and the way they treat him for not having a fairy feels as though they’re making him to be different from them. Even Saria and the Great Deku Tree speak to/about him in ways that make it seem that, even though they care about him, they do see him as different from the others. (Granted, Saria’s treatment of Link is likely fully an unintentional thing. She doesn’t mean to be cruel when she makes her comment about how after Link got his fairy he could be a real Kokiri because she is a child and probably didn’t think about how that would come off to a kid who’s been arguably treated as less than for not having a fairy this entire time. She’s probably aware of how upset he’s been, but they’re children and I doubt she realized her attempt at comfort potentially made Time feel worse. The Great Deku Tree, on the other hand, referring to him as ‘the boy without a fairy’ immediately makes it clear to us as the player that Link is different from the Kokiri. He knows Link is hylian, which is something the player, Link, and the Kokiri do not know at this point)

Not having a fairy like the others certainly separates Time from the Kokiri because having a fairy companion appears to be a huge deal, something everyone has in common except for him. While it isn’t really on the same scale, I imagine this feeling of not having something your friends do could be, to an extent, comparable to how it would feel if all your peers had cell phones or social media access and you did not. (BAD EXAMPLE I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.) The ability to consume media at such a fast pace and share jokes and trends with peers has become something to bond over, and being outside of that ‘world’ would leave someone to feel like they’re missing out on something they couldn’t possibly understand unless they get it for themselves. When your friends all have phones and you don’t, you have to sit there awkwardly when they all pull them out to text people or look things up, even if you’re doing something that doesn’t even require being on your phone, like going to the mall or hanging out. Sure they might show you a meme or two, but you can’t show them your memes, or share things and exist in the online world the way they do. Time could see and interact with the others’ fairies but he didn’t have that for himself, and I imagine it was probably hard for him to bond with the Kokiri because of it. Even if they were just playing a game or messing around and he wasn’t even being teased for not having a fairy of his own, those other fairies were right there as a constant reminder that Time didn’t have his own companion because he was, for a reason he couldn’t understand, different

Having played Skyward Sword and the beginning of Twilight Princess and seeing how both of those Links are treated by the people around them in comparison to how the Kokiri interact with Time, it feels safe to say there’s a good possibility he felt out of place and a little isolated by his own community. The way he was seemingly blamed for the death of the Great Deku Tree after finding out the life altering information that he is different probably did nothing but cause further divide between himself and the Kokiri in his mind, if not completely sever the connection he had between himself and that community

Do I think the Kokiri completely excluded him and intentionally tried to isolate him? No, I do not. However it’s clear that Saria was his best friend and the others weren’t always the nicest to him. It’s not too far a stretch to say he probably felt very lonely at times in his childhood, more so than the average kid

The theme of isolation and loneliness continues when the timeline shenanigans happen at the end of OOT and Time is now the only one who knows what happened to him. He has absolutely nothing to show for what he physically just went through and he can tell people about it all he wants but they’ll never understand because for them it simply never happened. Once again Time is isolated from this community he finds himself a part of because he’s different from them in a way they cannot relate to, driving a wedge between him and the rest of society. And Malon and Zelda are not people who would intentionally drive him further from feeling like he can belong, but they will forever be different from him in a way none of them now have the power to control. He formed relationships with them and with other people that were then erased. He knows a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore (in the timeline he continued to live in), and he’s alone in that. There IS no fix to that problem

Attachment Styles and Development

Relationships are crucial to child development and the connections formed when we’re young impact the way we create and view our relationships in adulthood. Peer relationships are just as important as parental ones because they play a different role. While your friends are the ones who have more of an impact on things like your music tastes, interests, and sense of identity/role within your group of peers, it’s your parents/caregivers who teach you right from wrong (often religion plays a part in that as well though not always), are responsible for feeding you and helping you learn new skills as a young child. Having a secure attachment and good relationship to caregivers when you’re young really impacts how you seek comfort as an adult and how you form relationships with others. Children whose parents or caregivers responded to their distress in unpredictable ways (by offering comfort sometimes and being unable to other at times, for an example) are less likely to seek out those figures for comfort or be soothed by them when the comfort is offered. I have no idea exactly how old Time was when he was placed with the Kokiri or what his mother was like, but I feel it’s fair to say the Great Deku Tree was probably the closest thing to a parental figure/caregiver (while he was living with the Kokiri) that he has any memory of. And I also feel it’s fair to say that as the stationary tree guardian of a bunch of immortal children, it was pretty impossible for him to support all of those kids’ emotional needs

Making this assumption based solely on Navi’s role in the story and what she does for us as players of the game: I feel like the fairy companions might almost be more of a parental/caregiver like figure to the Kokiri children than the Great Deku Tree is, simply because they’re able to be around them more. Navi helps Time (and the player) find things, gives clues, and helps the player with the game controls, so inside the actual game I think it’d be fair to say she (and other fairies) have more of a hands on role in guiding these children than the Great Deku Tree. And again, Time didn’t have that, not until his adventure started. He didn’t have a fairy companion while his friends and peers did, he was on his own. He wasn’t getting that potential comfort from a reliable caregiver the others were, which I believe can be partly responsible for how determined he is to solve his own issues. (Of course personality also has a play in things like this, and as we all know the hero’s spirit is incredibly fucking stubborn.) He was taught through the failures of the ‘adult’ figures in his life that the only one who’d be there to really comfort him was him

Identity and Relationships

Apart from feeling alone and not having the same types of companionship his peers did, I firmly believe Time seriously struggled with identity issues as well. Being told he wasn’t enough for the Master Sword yet, just to then be suddenly physically several years older and expected to operate as an adult despite having less than a decade of life experience, back to being shoved into the body of a child after living through horrors and accumulating scars that are now just gone doesn’t real make for the most confident, mentally stable of people. The message he most likely took from that was “You’re not enough as you are.”

He was a hero who saved a kingdom, then forgotten when everything was set back, and then abandoned by the one person (fairy) who went through it all with him after it was all done. If he’d felt alone or isolated in his youth before all that happened, I can’t imagine how overwhelming all those emotions were after all that. He needed Navi because she’s the only one who can really validate what he went through, she was the only one who could have understood him. She was a guardian and a friend and he couldn’t figure out why she left him, which must’ve just been absolutely devastating.

He was still just a kid, with no one to talk to about these issues. (Though he sort of works through some of them on his own through helping others in Majora’s Mask. Granted that left him with new issues even if it may have helped him work through a few old ones. I think there are quite a lot of similarities between Link and Skull Kid, but that’s a yap for another day.) I can imagine that both his identity and what he was supposed to do with himself were things he questioned constantly, and building relationships with people was probably very difficult for him when he hadn’t fully worked out himself. And he didn’t really have someone to comfort him or help him figure all that out

At a certain point, I think the feeling of being alone became almost a comfort to him. It was the most reliable thing he had, he could handle things on his own and that was something he knew for fact. He learned how to deal with his emotions and issues (maybe not in the healthiest of ways in his youth), and instead of being so suffocating, the isolation became something he could CONTROL. With all the instability throughout his childhood, the fact that he could reliably be on his own without dealing with the unpredictability of others was probably a relief. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving or getting hurt because he couldn’t protect them, but that didn’t really replace the feeling of loneliness so much as sloppily cover it up

Malon and the ranch are things that have been able to give him something he hadn’t had in years, which was stability and companionship. He’s been alone and isolated or dealing with loss his entire life, but she’s able to provide him with something steady, something safe to come back to. That’s been absolutely huge for him in regards to the healing process, because not only is it said in LU that she believes him completely, she’s literally his biggest supporter. And having a sturdy location and person to come back to at the end of whatever little trips he probably continued to go off to gave him comfort while still allowing him to keep that feeling of control over himself and his life. Sure not everything is perfect all the time and relationships are things that you have to put time, effort, and patience into, but he’s allowed to have his support and his much needed feeling of control over his life at the same time while living in that scenario. She loves him, she loves him very much and I have no doubt they worked together to get him to the place of comfort he’s at now. The panels from any of the ‘Malon’ posts are really the most relaxed we’ve seen Time for long stretches of time, it’s clear he’s been able to make a safe space for himself there

And now here’s the part where I actually talk about the recent comic update(s)!!!!!!!! (Yippee!!!)

Time is a very quiet, stoic character in LU especially when compared to the others, which are qualities that pull a lot from the hero’s shade. He’s the unofficial official leader, and he’s at a point in his life where he’s been able to work on himself and form healthy relationships (not perfect ones, but healthy ones built on communication which is clearly a struggle for him still but I cannot afford to get into that this post because that’s way too much. If y’all want a yap about that, ask me later). He puts a lot of stress and pressure onto himself, because he feels as though he’s responsible for these younger heroes, even though some of them have far more experience than he does

But in addition to this, he’s absolutely terrified of caring about people, and he’s not used to working with other people in this area of his life. Because no one sticks around, and if they do, what’s stopping the timeline from resetting somehow and taking their memory of him away? He no longer has the stability and comfort that comes with being alone because he’s forced to work with other people, other heroes who are equal to him in that regard, and people are unpredictable. And with unpredictability comes loss of control

Anger is an easier emotion for a child to process, and express themself through. This is why depression in children often manifests itself as anger. Children dealing with depression have a harder time managing and controlling their anger and can come off as snappier, inattentive, and reckless (obviously this is not the same case for every single child). While he certainly isn’t a child anymore in LU, I think Time is still someone who when overwhelmed is quick to anger, but this does not mean that he’s not kind. He’s incredibly kind and caring, and you can tell he loves everyone around him so deeply even though he’s probably a bit angry at himself for letting them all worm their way into his heart because he’s going to have to let them go some day. But still, some of that snappiness comes through even in his adult years and he’s a lot harsher with the others than I believe he intends to be. He’s not genuinely angry at them, he’s mad at the situation they’re in right now because he’s no longer responsible for just himself. He doesn’t have control anymore, and he’s probably back to feeling like a scared child who might be about to lose everyone again and he hates that

Twilight got hurt and he blames himself for it. He’s in an unfamiliar situation with people he cares a lot about who are all just as reckless and determined as he is, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself because in his mind if he lets something happen to one of these boys, that’s on him and he should’ve done better

Ough (A Continuation of ‘Isolation’)

In a way Time exists on a different level of the timeline. He retained memories of things that no longer exist, and he’s witnessed the rewritting of time over and over again. The timeline he was born in may no longer be the one he exists in, though it certainly branched from that original one. He has knowledge and memories of relationships that are real to only him in the timeline where he lives, and I would argue that because of this, he lives outside of society

Now this genuinely has nothing to do with anything I just wanna yap about something because The Voices, and it’s gonna be a fucking reach but if you’ve stayed this long you must find something appealing about my incoherent rambling so allow me to draw a genuinely insane comparison between Time and his existence in society and ‘The Lady of Shallot’, written in 1832 by a poet by the name of Alfred Tennyson. If you have no idea what this is, it’s incredibly short and easy to find with a quick google search, and I encourage you to read it. But for those of you who didn’t sign up for a poetry assignment today I’ll summarize

The Lady of Shallot is cursed to stay in a tower away from the rest of society and she’s unable to look upon Camelot with her own eyes, because something bad will happen if she does though she has no idea what. Day after day she creates these tapestries of what she sees of the society behind her through a mirror. She’s unable to look at it with her own eyes so what she creates is unable to perfectly reflect what it is the world has to offer. And she’s absolutely sick of it, she sees happy people wandering down below, knights riding through, she sees through her mirror what life is like for those within society and she wants to join them. She sees a beautiful man one day (Lancelot) and decides the curse is worth it, just for a chance to leave her tower, so she turns around and sees Camelot with her own eyes. She leaves her tower and goes to join society but by the time she gets there she’s dead

Now one of the meanings hidden within this is how artists are almost outside of society and that is how they are able to so accurately depict it, and that joining society and being ‘normal’ would make them unable to keep their unique perspective that isolation provides. But I’m going to be crazy here and draw parallels to a video game character because I CAN

Time exists outside of society and is isolated from every community he tries to be a part of because the differences between him and the Kokiri/normal hylian are so significant he feels like he doesn’t belong there. Despite having built his sense of identity back up, he still, to an extent, feels like an outsider. The things he’s been through separate him from being able to just be a normal guy, and he craves so badly to be part of a community he’s almost convinced himself he CANNOT join. The chain (and Malon, but mainly the other heroes) help him have something to connect to, because while they may not have the exact same experience they understand him more than anyone else ever could. He then tries to join society, something happens, and he dies a warrior full of regrets

Is it a reach? Yeah. But I like the poem and I can’t stop thinking about the parallels (that I’ve probably completely fucking made up at this point) every time I think too long about Time and it makes me claw at the dry wall and scream. I’m so normal…

Anyways, *weak cough* thanks for reading, if you did. It means a lot that you’ve supported my insanity. I hope this is coherent-

Thanks Emmie for reading through this for me 😭, and special shoutout to every single one of you who sent me asks yesterday to remind me to write this I love you all sm actually:

@trash-aged-like-fine-wine @rebornofstars @blueskybehindtheclouds @captainn-hook @ghosttoasts

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

The fae come to our world to kidnap humanity and Feyre finds herself snatched up like all the others.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Sexual Coercion, Memory Manipulation, Murder, Attempted Suicide, Reproductive Coercion

Chapters: 1, 2

AO3 Link

☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾

Part Three

She thought about it constantly.

That drop.

Every day she circled back to it and stared out over the edge.

Wondering.

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Her dreams were filled with pleasure.

Or, at least, she thought they were dreams until she opened her eyes to see a familiar head of night-dark hair between her legs. Before she even had time to tense up she felt her body suddenly relax into her pillows again. Against her own volition.

None of that now. Rhysand’s voice scolded in her head. I was enjoying myself.

His tongue swiped languidly over her clitoris and Feyre couldn’t help the moan that escaped in response.

There we go. He purred. There’s my sweet girl.

She felt his thumbs smooth along her labia which had been spread apart like the flesh of some exotic fruit.

Or pinned like the wings of a butterfly.

At any other time she might’ve been able to ruminate over that particularly fitting metaphor but all she could do was pant as he sucked on her clit with the kind of single-minded ferocity that made her eyes cross.

That’s it my love, Rhysand encouraged as he slipped two fingers up into her fluttering cunt and curled them just so. I should wake you up this way every morning. Would you like that darling?

“Agh!” She agreed.

Now come for me.

She wasn’t sure if her body was just already there or if he’d done something to her brain to force it, but regardless the result was the same. Feyre’s legs snapped closed around his ears. Her back bent. A shocked sob slipped past her lips.

All the while she heard praise whispered into her mind.

Good girl.

Sweet girl.

You’re so soft for me here.

I love the way you taste.

Pleasure and ecstasy warred with her guilt and shame. She shouldn’t enjoy this. She didn’t want to enjoy this. But she did.

Did that make her a bad person?

Here she was fed (overindulged) and protected (caged) and getting eaten out by a beautiful (yet terrifying) man while her sisters were god knew where. Did Nesta ever find more food after Feyre had been taken? Was Elain safe, even after that strange man had stolen her away?

Feyre watched him lick the taste of her off his teeth as his pleased grin slipped into an annoyed frown. Too late, she realized he didn’t like it when she thought of her family. Of anyone other than him.

As Nesta might’ve once said, she was killing the vibe.

He loomed over her like a storm cloud blocking out the sun.

“No more of that I think,” he said.

And then she felt those claws grip her mind and then-

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The first time Feyre finally had a real visitor (that she wasn’t expected to immediately slit the throat of), she didn’t even notice him.

He was just so…quiet.

Rhysand had been gone for so long that day that the sun had actually fully set. But, just before she had a chance to really take advantage of that fact, a voice called out to her from a shadowy corner.

“High Lady.”

Feyre nearly bit through her tongue with surprise. She spun around…only to be greeted by the sight of a demon.

She screamed.

Quick as lightning, she snatched up a nearby candlestick and swung it threateningly. But the demon only lifted his hands placatingly, as if she were a wild animal. Behind him great brown-black wings, like those of a bat, snapped in tight towards his body.

Wings. He had wings.

Feyre stared.

“I am sorry to disturb you,” the demon said quietly. “My Lord sends his apologies. He is somewhat detained tonight. But shall return as soon as he can.”

Feyre just stared at the man.

“And you’re…what? His messenger? My babysitter?”

The strange man cocked his head like an animal.

“Baby…sitter?” He seemed wholly confused by the term. Did they not have babysitters…wherever this was?

“Did he send you here to watch over me like a child?” She clarified.

“Ah.” He said, not answering the question. Instead, he introduced himself with a deferential bow.

“I am Azriel.”

“I don’t care who you are,” Feyre spat, grip tightening on her candlestick. And she didn’t. Curious though she might be, this man was clearly still Rhysand’s creature, and she didn’t dare trust anyone sent by him.

“I am only here to relay the High Lord’s message. And to ensure your safety until he returns.”

Definitely a babysitter then.

That prick.

She huffed in exasperation and then, because she was petty, tossed the candlestick onto the floor. She hoped it left a dent in Rhysand’s precious fucking marble tiles. 

“Whatever.”

She tried to ignore him for the rest of the night.

Azriel was a courteous babysitter, she’d give him that. He mostly stayed out of her way and lingered at the edge of every room. Watchful, but in an unobtrusive way. Eventually though, she grew weary of just having someone standing there like a statue while she tried to pretend he wasn’t there. It felt…rude.

“Why did he take me?”

Azriel didn’t seem surprised that she had bothered to finally speak to him. Just…confused. As if he were used to being ignored.

“Pardon?”

“Why did Rhysand take me. Why not someone else? Surely there were plenty of other women he could’ve taken. Prettier ones. Women who would’ve been happy to have him. Why me?”

Azriel looked at her strangely, as if the answer were obvious.

“Because you’re his mate.”

Mate? What the fuck was a mate?

“What the fuck does that mean?”

If he was bothered by her harsh language, he didn’t show it. “That you are his partner. Destined by fate to live by his side. It is a rare gift. One we all hope for.”

“Well I don’t like this gift,” Feyre grimaced. “I’d like to give it back.”

“You can’t. A mating bond is sacred. Unbreakable. Once it is accepted it cannot be undone.”

Those words chilled her straight to the bone.

Unbreakable.

Would she never be free of him? What would happen if she escaped? Would she still be stuck with Rhysand even then?

“Well I don’t want it!” She snapped, trying to beat back her rising panic. “I want to go home!”

“Why ever would you want to go back?” He asked, confused. “You are the mate of the most powerful High Lord in history. You are High Lady of the Night Court. You have only to ask for something and it will be yours.”

“Anything but freedom.”

He gave her a look that reminded her of the one her exasperated mother would give her when Feyre had said something particularly naive.

“You’re human.”

And? She wanted to say, but didn’t bother. She knew he wasn’t truly listening to her.

“It’s not safe for you out there,” he continued. They felt like practiced words. Words he’d been coached to say.

Rhysand’s words.

“I survived just fine on my own before.”

This wasn’t strictly true but he didn’t have to know that.

He smiled gently at her. There was that condescending parental look again.

She hated it.

Feyre decided she was done with this conversation.

“I’m your High Lady?” She verified. “I can ask for anything?”

Azriel smiled. “Of course.”

“Then get out.”

He bowed to her. “High Lady.”

Then he faded into the shadows.

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She was forgetting things.

She wasn’t sure when it started. She only knew when she’d noticed it.

The lack.

Like an empty space where something clearly was supposed to be. Like a discolored wall where a picture frame had once hung.

Had she truly been here so long that she had forgotten the color of her sister’s eyes? The smell of her father’s cologne? The taste of Elain’s chocolate chip cookies? She felt…broken. Like so many pieces of herself had gone missing. Scattered into the ether where she could not reach.

And she knew only one person capable of such a thing.

“What have you done to me?” She whispered to Rhysand one night.

Because it could have only been him. Who else saw her every day? Who else had the power to manipulate her like a doll?

He had stolen her mind.

And she wanted it back.

“You stubborn little thing,” he murmured, as if were scolding a kitten. He ran his fingers through her hair. Softly. Gently. “I only take what you can’t bear. You’re so much happier without them.”

His confirmation shook her down to her bones. “But…but…they’re mine!”

Rhysand sighed. “Must we have this argument every time?”

Every…every time?

Feyre’s eyes widened.

This had happened before.

“No…”

But it was already too late. Something dark and cold slithered into her mind and wrapped itself around her thoughts like a snake.

“No-” she began again.

“It’s for the best my love,” Rhysand sighed sweetly.

And then this memory too was taken from her.

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Rescue came when she least expected it.

Rhysand was away, as he always was during the day, and Feyre was busy tracing the grain along the wooden dining table. Normally she would’ve been off continuing her crusade to find a way out of this place but today she just…couldn’t. It all felt so hopeless. What was the point when the sun would inevitably go down? When she failed in her endeavor? When Rhysand would appear to subject her to another night of murder and forced pleasure?

She was just so…tired.

So imagine her surprise when a strange new man suddenly staggered into the room.

Feyre blinked.

He looked a bit like Rhysand, with those strange pointed ears and otherworldly beauty. But whereas Rhysand was more refined, with a malicious edge to his looks, like a jungle cat, this man was more like a wolf. Rugged and wild.

The two stared at each other for what could have only been a moment, but which seemed to stretch on into eternity for Feyre.

Someone was here. Someone who wasn’t Rhysand. Or his demon errand boy Azriel. Someone who…had gotten in. Someone who must’ve found a door.

A way out.

“Come with me!” The man said hurriedly. “Please, we must be quick! He could return at any moment!”

Feyre stared at the outstretched hand, confused. Suspicious. But most importantly…

Hopeful.

“…Who…are you…?”

“There’s no time!” He said desperately. “I’ve come to help you escape! Please!”

“…Escape?” The word sounded almost foreign on her tongue. She’d nearly forgotten what it even sounded like out loud.

But the man either didn’t have the time or the patience to wait for her mind to catch up and crossed the room in three long strides to yank her up by her arm.

“Wait!” She cried, but he was already pulling her forward and out into the hallway.

“I’ll explain when we get out of here,” he said.

He never got the chance.

A sound like thunder crashed through the palace and darkness swept through, blinding them both.

Feyre didn’t even time to cry out before she was wrenched away and enveloped in a chillingly familiar embrace.

Don’t worry. I have you my love.

That was what she was afraid of.

“You have something that belongs to me, thief.” Rhysand’s voice was low and dangerous. So unlike the playful cadence he usually used with her.

She shivered.

Somewhere in the darkness, she heard her would-be rescuer cry out.

Rhysand clucked his tongue mockingly.

“I’m impressed you made it this far. Perhaps you might enlighten me as to who it was who let you in?”

The only reply was a pained gasp.

“Oh come now.” He continued easily, as if he were coaxing gossip from a friend over tea. “You and I both know you couldn’t have gotten past the wards yourself.”

A scream.

“Who was it?”

The darkness parted then, like smoke dissapating. The man was…fine. He kneeled on the ground, not so much as a scratch on him. And yet he was panting as if he had run a marathon. And his eyes were wide. Wild.

Tortured.

“Ah. Keir. Of course,” Rhysand said the name with the kind of annoyed derision someone would reserve for a particularly exasperating neighbor. “I’ll be sure to deal with him in due time.”

“Keir…” Feyre whispered. Who was Keir? And why were they trying to help her escape?

Shhhhh, quiet now my love.

Her brain went blank. The name disappearing through her fingers as easily as a handful of sand.

He turned his attention back to the intruder.

“I would have liked to spend some more time with you. Draw this out a bit more,” he said with a sigh.  “Alas. We wouldn’t want to upset my sweet little mate.”

Feyre had only a moment to see a look of relief cross the man’s face before the room suddenly exploded into a haze of…red. She stared uncomprehendingly down at the place where he had been. One moment he had been there and then the next there was only a puddle of red soaking into the cracks between the tiles.

“What…?” She said dumbly. Her brain tried to reconcile the strange man who had so suddenly entered her life with the now sticky wet stain on the ground and just…couldn’t.

Rhysand turned to her then. His eyes blazed bright and angry.

She recoiled.

But just as quickly, her fear was forcibly wiped away.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, barely leashed fury bubbling just under the surface.

She felt those mental talons of his reach into her head to see for himself. As if he didn’t trust that she would tell him the truth. For several agonizing moments she stood there, shivering and terrified as he sifted through her memory of the last twenty minutes, before he withdrew from her mind, satisfied with whatever he had found.

He wrapped his arms around her gently, consolingly, and tucked her under his chin. Who it was he was truly trying to soothe however, her or himself, was anyone’s guess.

“I will never let anyone take you from me. I will keep you safe my love.” His grip was just that bit too tight. Possessive. As if terrified the man would appear once more to tear her away from him.

But safe from who? She wondered. Who keeps me safe from you?

He fucked her hard that night.

Rhysand seemed desperate to reassert his claim over her. Sucking bruises into her flesh and smearing his release into her skin. And all the while, burrowing himself ever deeper into her mind, as if by doing so he could imprint himself into her permanently.

“You are mine!” He snarled. “Mine!”

And she could only nod in response, even if she didn’t want to. Because it was true.

She was his.

And that thought terrified her.

And later, in the darkness of the night, long after Rhysand has exhausted himself into a deep sleep, Feyre lay awake, her mind spinning.

Had that man truly been there to save her? Had she truly been so close to freedom? To going home? But more importantly…did it even matter? He had failed. She remained as ever resolutely locked in his orbit as she had been since her first day here. Perhaps it was better she didn’t know.

And yet…she couldn’t stop thinking about it, long into the night.

☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾

It was little things at first.

The way her ears began to catch the sound of Rhysand’s footsteps down the hall even though he usually tread too softly for her to hear. Or the way her food began to taste…different. Better. Or the way her eyes were quicker to notice little details she would’ve missed before. The veins of a flower petal. The weave of a rug. There was clearly something…off about her. Something not right.

And then, of all things, it was a shattered vase that clued her in to what was happening to her.

She didn’t know why she’d been holding it. Perhaps she’d lifted it up to stare at the intricate craftsmanship or to disparage the utter ostentatious display of wealth but either way, the outcome was the same.

“Hello my love.” Rhysand greeted her as he always did at the end of a day.

A deafening crack resounded through the room before the sound of pottery shattering onto the floor followed.

Feyre stared at the broken shards uncomprehendingly.

Gently, Rhysand gripped her hands and ever so slowly pried her fingers off of the remaining shards. He inspected her hands, diligently looking for any cuts….but there were none.

There were none.

She had shattered a vase with her bare hands and there wasn’t so much as a scratch on her. But…how? She had barely even touched the thing!

“Very good. It looks like all that blood has finally done you some good.”

He sounded…pleased. As if this were expected. Hoped for even.

“Blood…?” Feyre whispered.

“As I said, my love. To make you strong.”

At first she didn’t understand. She couldn’t remember why those words were so familiar…and then it hit her all at once.

And she knew.

The nightly sacrifices.

The blood he forced her to drink from her dying victims.

This was…he was…!

“Now nothing can take you from me,” Rhysand said triumphantly as he pulled her head back to look into his eyes. They were wild. Exultant. As if, at least, he had finally gotten everything he had ever wanted. “Not assassins creeping about. Not sickness. Not age. You are mine. Forever.”

Not age.

Forever.

Horror washed over her then.

“No…”

“Yes,” he insisted.

And then he kissed her. And Feyre knew nothing but despair.

☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾

She waits until he leaves the next morning.

Rhysand had been so pleased the night before. So entirely wrapped up in his own mad self congratulations that he hadn’t even noticed her careful planning. Had instead fucked her like it was his birthday and then left in the early hours of the morning as he always did.

And then Feyre waited until the sun was high in the sky before she got out of bed and made her way down the hall. She had to be very sure, you see, that he was truly gone.

She couldn’t risk him intervening.

As if summoned by the thought of him, she heard his voice whisper through her head.

Where are you going my love?

She didn’t answer.

Only walked faster.

The balcony, the same one she had made her bargain in, loomed large at the end of the hall. She spied the gauzy curtains fluttering in the late morning breeze, beckoning invitingly. As if they knew why she had come.

Need some fresh air my darling? Rhysand’s voice asked amusedly.

Feyre passed through the open archway and stopped to stare at the beautiful landscape below.

It truly was beautiful. This view.

It comforted her to think the last thing she saw would be something beautiful.

Rhysand’s amusement quickly turned to horror the moment he realized what she intended.

NO!

She had just been about to tip herself over the stone bannister when a hand appeared out of nowhere to snatch her back.

Feyre struggled.

“No! Let me go! Just let me die!” She sobbed, hysterical.

Instead, two arms wrapped around her chest and clutched her tight, pulling her back inside. Feyre saw the balcony doors snap shut by themselves, locking her in.

He didn’t even give her time to despair over her failure before his mind was cleaving into hers like a scalpel. Precise and deadly and too quick for her to feel any pain. He found her despair, her desire for death, and quickly cut it out. Excising it from her mind like a cancerous growth.

You will never do that again. Rhysand’s voice growled through her mind like thunder. I forbid you to harm yourself. In any way.

His hands were ever so gentle now, turning her in his arms and smoothing over her face with a desperation that would’ve scared her if her entire brain weren’t numb from his sudden intrusion.

She felt woozy. Tired.

It was only when Rhysand swept her into his arms and carried her to bed that she realized that he was the reason why she was so sleepy. She should’ve been wired with adrenaline. Instead, she could barely keep her eyes open as she was bundled into bed like an unruly child.

“You can’t keep me like this forever,” Feyre whispered from her nest of blankets.

“Oh, I assure you, I can.” Rhysand said gently but vehemently. He was trying to come across as his usual aggravating self but she wasn’t fooled. This had rattled him. Clearly the one thing he’d never planned for in his scheme was for her to just…give up.

He kissed each of her eyelids ever so sweetly.

“Sleep.”

It wasn’t a request.

She slept. And there were no dreams.

☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾

He rarely left her side now.

On the rare occasion he was needed elsewhere, Rhysand kept her docile. Barely conscious enough to get out of bed, let alone to go wandering off towards the nearest available window. Not that it would’ve mattered if she had. Feyre soon discovered that he had put some sort of invisible wall around all the windows and balconies. The cutlery that came with her meals had also mysteriously gone missing. She was only fed finger food now. And only at Rhysand’s hand.

“Eat my love,” he said to her on one such occasion, holding a berry to her lips.

Her mouth opened at his command, even though her stomach roiled in displeasure. This was how it was now. She so rarely was allowed control over her own body. Her own mind.

He was too terrified of what she would do otherwise.

Outside, a thunderstorm rolled in, pelting the windows with rain and sleet. Feyre tried to remember what the rain felt like on her cheeks, but like so many memories these days, she couldn’t quite grasp it anymore.

“I can’t remember what they look like,” she whispered, her voice empty of its usual emotion. 

“Who?”

“My sisters.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Rhysand said placatingly as he tried to stuff another blackberry in her mouth. She chewed dutifully but then continued.

“You’re taking them all. My memories,” she said softly. It wasn’t an accusation so much as a fact. As if she were reciting the weather forecast. Something that just…was.

Rhys said nothing. He seemed…almost concerned.

“What happens when you take them all? Will there be any of me left?”

“Hush now,” he said. He set the berries aside and lifted her into his arms like she were a child that just needed soothing. “Enough of that.”

“I’m tired,” she murmured.

“Sleep then,” he agreed.

Though they both knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾✦☽☾

It took a very long time to get her back the way he wanted her.

Years.

But he was rather pleased with the results. Still, occasionally he’ll find her old self poking through. Just a bit. Just enough to leave him wondering if he’d missed something.

Today was one such day.

She was staring at the door again.

The door.

The way out. The one he had glamoured the moment he had brought her to this place. Even after stealing her memories, he still found her here sometimes. Staring blankly at the door. As if she knew exactly what was there even though she couldn’t possibly.

He would know if she did, after all.

She was so stubborn, his little mate. Even after all this time, after all the memories he had stripped away and sealed inside his own mind for safe keeping, she still held onto that tenacious little shred of herself that he both loved and hated in equal measure.

He sighed.

“Come along Darling,” he said gently, taking ahold of her arm and steering her towards the dining room. “It’s time for dinner.”

“Already?” She pouted.

“Oh yes,” he smiled. “We have to fatten you up.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I suppose you’re right. I am eating for two after all.”

[holocene-sims]

🥧👻🦃

thank you so much for the ask!! ❤️

🥧 Pie: Which of your characters takes care of the others around them? How do they take care of themselves?

tbh the very nice thing, i think, about my cast of characters is that most of them are very kind and caring towards others; it's rarer to find cold/uncaring characters.

however (and i know this is the obvious answer), grant is one of the most caring and generous of them all. by default, his primary method of caring is acts of service, aka making himself of use to someone. do you need someone to make you soup when you're sick, be your shoulder to cry on when you're having a shit day, or come pick you up when your car breaks down? he's your guy!

he's not super good at taking care of himself, though. lmao. but he's trying! his current method of taking care of himself is to actually heal his trauma. also, on a smaller note, he is a huge fan of a nice skincare routine and cooking a good meal, so that's one of his practical methods of cheering himself up.

btw aoife is exactly the same as him, let's be real

👻 Ghost: Do you have a character or a scene that continues to haunt you? Something or someone you wish you had done differently or just can’t stop thinking about?

automatically, there are two scenes that come to mind, and they were both some of the biggest scenes in the story thus far, so i think my unhappiness with them comes from the fact that this is a sims story and i have to take the fully developed movie from my brain and convert it into pictures and text, and it doesn't match up. no matter how aesthetic i make it or how many song links i add to make it more like the movie in my head, it never feels just right.

ANYWAY

that said, the first scene is the end of the bachelor party scenes where grant is like blackout drunk and hallucinating/dreaming in 2x speed about his history with addiction, and even though he is engaging with addiction in that moment, he's traumatized by it. i think it all played out well as a whole BUT the flashback scenes did not feel dynamic to me, and that's what they should have been. i wanted it to feel like you're dragged along through that hell and chaos with him, and like you're experiencing the same oppression from substances and the people who encouraged it, and it just didn't because it was made out of stationary pictures. also, i hate using poses for more than two sims, so the party pics were bland.

the other scene is really just the end of the ireland trip where you learn a lot more about aoife's backstory. i didn't get to spend as much time with those parts because i was quite literally in the middle of working on them when i got the call my grandma died, so i abandoned them for a hot minute, and when i came back, i wanted so badly to be DONE with all that content because it took on some bad associations for me and i couldn't think much about it.

i do think it came out okay but i would have added a couple other scenes expanding on things there instead of pushing it off to another set of scenes. like i would have had a conversation there where someone tangibly discusses what aoife's parents were really like, and i would have expanded on that contrast of aoife the real person and aoife the embodiment of everyone else's desires because she's supposed to be a representation of a specific female archetype in art (medea/cathleen ni houlihan/aoife nic mhurchada - a category of women who've lost agency and/or everything they've ever known, and have endured things like forced marriage/love or symbolize stuff like someone else's freedom, etc.)

i did just kind of spoil aoife's design lmao but it doesn't matter anymore because the literature aspect is more of a fun fact and only relevant in one specific case (if you remember grant reading cathleen ni houlihan...) and i'll come back to it later, but if you read between the lines enough, you at least see there are two aoifes (so to speak.)

🦃 Turkey: What’s the most abundant burst of inspiration you’ve ever had? Were you able to translate that into writing?

hmm this is an interesting question! i'd say one of the most abundant inspo moments i've had was when @crazykissim and i decided on grant's future love interest 👀 i obviously can't share too much because it's a huge spoiler rn but i've had so much fun constructing the romance aspect into the story, putting twists on classic romance tropes, and developing an interesting personality and history for [REDACTED]. i've even built MULTIPLE lots for the romance arc. you know i'm serious when i build lmaooooo

it is translated into writing, though! the final versions of everything aren't quite done but i do have drafts ready and a full timeline set in stone :)

[dearweirdme]

Hi :)

I’ve watched a few of Taes videos about him explaining his album and what I found interesting was that he said he’s plans changed for his original album. That makes me think the whole Taennie thing was also for his promotions too but since it changed last December, there was no need for him to be connected with her again. Thats why he wasn’t connected to her since late of last year. The Paris walk thing seemed so forced and fast especially right before the release of her show. It seems like Jennie’s company asked Tae for one last cover up before letting it go. Since the Paris walk thing, he’s been distant and Jennie has been doing the most work. Which is why we all thought that it was only for her.

I think the original album that he was working on got postponed and it seems like it was a grand project. I’m sure he would’ve promoted big time like Jungkook and Jimin in US. In that original plan it would make sense for him to be connected to Jennie since she was already in the West for Idol show and it would’ve made a powerful impact. But since his plans changed and idol was a disaster he wants nothing to do with it anymore.

That’s why he kept this album short and low key and doesn’t care much about it being on the charts and all. It was just a filler or experiment for now. What do you think?

Hi anon!

I think I’ve kinda settled on the following as to how everything fits together.

Tae accidentally followed Jennie, which gave some people the idea to use him and Jennie dor some kind of powerplay towards Bighit/YG. I have not ruled out the companies being involved (I think at least staff from Jennie’s side was) but it wasn’t necessarily promo for Tae back then. Bighit basically denied those pictures being them by calling it ‘defamation’. But the rumor was spread widely enough to not go away.

Tae talked quite about about his song making process, and I tend to think he is truthful about not being satisfied and wanting different things constantly. It fits what we have heard before. I don’t know what the actual reason of him not releasing the album in December was, but.. it being a completely different one now is curious. The thing I find hard to deduce is how finished the initial album was. Was it set to go? Did Tae pull the plug? Was it the company? I am still guessing at all of this a lot. But Tae makes it come across like he wanted something else, he contacted Min Hee-jin, they clicked. He received songs and picked the ones he felt suited him best. And.. ideas about his mv’s formed. So at that point, the queercoded-ness would also have become apparent.

That is when I feel the Taennie walk was introduced. The timing was perfect for both Jennie and Tae’s ‘needs’. It was quick and simple and the had an already established rumor to go from. Imagine the Taennie walk without Gurumi’s work beforehand for a second. Would it have had the same impact? I think not. I think it would have been denied as ‘not being them’ way more.

After the Taennie walk Tae did absolutely nothing that links him to Jennie in any way. He even untagged Taennies. He is quite obviously happy as well. Jennie took it a bit further (I think encouraged by YG) by posting those pics on her Instagram. But she now also seems to not play any longer.

I think Tae is happy with what he put out, but I also think it’s clear he sees this as an actual layover. It not being his own songs does make me think he didn’t want those connected to her at times, but I am not entirely sure that is part of the reason why we got this album. I believe Tae when he says he wants this album and the promo to reflect him. I’ve at times wondered if Tae was comfortable with showhosts like James Cordon etc. I think he actually does prefer it like this. I know doing promo abroad is part of their jobs and they are used to it, but I can very much understand why Tae, who has felt weird too often, would want to be as comfortable as he can be for once.

[unboundtravels]

"How dare you imply such a thing." He says in a deadpan tone, but very clearly joking. He's just sarcastically brushing such an accusation aside. No, no. He's wearing the glasses out of necessity. Of course, he hasn't taken a shine to them, no. Absolutely not. "Obviously they've got tiny microcomputers in their lenses." He obviously lies, but the deadpan tone adds to his old-man humor, "They help me cheat at crosswords." He mumbles before squinting whilst filling in S-H-I-B-A. The Doctor widened his eyes at the next couple of puzzles as Charlie continued speaking. He spoke like an upper-class wine mother in her late 60s, but he also seemed to channel it through the voice of what sounded like a thespian losing his battle with father time. The Doctor looked young in this body, but it was clearer more than ever.

He was starting to get old. Very old​​​​​​. 

He spoke to Charlie now, wearing his age on his sleeve by demonstrating how deep of a people reader he was. The familial link he felt with the younger woman across from him allowed him to read between the invisible subtext of what she was saying, all without looking up from his crossword. "Don't be ridiculous, Charlie." He said, almost deadpan again, but also speaking as if the revelations he was about to make were relatively obvious, "You don't want a pet. You want little tiny humans." He finally looks up from the crossword, giving her a teasing smirk before looking down at his puzzle, chewing on the end of his pen.

"Ah... tolerate swimming in sea that tastes of tarragon..." He mumbled the puzzle aloud, before making a barely surprised face, "Good grief," He stated as if it was barely a struggle, "Couldn't possibly be Clive Weatherley."He filled in the answer, revealing to the younger woman— as if his crossword puzzle was the highlight of the afternoon, "I've moved on from the warm-up puzzles... Now they're asking me to name poets." He informed her, while still speaking in that bored deadpan voice he'd been pouring false enthusiasm into. It's sassy. The Doctor is sassy. He pushed his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose and hummed very quietly.

"Have either of you talked about your future, yet?" He suddenly spoke, "I promise I've not spied." He teased in an unconvincing tone on purpose, the humorous version of the statement bolstering validity. He really hadn't spied on Charlie and her partner in the future, so the question came from a place of genuine curiosity toward what Charlie might do from here on out. "If you get tired of this planet—" He referred to Earth, "Then I guarantee you I can find you a better one~" He spoke as if he was a bored salesman cranking out a pitch to an unconvinced customer, but he did mean his feelings genuinely, "Best kind of fresh start." 

And just like there was with Charlie, there was something about her boyfriend that reminded him of feelings from long before. However, there was something much older in that expression. Something that brought up memories of a life-long past and a family who'd all long since found their ways back home. Just him, now. Always him. He carries the memories. He's since adjusted to the presence of Charlie's boyfriend, their face and their expression... and the way he talked. The Doctor could separate those feelings and memories from what was actually there. And yet still...

He never really has been inside her house before, has he? The Doctor. He'd seemed to just pop in whenever she was out of the house, or he'd call ahead of time and give her an advanced warning that he'd be around to pick her up. It helped him avoid small talk, which he felt would be unpleasent when he often had to deal with the resurfacing of unpleasant and somber memories. Charlie brought him comfort. But there was something about her boyfriend that brought him memories of shame and guilt, so he preferred not to acknowledge it at all. Meanwhile, he would engage in conversation about the two to Charlie, and at the very least— encourage her to be with him, so there was no kind of impression that he hated her boyfriend, at all. The Doctor just felt that in this tact... distance was better.

At least for now.

"No, no." He handwaved the offer away for another planet, "No, at this point, you two should just get married, I think. Stop horsing around, tie the knot." He raised his eyebrows, "You're young before your old, as I always say. Quick before you're slow." He pointed the pen, "And you both seem ready to slow down, together."

she had never believed in past lives. the sheer thought of it seemed absurd & unfathomable; once you died, it was your end. and perhaps, that was a good thing. the young woman could not imagine a life plagued by an eternal existence, thrashing against your own immortality whilst you were doomed to witness how the life faded of those that you loved. the mental image of her current partner flashed before her eyes & her hand immediately tightened the grip upon the handle of her cup; imagining to stay within this shell whilst he withered away, unable to do anything. horrible. alas, that is probably how her former self felt like. there was barely a connection to the person she once was except for her love for plants & flowers & the intense pull she had felt towards her family's heirloom; but except for that, she still could not imagine having lived before. how strange.

ocean blue eyes would focus upon the older male in front of her, curiosity glinting within them. would he perhaps have any feelings on the matter? there were many things that the doctor was & many things that he wasn't. he wasn't like her & that a positive force within their relationship. the doctor grounded the young woman, even if one would probably think the opposite considering how he clad himself. every color of the rainbow embraced him whilst they took off to yet another adventure into distant realms or . . . a city in greece within the summer. they came & went as they pleased & it filled the woman's heart with a warmth that almost felt familiar. as if she had done this before. as if she stepped foot into the TARDIS before. as if she had been a long lost companion. and the doctor . . . well, it felt as if she known his soul a long time ago.

the brunette would set her teacup down, crossing one leg over the other whilst a pensive hum escaped from her lips. "hm . . . " it were times like these that she enjoyed the most between them. "should be shiba, right?" cue the snapping of her fingers in triumph whilst an elated smile manifested upon her lips. she leaned back against her chair, adjusting the small purse that had been hanging from the armrest whilst digging out her cellular device from within. "i see that you've given in to wearin' the reading glasses i bought you! hehe! " charlie chuckled with a mischievous glint coloring her features whilst she typed away into her phone. "also, on the topic of dog, i've been thinkin' of gettin' one! it sometimes gets lonely in the shop when the boyfriend's out and you're not there . . . " a small pout was visible, bottom lip slightly pushed out before she put her phone back on the table. "i might adopt one, you know! what do you think? or are you more of a cat person?"

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Bond Between Us ~ 41

THE BOND BETWEEN US MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,000ish

Summary: Your world begins to fall apart.

Warnings: death, violence (canon level), injuries

Notes: good luck. Please share your reactions! MAKE SURE THAT YOU HAVE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER!! The chapters came out so close together (literal minutes), so make sure you actually read it.

You hadn’t been up in your star cruiser long before Obi-Wan joined you in on a call with Ahsoka, Rex, and Bo-Katan. Obi-Wan wanted to see how the capture of Maul was going.

“There are a small number of firefights still happening in sector 11,” Bo-Katan explained. “But for the most part, your clones have been as effective as promised. Still, without Maul in custody, this could all fall apart quickly. We must capture him before he escapes.”

“He mentioned a name,” Ahsoka said. “Darth Sidious.”

“Who is this Sidious?” Bo-Katan asked.

You and Obi-Wan shared a glance before he responded, “I do not know much, but I will share with you what the Council suspects... Darth Sidious is the Sith Lord who orchestrated the clone wars and played both sides of it from the beginning. I first learned the name from Count Dooku, though any chance of learning more about Sidious from Dooku has been lost.”

“Why?” Wondered Ahsoka.

“Because Count Dooku is dead,” you stated. “Anakin killed him while rescuing the Chancellor.” Ahsoka looked surprised.

“With Dooku gone, we’ve lost a vital link to understanding the mystery of Darth Sidious,” Obi-Wan said. “If you can capture Maul, he may be able to provide the missing pieces to this puzzle.”

“Then send me more men,” Ahsoka requested.

“Unfortunately, we cannot. I’m being sent to hunt down General Grievous on Utapau.”

“And I have been asked by the Council to remain above Coruscant until further instructions,” you added.

“What about Anakin?” Ahsoka asked. “Maybe he can reinforce us?”

“May we speak to Ahsoka alone for a moment?” Obi-Wan asked. Rex and Bo-Katan left together, leaving you and Obi-Wan alone with Ahsoka. “Anakin is on a special assignment by order of the Jedi Council.”

“What kind of assignment?”

Obi-Wan glanced at you. You encouraged him to continue with a nod. “He has been instructed to observe the Chancellor and report his findings.”

“Observe? You mean spy. They told him to spy on the Supreme Chancellor? Why?”

“The Senate has allowed the Supreme Chancellor to remain in office long after his term has expired. The Council wants to know what his true intentions are.”

“You cannot tell me, Ahsoka, that you have not felt something off about the Chancellor,” you said.

Ahsoka ignored you. “The Chancellor has been a great friend and mentor to Anakin,” she said. “I can’t imagine he is happy about this.”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, “he is not. So perhaps it’s best that you do speak with him.”

“And what? Defend the Council’s actions? I hardly think I’m the best person for that.”

“Ahsoka, the Council isn’t always right. That’s why I’m asking for your help.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rex said, rushing back into the room, “there’s been an attack.”

“You better go,” you told Ahsoka.

Ahsoka moved toward Rex before turning around. “Tell Anakin…” her voice trailed off.

“I will,” Obi-Wan responded knowingly.

~~~

You had been chatting with Commander Crak, keeping your mind off of Obi-Wan, when another clone told you that the Council was on the line. When you walked into the room, you were greeted by holograms of Windu, Yoda, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Anakin, and Aayla Secura. As you walked closer to the hologram table, Commander Cody entered the transmission.

“Master Windu, may I interrupt?” Cody requested. “General Kenobi has made contact with General Grievous and we have begun our attack.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Windu said before Cody disappeared. “Anakin, deliver this report to the Chancellor. his reaction will give us a clue to his intentions.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin replied before taking his leave.

Once Anakin was gone, Windu continued, “I sense a plot to destroy the Jedi. The dark side of the Force surrounds the Chancellor.”

“If he does not give up his emergency powers after the destruction of Grievous, then he should be removed from office,” Ki-Adi-Mundi stated.

“The Jedi Council would have to take control of the Senate in order to secure a peaceful transition.”

Yoda shook his head, clearly not liking this as much as you did. “To a dark place this line of thought will carry us,” Yoda said. “Hmm… Great care we must take.” Suddenly, Ahsoka and Rex appeared.

“I understand your mission was a success,” Windu said to Ahsoka.

“You caught Maul?” You asked.

“Yes,” Ahsoka answered. “I have Maul in custody. I will escort Commander Rex when he delivers him to Coruscant.”

“A great service to the Republic you have done,” Yoda said.

“I did my duty as a citizen.”

“Not as a Jedi.” You were surprised to sense disappointment from Master Yoda.

“No. Not yet. Actually, I was hoping to speak with General Skywalker.”

“I sent him to inform the Chancellor that General Grievous has indeed been located on Utapau,” Windu responded.

“Master Kenobi?”

“Engaged the enemy, he has,” Yoda confirmed.

“Then the war could be over soon.”

“Yes, it could,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought as you spoke. You could sense something troubling Ahsoka.

“That depends not eh Chancellor,” Windu said.

“What do you mean?” Questioned Ahsoka.

“I���m sorry, citizen,” you rolled your eyes at Windu’s tone. “These matters are for the Council to discuss.”

“I understand.”

Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Aayla all left the call, leaving you and Yoda with Ahsoka and Rex. You could tell that Yoda could sense something from Ahsoka as well.

“Ahsoka. More to say, have you?” Yoda asked. “A message for Skywalker, perhaps?”

Ahsoka thought about it while Yoda waited patiently for an answer. “No, Master,” she finally responded. “Thank you. I’ll tell him myself when I see him.”

“May the Force be with you, Padawan.” 

Yoda then disappeared. You watched for a moment as Ahsoka and Rex turned toward each other. You were about to end the transmission when something Rex said caught your attention.

“You didn’t tell them what Maul said about General Skywalker.”

“What did Maul say about Anakin?” You asked quickly, making them realize you hadn’t ended the transmission.

“It was nothing,” Ahsoka tried to cover up.

“Ahsoka. He is my brother. Tell me what Maul said.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Maul has had visions of Anakin joining the dark side.” You gasped, flashes of the golden eyes Anakin bore in your nightmare filled your vision. “It cannot be true. Anakin would never—“

“I do not know anymore, Ahsoka,” you admitted, almost in defeat. “I have… I have never told anyone this, not even Obi-Wan. Well, he knows of my nightmare but not every detail.”

“What nightmare?”

“I am not willing to relive all of it right now but… but in it, Anakin has golden eyes. The eyes of the Sith.”

“No,” Ahsoka shook her head, “he wouldn’t—“

“We don’t know anymore… I don’t know… just… be careful out there, Ahsoka. You don’t know who you can trust.”

~~~

You were watching Coruscant from the main windows of the command deck. Your feet were shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind your back, as you tried to make sense of everything. Gasping, you jolted forward slightly as you felt the loss of great Jedi. You stumbled forward, hand going to your head, as you felt a dark shift in the Force. Anakin. 

“General!” Crak exclaimed, hurrying to steady you. “What’s happening?”

“Something terrible,” you answered, looking at your friend with watery eyes. “Something very terrible. I need to get back down to Coruscant. Now.”

“Ready the General’s ship!”

“Yes, sir!” A clone replied.

“Thank you, Crak,” you said.

“I will come with you,” he told you. He knew that if you felt something terrible, it would truly be terrible and he would not have you go alone.

“We must hurry before it’s too late.”

The two of you were rushing toward the hangar when you felt another shift in the Force. Crak stopped in his tracks, groaning as his hand came up to his head. You stopped and turned to check on him.

“Crak?” You questioned, taking a few careful steps toward him. “What’s wrong?”

Crak groaned again, but he wasn’t the only one. You looked around and realized that the other clones had stopped moving as well. 

“No,” you breathed out, having an idea of what was happening. Flashes of memory played in your mind.

“Know now we do that guide the creation of the clones from the beginning, Dooku did. Hmm, our enemy created an army for us.”

“Crak, listen—“

“Kill the Jedi,” Crak muttered. You heard the other clones around you say the same thing. He looked at you with cold, hard eyes.

“Crak—“ All the clones in the hall aimed their guns at you. “This isn’t you, we’re friends.” 

The Force was almost screaming at you to run, but you couldn’t. Not with your friend like this. Without missing a beat, Crak hardened his gaze.

“FIRE!” He ordered.

Your lightsaber was in your hands and ignited before you could blink. You blocked one of the shots while jumping to avoid a few more.

“Crak! Stop!” You urged as you focused on defending yourself.

More clones were rushing into the hallway. You knew that you needed to get to the hangar bay before it was too late… no matter the cost.

“Please, forgive me,” you pleaded, sorrow lacing every word and seeping out into the air around you.

You shot an arm out and used the Force to push a group of clones back into another oncoming group. Spinning your saber, you killed a group of attacking clones. You felt a ripple in the Force with each life of a clone you took. These men were good. These men were your men, under your care. And you were being forced to kill them to save your own skin. 

Emotions were building inside of you; like a bacta tank getting pressurized, slowly forming cracks in its glass. One wrong move and it would all explode.

Jumping up, you flipped over a group of clones and raced down the hall to the hangar bay. You could hear Crak command the troops to follow after you. With every swing of your lightsaber you were forced to make as you ran, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of each clone life you were taking. As you ran, you could also feel every Jedi life that was being taken. Tears pricked your eyes as you fought to keep going. You needed to get down to Coruscant.

When you reached the hangar bay, you were immediately greeted with an onslaught of blasts. You dodged the best you could but unfortunately, a blast nicked your side. You cried out in pain though continued to fight. You really had no choice. 

Spinning, you cut down surrounding clones before throwing out both of your arms and using the Force to push the oncoming clones away. You rushed into one of the ships, closing the ramp as quickly as you could. Though Crak and a few other clones were still able to slip through. You raced to the cockpit, sealing the door behind you before you quickly on the ship up in the air. You flew the ship out fast, knowing that the other clones would follow you and try to blast you from the sky. 

Crak and his group were banging on the door as they also started to cut through it. You put the ship on autopilot, heading for the Jedi Temple. The Force was calling you there and you could only hope that you could get there in time to help. You allowed yourself to branch out to Obi-Wan for a moment, grateful that you could still feel his signature. 

Suddenly, the door was knocked down and a shot was fired in your back. You cried out as you fell forward, onto your knees. You reignited your lightsaber and swung it back behind you. You shut your eyes as you heard the clones fall. Tears slipped through as you choked out a sob. When you finally turned around, you saw that the group of clones were all dead, including Crak. You crawled over to your friend, cradling his head in your lap as his blood seeped onto your clothes.

“Crak…” you sobbed. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” Your head came down to rest on his as you cried. “Please… forgive me…”

You were not allowed to morn very long as your ship rocked from behind, being fired on. You pressed a kiss to Crak’s forehead before pushing yourself up and to one of the pilot’s seats. You steamed yourself the best you could as you began firing on the ships firing at you. Trusting in the Force, you were able to destroy the ships following you before you came into a sliding landing in front of the Jedi Temple.

The sky was dark, but so was the Force surrounding everything. The Jedi Temple was not dark, as various fires burned from within and made their way out. 

As you stumbled out of the ship, you held back another sob at the sight before you. Dead Jedi were strung across the Temple grounds leading into the Temple. A few fallen clone bodies had joined those of the Jedi. You ignited your lightsaber as you cautiously headed into the Temple.

The horror was worse inside. It was impossible not to have tears spilling down your cheeks as you passed fallen Jedi—including the younglings. You paused by one of the younglings to check for a pulse, only to notice that the youngling had not died from a blaster, but a lightsaber. You stiffened with you heard a lightsaber ignited behind you. You held your breath as you closed your eyes, not wanting to admit who you felt behind you.

“You should have stayed on your cruiser,” Anakin’s voice was dark, like the Force inside of him.

Your grip tightened our your saber’s hilt. “I didn’t have a choice,” you whispered. “The clones were after me.” You slowly stood up, but couldn’t get yourself to turn around.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“Then why did you do this, Ani? Why?”

“Because the Jedi are against me. I must do this to save Padme.”

“Padme?” 

That got you to turn around. You inhaled sharply at the darkness that was Anakin. His face was hiding behind the hood of his cloak, but you could see that they had changed to a golden hue.

“Oh, Anakin…” You breathed out. “What have you done?”

“What I’ve needed to. And you will either join me, or you are against me.”

More tears trailed down your face. “You know that I cannot do that.”

“Then you are against me.”

With an angry shout, Anakin swung his saber at you. You lifted yours up to block his, straining against his power. You growled as you pushed Anakin’s lightsaber up and kicked him back. Anakin stumbled back, easily stopping himself from falling onto his back. He ran at you and you him, feeling anger seeping into you.

Your sabers clashed with just ferocity. Sounds of anger could be heard from both of you as you dodged each blow and swung at each other with all your strength. Anakin used the Force to shove you back into one of the pillars, cracking forming in the stone due to the impact. You snarled as he came closer and you were able to kick him in the chin. His head was flung back as he lost his balance and fell back to the floor. You quickly took the opportunity to steal his saber from him. Standing over him, you aimed both lightsabers at his neck. 

“You won’t do it,” Anakin taunted. “You feel the power too. Together, we can save Padme.”

“From what?” You pressed.

“I’ve had a vision, Padme is to die in childbirth.”

“No.” You shook your head. “No.”

“It will happen, just as I saw mother’s death. But, Y/N/N, together, we can stop it.”

“I just want to stop you.”

“Then do it.”

You were panting as you glared down at Anakin. Your face mirrored his, hardened and dark. As you looked at him longer, your face slowly began to soften. All you could see was the brother you had promised to protect. A promise you had clearly failed to keep.

“No,” you finally said. “I am not like you. I will not kill you.” You turned off the sabers and toss them to the side. “This darkness is not right, Anakin… and I am sorry for not being there to stop it from happening. I am sorry for not protecting you the way I should have.”

Anakin growled as his hand came up and you were forced back onto the ground. The Force pinned you there as he began to choke you.

“You’re right,” he said. “You should have been there. But instead, you left me and I was forced to lean on Palpatine for help.”

“You… were not… forced,” you choked out. “Obi-Wan—“

He pressed the Force against your neck harder. “Obi-Wan was of no help! He did not understand me like you could— as Palpatine could.” With his free hand, Anakin summoned his lightsaber. He ignited it, the blue reflecting off both of your faces. “If you will not join me, then I must do what I have to.”

“Do it… Just know… that I… I… love… you… Ani…”

Anakin kicked your head with his boot, knocking you out. He panted as he struggled with what to do with you. Unable to get himself to actually kill you, he plunged the blade of his saber into your thigh. He turned off his lightsaber as he stared at you for a moment.

“I am sorry, sis,” he said, barely a whisper as a lone tear trailed down his face. “But I must save Padme.”

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[allisoooon]

Maybe She's Not Such a Heinous Bitch After All

For @lockedinthelabyrinth

It was inevitable this season that without Ben, Klaus either had to learn independence, get another enabler, or find another abuser.  Now we know.

A lot of people look at an abusive situation and ask, “Why don’t they just leave?”

Well, The Umbrella Academy just showed you exactly why.  Steve Blackman et al. revealed that the same mechanism that keeps people with their abusers actually exists in you.  You went through the thought process with Klaus this season, wondering whether this Reginald is actually different, and while you probably didn’t reach full faith in him, you did doubt he’s all that bad.  We’re told that bad people only do bad things and good people only do good things, but never in human history has this been true.  You may write someone off because they’re a terrible person, but then they show a side that brings you close again—they’re a generous lover, or they buy you a present, or they take you to a playground and spend quality one-on-one time with you.  They seem self-aware, like they know exactly what they did to you and they’re sorry now.  But then, the abuse comes back around.  They’ve just managed to be nice enough to you that they can keep you on the hook.  That’s all they were doing.  And you’re never quite as immune to this as you think.  If you grew up in this sort of environment, it’s entirely likely you’ve pretty much lost the ability to see it coming. The warning signs just look like normal behavior to you.

Privately, to myself, I call this the “Heinous Bitch” phenomenon, after the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend song “Maybe She’s Not Such a Heinous Bitch After All” (which is brilliantly done in a 60’s girl group style, go listen to it).  It’s a song sung when the main character’s emotionally abusive mother starts being oddly nice to her, and having the relationship with her that she always dreamed of.  Many people go through this stage periodically with their abuser, and the relationship between Reginald and Klaus this season perfectly illustrated how it happens.  Hell, a lot of Klaus’ dialogue is eerily reminiscent of some of the most clichéd things victims say about their abuser during this stage—saying his father is different now (though in this case it’s literal), encouraging other people to give him a chance, all that.  But it ends like it nearly always ends in these situations: a return to the norm once the abuser feels like they no longer benefit from being nice.

This may not be the Reg of Klaus’ timeline, but Reg is still Reg, and knows himself so well he can pick the game up right where his other self left off.  He can tell Klaus is, at his core, a deeply empathetic person who is so desperate to refill all the scoops that have been taken out of him that he’s the most vulnerable target.  Fei foreshadowed this in the first episode by calling him the weakest link.

Do I think 100% of the kindness we saw from Reg towards Klaus was faked?  Not really.  I think there is something about Klaus that Reg came to like.  I think he has some genuine warmth toward Klaus, but it doesn’t go very deep.  I got a touch of regret out of Colm’s performance as he was leaving Klaus to die.  Others might disagree.  But he didn’t have to say the things he said.  He could have just shut Klaus out with no explanation, if he truly didn’t feel any kind of way about him.  Instead, he gives him an explanation and an apology.  The explanation is utterly, needlessly cruel, and the apology means nothing because he then proceeds to do the thing he’s apologizing for even as Klaus begs him not to.  Still.  In that moment, I think Reg was being honest—both about his poor opinion of Klaus, and about his regret for what he was going to do.  Otherwise, what good would it do to tear him down one last time?  Reg is slightly fond of Klaus, but he loves Abigail, and has chosen not to risk taking Klaus along the path towards her, despite that fondness.

And it’s bad.  It’s very, very bad.  In some ways, you could see it as being worse than Reg treating him with only cruelty.  Reg shows he is capable of cognitive empathy (an ability to imagine how someone must be feeling based on their circumstances, which is the kind of empathy ND people often struggle with), and when that’s the case, it can be forgiven if one believes he is also capable of emotional empathy (responding to someone else’s emotions with the same or similar emotion).  I think Klaus believed Reg finally understood him, and in a way, he was right.  Reg understands Klaus like he understands a puzzle he put together.  But understanding the damage his alternate self caused Klaus doesn’t mean he has had any emotional response to it, any compassion for him.  He knows exactly how Klaus is going to take his words, and says them anyway when it would have been kinder to simply shut the door and say nothing.

Klaus has seen that his father knows exactly what he did to him in the past (because he told him in the graveyard scene), feels like he has finally gotten some healing from it, and then been told he was worthless all along.  Finally, he is shoved to the floor as he reaches for Reginald.  That’s an angst dumpster fire that’s going to keep Klaus fans warm for a long time.

And Klaus’ reaction to it is immediate.  Once he makes it to the Void, he gives up.  He tells Luther it’s because he (Klaus) is always messing up, so it’s better for him to just stay out of everything and relax.  The way I take this, it means that Klaus is blaming himself for Reg’s betrayal because he fell for his manipulations.  Victims often let their abusers off the hook because they have accepted that they won’t change—they can, but it’s not a realistic expectation to have.  Luther was the perfect person to see Klaus through this because he knows the Heinous Bitch cycle so intimately, and won’t stand for Klaus wallowing in self-pity. I kind of think he must have told himself the kinds of things he tells Klaus here, to break himself out of his own funk.

This is how the same people get in abusive relationships over and over again. It’s how abused people stay with their abusive partners.  It’s the ultimate trick of an abuser—not terror, but kindness.  And it is cruel.

[scuttling]

Those Who Wait

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Word Count: 4,985 Tags: 18+, Loss of virginity, Insecure reader, Fingering, Protected sex Summary: When you let it slip to the team that you've never had sex, they make it their mission to help you find someone who will make your dreams a reality. *Requested by anons!

Link to A03 or read below! “I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate this, but I am not a virgin,” Spencer says, palms up, and it’s clear this is something he’s reminded the team of on more than one occasion. You’re on the jet on the way home from a case, all of you gathered around chattering mindlessly to decompress, with the exception of Hotch, who is in his usual seat, working on his computer.

“And I never said I was talking about you,” you reply, with a tone just shy of smartass. You regret bringing it up already, because this will open the door to a topic you did not want to discuss with the team, ever, but you can’t put the cat back in the bag.

“Hold on. Are you…?” Emily grins a little, but her face drops into a frown when she notices the change in your demeanor, the tension in your shoulders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, at all.”

“You’re a virgin? Really? You’re almost thirty,” Morgan says, leaning forward to look at you, and you nod, shrug. “Is it a religious thing? Saving yourself for marriage?” You scoot back in your seat, blow out a breath, use the casual posture to try to mask your discomfort.

“Nope, it’s not a religious thing. I’m just waiting for someone who’s worth it.”

“If you’re waiting for the perfect person,” JJ says, folding forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you’re going to be waiting forever.”

You sigh, because this is exactly the reason you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I’m not waiting for the perfect person. For a long time, I didn’t have time to date, and I was—you know, satisfied, without it, so it wasn’t an issue.” Your cheeks heat a little when you say it, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck. “But lately I’ve kind of shifted toward wanting to have sex, to find someone to make the connection with. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I do have standards.”

“Don’t put pressure on yourself to do it. You’ve waited this long, why rush into things?” Emily says with a soft smile, and you reciprocate, grateful.

“I actually think it might be better if she just goes for it,” Morgan disagrees. Why aren’t you surprised? “Get it in, get it on, and get it over with. Then you won’t feel like it’s hanging over your head.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m going on dates; they’re all just really, really bad dates—like, the worst I’ve ever been on.”

“How many dates?” JJ asks with an arched brow, and you grimace.

“In the last month? Twelve.” Morgan laughs out loud, and you kind of want to punch him.

“Twelve first dates in the last month and you can’t get laid? Where are you finding these guys?”

“This stupid dating app Garcia convinced me to sign up for. They all seem fine on their profiles—”

“Oh, no, you can’t go by their profiles. Complete bullshit,” Emily says, and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“How else am I supposed to know what they’re like? They’re strangers.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.” You’re a little surprised when it’s Spencer who chimes in; everyone turns to look at him. “You’re a lot like me, and I know that I was nervous and insecure, and waiting for the right person made it a really great experience for me. I think you should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful.”

“She’s going to be waiting ‘til she’s eighty,” Morgan says with a grin, but he pats you on the back. “And if you do, I guess that’s okay. Not every guy can be a catch like yours truly.”

“Oh, spare us,” JJ says with a laugh, and you move on to other topics for the rest of the flight.

When you go to grab your luggage before heading back to the office, it’s just you and Hotch left on the jet; he’s been quiet for most of the trip, but when he steps up next to you, he says your name, low, to get your attention.

“I just wanted you to know, you deserve to be treated well… your first time. You should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful, like Reid said.” You just look at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Part of you knows what you want to say. You want to say, is it worth it? You want to say, how will I know? You want to say, would you make it meaningful?

What you say is, “Thanks, Hotch.” He nods, hands you your bag, then takes his, closes the luggage compartment; he gestures for you to go ahead of him, and the two of you exit the plane.

You all go back to the office. Everyone hangs around for a few minutes, but Hotch goes up to his office, turns on the lights, sits down at his desk, and takes off his jacket. He’s in for a long night, then. You’re just getting ready to leave when Garcia strolls over, bag in hand.

“Hey, girl. How was that date the other night? Haven’t gotten to talk to you about anything other than murder the last few days.” She notices that your eyes are on Hotch’s office, looks up at him and back down at you. “Is everything okay, hon?” The concern in her voice snaps you out of it, and you look to her, smile.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The date was not, though. I’ll walk out with you.” You grab your things, throw your jacket over your arm, and take one last look up at Hotch’s office before making your way to the parking garage. You go on seven more dates over the course of three weeks that are a complete waste of time and effort. Who knew having what you consider relatively basic standards would make losing your virginity so goddamn difficult? You know you’re not a knockout like JJ or Emily, and sometimes your nerves get the best of you, but you’ve been pretty charming, funny, all dolled up and putting out clear, but not desperate, DTF vibes.

The longer your quest drags on, the more embarrassing it gets. It actually becomes a part of the morning meeting: as soon as you enter the briefing room each day, Morgan raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head. He’s keeping a tally. You want to die a little bit.

Finally, you’re sitting at home one evening when you get the call from JJ that you’ll be heading to Miami for a case first thing the next morning. You thank her for letting you know, but before she hangs up, she says, “Bring a dress, something sexy. If we have an extra night, we’re going to a club and getting you laid.”

You stammer, a little embarrassed at the directness, but you pack a short, light, red dress, something appropriate for a humid Miami night, on the off chance you’ll actually get to go out.

The case is solved in a day and a half, and you are going to stay the night again, so JJ and Emily make it their mission to get you ready for a night out, and Morgan and Spencer make it their mission to scope out your potential partners and check for red flags before you even get close to them.

It’s sweet, kind of wholesome, when you ignore the fact they’re trying to get you fucked.

You have a drink at the outdoor bar, try to loosen up a little; the place is swarming with gorgeous, supermodel looking women with very little clothing on, breasts and ass everywhere you turn, and you feel inadequate, self-conscious in your little red dress. You freaking hate Miami.

You get glances from Morgan and Spencer, nudges of encouragement from Emily and JJ—even Hotch is around somewhere, part of the red flag detail, which you hadn’t expected—and you’re so close to giving up when a song comes on that you know and absolutely love.

Sex is outside your realm of knowledge, but dancing you can do, and you wrap your hand around Emily’s wrist and tell her you want to. JJ takes your drinks, sets them on the table, and the three of you head out to the dance floor.

It’s clear they didn’t expect much of your dancing, because they looked surprised as hell that you know how to work your body to the music, putting your arms on JJ’s shoulders and moving against her. She looks up, grins at Emily over your head, and cocks her eyebrow, impressed.

“Not that innocent after all,” she says, and you toss your head lightly, laugh.

“Said I was a virgin, not that I was innocent.” The three of you dance together, and you’re approached by several guys who try to get behind you, in between you, closer anyway they can. JJ and Emily are selective with who they entertain and who they give the brush off, and you’re grateful, because despite the outcome, you’re having a good time, and you never would have done this alone.

Eventually, a man comes over, wants to dance with you specifically; the girls exchange looks, give you a nudge, and you put your arms around his neck, let him rest his hands on your hips.

He’s pretty hot, you have to admit, a little under six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile, and dancing against him feels good. If it’s any indication of what if would be like to have sex with him, you’d let him take you home in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s been pre-planned that you’ll go back to your room upstairs if you hook up, so your people are nearby in case anything goes wrong; it’s maybe a little weird, the thought of your coworkers being cheerleaders while you lose your virginity, but what about this isn’t weird? At this point, you’re just going with the flow.

This guy is nice enough, doesn’t go straight for your ass like other guys you danced with, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing; you pull back, get his attention so you can tell him thanks for the dance, but you’re going to go back to your friends.

You don’t get a chance to say that, because you’re guided away from him by two strong hands on your waist. You turn, ready to tell someone off for getting handsy with you, but it’s Hotch, so the defensive posture you’d slipped into softens.

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you ask loudly; his expression is serious, his brows pulled down in a frown. He shakes his head, leans in closer.

“I can’t let you go through with that—with him,” Hotch says in your ear, still hard to hear over the thrum of the music, and you put your hand on his shoulder, lean up so you can speak into his.

“What? Why not?” you ask, breathless from dancing and the heat. “JJ and Emily thought he seemed alright.” You didn’t actually want to go through with it, but that’s not important at the moment, not when Hotch is clearly trying to get some kind of point across.

“It’s not that, I just—you deserve better.” You frown, not sure you heard him right, and one of the hands on your waist moves lower; he presses you closer. “I don’t know if you would consider it, but I could do it. I could be the one.”

“The one?” you breathe. You need to hear him say it to confirm it’s not all in your head, that you aren’t taking anything out of context.

“The one you sleep with. The one to show you how good it can be. The one who will treat you well.”

You take a step back, have to see his face; is this pity, kindness, genuine interest? Because for the last few weeks, after every bad date, you’ve come back to the thought of Hotch kissing you, touching you, taking you apart. You know his hands are capable, you know he is kind and gentle, and it’s only the thought of him that keeps you from leaving with the first guy to show you attention. You’re so frustrated, never more desperate to feel than you have been since he told you you deserved something good.

He swallows when you look up at him, and your heart races.

“If you want to, I want to. No pressure if you don’t,” he assures you. What he’s saying is so unexpected, but so perfect, and you nod, wet your lips, lean back up on your toes to put your mouth to his ear.

“I want to. I trust you.” Feeling bold, you brush a hand over the back of his head, press your lips to the side of his neck. “Please?”

“Are you sure?” He sounds as tense as you feel, holds you tightly, like he needs to make sure this is really happening. You cling to him just as tightly, nod your head against his throat, and he squeezes your waist, ushers you across the crowded patio and inside the cool air of the hotel. You both sigh, because it’s quieter, more comfortable, and your gaze lingers over his body until he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

You’ve done your fair share of kissing, and Hotch is so good at it, his hands on your face, his lips softer than you would have imagined, but firm in the way they press against yours. When the kiss breaks, you bring your hands to his wrists, breathing heavily, and then lean in to follow up with a kiss of your own.

He smiles softly, and you smile back, then slip your hand into his and let him lead you to the elevator. You’re not sure if it’s the night of dancing, the heat, the thrill of not only having sex after waiting so long, but having sex with Hotch, or what, but you feel changed; you’re a grown adult, you know that losing your virginity doesn’t mean much, doesn’t change who you are fundamentally, but the thought of experiencing it gives you a stomach full of butterflies in the best way possible.

“Would you like to go to my room, or yours?” he asks when you board the elevator, and he presses the button for the third floor. You plan to say it doesn’t really matter to you, but a thought crosses your mind.

“We can go to mine. I have condoms.” You’re not shy about using protection, know it’s just plain stupid not to, when you've been essentially searching for a new partner whose sexual and medical history you know little to nothing about, but telling Hotch makes your face heat a little. “I bought a variety pack—you know, when I started going on the dates.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, nodding, and then he bends to kiss you, brushes his fingers over your jaw. “How are you feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Good,” you clarify. You feel so much better than okay you barely know how to say it, but there is one thing you didn’t think to ask before. “Hey, are you… are you attracted to me?” You look him over curiously, and the elevator dings; you step forward to get off, walk down the hall, but Hotch puts his hand out to stop the door, which stops you.

“I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, and ever since you mentioned on the jet that this was something you were looking forward to… I can’t deny I’ve thought about being the one you share it with. Are you attracted to me?” You wet your lips, ready to reply with an emphatic yes, but he must take it for hesitation. “I understand why you want to do this, but if you aren’t attracted to me—it’s important that you want this with me, not just that you want this. I don’t want us to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

His words make you lose a little of the nervousness you were still holding onto, and you decide to show, not tell, how you feel about him; you wrap your fingers in his shirt and guide him down for a kiss that is hotter than before, still soft and slow, but wet and deep, too. After a moment, the elevator dings—likely due to the door remaining open for so long—and you break apart, breathless, and exit the elevator to head down the hall to your room.

Your interaction isn’t exactly awkward at first, but a little stilted: you both take off your shoes, and you grab waters from the mini fridge, hand him one and take a long sip of the other. It’s almost as if you are delaying the inevitable, but it’s not because this isn’t something you want to do; if pressed, you’d say the idea of having this time with Hotch is actually something you want to savor, not rush into too quickly. You aren’t delaying, but prolonging, and eventually you have to snap yourself out of it and just enjoy what you have while you have it.

You cross the room, walk over to him, and put your hands on his stomach, look up at him with clear eyes. His fingers ghost over your bare arms, and for a moment you just share breath, a lingering stare, until you stretch up to meet him in the middle for a deep kiss.

Hotch moves his hands to your hair, tips your head up, and you wind your arms around his back, pulling him closer and stepping forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He is warm, broad, solid beneath your hands, and you push them up the back of his shirt, skim them over his skin.

“Can I take this off?” you breathe when you separate, and he nods, helps you work it over his head and drops it to the floor.

Your hands rest on his stomach again, glide up his chest, and when you kiss this time, he turns you so your back faces the bed, eases you onto it. He lays between your legs, kisses until you’re both panting with need, and when you lean your head back to catch your breath he moves his mouth to your neck, trails it slowly up, then down, softly bites at the base of your throat. You hum softly, clutch his shoulders, bring your knees up around his waist.

“God, I want you.” He pulls back, looks down at you, his chest heaving, and you nod, brush fingers through his hair. “I want you, Hotch. Please touch me.”

He begins with the slow drag of big, careful hands down the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your dress up around your waist. You can’t stop looking at his face, serious and handsome, even though the rest of him is perfect too; you like that he looks affected by this, like it means something to him as well, like you’re not alone in feeling a bit overwhelmed. He moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans up on his knees so he can pull your panties off, sets them on the bed beside him.

“I’m just going to rub. Tell me if it’s too much, not enough.” He curls over you for a kiss and slides his fingers along your pussy, three of them, long and thick. You close your eyes immediately, because the first touch is so good, his fingertips gliding through your slick and spreading it over your lips and clit; you are both breathing heavily, mouths hovering over each other, and you clutch at his biceps while he rubs where you are soft and aching.

It’s not that it’s not enough—you could get off this way, easily, you’re halfway there already—but you want more, imagine yourself clamping down around his fingers, digging your nails into him when you come.

“Can you…” You trail off, bite your lip, and he smooths a palm over your cheek, your hair.

“Ask me. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to give it to you.” A soft, needy noise leaves your throat, and he presses his lips to yours, slips the pads of two fingers over your clit, rubs circles against it. “Is it this? Is this what you want?” You wet your lips, think no but yes, move a hand to his face.

“Can you put your fingers inside me? I want to feel you inside.” Your voice trembles over it, not used to being so direct, not used to asking for what you want, and his answering kiss is deep, wet; he pulls back to look at your face as he presses one finger inside, and you feel your expression shift, from desperate to intensely pleasured, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Hotch, oh.” He pulls it out slowly, nearly all the way, and pushes it back in, rubs your cheek, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Good is an understatement, and you clench around him, slide your hands down his forearms, nod. “Good. It’s okay if you’re just quiet, but if you’re nervous about how you’ll sound, don’t be. I’d like to hear how you’re feeling.” Another reason to feel so good about this—because you are self-conscious of the way you’ll sound, and you should have known he would pick up on it, try to ease your insecurities. You wet your lips, nod, and he moves the finger slowly in and out, adds another when you ask him to.

“Mmm. Mmm.” You bring a hand to your covered breast, squeeze it, and he moves to push your dress up further, to bare it, maybe, but you tense, then instantly feel silly.

“What is it?” he asks gently, running his hand over your stomach instead, and your muscles relax, you sigh.

“Just a little self-conscious… about my breasts—especially after everything I saw downstairs,” you say, huffing a laugh, and he chuckles, nods.

“Miami is a bit much. But you’re so beautiful, sweetheart, just as you are, and it’s clear they bring you pleasure. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take your dress off all the way, touch them… kiss them.” The prospect sounds so tempting—your nipples are sensitive beneath your own hands, but under his? His mouth?

Your breathing picks up again, and you nod, rest your arms over your head so he can pull it up and off. You swallow, trembling and bare beneath him, and he steps off of the bed to push the rest of his clothes off, too; you know you feel vulnerable, so maybe he sensed it, wanted to make you more comfortable? Either way, he is gorgeous, and you’re so grateful to be doing this with him.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks, bending over the edge of the bed to kiss you with a hand on your cheek. You direct him to your bag, and he opens the box, takes out the one he needs, walks back to you; you lean up on your elbows to watch him intently as he tears the package open, rolls it onto his cock. When he climbs on top of you again, when he pushes your knees gently apart and makes himself at home between them, you shudder; you can feel his dick for the first time, hard against your thigh, and he leans in to kiss your throat, your shoulders, and eventually, your breasts.

His mouth covers one, his hand covers the other, and you gasp when his lips close around your nipple, suck softly. “Hotch, oh my god.” You lift your hips, looking for contact, and he removes the hand from your breast, uses it to line his cock up so it can slide over your pussy as you rock against him, wet, perfect pressure, as he pulls your breast more roughly into his mouth, nibbles it.

You arch your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he moans, slowly glides his hands over your throat, into your hair. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he slips out from between you, making you sigh at the loss. Now that you’ve felt him, it’s maddening to be without, and you wet your lips, touch his face.

“I’m ready.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks, your chin, rubs his nose softly against yours, and you meet for a deep, slow, wet kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please.” You move your hands to his waist, guide him closer, and he pushes slowly inside, lets you get used to the stretch it brings. It just feels good, not really a new sensation, since you’ve put toys inside before, but he is so much thicker, more satisfying to feel along your sensitive channel, his body warm on top of yours.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs, lips grazing yours, and you curl your hand around the back of his neck, just kiss him, enjoy the fullness and the slide of his tongue.

“So good. You can move,” you say, and your voice sounds strained, but it’s with arousal, not discomfort. You hitch your knees up higher, put your hands on his arms, pull him in so he’ll know that. “Want to feel you, Hotch.” You share breath for a few moments, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, repeats it a few times, slow and steady, looking into your eyes.

You moan, carefully roll your hips in time with his, and he pumps inside a little deeper, a little quicker. You grip his arms, move your hands to his face, unsure what part of him you want to touch, anchor yourself against. He leans down for a kiss and you press your fingers to his cheeks, kiss him more passionately, less timidly than you’ve been so far. He groans against your mouth, and you pant as your bodies work together; it’s almost instinctual, the need to take him deeper, to meet, thighs hard against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sliding his hands over your sides, hips, and you nod, gasp when he shifts up, gets his mouth on your breast again, kisses it wetly while his cock glides inside. That’s enough to have you moaning, loudly, head back, your hands on his body now, to feel his muscles flex while he thrusts inside you.

“Hotch, oh. Feels so good, I—” He bites down, lightly, just the edge of his teeth, and your legs snap tight against his body, shaking while you come around him. “Oh, oh. Mmm.” Your muscles contract so hard he grunts, your pussy all but trapping him there, and he grinds against you, grips your thighs.

“So perfect. You feel so good coming for me, so tight.” You ride out the pleasure, rolling your hips against his, and when you’re a little looser he thrusts again, slides an arm behind yours, his hand carefully around the back of your neck, kisses you until he comes, groaning, in your ear.

You look up at him as he gathers himself, wets his lips, and you curl around him for a hug; he holds you tightly, rubs gentle palms over your body, murmurs that you’re incredible and he hopes you know that was special. It's the connection you were looking for, intimacy, and you are so incredibly happy you found it, even if you did find it in the unlikeliest of places.

You lay together for a few minutes before he pulls out, ties off the condom, takes it into the bathroom, and then you go in to pee. You look yourself over in the mirror—again, fully aware that losing your virginity changes almost nothing—but you can’t help feeling like a missing piece has locked into place.

If makes you wonder if the missing piece maybe wasn’t sex, but Hotch.

When you head back into the other room, you expect him to be dressed, or at least getting dressed, but he’s laying back on the bed, covers turned down, body still bare—what you can see of him is bare, anyway, because crisp white sheets cling to his waist, make him look only that much more delicious as he waits for you.

You suddenly ache with desire again, touch your chest at the rush of emotion, of sensation, and then you climb on the bed, slip into his lap, kiss him again. This time it’s different, because your lips and tongue are all saying what you can’t, and it’s intimate, passionate, vulnerable, intense.

Except, maybe you can say it, because he kisses back just as furiously, and it translates into something as strong as what you’re feeling, his hands on your face and lower back holding you close.

“I want you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you’re panting hard, desperate for more. “Not just tonight���I want every night to feel like tonight. I know you weren’t planning for anything more than this, but if you like, maybe I could take you to dinner when we get back. We could see if there’s something more?” He looks nervous, like the offer won’t be well received, but you just nod, smile, lean close for a gentler brush of lips.

“I’d really like that. I don’t want to only feel like this tonight.”

You kiss a little more, softer, sweeter things, eventually moving from his lap to curl against his side; the two of you cuddle, talk—it’s not awkward in the slightest, just feels right, and you drift to sleep warm and content in his arms.

Maybe Miami’s not so bad after all.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

[jamiewintons]

Break Time (Chris Pitt-Goddard/F!Reader)

Summary: You've got a massive crush on Chris, but you don't believe he'd ever see you as anything more than a coworker. Things might be set to change when you walk into the back room to a very interesting sight...

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Coworkers to Lovers. Awkward Crushes. Semi-Public/Workplace Sex. Oral Sex (F!Receiving). Desk Sex. Insecure!Reader. Unprotected Sex. Chris being a little shit.

A/N: Once again, this is dedicated to everyone over at the Baynton Babes server. I wouldn't be able to write these kinds of things without your support and encouragement, and I appreciate every one of you. I’ll put the AO3 link in the replies!

Word Count: 3974

*

Chris Pitt-Goddard was a very strange man, and often you found yourself wondering why it was that you liked him so much.

To be honest, he had a habit of making your job far more difficult than it needed to be. The amount of fights he picked with customers that you ended up having to resolve had to number in the hundreds by now, and you’d only been working with him for about six months. Sometimes, he’d just skip out on work on a whim because he got bored, and went looking for something more interesting to do.

But despite all of that, you did like him. You really liked him. It was getting to the point where you were embarrassed by the effect he managed to have on you. Any time Chris so much as looked at you, you would blush a shade of bright red and had to avert your eyes like an infatuated teenager. You knew that you were definitely too old to be acting that way, but you couldn’t help it. You weren't exactly great at hiding it either, and you wondered whether Chris had any idea of how you felt about him.

Even if you did, you knew that it really didn’t matter. Chris was weird, sure, but he was also one of the hottest guys you’d ever met in your life. Not only that, he was pretty much a genius, and he had an insane amount of confidence that you could never hope to match. He could probably get any girl he wanted.

You’d never considered yourself to be particularly attractive, and you were awkward as hell, so you knew that you were deluding yourself even imagining that a guy like Chris would ever look at you as anything more than a coworker.

Sure, you guys had fun goofing around together when you were on the same shift, and one time he had even told off a rude customer who had shouted at you until you were on the verge of tears, but at the end of the day, you were just two people who happened to work at the same tech shop.

Today had been one of those days, and it wasn’t even half over yet. There had been a huge rush of customers after you’d just opened that had lasted for a couple of hours, in the middle of which, Chris had simply disappeared. It would have been almost impressive if it weren’t so annoying; you hadn’t even seen him actually leave. You’d turned away from him to speak to a customer, and when you looked again, Chris was gone without a trace. How did he always manage to do that? And what kind of blackmail material did he have on your boss that allowed him to keep getting away with it?

Once you’d finished helping the sweet old lady who had been looking for a camera for her grandson, you glanced at the clock and noticed that your break had technically started six minutes ago.

“Go on, go and take your break,” said Sarah, another one of your coworkers. “The rush is over, I can handle things on my own for a bit. I’ll let you know if Chris shows himself again.” She rolled her eyes. You knew that she wasn’t exactly Chris’ biggest fan, and as someone who did really like him, you could kind of understand why.

“Thanks so much! I’ll see you after!” You told her with a smile and a polite wave, before walking towards the breakroom to collect your things. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t really found the time to think about what you were going to have for lunch. There was always that nice Chinese restaurant down the street, or maybe you could go for something more simple like a sandwich–

All thoughts of food – and anything else, really – left your mind in an instant when you opened the door to the breakroom, and were greeted by a sight that you were sure you would only ever see in your dreams.

Chris was standing in the middle of the room in his underwear.

If you had been capable of rational thought in that moment, you would have wondered, very reasonably, exactly why Chris would be standing around only in his undies at work . But as soon as you laid eyes on him, your brain essentially ceased functioning. The only adjective that came to mind to describe him was ‘beautiful’. He was thin – though you already knew that – but he didn’t look sickly or scrawny. Every inch of him was absolutely perfect, far better than anything your daydreams could have ever conjured up. You wanted to run your hands all over his body and feel his soft skin under your fingers, or to trail kisses down his torso…

You weren’t sure how long you were staring, but you were only broken out of your daze by Chris’ voice. “My eyes are up here,” he said, and worried that you’d creeped him out by so shamelessly ogling him, your eyes quickly darted up to his face. Chris seemed far from uncomfortable; in fact, he was giving you his trademark cheeky grin. It was something that you saw almost every day, but somehow it affected you even more when he was in such a state of undress.

Was this a dream? There was no way that this was actually happening, right? People just didn’t strip down to their underwear at their place of work in real life. That was the kind of thing that only happened in porn.

Chris was looking at you intently, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you still found yourself incapable of forming a coherent sentence. If you tried to speak, you were pretty sure all that would come out of your mouth would be a string of confused noises and something resembling the words ‘please take me now’.

“Y/N?” Chris said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He’d thought your reaction was kind of cute at first, but he was starting to seriously worry that you were going to faint or something. He took a couple of steps towards you, and for the first time since you came into the room, you made proper eye contact with him. “Are you okay?”

Without thinking, you closed the extra distance between the two of you, before cupping Chris’ face in your hands and crashing your lips against his. You didn’t even have time to consider whether it had been the wrong thing to do, your instincts had simply taken over.

Luckily for you, Chris did not seem disappointed. He made a little squeak of surprise – he certainly hadn’t been expecting this from you of all people – but within a few seconds he was already kissing you back with even more fervour, one of his hands tangling into your hair. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body closer to his, so you were flush against each other.

After a few moments, your need for oxygen overtook your need for him. You pulled away from each other's lips, but found yourselves unable to break away from each other's gaze. Seeing the desire you held for Chris reflected in his own eyes affected you in a way you weren't even sure how to describe. There was no doubt about it; he wanted you too. It was like a fire had been ignited inside of you, and you never wanted it to be extinguished. That knowledge gave you a boost of confidence, the likes of which you’d never felt before in your life.

With that fire still blazing inside of you, you kissed him again, like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Soon you felt Chris beginning to tug at the hem of your shirt, and you were so dazed that it took a moment for you to process exactly what he was trying to do. When you’d figured it out, you helped him to lift it up and over your head, only breaking the kiss once you absolutely had to. Now it was Chris’ turn to shamelessly ogle you, though it didn’t last very long, because soon enough his mouth was at your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin there.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Chris groaned against your throat, and God , hearing those words come out of his mouth made you feel like you were going to melt. Just knowing that he wanted you too drove you crazy. One of his hands trailed up your torso to cup one of your breasts, squeezing it gently but firmly and making a soft moan escape past your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

“I’ve been thinking about it pretty much since the day I met you,” you told him between harsh breaths, struggling to get the words out. “It’s so hard to focus on computers… when all I can do is imagine what your lips feel like.”

“Now that you don’t need to imagine any more, maybe you’ll focus better,” Chris suggested, before tracing his tongue over an already fading bite mark.

“I doubt it. Now that I know what it’s like to kiss you, I’m never going to be able to think about anything else.”

Chris laughed softly, and he kept moving downwards until his kisses reached your still partially covered breasts. He seemed particularly enamoured with that area of your body, judging how much attention he was lavishing on it; while he kissed one, his hand squeezed the other, and you soon reached your arms behind your back to unfasten your bra so Chris could remove it.

Now, without the pesky fabric hindering him, Chris was able to continue further, eagerly licking and sucking at your nipples and making you gasp. He revelled in coaxing reactions out of you, you could feel him grinning each time you made even the slightest noise.

Chris seemed entertained by his current activity, but you ached to go further. Your mind was far beyond thinking about your lunch break – honestly, you barely even remembered you were at work anymore – but somewhere deep down you still recognised that your time was limited.

“Chris,” you breathed, making him stop what he was doing to look up at you. He knew what you were asking, you didn’t even have to say a word. Chris tore himself away from your chest and took your hand in his, leading you across the room to a desk, covered by paperwork and miscellaneous computer components. 

Before you could even wonder what he was going to do, Chris pushed everything off the desk with a sweep of his arm, the objects scattering onto the floor and making a rather loud noise. “I’ll clean it up, I promise,” he told you, though you weren’t sure if you believed him, nor that you even cared, as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, hurriedly kicking off your shoes as Chris began working on your trousers.

You assisted him in removing the garment, and Chris unceremoniously tossed it aside, to wherever your shirt and bra had ended up. Now you were left only in your panties, and Chris was quick to drop to his knees between your slightly spread legs. He smirked at the sight of the sizeable wet area on your underwear, at how much he had already been able to affect you, and starting from your ankles, began slowly peppering kisses up your legs, closer and closer to where you really needed him.

Once he’d reached your inner thighs, Chris began leaving gentle bites against the sensitive flesh there. You were pretty sure there would be marks there later, but really, you didn’t mind. If anything, you wanted him to leave marks, so later when you were wondering to yourself about whether this had been a dream, you would have concrete evidence to remind you that it indeed was real.

After what felt like an eternity, Chris’ lips had come to the top of your thighs, pressing right against where the edge of your panties met your skin. He looked up at you, eyes sparkling with mischief, as his fingers teased the sides of the thin fabric. You were sure he was going to pull them down, but no, instead he stuck his tongue out, gently licking you through your underwear.

As frustrating as it was, it still felt good, even if he wasn’t touching you directly. His tongue focused on the wet spot that had formed, tasting what he could of you, but you could tell that he was quickly growing impatient – as were you – and he wanted to try the real thing. 

Chris hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them down the length of your legs and once again throwing them aside. His gaze returned to your face, as you stared down at him hungrily. “Think you’re ready, babe?” he asked smugly, and taking a deep breath, you nodded. Chris gripped your hips before lowering his face between your thighs.

He wasn’t one to start slow, ready to enthusiastically devour you right from the beginning. Already, you found yourself having to grip his hair between your fingers. “You taste so good,” he moaned against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body and making you cry out. In a clearer mental state, you would have been concerned about someone hearing you, but the world outside this room didn’t seem to exist to you anymore. All that mattered was Chris and his mouth and how good he was making you feel.

Perhaps it was due to your relative lack of experience, but it wasn’t long before Chris had you whimpering, squirming against his tongue as he lapped at you. You knew that you were already teetering on the edge, feeling the wave of pleasure just about ready to overtake you, when suddenly everything stopped.

You opened your eyes to look down at Chris in utter shock, only to once again see that cheeky grin plastered across his face, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness. You let out a noise of confusion, unable to find the words to question him on what he’d just done, why he’d stopped when you’d been so, so close to finishing. Chris laughed, clambering up off his knees and standing up. For the first time, you chanced a look down, noticing his prominent erection through his boxer briefs. You bit your lip.

“Don’t worry, babe, it’s not over yet.” Placing a hand against your cheek, Chris leaned down to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. The kiss was very brief, and he broke away from you, smiling devilishly.

Chris stepped backwards, scrambling to remove his underwear and nearly tripping over in the process. Then you were treated to the sight of a fully naked Chris, which you had to say, was a wonderful one. Your gaze fixated on his thick, leaking cock and you ached to finally feel it inside of you.

“Usually I don’t like exerting so much energy, but I’m feeling generous today,” Chris told you, pressing a few more kisses to your neck and pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. You could feel his cock pressing against you and it made you even more excited. “But next time, you have to make it up to me.”

“Oh, you’ve decided there’s already going to be a next time, have you?” you teased, but truthfully, the thought that he would want to do this with you again made you feel a little giddy.

“Babe, once I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging for a next time.” Chris winked at you, and once again, there was his cheeky grin. You rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Well, hurry up and prove it,” you challenged, smirking.

Chris moved his hips back, and you braced yourself for him to push inside of you, but instead he just decided to slide his cock between your dripping folds, the head nudging against your swollen clit. It felt good, and with how close you had already been before, you were incredibly sensitive. You were pretty sure that you could probably come just from this – in an embarrassingly short amount of time – but you didn’t want to, not when the alternative seemed far better.

“Chris,” you whined, and still he continued to tease you, smirking wickedly as he did so. You felt yourself approaching the edge again, and all you wanted was for him to hurry up and fuck you already. “Christopher Pitt-Goddard, I swear if you keep teasing me like this, I’m going to–”

Your threat transformed into a long, drawn out moan as Chris used that very moment to finally sheath himself inside of you, all in one movement. You were once again left speechless, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You were saying?” Chris asked, still keeping that grin, as he immediately began moving his hips, too eager to allow you even a few moments to adjust. Really, you didn’t feel like delaying things any longer either. You’d been wanting this for far too long.

Hooking one leg around Chris’ waist, you did your best to move your hips in rhythm with his. It was unbelievable how amazing it felt, far better than all of the times that you had touched yourselves and pretended it was him. Your imagination couldn’t have given you the little whiny moans he let out, or the way he desperately grabbed at your hips to push himself further inside of you, or how he would lean down to nip at your neck whenever he felt the urge.

You leaned back slightly, struggling to keep your eyes open so you could watch Chris’ face. He seemed to far more focused on this than you’d ever seen him be on his work. It was kind of sweet, and you couldn’t help but smile. Chris saw your expression and smiled too, bending down to capture your lips with his. His thrusts sped up slightly, and you moaned into his mouth, leaning back a little further. Breaking away from his lips, you shifted your weight onto your elbows so you could lift one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. The other leg followed, so your calves were about his neck.

“Oh fuck,” Chris moaned breathlessly, pressing his body against your legs so that they were pushed back further towards your chest. You were practically bent in half beneath him, but you didn’t really mind. He put his hands under your hips to help him guide his thrusts more easily. Chris hadn’t been lying before when he said that he didn’t like to exert too much energy, even during sex – honestly, if the situation had been different he probably would have preferred you to ride him – but this position allowed him to reach so much deeper inside you, and he couldn’t even think of how tired he was going to be afterward.

Chris stared down at you with blown-out eyes as he crashed his lips against yours, devouring them hungrily. You were gasping, barely able to kiss him back at this point. The way you were breathlessly moaning, trying to pull him even closer with your legs over his shoulders was intoxicating. He could tell you were getting closer and closer, but he worried that he would end up finishing before you, and that just couldn’t be allowed to happen.

He grabbed your legs and put them back around his waist, placing one hand on your back so he could pull you back up towards him. His other hand, the one that wasn’t holding you steady, snuck between your legs to stroke two fingers against your sensitive clit. Chris felt you tighten around him as you whimpered, and he knew that he was on the right track.

“I can feel that you’re getting close, babe,” Chris whispered between kisses to your throat, his thrusts becoming more intense as his fingers continued to dance against your clit. “I want to feel you come for me.”

His tone – unbeknownst to him – was almost a begging one, and the sound of it combined with all of the pleasure you were feeling began to overwhelm you. You’d already been so close anyway, so Chris’ encouragement was the one last thing you needed to push you over the brink. Crying out his name, you dug your fingernails deep into his back.

“Holy shit,” Chris groaned with a shuddering breath, finding the rhythm of his hips difficult to maintain. Not just because of how tightly you were gripping him, but because of the sight of your face in such ecstasy, because of him. A few more thrusts were all he needed and then he was coming too, clenching his eyes shut and moaning your name along with a string of curse words as you felt his warmth flood you.

You both took a few moments to come down from your highs, breathing heavily. With his body still shaking a little, Chris slowly pulled out, before practically collapsing against you and pressing his face into your neck. Your heart skipped a beat; after all of what you had just done, something as simple as that shouldn’t have affected you. Nevertheless, it did, and you brought up a hand to stroke his hair, feeling him smile and relax into your embrace.

“You know, I meant what I said before. I think you’re really hot,” Chris told you, mumbling sleepily. “I wasn’t just saying it to get into your pants. I like you. I’ve liked you for ages.”

“I like you too, Chris,” you said, feeling a blush creep its way onto your cheeks. All this talk of liking each other seemed awfully childish, but it felt really good to admit, knowing that he felt the same.

You looked around at the state of the room, as you slowly came back to reality. Your clothes were scattered everywhere, along with the paper and computer parts that Chris had so carelessly swept off the desk and onto the floor. “We’d better clean all this up and then get back to work, I suppose.” You sighed.

“I don’t feel like going back to work. Too tired,” Chris whined, nuzzling against you like a cat looking for attention. You couldn’t help but smile, and enjoyed the feeling of his soft hair as you ran your fingers through it.

“You know… if you’re really good and help me clean up, then do everything else you need to do for the rest of the day…” You took a sharp inhale, hoping that this would work and it wouldn’t come off as too forward. “I might let you come over to mine after work? Maybe we could… do this again?”

Chris’ eyes widened. You had never seen him move so quickly in all the time you’ve known him, as he darted around the room, collecting your clothes and delivering them back to you. He was so enthusiastic that as you got dressed, he even tidied up all of the mess that the two of you had made, before dressing himself.

Before you stepped out of the breakroom and into the main area of the shop, Chris pulled you towards him and kissed you, much softer and sweeter than the other kisses you’d shared since the first one. It wasn’t until later when your stomach started rumbling that you realised you’d forgotten to eat. Thankfully, your new boyfriend – as Chris had referred to himself that night – was perfectly willing to share some of the snacks that he apparently had hidden around the shop, so you had no reason to regret how you had decided to spend your lunch hour.

Requests for fics/drabbles, headcanons, and character preferences are currently OPEN!

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hey!! I love your writing. Can you do a Yandere! Ranboo, Tommy , and tubbo. where they are all in love with the reader and they kidnapped her to ‘keep her safe’ and the reader doesn’t know at first, then she slow realized they are obsessed with her. she like them back but she also want to live her life, so she tries to make agreement? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

The Ranboo gif is just beautiful and I love it. Lemme see what I can do for ya! I wrote a bullet point Platonic fic if that's fine? I'm still worried about writing the minors in romantic relationships, even if it's the characters.

Sorry, it took so long... My burnout got really bad and I refused to even write basic stuff. But I'm back now! Well. Mostly.

Safe Behind Glass (Yandere!Plat!C!Bench Trio x GN!Reader)

You were a little groggier than normal when you awoke, but it was nothing to alarm you immediately.

Just simply brushing it off as you weren't feeling the best that day, you rolled over to fall back to sleep, but quickly noticed something wrong.

It didn't feel... Right?

The blankets... The mattress... The pillow... They weren't yours...

You peeled your eyes open and your expression went blank with fear.

The room was beautiful mind you.

But it wasn't yours either.

You were laying on a fluffy (f/c) canopy bed, surrounded by quartz walls that were dimly lit soul lanterns that prevented you from being completely swallowed by darkness.

Slowly dragging yourself off the bed, you heard a metal 'clunk' that hit the cold quartz flooring below you.

Turning your head to face downwards, you saw that a decently thick metal chain was cuffed to your ankle.

Somehow, your panic became worse as you immediately grabbed onto it and started to yank on the solid metal, but it refused to budge.

You had no idea how many minutes or hours you spent in that room. Reaching at the iron door desperately, yanking at the chain around your ankle that kept you from reaching the exit, searching the blue lanterns for anything...

But then, the white metallic door slowly swung open, revealing Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy.

You weren't that close to them, save for a couple interactions here and there, but hey, they came to save you! That didn't matter in the slightest!

You almost cried upon seeing them and moved to walk over, but the chain stopped you from reaching them, and you noticed that they weren't moving to help you.

"You're awake!" Tubbo chirped softly, his tan goat ears wiggling with joy, "I'm glad the potion didn't stick for too long... You could've wound up starving if you stayed asleep."

Horror slowly began to set into your heart as Ranboo nodded and walked over to the dark oak table in the corner of the room and set down a basket of food.

"Ran...Boo...?" You whispered, watching as the monochrome male turned and curiously tilted his head in your direction, "Why... Am I here?"

Instead, Tommy stepped in front of you with a bright cheesy smile, the same one that resembled when he would find a new disc or start a new adventure, "For your safety, (N/n)!"

"Safety?" You choked out softly, Ranboo quickly guiding you to sit in the oak chair, "But... I'm one of the richest people on the server... I have god armour... Nothing could kill m-"

"Techno and Dream can." Tubbo interrupted sharply, halting you mid-sentence.

Right... That masked man... Or whatever he was... He was extremely dangerous, as well as Techno. They could likely pierce your netherite chest plate without even flinching at the number of thorns you had enchanted.

"We don't want anyone to bring you any harm... There's no problem with that, right, (Y/n)?" Ranboo smiled, flashing his sharpened teeth unthreateningly.

No... You wanted to say, but you wanted freedom! You wanted to expand your house to the size of a mansion! You wanted to bicker with Quackity about the stupidest of things! You wanted to get building advice from Phil!

Not be locked away because your safety was a tiny bit compromised!

"Tommy... Tubbo... Ranboo... Please, I'm not going to just stay locked away because I-"

"You'll see things our way soon... Eat up, get your rest." Tubbo smiled and gave you a hug, ignoring how you froze suddenly, before turning and skipping out of the room with the taller two following behind him.

Despite... How screwed up the three were with their methods of making you be their friend, it was working...

They were actually incredibly friendly and funny. It made life in capture bearable! Even though you were incredibly snappy and cruel to them in the beginning, they never held it against you.

Although... Despite their kindness and your quickly blooming friendship, you still had a craving to go outside. Even if what the three told you about everyone forgetting you existed was true.

"You look sad, (N/n)..." Tubbo murmured softly, watching you stare off into the blank quartz wall, "Are you okay?"

Tommy straightened up from his handmade scribble of a map, turning his head towards you in confusion. Ranboo stopped writing mid-word likely and looked in your direction as well.

They never liked it when you were upset.

You pursed your lips silently for a moment, clearly unsettling the males around you, "I just... Haven't been feeling too great... Both mentally and physically I mean... I need sunlight..."

"Yeah... I was reading about that earlier..." Ranboo hummed softly, adjusting his crown as he looked up at the ceiling, "But the issue is..."

"My safety... Yes, I know. What if, I wear my full netherite armour and keep a totem AND a Rapple on me? And also not leave your sides?" You bargained nervously.

That hadn't worked before. But then again, You weren't as close to them before...

The silence that fell upon the room was unsettling and caused your heart to race quickly. If they didn't like what you said, you would be alone for a few straight days... You didn't like it...

"Okay."

What.

That worked?

You just had to ask?!

You watched as Tubbo stood up and pulled the small ender chest from his pocket and set it on the ground, causing it to grow to normal size.

Standing aside, he made a gesture for you to open it and get your stuff.

Hesitantly, You walked over and kneeled down in front of the ender chest. Looking to Tubbo and the others for confirmation, you slowly opened it once they nodded.

Carefully, you began pulling out your armour but paused seeing the lack of golden apples and totems.

Right... Before you had gotten kidnapped by the group, you had used a totem when you fell into the L'Manhole where L'Manberg once was.

That what caused them to kidnap you...

"I-I used... My totem... And Fundy stole my Rapple..." You murmured hesitantly, feeling ready to cry.

Your only chance to escape and you couldn't grab it...

"Hey! Hey! Don't cry! Here!" Ranboo eagerly held the two golden items out towards you at the first sight of tears gathering under your eyes.

"What...?"

"(Y/n)! We want you to be happy! If being outside, even with god armour, rapples and totems, makes you happy, then damn well we're bringing you outside!" Tommy grinned.

After a few tears and lots of hugs, Tubbo helped you hop into your armour while Ranboo unlocked the chain cuff from around your ankle. Tommy had left, leaving the door open for once, going to scout the area for any dangerous mobs.

"Ready?" Ranboo smiled, linking one of his arms with yours, the one that you held the totem in to be more specific. Tubbo happily linked his arm with the other one.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as they began to walk you out the door, Ranboo had to duck down a lot, before leading you to the quartz stairway.

Once up the stairs, Tubbo pressed in a code to the iron door and it slid open quickly, causing you to flinch and pinch your eyes shut at the bright painful light of the sun.

It took about twenty minutes of trying to adjust to the sunlight with the two males encouraging you before you were able to look around.

It was everything you had missed...

The sunlight...

The trees...

God, it was perfect...

Tommy eventually came out of the tree line and sat down beside you as you took it all in...

Months, you were down there. And sure, they gave you plenty of decorations to prevent you from experiencing sensory deprivation, nothing could ever compare to the beauty of the outside world.

A voice cut through the air -calling for someone or something named Fran?- and you almost didn't recognize it. But then the owner came out of the trees, almost a similar direction that Tommy came from earlier.

Sam? He looked so... Different now...

The creeper hybrid slowly lowered his gas mask to show his mouth dropped in shock, "(Y/n)...? You're alive...?"

Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo were freaking out, trying to bring you back into the bunker, as they called it, but you weren't budging. You hadn't seen another being in ages... And while you did platonically love the three boys, you enjoyed hearing a new voice.

"You... Remember me? But... Tubbo you said-" You frowned at the goat hybrid as they stopped suddenly, realizing that you weren't moving.

"You three... Kept them locked away... For almost an entire year?" Sam's voice was getting a little bit scary now, but it wasn't directed at you, instead, at your best friends...

"Sam! It was to protect them! Please!" Ranboo tried, but he wasn't making it better.

"You made Quackity believe they ran away... Made Philza wake up every morning and walk through the SMP for any signs of them... Gave Puffy false information on where you have last seen them... lied to everyone... Only to be the reason that they were gone." Sam growled out, gripping his trident, "Then you proceeded to make them think we all forgot about them..."

"S-Sam... You've got this all wrong big man..." Tubbo tried next...

The warden wasn't listening as he pointed his trident at them, his communicator in his other hand next to his mouth, then he started speaking, causing his voice to come out of Ranboo's, Tubbo's and Tommy's pockets. He was speaking on the public channel.

"Tommy Innit, Tubbo Underscore, Ranboo Beloved... You are being placed in the prison, Pandora's Vault, for keeping (Y/n) (L/n) imprisoned in a bunker and lying about their whereabouts."

It felt like someone splashed you with cold water...

[argylesweedstash]

did you just call me baby

(ao3 link)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. At least, Dean’s banking on Castiel thinking it’s an accident. And it is, really. Dean fell onto the war room floor covered in black goo with his arms around Cas. Sam and Jack leapt up from the table, moving away from the intricate spellwork that no longer needed their attention.

Cas stirred a little. He’d been out of it when Dean had found him - half-lucid and mostly disbelieving. He’d let Dean pull him up and sling his arm around his shoulders, but hadn’t said much. Only mumbled apologies and words that sounded a lot like, “I hope this is real.”

Jack was first on the floor next to them. “Cas?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips. Cas nodded and within seconds, his arms were full of his son.

Dean watched them, a smile playing on his lips. When they broke apart, Sam offered Castiel his arm. Cas had looked at it before taking it and being pulled into a hug by the taller man.

Dean removed himself from the floor and helped Jack up. When Sam released Cas, Dean stepped in front of him.

“It’s real,” Dean said, looking into Cas’s eyes.

Cas nodded. “Thank you for saving me, Dean.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them and pulled Cas into a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you, baby,” Dean muttered against Cas. When he realized that he’d said baby instead of buddy, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He removed himself from Cas and grinned sheepishly at the floor. There was a weird fluttering feeling in his chest. He wrote it off as the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins.

Cas, for what it was worth, didn’t seem to notice the word. “I missed you, too, Dean.”

-

That was two weeks ago. Since then, Dean has been avoiding talking about it. Not just his slip, though, the things Cas had said to him before The Empty came and took him. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t feel the same way - he just didn’t know if he did or not. He likes Cas and he’s his best friend. He knows he likes spending time with him. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by how fond of his friend he is, but he doesn’t read too far into that.

Plus, things hadn’t changed between them. They still watched movies together in the Dean Cave a couple nights a week. Castiel would always come and join Dean in the garage when he was working on any of the cars they kept. Dean would greet him with a, “Good morning, Sunshine,” every morning from his place at the table. The only thing that had changed was that they didn’t have the end of the world looming over their heads. Honestly, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Getting Cas back meant that they’d tied up their loose ends and now they could relax. Of course Dean had never felt this happy, they’d never so resolutely saved the world like they did this time around.

Dean is sitting at the table, now, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. There were still monsters, there might still be a case somewhere. In the back of his head Dean knows he doesn’t really want to find a case. He’s been enjoying his time with Cas and Sam. He likes that the most pressing thing he has to worry about is whether or not the fridge is stocked. He knows Sam has been getting stir crazy, though. Maybe he’ll find a case and send Sam off, encourage him to get Eileen in on it.

The sound of footsteps draws Dean’s attention away from the laptop. Castiel pads into the room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s hand-me-down shirts, even though he hasvclothing of his own. Part of pulling Cas out of The Empty meant leaving his grace behind. Jack had been pretty clear - Cas’s grace was the reason Jack was unable to just pull him out. So, here Cas is, as human as Dean, wearing Dean’s shirt. A smile threatens to break on Dean’s face.

“What’re you up to?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. Dean notices toothpaste stuck to the corner of Cas’s mouth, he must have just finished brushing his teeth.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Cas says. “I was going to make myself something. Are you hungry? I can make enough for two.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just ate,” he says. “You, uh -” He gestures vaguely at Cas’s mouth.

“I what?” Cas asks, tilting his head a little.

“Baby,” Dean starts as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Castiel. “You have some toothpaste. Right there.”

Cas stares at Dean, wide eyed. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and grabs a napkin from the table. He wipes at Castiel’s mouth before he crumples the napkin and walks it over to the trash. Cas watches his movements.

“What?” Dean asks when he notices Cas staring at him. It’s not that he minds, Cas just looks a little lost.

Cas just shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. “Nothing. Thank you, Dean. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s part of being human, man. No worries,” Dean says, depositing himself back in his chair. “You gonna eat in here?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, finally moving from where he was stopped.

Dean nods in his direction before he pats the chair next to him, smiling up at his friend. He returns to his research as Cas busies himself in the kitchen.

-

Two days later, Sam is gone to go after a nest of vamps and Eileen’s place just happens to be on the way there. Dean isn’t quite sure why Sam hasn’t just asked her to move in. He’s pretty sure Sam had refrained before because Dean had been a wreck with Cas gone. It was probably better for Dean and Eileen’s relationship that she hadn’t seen him like that. But now, there was no reason for her not to be here. She was family, after all.

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, ending his stream of thoughts. Dean was kind of bored and he hadn’t taken Cas anywhere but the supermarket since they’d brought him back. And, come to think of it, Dean couldn’t remember the last time just he and Cas had gone out for drinks.

Cas answers the door already dressed. “Dean. I was actually coming to look for you.”

“Well, I found ya first,” Dean says, putting an easy smile on his face. “Was gonna see if you wanted to come grab a drink with me. Looks like you’re going somewhere, though.” He didn’t want to press, but where on earth could Cas be going? It wasn’t like he really knew anyone around here outside of Sam and Dean. And if someone they knew was in town, why hadn’t Dean heard of it?

The ends of Cas’s lips turn up slightly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and beams at Castiel. “It’s a date, then. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at Baby.”

Cas nods at Dean’s retreating figure and mumbles, “It’s a date,” before shutting his door to walk to the car.

Dean meets him there a few minutes later. “Had to grab my keys,” he says, holding them up for Cas to see.

The drive to the bar passes in comfortable silence, Cas staring out the window at the passing buildings. Dean drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He glances to Cas a few times; he almost can’t believe Cas is really back. He’d been gone for two months. Dean had spent most of that time frantically reading through every lore book and the rest drinking until he couldn’t remember the pain. It had been Jack that finally suggested opening the rift and leaving Cas’s grace behind. Dean had been ready to go almost immediately.

Now that Castiel was back, Dean felt better than he had in years. A warm feeling had settled over him after they fell through the rift and it stayed around. Whenever he was with Cas he could only describe the we he felt as “content.” Like now, for example, he could drive all night like this and be pleased with the way he spent his evening.

They pull in and Dean holds the door to the bar open so Cas can walk through. “Grab us a table and I’ll get drinks,” he says, clapping his hand over his shoulder and walking past him to the bar.

He gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. “Hey, Lynn. Slow night?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes at him and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. “It’s a Wednesday, what do you expect?” She gives a little chuckle and leans against the bar. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sammy’s with his girlfriend. Won’t be back for a few days,” Dean says easily. “Left me alone with Cas over there.”

Lynn looks past him at Castiel, who is seated at a booth in the corner. He’s looking around the mostly empty bar, seemingly taking in the neon signs advertising different kinds of alcohol. He’s wearing one of Dean’s flannels, Dean realizes belatedly.

“He’s cute,” Lynn says. She turns her attention back to the man in front of her. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two beers,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “And two shots of your top shelf whiskey.”

She grins. “Celebrating something?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Dean says. “He, uh.” He looks for the words. “Just got back from a work trip. Gone for a couple of months.” That sounds like a good cover.

“I bet he’s happy to be home,” Lynn says, setting the beers in front of Dean before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind her. “You seem happy that he’s back.”

It’s Dean’s turn to grin. “I’m freaking thrilled. Dude’s my best friend.”

Lynn slides the now filled shot glasses toward Dean. “Want a tray to carry all that?”

Dean doesn’t get to answer before she’s sliding a tray toward him. “You need a tray,” she says, putting the drinks onto it. “I know you were going to try to carry all this over there without one.”

Dean thanks her and slides the tray onto his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. He turns toward the booth Cas is in and flashes him a smile while he lifts the tray slightly, indicating the beverages.

“That my shirt?” he says when he gets to the table. He sets a beer and a shot down in front of Cas.

Cas looks down at the flannel and then back at Dean in a way Dean can only describe as bashful. “Yes. It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I can return it, if you want.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” Dean picks his shot up and motions for Cas to do the same. “We’re celebrating, Cas.”

Cas picks up his shot and looks at Dean curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“You’re back!”

Cas smiles warmly. “I am,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, Sam and Jack helped,” Dean says, grinning.

“To humanity,” Cas says, raising the shot.

“To humanity,” Dean echos before taking the shot.

Cas makes a face after he downs his and raises his beer to his lips to chase the taste away.

“You’ve not had a drink since you got back,” Dean remarks, watching Cas take a few long drinks from the bottle.

“You haven’t either,” he replies.

Dean contemplates the statement. “Really?” He takes a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

They both know that isn’t really true. Dean’s only been engaging in leisurely activities, he’s just not been drinking during them. He wonders for a moment why that might be. It’s probably because he doesn’t have any pain he needs to ignore, he thinks.

“Your tolerance is going to be shit.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m a cheap date.”

Dean looks at him for a moment before laughing. Cas gives him a genuine smile before returning to his beer.

Several beers later, Dean cuts himself off. Someone has to drive home and Cas is more than a little giggly on the bench across from him. He takes a sip of his third beer and gives Dean a measured look.

“What?” Dean asks, putting a soft smile on his face. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean grins back at him. There’s a tug somewhere in his chest, but he ignores it. “Anything on your mind?”

Cas just looks at Dean, clearly deep in thought. “Not really, no.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Want another?”

Cas’s beer is still half full. “Another what?”

“Another drink. Or another shot.”

“Another shot might be nice, actually.”

Dean smiles at him. “That’s my boy. I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the bar and waits for Lynn to walk over to him.

“Two more?” she asks.

“Just another shot,” Dean says. “I’m driving but huggy bear over there can have whatever he wants.”

Lynn shakes her head and pours another. “You two been together long? I haven’t seen him in here.”

Dean blinks back at her and then looks down at the shot. “Actually we, uh, we haven’t talked about… that. Being together.”

She frowns at Dean and he takes a breath. He hadn’t been avoiding it, really. He and Cas had just fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?” Lynn asks. She looks a little sad now.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Dean says thoughtfully.

“You should tell him.”

Dean looks up at her.

“Not tonight, though. He should probably be sober.”

Dean nods and grabs the shot. “Thanks, Lynn.”

He sets the shot down across from Cas when he gets back to the table. “For you.”

Cas downs the shot as Dean settles back down across from him. “What were you two talking about?”

Dean stares at Cas. He knows he shouldn’t lie but if he says anything Cas may actually want to talk about his feelings and Dean isn’t ready for that. He doesn’t really have words and he’s not even sure he’s fully processed Cas’s confession yet. And, Lynn was probably right. Cas should be sober for that particular conversation.

“Sam,” Dean lies easily. “This is where we come for drinks. Neither of us have been by in a while.”

Cas accepts the lie and sips from his beer before starting a conversation about Jack and the prospect of weekly family dinners.

By the time Cas had finished his beer the shot he’d taken seems to hit him. “Dean.”

“Cas.”

“I’d like another shot.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can get it.”

Cas frowns at Dean before swinging his legs to the end of the booth to pull himself out. He pushes himself up on the table and wobbles a little before Dean is up and at his side, steadying him.

“When you don’t stand it hits you all at once,” Dean explains. He’s gripping Cas’s bicep and shoulder.

“I know how drinking works, Dean. I spend all my time with you.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “How about we get you home?”

“Can I drink there?”

Dean turns Cas to face him fully. “Hell yeah, you can.”

“You’ll be drinking, too?”

“Well, yeah. I won’t have to drive us anywhere. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Dean walks Cas to the Impala and deposits him in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be right back, baby. I have to pay the tab.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment before opening and promptly closing his mouth.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you hurl. And I’ll get a bag from Lynn.”

Dean returns to see Cas has closed the door and is currently slumped against it, sleeping. He rolls his eyes and drives him home, careful to avoid the bumps on the road. When they get home, he shakes Cas awake.

“‘Morning, Sunshine.”

“It’s not morning, Dean,” Cas replies groggily.

“Nope,” Dean says, leaning over to pull Cas out of the car. “Let’s get you to your room.”

They make their way through the bunker slowly. Dean sits Cas down and gets him out of his shoes and, after a brief moment of hesitation, his jeans. Once he’s gotten Cas under the blankets, he gets a glass of water from the kitchen and a few tylenol from the bottle he has stashed in his room.

“Alright,” he says, setting everything down on Cas’s night stand. “Take the tylenol when you wake up. You’re probably going to be hungover. And drink some water, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” says the Cas sized lump under the covers.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

Dean turns to leave but Cas makes a noise. Dean turns back around.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had fun.”

Dean smiles. “I had fun, too. Get some sleep, baby.”

He flicks out Cas’s lights and reminds himself to stop calling Cas buddy. The dude loves him and Dean’s probably making it hurt or something. Plus, he’d accidentally called him baby when he’d first gotten back from The Empty. Dean’s probably sending him mixed signals. He shuts the door behind him and walks to his room; he knows he should probably figure out what to say to Cas. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that meant poking at that warm, fluttery feeling that seemed to be permanently in his chest.

-

Sam returns from the hunt a week later. He assures Dean it was an easy hunt and that he and Eileen hadn’t needed any help. He also admits to spending a few days with Eileen after they’d taken out the nest.

“How is she, anyway?” Dean asks, handing a beer to Sam and setting one on the end table next to Cas. They’d been watching old western’s in the Dean Cave when Sam got home. Cas had wanted to spend the day watching movies and Dean had agreed on the condition that he got to pick the movie.

“She’s good. She misses you two,” Sam answers.

“Tell her to get her ass out here,” Dean says. “She’s family at this point, man. She should be here, anyway. It would make hunts easier.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s the first hunt I’ve been on since we beat Chuck. You still haven’t been out.”

“Hey, I’m keeping Cas company. He’s still newly human,” Dean argues.

“You could go hunt if you want, Dean. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind,” Cas says from the couch. Dean looks over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, you’ve been back less than a month. We gotta make sure you have your sea legs before I go anywhere, baby.”

The words left his mouth effortlessly. Sam and Cas just stared at him for a second before Sam coughed.

“It’s great seeing you guys but I’m going to go shower and pass out for a few hours,” he says before making a quick exit toward his room.

“Fine, Sammy. We didn’t want to hang out with you, anyway,” Dean shoots back before collapsing onto his side of the couch.

He hits play on the movie and settles in. He has his own bottle of beer pressed to his lips when Cas speaks.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he replies, lowering the bottle from his lips.

Cas is quiet for a moment. “Why do you keep calling me ‘baby’?” he asks carefully.

Dean stares back at him. “I only called you that once,” he says, on guard now. Had it slipped out again? He didn’t think it had but now he’s not so confident. He sets his beer bottle down.

“No, you’ve done it five times.” So, it had slipped out again. More than once. “You did just now before Sam left.”

Dean is silent, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even realized it had come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally decides, lowering his gaze from Cas’s stare for a brief moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Cas says quietly. He’s looking somewhere to the left of Dean, his eyes occasionally flickering to Dean’s face. “I thought you were doing it on purpose, is all.”

Dean can’t seem to form a fully coherent thought. He knows he needs to say something - mention Cas’s confession, maybe. But he doesn’t have the words for that yet. Instead he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to do it on purpose,” Cas says, looking down. Dean can see the beginnings of pink on the top of his ears. He’s overwhelmed with an ache somewhere in his chest.

Dean doesn’t know why, but he slides in close to Cas. He reaches his hand out and lifts his chin so their eyes meet. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, softly. The fluttering in his chest is more insistent now.

He hears Cas’s breath hitch. Cas closes and opens his eyes before saying. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his hand still resting on Cas’s chin.

“Will you kiss me?”

Before Dean registers what he’s doing, he nods and ducks his head in. The kiss is chaste and quick but Cas leans in and responds gently. When they break, there’s a soft smile on Cas’s face.

“Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand to Cas’s cheek. “I, uh. I need to talk to you about. About what you said. Before you… Ya know.”

“When I told you I loved you?” Cas supplies, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah,” Dean says, chuckling lightly. “I. I think I do, too. I just haven’t -”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. You know that.”

Dean brings his mouth gently back to Cas’s and kisses him again. This time just a little longer, his other hand finding Cas’s waist.

“It was just so easy when you got back,” Dean says when he pulls away. He tries to find any string of words that expresses how he feels. “I didn’t think I needed to say anything but…”

Cas stares at Dean, encouraging him to keep going. Dean can feel his face heating up.

“Lynn asked how long we’d been together,” he says, lamely. “The bartender,” he adds.

“I didn’t get to meet her but I remember her name.”

Dean smiles at him and takes a breath before speaking. “And I told her we hadn’t talked about it. And she looked really sad. I realized I do need to say something.”

They’re silent for a moment and then Dean says. “Holy shit. That was a date.”

Cas looks confused. “You told me it was a date.”

“I did?”

“Yes. When I said yes to going with you, you said ‘it’s a date.’” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s… It’s an expression, Cas,” he says. Then, “But, uh, that was a date. I think.”

“Dean. Did you want it to be a date?” Cas asks. His voice is lined with both patience and amusement.

Dean pauses for a minute before saying, “Yeah. That was our first date.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Cas’s mouth.

Cas kisses back and then pulls away a little. “Would you like to go on a second date?”

Dean makes a show of thinking. He hums lightly.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I do,” he places a kiss on the side of Cas’s mouth before he drops his hand. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to say but… You can have me, if you want. You’re just going to have to work with me. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cas says.

Dean places a kiss on Cas’s cheek before he turns back to the TV and starts the movie. Cas reaches across to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers in the space between them.

“Hey, baby?”

Cas’s head pops up in response to the pet name, there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

Cas beams at him before replying, “I love you, too.”

Dean turns his head back toward the TV but spends a better part of the rest of the movie sneaking glances at Cas. He indulges the warm feeling in his chest, even if he doesn’t quite have the words for everything yet.

[dongofthewolf]

Hello! May I request a number 8 or number 11? She/her pronouns are preferred :) thx!!

I Despise That I Adore You

Abby Anderson X Reader

Prompt: 8. Hands brushing unexpectedly 11. Secret relationship

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: I kind of decided last minute to write like 1.5k more words for this fic because uhhhh idk but I hope you enjoy (especially if you requested it) !!

A/N: I also didn’t realize you only requested one of the two prompts so I accidentally wrote both LOL but thanks for the request(s) !!

You have always had a very dichotomous view on life; you believed that you either liked a person, or you didn’t. It was a simple notion and a digestible one at that, but never did you think that a touch—a single accidental touch from someone you most definitely didn’t like, could wreck your world this way. 

You were at a briefing for an upcoming mission. It was a long, drawn out process that you dreaded, but what made it even worse was Abby. Okay, maybe not Abby specifically, but the fact that she could sit there at six in the morning and look so effortlessly beautiful, annoyed you more than you could say. Her outfit was the same as it almost always was; a simple grey tank top with green cargo pants and boots. Nothing extraordinary or outstanding, but you still couldn’t help but find it annoyingly attractive when she crossed her fucking enormous arms over her chest like that. God, she wasn’t even trying and you were losing it.

You didn’t like Abby—you couldn’t like her. How could you possibly like her when every single sign told you not to? She was stubborn and closed off, always shielding herself from the world with some serious facade you knew was bullshit. Maybe Abby did flirt with you occasionally and perhaps you did participate in it sometimes, but that all meant nothing. And anyways, even if you did like Abby (which you obviously didn’t) it would hurt you too much when she inevitably left you for someone prettier or cooler or smarter, and you didn’t need that right now.

Abby was all types of wrong and you knew that, which is why you were so utterly puzzled by this small, electric touch. It wasn’t even longer than a second, but as soon as it happened your heart felt like it had just been squeezed like a fucking lemon.

The briefing was finally over and you were quick to leave so you could actually get some sustenance for your body, and then it happened. You hadn’t even noticed that Abby was there when you dashed out the small exit of the military tent until you felt the smallest brush of her hand against yours. You paused to look back at Abby and she was looking at you too, and you swear it would’ve taken a damn machete to cut through the tension between those few, fleeting seconds of stillness. 

Your hand burned from where it had grazed Abby’s and you clenched your fingers into a fist to try and relieve yourself from the sensation. Promptly shoving your hand behind your back to hide it from Abby’s inquisitive gaze, you slowly backed away with your eyes still fixed to hers. And though there was a great amount of distance between the two of you, you noticed something in her stare. You weren’t sure if it was just your brain being stupid or manipulative, but you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest hint of endearment in Abby’s eyes. 

You tried to back away quicker but nearly fell over because of a stray root in the ground that you definitely weren’t looking at, and you could see Abby snort as she tried to hold back her laughter. Smiling nervously, you turned around and bolted towards the cafeteria. It was way too early for this.

Hoping to find some solace in a burrito, you practically ran to the cafeteria, but before you could even smell that lovely tortilla blanket, someone caught you. Abby was breathing slightly heavier than usual when she pulled you aside, practically trapping you against the wall behind you.

“Why are you running from me?” 

Abby’s arm was leaning on the wall next to your head and it took every ounce of willpower not to stare at her massive biceps. “I’m not running from you.”

“Um, I think the fact that I literally just sprinted after you, says something slightly different.” Abby used her other hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “So are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to run again?” 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Talk about what?”

Abby gestured her hands awkwardly between the two of you. “Us—this. Whatever this is.”

“Abby, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.” You ducked under Abby’s arm and began walking away but her next words stopped you in your tracks.

“I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” Abby was pacing now, her hands moving wildly as she spoke. “It’s like… sometimes you’re cold and distant and running away from me, and I just kind of accept it. I mean, even though it’s not like I’ve ever done anything to make you hate me this much, it obviously won’t help my situation if I continue to flirt with you. But then the next day I’ll catch you looking at me in that way and-”

“In what way?” You interrupted.

“Seriously?” Abby cocked her eyebrow, her mouth curled into an annoyed smirk as she rolled her eyes. “You look at me like you’re not sure whether you want to pounce me or punch me in the face.” 

She said it so plainly that you were speechless for a second, was it seriously that obvious? There was so much going through your head right now, but the one thing that stuck with you was the fact that you agreed with her. Though it’s not like you could ever admit it, so instead you opted for some good ol’ denial. “I do not.”

Abby was quick to respond, like she had anticipated your answer. “You do, and you know what? I honestly have no problem with it. In fact, I encourage it! I mean if you weren’t so confusing, I’d have asked you out by now. You’re gorgeous and smart and a major badass on the field, but I just have no idea what you want from me.”

The last sentence threw you for a loop and before you knew it, your heart was doing the squeezing thing again. Did she truly think you were all those things? 

Thinking about it, perhaps your problem wasn’t that you hated Abby. After all, it’s not like the reasons you disliked her were of any merit anyways. In fact, you kind of admired Abby when she wasn’t being a cocky bastard, but that still didn’t mean you could date her. Sure, she was kind of hot, and maybe you found her just the slightest bit charming, but you couldn’t possibly put yourself on the spot like that. Not only was she all types of wrong, Abby was also your superior, and Lord knows the scandal that dating her would transpire. 

Finally finding some semblance of composure, you spoke hesitantly. “Abby you’re my superior and if people found out I- we just can’t, okay? I’m sorry.” You internally cringed at your words. It was such a stupid excuse but you still couldn’t help but fear the backlash you would receive for this. 

Abby took a second to think before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?” 

You didn’t say anything, just nodded your head slightly.

“Do you like me?” Abby’s eyes were sort of wide and almost hopeful, and you felt a slight tinge of remorse because you weren’t sure you could give her an answer. It was a simple question, but something inside you just couldn’t manage to form a proper response. 

“Whether I like you or not doesn’t matter Abby, we can’t be together. I’ve worked so hard to get here and I’m not going to be belittled or ridiculed because I can’t keep my emotions in check.” 

“So what you’re saying is… there are emotions to keep in check?” There was a hint of mischief in her tone and a smile on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever groaned so loudly.

“I did not say that.”

“It was implied.”

Abby chuckled to herself, taking a step towards you with every punctuated word. “Okay, let’s say that hypothetically you do have feelings for me, and that hypothetically I could make sure no one knew we were dating. Would you go out with me then?

You scoffed as you took a step towards her, your bodies now just inches from each other. “Oh yeah? And hypothetically, how would you do that?” 

“It's simple, we date in secret.” Abby said it so nonchalantly that you thought she was joking. It took a few moments of awkward silence before you realized that she was serious.

“You’re kidding? That would never work.”

“Um first of all, I’m always serious, and second of all, did you forget that we are literally trained to be stealthy? I think if we can handle clickers, we can handle a secret relationship. Honestly Y/N, it seems like the only problem here is that you’re scared of going out with me because…” Abby took another step towards you, backing you against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “you’re afraid you’ll fall for me.”

You were utterly speechless. You wanted so badly to respond with a snarky comeback or a cheap insult, but as much as you hated to admit it, you were totally afraid of going out with her. Commitment is horrifying and complicated and you’ve gone your whole life trying to avoid it. But now? Abby was offering you a simple solution and before your mind could begin to consider the downsides to this, you answered.

“Fine. But if we get caught, it’s on you.”

And just like that, your secret relationship with Abby began. 

--

It only took the first two dates for you to warm up to Abby—though you were incredibly apprehensive about all of it at first—it wasn't long before she had successfully charmed her way to your heart. And though you’d never admit it out loud, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t having at least a little bit of fun. It was thrilling running around with Abby like this; late-night dates, stolen looks during briefings, clandestine touches while passing each other in the halls, the way she seemed to be just a little bit more protective of you during patrols. You revelled in the way she held you when no one was around, when it was just the two of you. 

It had almost been two months, and hiding a secret relationship with Abby was getting surprisingly more difficult. You figured it was likely a product of the fact that after your first kiss, Abby couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of you. It seemed as though someone was somehow lurking around every corner of this damn stadium, and the amount of times Abby had to sneak out of your room in the morning before your roommate woke up was honestly getting kind of absurd. 

However, one major upside that’s come out of this deal is that you no longer despised briefings. In fact—now that you and Abby had this strange arrangement—you almost looked forward to mission briefings. The fondness for them was partly because you got to stare at Abby with adoration rather than anger, but mostly it was because you got to tease her like there was no tomorrow during them.

It was another early briefing and Isaac was droning on about… patrols? Or maybe it was borders, you weren’t really sure. Instead of focusing on his dull rambles, your mind was wandering elsewhere. 

Abby was sitting in the seat next to you, her legs spread out while she leaned her toned forearms on the table in front of her. Keeping your eyes focused on Isaac, you brushed your knee against Abby’s just slightly before letting your hand slowly creep closer to her leg. Abby immediately knew what you were doing, quickly turning her attention towards you with a small tilt of her head. And though your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, you knew she had a cautious look on her face. 

A small smirk crept onto your lips as you let your hands make their way higher and higher till it was resting on her thigh. Letting it linger there, you traced little circles with your fingers, noting the way Abby covered her face with her hand to hide her expression before you gave her leg the smallest squeeze. Abby jumped in her seat and the whole room immediately turned their attention to her. Trying to hide her obvious freak-out Abby cleared her throat before asking some stupid question about intercepting the target while you did your best not to laugh next to her. When she finally finished rambling and the focus was off of her, Abby snuck you the smallest look, the kind of look that said “I’m totally going to get you for that later”. 

At the end of the briefing, you noticed Abby making conversation with Manny near the exit of the military tent and an idea popped into your head. You made sure to look straight ahead as you nonchalantly walked out the exit before letting your hand brush up against Abby’s while you passed by. It still shocked you sometimes; somehow after nearly two months of hiding your relationship, her touch still managed to send you soaring. The familiar burn against your fingertips from your not-so-accidental accidental touch still lingering on your hand like an imprint—her imprint. 

You looked back at her with a mischievous smirk on her face and she rolled her eyes before whispering something to Manny. Walking away knowingly, you were unsurprised when she cornered you behind a cement pillar with her hands on your hips and her mouth hungrily on yours. Abby spoke with her mouth still against yours, refusing to break the kiss.

“You know, for someone who was so adamant about having a secret relationship, you sure seem to enjoy attracting attention to us.”

You smiled into the kiss, your fingers moving to play with the end of her braid before giving it the smallest tug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Abby groaned and you chuckled at her expression when you pulled away from her lips, causing Abby to nearly face-plant into the pillar behind you. You giggled, smiling at Abby teasingly before feigning an annoyed tone as you turned away from her with your arms crossed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.” 

[ratmonky]

Blockbuster

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: dub-con, obsession

AO3 Link

“This week’s movie is…” you paused for the dramatic effect and met each one of your club members’ eyes before pulling out the DVD case from your bag. “Sweet Blossoms!”

Everyone groaned.

“Hey!” you laughed, putting the movie down on the desk. A gorgeous smile tugged at your lips. “It’s my turn so I get to choose!”

“You always choose the worst ones,” your classmate mumbled. “I’m sick of watching romantic comedies. Besides, this is one of the last times we’ll watch a movie in our club.”

Yeah, the graduation was close.

You pouted, giving one person, in particular, the puppy eyes. “Junpei,” you said. “Tell them something, you’re the president.”

Junpei chuckled nervously when you put him on the spot like that. “Haha, I… We made a promise to let one of us choose a movie each week, we should keep our promise.”

“I’m not watching that,” the other club member said. “We’re here to watch movies we appreciate, not whatever dumpster trash you like.”

Although the other two members were being mean, they were right.

“Guys,” Junpei was unsure to say something. He could see how your smile vanished, your shoulders slackened as you flipped the DVD to its back so you wouldn’t need to see the cover title. “It’s her turn to choose.”

“Nevermind,” you uttered, putting the DVD back in your bag. “They’re right. I was being selfish. You can skip my turn.”

“But-”

“Great! I rented Pulp Fiction yesterday and brought it with me.” Your classmate dove his hand inside his bag to fish out the DVD.

Junpei noticed the way your lower lip trembled and you pressing your lips together to hide it. When your gaze met him, you forced a smile on your face, mouthing that it was alright.

You were just like him.

He got up from his seat to sit next to you as your classmate put the movie in the DVD player. It was nothing unusual, most of you sat together to make small comments during a movie.

You pushed your stuff on the desk to the side so he could have some space to put his bag.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the movie had already started.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” you softly stated, leaning closer to keep your voice down and not disturb the movie. “It was my fault.”

“Still, we gather here to watch movies our members enjoyed. We’re not actual film critics or anything.” He was trying not to lower his gaze to your chest. One of the buttons had come undone on your shirt, he could see your bra. “Next week is my turn, I can rent the movie you wanted to watch so we can watch it. They won’t complain then.”

Your eyes widened and he could swear that he saw them sparkle. A second later, you dropped your gaze to your lap to fidget with your fingers. “Nevermind, it’ll cause trouble. It’s passive-aggressive and I don’t wanna cause trouble for anyone. Nobody wanna watch the movie I chose anyway.”

“I do,” he whispered, cheeks flushing. While you weren’t looking he had gotten a chance to peek inside your shirt.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him with the prettiest and the most genuine smile he had ever seen. “Really?”

He nodded in affirmation, “We can watch it together after school if y-you wanna.”

“Shh!” The oldest club member turned and pointed two fingers at you and then to his eyes. “No flirting in the losers club.”

Both of you got quiet and it took you a long moment before leaning closer to tell Junpei something.

“So, where will we watch the movie?”

That was how he ended up bringing you to his place. You awkwardly sat on his bed and he tried to stop his shaking hands.

“I wish I had a television in my room too,” you said, starting a conversation to ease the mood. “You’re so lucky, Jun!”

Calling him nicknames like that… you were trying to make him delirious. “I-it’s nothing, it’s some old thing I got from second hand.”

“Still!”

He heard a rustling sound. Once he was done with putting the movie in the DVD player, he whipped his head around to check what you were doing.

His breathing almost stopped when he saw you laying on his bed and checking your phone. You were moving your legs up on the air as you scrolled down some social media platform. Your skirt wasn’t long enough to cover the supple flesh of your thighs, they were squished together and because you were laying on your chest, the skirt’s fabric was relaxed on your ass, leaving not much to the imagination.

Junpei gulped audibly and averted his gaze. “The movie.” That was all he managed to say.

You hummed and sat up on his bed as he took a place next to you. He couldn’t understand why you were so careless, didn’t you think of him as a man?

No, you were purely naive. Not at all aware of the real dangers of the world. Not at all aware of what kind of thoughts about you went through his mind every single day.

The movie opened with the female lead who from her first appearance stated that she was the manic pixie dream girl getting some flowers from a secret admirer despite having a boyfriend.

It was simply trash. That was the only way he could describe the storyline or the mood of the movie.  On his own, under any condition, Junpei wouldn’t pick this garbage up and sit through it but since you wanted to watch it… he had to endure it.

You, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the movie. Hands on your lap, gasping every now and then when the male lead encouraged the female lead to dump her boyfriend with his shitty compliments.

He found it kind of amusing to watch you react to the movie rather than watch it himself. Soon enough his gaze dropped to your lap. Under the skirt were your bare legs and you were sitting on his bed. Your ass was placed on his bed. The thought of your panties touching the sheets of his bed made his thoughts go south. If you got wet right now, you could soak his sheets.

Slowly, you shifted on his bed, getting in a more comfortable position to watch the movie. Unbeknownst to you, he had a better view of your cleavage now, it was only natural that he couldn’t look away. As vulnerable you were, he was still a man and like any other man, Junpei couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing.

What color panties were you wearing? If he lifted your skirt up to check, would you be surprised? You wouldn’t push him away, that was for sure. You came here all on your own after all, laying on his bed like that and looking like this… There was no doubt you were basically inviting him to fuck you.

The credits rolled sooner than he would have wanted.

You stretched your arms over your head and let out a soft groan. “Thank you, Jun.”

“For what?” He got up from his bed to take the DVD out from the player.

“For watching this with me. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you!” A friend, huh? He thought of you more than a friend but you were probably playing hard to get. The two of you were the same, you just had to be embarrassed to admit your feelings for him. Yeah, that had to be it.

“I liked the movie.” Liar. He didn’t watch it.

Silence.

“I should get going,” you sighed, retrieving your bag and jacket from the floor.

By the time you stood up, Junpei was holding the DVD case towards you. “I hope you had fun.”

“I did.” You smiled, taking it from him. “Thank you again.”

Junpei was languidly nodding, lost in his own thoughts.

As soon as you left his room and apartment, Junpei hurried back to his room. Getting on his knees, he pressed his face into the exact spot you sat on for two full hours. He took a deep inhale, filling his lungs to their limit.

So this was your scent.

Unbuckling his belt, he kept inhaling the smell of your pussy absorbed on his sheets. He was already impossibly hard, if it weren’t for the way he was slouching when you were beside him, you would definitely notice.

His hand wrapped around his cock and he stroked it from the base to the tip, using your smell and his own fantasies about you as his material for today.

Oh, how he wished he could smell you directly.

~~~

The next day, he couldn’t look you in the eye during the club meeting to talk about the movie everyone watched yesterday.

While you were debating with the two other members about how although the cinematography and the dialogue were great you didn’t enjoy the excessive amount of cursing.

“You just don’t understand cinema,” one of them grumbled.

“Couldn’t agree more, I mean… Do you even watch anything other than your weird romance movies?” The other one grinned.

“Let’s not take it too far,” Junpei mumbled, his words went unheard.

“I didn’t say anything bad about the movie,” you argued. “It was well written but the dialogue was too vulgar for my taste.”

“And since when do you have taste?”

Laughter.

“Yeah, she’s such a scatterbrained normie.”

“Guys.” Junpei stood up on his seat to stop the hassle.

“At least I’m not a pathetic loser.” It slipped. As if you had been wanting to say it out loud for so long. “You know that this is why nobody likes any of you, right?”

It became silent.

Junpei sat back on his chair and the other two who had been grinning from ear to ear as they were teasing you frowned.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, realizing what you had said but the deed was done.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, you gathered your stuff and left the clubroom.

~~~

Getting bullied wasn’t the worst part. It was the way other people treated him because he was getting bullied.

People looked at him with pity, sometimes talked to him because they wanted to include him. They were all doing these things to feel better about themselves. It was never about him.

He could let the cigarette burns, all the times he got beaten and the countless lies others spread about him slip but not the fake kindness.

He hated the fakes.

~~~

It was two days after the incident when you finally decided to approach Junpei before he exited the school garden.

“Hey, Jun.”

A shiver rose up his spine and he stopped walking momentarily. “(name), good to see you.” He turned around to face you but you were looking down onto the pavement. You didn’t want to look him in the face.

“Yeah...” You took a deep breath to calm your senses before speaking. “I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn’t mean any of the things I said.”

He said nothing.

“I’m really sorry about it, I was being bitter because of the way they talked to me but I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

He proceeded to stay quiet, though you had a lot to say to him, it was impossible to find the courage or the words to speak when he was being like this. However, you came prepared for anything.

Reaching inside your bag, you pulled out a DVD case with a movie title Junpei had been looking forward to watching. You had heard him talk about it nonstop for months until it got released recently. He couldn’t get his hands on the DVD itself because of how the movie was always rented out but now, you were holding it.

“Wanna watch it together? My treat.”

How could he possibly say no?

“Okay.”

Your nerves eased when he put on a smile.

Thankfully, the walk to his place was short. In his room, you took off your jacket and grabbed the DVD case to put it on yourself. “I tipped the cashier a couple of extra bucks to get my hands on this,” you giggled and turned on his television with the remote control, the player lit up instantly.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, it’s just my way of apologizing, don’t sweat it!” Pressing the button for the disc slot, you opened the case to grab the CD. “Besides, I wanted to watch this for a long time too.”

He could tell you were lying but he wasn’t sure if you were trying to be nice to him out of pity or not. Gradually, he realized he couldn’t put you in a box. You two were alike. Exactly like him, you didn’t know where you fit in but he started to get an idea about where might fit in just fine.

As you were standing with the remote control in your hands and waiting for the movie title to show up on the screen, a set of hands were placed on your hips, making you flinch.

“Jun?”

Junpei couldn’t help but press himself against you, his hands on your hips moved to your stomach, and grabbed the remote control out of your grasp. He threw the device to the side.

“Jun?” you tried calling him again, not realizing he needed a hug this badly. “Are-are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, you felt him bury his face into your hair and heard him take a sniff. His hands moved in different ways. One slid up to cup your breast over your shirt and the other slid down your stomach.

“Um, if you wanna hug me, I can face you. This position is… weird....” You merely comprehended that he wasn’t hugging you when his hand soothed the fabric of your skirt and went under it to grab you by your pussy.

Your thighs pressed together at the same time a surprised gasp left your lips. His hand was pushing you towards him as he was pressing against you, urging you to feel everything.

“Wait,” you tried to say, but when his hips snapped forward it broke into another gasp. A finger pressed on your slit over the fabric of your panties, he dragged it up while his hand harshly groped your breast.

“W-what are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Junpei nosed some hair out of his way and placed his lips on your nape, grazing his lips on the sensitive skin before moving to kiss your neck. “I thought you were here to spend time with me.” His teeth nibbled on the thin flesh and your legs turned to jelly.

“B-but the movie.”

Hooking a finger under the elastic on the edge of your panties, he pulled them to the side and let his middle finger slip inside.

“We can watch it later.”

“Jun, wait.” You squirmed and tried to move away from his fingers but you were trapped. If you moved backward you were going to press harder against his erection and moving forward meant his finger going deeper inside you. The latter was the worst option, so you moved your hips away from his hand.

What you hadn’t calculated was the way you were rocking back on forth with Junpei as he was grinding his clothed cock against the soft flesh of your ass. When you pressed yourself against him harder, it didn’t leave any more space for you to move away from his fingers.

Thanks to your dumb decision, Junpei had you right where he wanted.

“You’re so cute, always trying to act smarter than you actually are,” he whispered, lips brushing against your neck. “When you left that day after we watched your stupid movie, I jerked off to you.”

His hand on your breast moved between your bodies and placed on the front of his pants. He tugged them down while drawing small circles on your neck with his tongue and two of his fingers thrust inside your slick heat.

“I shoved my nose into the exact spot you sat to inhale your scent.”

The revelation of what he did after you left made you tremble. His hot and wet tongue pressed flat against the side of your neck and his fingers moving in a scissoring motion distracted you from his free hand guiding his cock between your legs.

“From the moment we met, I knew we were made for each other, (name).”

Nevertheless the awkward positioning, he slipped his fingers out of you and moved to grab your leg from the back of your knee. He lifted your leg until his cock had enough space to move and his hips surged forward.

A panicked sound left your lips when his cock moved between your folds rather than going inside like he had planned.

Before you could struggle, he pulled his hips back and thrust forward, angling his hips in the right direction. This time, it was a success.

Both of you moaned in unison.

Junpei buried his face into your neck and groaned loudly to the sensation of your warm cunt. Your gummy walls were sucking him right in. He couldn’t help slamming his hips into your pussy with a little too much force. You shook in his arms, nearly losing your balance “J-Jun,” you breathed, tone faint. “T-the movie.”

“Is that what you really want right now?” he whispered into your ear, thrusting in your cunt agitatedly.

You wanted to say something and shove him away so the two of you could focus on the movie that was playing on the screen instead but his cock stroked a sweet spot inside made you melt in his hold. You moaned instead, giving him the answer he wanted to hear.

He picked up a pace to fuck into you in a smooth motion and roughly pound into your pussy to steal cute little moans out of you. He was too lost in pleasure to be able to think. All he wanted was to feel your pussy clench around his cock.

His kisses on your neck turned into biting and you felt him lift your leg higher, launching both of you forward when you lost your balance. You managed to hold onto the TV stand while Junpei didn’t let the small accident interrupt him.

Letting go of your leg, he placed his hand on your back and pushed until you arched your back.

Now, he could thrust deeper inside you. Almost frantically, he started hammering his cock into your pussy. The impact caused you to place both hands on the furniture in front of you and hold onto it for dear life. Your clenching walls around him felt heavenly, he couldn’t stop moving his hips.

A shaky moan escaped your lips when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. Your hands gripped the furniture and your toes curled at the sensation. At some point, your attention suddenly averted to Junpei’s wandering hands pulling your back flush against his chest as every thrust of his hips left you shaking and begging for more.

“J-Jun,” you whined.

He knew exactly what it meant. If he couldn’t tell from the neediness in your voice, he could tell it from the way your gummy walls started pulsating around his cock. Instead of picking up his pace and fucking you like an animal in heat like you thought he would do, Junpei tried to thrust deeper, stroking your sensitive spot with his cock until your vision turned white and you started rocking yourself back on Junpei’s cock. Only then his thrusts became harder, almost as if he wanted to claim you as his only.

“Can I do it inside?” Junpei didn’t need an answer but you gave him one anyway.

“Y-yeah.”

His pace suddenly slackened, he was close to his own orgasm. He pushed his cock in your pussy down to the base and you felt the slight twitch of his balls on your ass as thick spurts of seed filled your womb.

He lowly grunted, continuing to move his hips and fucking his seed into you with disgustingly wet sounds. Your legs started to shake under you, his hands on your hips were the only things keeping you standing up but once he let go of you, the support disappeared. You dropped on the floor, his cum oozed out of you and stained the carpet.

None of you said anything. Not when you were catching your breaths or when you were fixing your clothes.

It took you a full minute before you asked something so utterly idiotic. “Should I go home?”

At that exact moment, he understood why people enjoyed bullying others who were weaker than them.

“I thought you came here to watch the movie with me.” He dared to say.

You stared at him blankly, your gaze slowly turned to the movie that had been playing the whole time and a faint smile tugged at your lips as you reached for the remote control on the other side of the carpet to restart the movie.

~~~

In the next club meeting, Junpei brought the movie you had wanted to watch last week.

Although the other two groaned in unison, they sat through the entire movie once Junpei told them they owed you this.

As for you, watching the movie you had already seen a week ago was boring but the anticipation to watch another new release you had rented with Junpei after school was enough to keep you on the edge.

[slashbitch2]

i wanna hear you calling my name

kind of a continuation of this but it's not necessary to understand

Carla swore she never felt more at home than when she was at a party.

There was just something about the chaotic atmosphere that appealed to her. Perhaps it was the fact her friends would finally match her energy level, or the alcohol coursing through her system which made her feel anything was possible. Nonetheless, something insane would happen each time, giving her some unbelievable memories to figure out the next morning, and she was certain that tonight would be no exception to this usual routine. Hell, she'd been one of the organisers, so it was bound to be entertaining at least.

Actually, 'organiser' was a stretch. Kiki and Amy had done the majority of the groundwork; sending out invites, clearing space in the house and all the boring shit. Carla had done the alcohol run and bribed confirmed that the neighbours weren't going to file any noise complaints. Then, she'd set up the music and made one huge, fucking obnoxious banner reading 'Happy 2 Years Without the Wicked Bitch of McKinley!' which Amy made her later correct to 'Happy 2nd Anniversary as PTA President Amy Mitchell!' Although, on the few occasions that one of the guests complimented her handiwork, she informed them of the original design.

You see, her goal tonight was to make people laugh. She wanted, no, needed to get your attention somehow.

Speaking of, you always seemed to be at the centre of the party, constantly surrounded by an impenetrable group of friends. So it was almost impossible to get you to notice her antics- not that she was jealous or anything- Carla Dunkler didn't have enough interest to spare on anyone, regardless of how hot they were. Still, she couldn't help but glance at you every few minutes. It became an unofficial mission to catch you looking back and her. Though thus far she'd been failing miserably.

Deciding she needed to up her game, Carla downed the remainder of her drink, leaving the now empty cup behind as she marched towards the makeshift dancefloor that had formed.

"Scuse me." She shoved the first line of moms to the side (the morning joggers, so they didn't pose much of a challenge). "Coming through." Then ducked past the self-dubbed 'Karens', whom she didn't particularly want to disturb. Finally, all that remained was your group: the moms you wanna be, or fuck in this case.

"Sorry I just-" She was cut off as one of the more aggressive dancers nearly elbowed her in the face. "I just need to get through." Despite repeating with more volume, her request was equally unheard. The aggressive dancer (Lindsey, maybe?) suddenly swung her leg backwards in an obnoxiously violent move, nearly taking Carla out in the process.

Once she'd regained her balance, it became apparent that Lindsey was the weak link. She grabbed the woman's arm. "Move!" And tugged her back with the same aggression she'd been subjected to only moments ago.

Lindsey stumbled back, lost her footing and fell straight into the Karens- so she was likely screwed. But whatever fate had in store for her was inconsequential since her expulsion cleared space for her to infiltrate your group. She stepped forward into the gap with her eyes fixed on the floor, careful not to tread on anyone's toes. She'd come so far, being kicked out simply wasn't an option.

"Hey!" A friendly voice convinced her to look up. It was you. "Carla, right?" Your face was flushed from both alcohol and the heat of the party, which on most people would look pretty unappealing, but on you it had the opposite effect.

"Yeah, that's me." She flipped her hair over her shoulders, this part was her specialty. "Dance with me?" She asked, or rather stated.

"Sure!" With drunk confidence, one of your hands sought out Carla's, immediately pulling her into the middle of the group. There wasn't much space, but that could only work in her favour.

Unsurprisingly, the confidence carried over into your dancing, though it was anything but unwarranted. You swayed your hips in time with the music, the movement travelling up through the rest of your body, and admittedly, you were a damn good dancer. Carla even found herself repeatedly distracted, forgetting that she was meant to be seducing you, not the other way around.

Another mom bumped into her which she took as an excuse to move closer. At that point you were spinning round, but feeling her close the distance, you decided to stop when your back pressed against her front. Carla's breath was stolen from her as you started grinding. There was barely any distance between you. With each inhale she could smell your perfume, and with each exhale, her breath mingled with yours. It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. She loved it.

Her hands snaked round your waist upon regaining a modicum of self control, brushing up and down your sides with the rhythm. Sometimes you would encourage her by placing your hands over hers, guiding them to wherever you desired, and for once she was more than happy to let someone else take the lead. Eventually she gained the courage to press her lips to the skin of your neck, which motivated you to let your head fall back onto her shoulder. Her mouth then trailed down to your exposed collarbones, though she longed to go further. Each kiss was messy, leaving behind a wet trail, but shit it was perfect. You were perfect.

The rest of the room seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. Carla was certain she'd never wanted anything- or anyone more in her life than right now. Desire burned increasingly hot in the pit of her stomach, yet there was no rush. Amy had told Kiki once, while she was drunk because that's when Amy's at her most wise, that she ought to live in the moment more. And although the advice didn't necessarily apply to Carla, that's exactly what she was doing anyway. Upon first laying eyes on you earlier in the evening, she'd decided it was time to make a move, time to finally quench the insatiable crush she'd had on you for the past year. And she was going to enjoy every second of it.

As Carla grabbed the back of your head, the world around her seemed to move in slow motion. Still you caught on quickly enough, leaning in the direction with closed eyes. Your lips clashed together urgently, both moaning at the first real taste of the other, the first taste of what was to come. Carla was practically devouring your mouth, desperate to show off despite the awkward angle. Though clearly it worked as you abandoned dancing a minute later to turn around and grab hold of her. Your hands shifted up to cup her face and the kiss slowed, becoming sweet rather than bruising.

She broke away to drag her tongue along to your ear. "My house or yours?"

"Who said we need a house?" You scoffed. "My car's parked right outside."

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Fire and Darkness Chapter 2

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1245

Summary: They’d stayed longer than expected. You get to know them.

They’d been here a week, trapped by the sudden thunderstorm that rolled in the morning after their arrival. According to Anya, Marisha was growing more agitated by the day; cabin fever, she claimed, nothing to worry about. You couldn’t help but wonder what was so bad about taking a breather from being on the run. 

During all that time, you’d seen neither hide nor tail of either of the guests when you’d gone out to practice in the shed. You hadn’t even heard them moving about through the little, easily-missed tunnel that connected the shed to the refugee house. Perhaps they were sleeping, you mused. It must have been very hard to be on the road like that.

It wasn’t until the full week passed that you were doing some basic, candle-lighting exercises that you finally heard that old, creaky trapdoor protest as it opened for the first time in several months. Out of it, Adrian’s head of pitch black hair rose slowly, his grey eyes--so much more striking because of the bags around them--darting around cautiously.

You smiled warmly, closing your fist to extinguish the small flame that’d been hovering over it. “I was wondering if I would ever see you again.”

“Marisha doesn’t like it when I make friends,” he explained quietly. How he’d managed to stay as clean as he looked while crawling through that little tunnel, you’d never know. He carefully lowered the trapdoor back into place.

“But she changed her mind?”

He shook his head and moved no closer, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Not really.”

Really not used to talking to people, you observed. “You won’t get in trouble for coming here, then, will you?” You wouldn’t have him being on her bad side just to see you; you wouldn’t.

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Apparently, all my pacing has started to annoy her. ‘Upsets her beauty sleep,’ she claims. Told me to get out and go bother someone else. You happen to be the someone else.”

You grinned. “Well, lucky me!”

His smile fell once more as he glanced around the shack once more, taking in the dirt floor and surprisingly well-built walls. “This place is much more well-constructed than the outside would have you believe.”

“Anya is quite proud of that. It has to be tight enough that none of the light from the fires gets out, but people don’t come sniffing around here because it looks like a death trap from the outside.”

“And she just . . . lets you practice in here every day?”

“Requires it, actually.”

“Isn’t she otkazat’sya?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Why would she want you to practice if she’s one of them? They hate us.”

“Not her,” you replied calmly. These types of questions weren’t uncommon from the refugees that passed through. “She knows that using our abilities is linked to our health, and she says that the better I am at controlling my abilities, the less likely they’ll flare up unexpectedly.”

Adrian nodded slowly. “She is uncommonly wise, your cousin.”

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed softly. Based on his pallor and the general lackluster shine to his hair, you found yourself asking, “You haven’t used your power in quite some time, have you?”

Now, he shook his head. “It’s not safe.” There was something haunted in his eyes with that statement. Something had happened, and it wasn’t anything good.

“It is here,” you encouraged. “If this place can hide the flames of an Inferni, it can hide anything. So what can you do?”

Perhaps it was the curiosity in your voice, or maybe it was the excitement in the tone, but he took a wary step back. “I can’t.”

You frowned. “I can leave? . . . If you’d like?” You’d hoped to see what type of grisha he was, but you’d seen this type of trepidation before. “But you really shouldn’t bottle your abilities up. You start looking too sick, and people will notice.”

“They also notice if you are too healthy while also having no home,” he argued, eyes flashing.

“I’m sure you’ve learned how to balance that by now.”

“Why do you want me to use my powers so badly?” he snapped. “So you can turn me in if you don’t fancy them? Or is someone around here looking for a Healer slave? Or perhaps a Heartrender assassin to take out a nosey neighbor?”

Your instinct was to raise your hands in surrender, but you knew that would come across as threatening, so you kept them in fists at your sides. “I promise I just want to help,” you said calmly. Refugees rarely came through here without some kind of tragic past; you wished you could say you’d never seen one react like this before. “Perhaps make a friend.”

Adrian scoffed. “What good is a friend that you’ll never see again?”

“We never know who we’ll see again.” This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation; it wouldn’t be the last. “Maybe in ten years, you’ll be the one helping me because we knew each other here.”

There was a bone-weary exhaustion that sunk into the curl of his shoulders when the fight sagged out of him. “You won’t tell Marisha that you were here?” he asked after a long pause. There was a strange history there. The woman was obviously his mother, but there was a tension between them based off the way he said her name. 

You shook your head.

“And you won’t tell anyone what I can do?”

“Of course not!” It would hardly be the first secret you’d kept; no one’s abilities had ever crossed your lips in all the time there had been travelers going through here. “If you want, I’ll tell you a secret, too, to make it even.” People usually liked the information trade; it made them feel safer while confiding in you.

“I suppose that would be fair.”

He seemed like the type that needed a real secret to feel even, so you told him something you’d never told anyone, “My abilities started showing when I was a baby. Not even four months old yet.”

Those grey eyes widened. “That’s . . .”

“Freakish? Impossible? You can say it; it’s not like I haven’t thought it all before.”

“You . . .” Adrian chewed his lip thoughtfully. “You must be quite strong if they appeared that early.”

You leaned in and whispered as if telling a bigger secret, “Why do you think Anya wants me to burn off my extra energy every night?”

The gears were practically visible as they turned in his head, some grand scheme forming beneath that sleek, black hair. You wondered what he would look like if he were allowed to use his powers like you, if he were healthy like a grisha was supposed to be. Wordlessly, he extended a hand into the space between you.

You could only stare as the light dimmed around Adrian’s fingers until there appeared to be a writhing black mass where his hand should have been. Very suddenly, you understood why he and his mother were so secretive; you’d never heard of someone with this sort of power. Reaching out your own hand, you extended a tongue of flame towards him. Within moments, that empty space between you was occupied by a line of fire dancing around a line of shadows.

When you looked back up at him, he was smiling. You couldn’t help but do the same.