#and what makes it worse is that despite everything she still finds herself attracted to him

[oakwolves]

One day I’ll make a proper timeline of Rosalyn and Ace’s relationship progress I feel like the polarizing way I talk about their dynamic (not just talking romantic wise) I sound like a maniac

[professorsnape394]

DAY 1 - The Warmth of a Good Woman

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Warmth

Summary: Severus can't stop thinking about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

A/N: Joining the party a little late but thought I’d give this another go after a longgggg hiatus from this blog.

Warnings:  Semi-naked woman?

Word Count: 2133

Credits to Gif Creator.

Not much had changed for Severus in the years since the Second Wizarding War. Yes, the Dark Lord had been defeated and everyone had lost a few friends along the way but ultimately Severus remained in the cold dark of the dungeons grading the papers of Hogwarts students until all hours of the night.

The flicking light of the many candles had dimmed, and the brisk night air was finally starting to get to him. His sallow skin had turned icy and his nose was numb to the elements from being exposed for so long. With a heavy sigh he promised himself he would make his way through one final stack of papers before turning in for the night, distracting himself with his thoughts hoping to speed up the process.

Although his work took its toll on him both physically and mentally, Severus hadn’t chosen to give it up in the aftermath of the war. While he took a short sabbatical to recover from one very nasty snake bite, he soon found himself bored and without purpose now that his reign as double agent was made redundant.

Minerva welcomed him back to Hogwarts with open arms, once again allowing him to do the one thing that truly brought him joy in life, enriching the minds of young witches and wizards through the art of potion making. The professor had never been more thankful of this decision than the day Headmistress McGonagall announced the newest defence against the dark arts professor. She was young and extremely attractively. But she was more than that. There was an aura about her, a positive energy that illuminated every room she entered. With a new outlook on life, Severus allowed finally himself to appreciate the young woman for what she was, a blinding light in his all-consuming darkness. For the first time in his life Severus considered the possibilities a woman like this presented.

Puffing out a breath, watching it turn to smoke as it hit the air, Severus’ mind wandered to the first few weeks of the new teacher’s arrival. While he had allowed himself to admire her from afar, it came as a shock to Severus to find the young witch knocking on his door the following morning, keen to introduce herself.

Sleep deprived and still feeling groggy from his abrupt awakening Snape couldn’t help his old personality from slipping through, despite his conscious efforts to improve himself.

“What do you want.” He grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I disrupted you, Sir – “

“You did.” He interrupted.

“My apologies. My name’s Professor Y/L/N I’m the new defence against the dark arts teacher.”

“I am aware. What I do not know if why you are at my chamber door at 6:30 in the morning.”

“I realise it’s early and this might not have been my best idea, but I wanted to introduce myself to all the faculty before breakfast and as you are the one which I am most eager to meet I thought I’d make this my first stop.”

“How privileged I am.” He couldn’t help himself from moaning. “I’m Professor Snape.”

“Yes, I know” She beamed. Snape was damned if her gleaming smile didn’t melt the ice in heart just a little. “Your contribution to the fight against you-know-who is legendary. Everyone knows who you are. But only a few have the privilege of meeting you. I’m just so glad I get to be one of those select few.”

“I do not respond well to flattery, Miss Y/L/N.” Snape could feel himself growing more uncomfortable by the moment. He didn’t enjoy talking to people he did not know, though even worse than that he loathed people bringing up the part he played in the wizarding wars. They always made him out to be some sort of hero type, that everything he did was brave and completely selfless. This he did not agree with, and therefore chose not to engage with the topic if he could avoid it.

“I’m sorry professor. The main reason I wanted to speak with you this morning was to ask if you had any advice for me.”

“Advice?” His eyebrow quirked up instinctively.

“I’m new to teaching.” She begun to explain. “And more than that I haven’t half the experience in the field of the dark arts that you do. I was hoping we could work together, maybe like a tutoring type of relationship, allowing me to gain some insight on the reality of the subject. All my knowledge is theoretical. I believe it would help the children if they had some real-life skills that they could apply to help them in the future.”

“Theoretical knowledge is all the students shall need. There is no great force of evil out there, the Dark Lord is dead and the Death Eaters have been disbanded. I do not wish to engage with the subject. It is not my job to tutor you. And I do not want to be bothered in my private quarters before the work day. Now goodbye, Miss Y/L/N.”

Y/N could tell she had struck a nerve with Snape, as his face turning a burning shade of red at her request and his chamber door slammed hard in her face, all the while she stood there confused. He wasn’t nearly the heroic selfless man the rumours described. In fact, he was one of the rudest men she had ever encountered. But there definitely was something intriguing about him.

The newest professor did not take no for an answer that first day, and continued to pester Snape with her antics every day after. From baking him cookies, to showing up at his office with a handful of textbooks, the witch was relentless in her pursuit. Though gradually it began to morph from a want of knowledge in the dark arts, to a peaked interest in the man himself. From Snape’s perspective he couldn’t tell whether she was trying to study the man or become his friend, either way Severus was not interested in the slightest.

The professor couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, causing another bought of fog to emerge from his mouth. From day one she had always been a pest, annoying him to no end to get whatever she wanted. He remembered the day he finally caved to her demands.

She had once again turned up at his office, this time after classes had commenced. She hadn’t brought any weapons of manipulation and had yet to mention her plan to collaborate with him. She simply sat in a chair opposite him rambling on about a student in one of her classes who hadn’t quite perfected a spell needed to pass the first assignment of the year.

“Anyway, I’ve tried literally everything with him and he just doesn’t seem to get it. He’s the only one in the class too or I’d be doubting myself, you know, but honestly, he just seems to have the worst luck because I know he’s trying but at this rate I’m scared he’s going to set my classroom on fire when all I’m asking for is a simple flame! I think I’m going to have to switch up my tactics again because I refuse to give up on him.” She huffed.

 It dawned on him that this would have been perfect ammunition to guilt him into helping her and her students out, but it seemed this thought had yet to occur to Y/N. Snape wondered if she had truly given up on her quest to get him to help her. If he remembered correctly, it had been a few weeks since she had even brought the subject up. Yet she stilled turned up at his office every day to talk about the most mundane stuff. Y/N didn’t seem to mind that Snape so rarely contributed to their conversations, only offering a nod or a small comment where necessary. He expected she would have gotten bored of his presence by now considering he wasn’t exactly the most exciting man to spend time with but he was glad she stuck around. Severus had grown accustomed to her ramblings and often found himself missing her when she was not around. The thought took him by surprise, he had never dared to acknowledge he might actually enjoy this woman’s company but upon reflection his words rang true. She had embedded her way into his previously regimented routine and it hadn’t upturned his life as he had initially worried.

“I’ll do it.” He blurted, catching her by surprise.

“You’ll do what?” Y/N seemed completely caught off guard by his declaration.

So, she truly wasn’t trying to guilt me. He thought.

“I’ll help you, tutor you in some practical knowledge for you to pass on to your students.”

“You will?” She beamed.

“Yes. Though let’s pray they never need to use it.”

“Oh Severus! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squealed, jumping up from her chair and rounding the desk.

The potion’s master’s body stiffed upon impact as the young professor threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. It took a second but he eventually relaxed into her embrace, no longer denying himself the simple pleasures of affection.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled against her cheek. Amused at the thought that this simple gesture brought this woman so much joy.

“You realise this was all just an excuse to get close to you.” She giggled into his ear.

“I know.” He whispered, closing his eyes and inhaling the fruity scent of her hair.

The memory of that day cheered Severus up slightly, giving him enough motivation to finish up the remainder of his marking and finally escape the ever-dropping temperature of his office. Keeping his head down, he powered through despite his eyes drooping from the lateness of the hour.

“Don’t tell me you’re still in here marking assignments Severus.” The familiar voice drew his attention to the adjoining door. “You should come to bed, it’s late.”

His heart warmed at the prospect of her worrying about him. He never used to have anyone who cared whether he slept or not. It had taken him some time to adjust his routine to suit another person, but sometimes old habits die hard.

“I won’t be long, darling, I’m almost finished. Get out of here before you catch a cold.” He nodded in the direction of the DADA professor, encouraging her to return to their shared chambers. Never one for obeying orders, she made her way across the cold stone floor, dragging Severus’ attention to her bare feet. Despite being worried for her health, Snape allowed his gaze to trail up her seemingly never-ending legs, settling on her exposed thighs. She wore only her underwear; a labyrinth of black fabric and cross-crossing lace, not quite see through enough to give you full access to her body, but enough to entice you in. And Severus was definitely enticed. From the day she made the first move on him, Snape had struggled to deny his attraction to her. After living for so many years denying every possible pleasure, Y/N reignited his appreciation for the fairer sex in a way that no woman ever had.  

As she approached the desk, Severus could clearly see the expanse of goosebumps covering her tanned skin, already feeling the affects of the damp dungeon office.

“Here.” He said, taking off his robes and draping it over her shoulders.

“Do I repulse you so much you feel the need to cover me up?” She joked.

“You’re a distraction.” Snape said seriously, meeting her eyes. “And it’s cold. Go back to bed.”

“Not without you.”

“I don’t have much more to do, let me finish.” He pleaded, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

“You can finish tomorrow.” Severus wanted to argue with her, but ultimately, she was right. And there was almost no chance of him finishing now that she had chosen to position herself upon his desk, legs brushing against the inside of his thighs.

Severus stared up at her, wetting his lips and humming appreciatively.  

Y/N dropped the robe, allowing it to pile by her hips.

Severus succumbed to her seduction, all thoughts of marking and assignments evaporating into the night air.

“You’re freezing.” She panted, cupping Snape’s cheeks in her hands, her soft lips brushing teasingly against his own. “Let me warm you up.”

Like he said before; nothing much had changed since the Wizarding War. Except now the Dark Lord was dead. Expect now McGonagall was headmistress at Hogwarts. Now there was a new permanent DADA professor. Now he allowed himself to love. Now he had the warmth of a good woman by his side, and he didn’t plan on letting her go any time soon.

[proffesionalalpaca]

I need more theories about Avatar 3 because I'm going to go crazy until the premiere 😭 I'm so curious how Spider will react if Quaritch really joins Ash's na'vi or worse kidnaps him again and forces him to join too

Let me just get my hat on *rustles of foil*

-

To put it simply I think if Spider was to find out Quaritch had joined the Ash clans, he’d be a mess of conflicting emotions: both pride at the fact his ‘not-dad’ is capable of connecting with Pandora and the Na’vi like that but also, from the nature of the ash people, be disappointed in who he has decided to connect with.

But for comedic effect here’s the initial reaction:

‘Quaritch joined the Na’vi’

Spider: YES!

‘It’s the Ash people’

Spider: FUCK!

-

Quaritch would, in my mind, definitely try to make his ‘totallynotmyson-son’ live with him, because being accepted by a group of Na’vi is what Spider wants right? But of course spider is a gentle person whose closest friend maybe the embodiment of Eywa herself, he wouldn’t want to be apart of a culture that values cruelty like severing and wearing kurus as trophies, or potentially having any affiliation with the RDA/human side of the war - who the ash people may be allying with.

I feel like the Metkayina will be where spider finds himself as a man and their pacifistic way of life being antithetical to his biological father would only attract him further.

The ash people will likely be the Opposite to everything the reef people & tulkun represent, much like their opposing elements - and while spider is a warrior at heart with an ever burning fire that may endear him to the ash people, I just can’t think he would be on board, though he would again feel conflicted if they were completely ready to accept him despite of all his differences. Everything he wants if he leaves behind who he is.

If Quaritch forced Spider to join the ash clans (which I don’t think it’d get quite that far but not for lack of trying on Mile’s part), Spider would resent his father for making him join the clan that’s trying to kill his ‘people’ (kiri, Lo’ak & etc…). It would, from in spider’s point of view, be little different from being forced to join the RDA directly.

-

Extra theory:

Themes of this film will likely be about war, forgiveness & rebirth.

War - obvious reasons but specifically about the cycle of violence of being wronged so you must take revenge which then creates the feedback loop of conflict that never ends. The ash people were likely on the losing side of a conflict/ many conflicts a long time ago and they still hold one hell of a grudge - which is why they’ll join the humans to defeat their ‘shared’ enemies.

Forgiveness - this is Neytiri’s theme, she needs to learn to let the past go in order to achieve inner peace and move on in her life without holding onto all that pain and anger. Especially towards Spider, where she’ll see that the ash people are the result of this blind hatred for the actions of one’s ancestors being put upon an innocent party. How petty & pointless it really is, especially how it can poison a person’s soul overtime. She doesn’t need to forget but to recognise that Spider and many humans are not all guilty of the crimes of a few terrible people. Maybe this will even aid in her journey to understanding humanities plight on Earth?

Rebirth - I’ve said before with project phoenix and the cultural symbolism of fire, there are huge indicators for rebirth to be a major theme and I think that will be Quaritch’s theme going forward as he sheds the identity of the human Quaritch and becomes the Na’vi man he lives as now, whether that is with the ash people or not is another matter but I think they will be crucial in finding his connection with Pandora, with Varang as a key point in this journey.

I also think from the leaks of spider that rebirth will be apart of his character arc, overcoming the limitations of his human body to truly be apart of Pandora. And kiri who could be reborn as the Avatar of Eywa herself.

[rise-my-angel]

Because I love salt, what do you find to be the most annoying lines of so-called evidence or foreshadowing for ships you hate? For me it’s hard to pick just one but Jon saying Sansa looked radiant is up there for me because the idea that Jon had a crush on Sansa in the first book or before is so much worse than the thought of them meeting again and then developing feelings (which I still hate, but it’s just not as bad). It’s super normal for people to think their siblings look nice. Arya’s POV chapters also remark that Sansa is beautiful. Ashford theory is annoying because it was originally about the hound and Sansa (also hate this ship but the fans are a million times more tolerable). I also roll my eyes when fans insist that the bride of fire line foreshadows Dany marrying Jon (and I even LIKE that ship but only in an AU in my head where Lyanna is Jon’s mom but Rhaegar is NOT the father)

"Because I love salt"

You have come to the right place as this is an accurate real life photo of me running this blog:

Thats a good one I hate though, multiple siblings and family members in this series all compliment one another. Even characters with bad relationships compliment each other. In the books, Arya recalls that her father calls her pretty, which only Jon ever also called her. Does that mean Ned had romantic feelings for Arya? Or Lyanna for that matter? No of course not. Thinking someone in terms of beauty is zero indicator of attraction in any way.

Also its even funnier with Jonsas because Sansa herself notes that Arya looks just like Jon, and then on multiple occasions notes that she thinks Arya is ugly. So, its even less compelling.

In the show Tyrion compliments Cersei's beauty all the time and we know there is nothing to it. It's reading into something that isn't there beacuse if they ignore the way beauty is used in this series as a common compliment towards other highborns, then its a really simple box to check on really stock symptoms of attraction. (I also dont really enjoy Sansan but it is funny how they just stay in their circle and mind their business like they somehow are winning based on being not fucking annoying alone).

I'm gonna rapid fire for Jon here because pretty much every single ship he has is backed by the worst evidence known to man.

The idea that Jon never thinks about Sansa because he loves her the most is dumb and not how we know Jon works. He holds back what he says not what he thinks. He thinks of Sansa the least because despite being his sister, she treated him like shit because she looks down on him for being a bastard. Jon cares about her, but not anywhere near how he cares about his other siblings who have clearly shown him love and respect.

The worst of Jon and Arya is a very very old outline that grrm scrapped. Its an outline that wasnt used and most of it isnt canon so it is literally a piece of non evidence for a ship that is disgusting. (Both Jonsa and Jonrya make Jons good older brother behavior towards his sisters look predatory and the shippers are all literally too blind to realize it)

Jon and Dany have literally nothing to back that up, because they are staged as moral oppositions to one another, dont know the other exists, and the idea that the motif of ice and fire will be about the coming together of romance is antithetical to everything grrm has established about the themes of his story. They are so far from being a ship that literally the ONLY thing they have to support it is the show and thats an absolute joke (see my every post that got me blocked by jonerys stans for more detail)

Ygritte is a rapist, so I accept literally zero "evidence" on that ones validity.

I also hate the "the actors have chemistry" argument to support really bad ships, because some actors having chemistry doesnt equal good romance, it equals good on screen dynamics in its own unique way. Like Tywin and Arya in season 2 have GREAT chemistry, but I don't need to explain why shipping that is creepy. Catelyn and Jaime have great chemistry, but it doesn't mean anything was actually there which could've worked.

Like shipping is fine, but so many people just INSIST it is canon or meant to be instead of something fun to think about. I joke ship about Stannis and Davos because its fun but I'm not over here arguing that people who don't ship it are "ignoring the text in front of them deliberately".

Also honestly, its really funny to me that you had to specify you'd only like that ship if they weren't related. Big oof on that one. Jonerys stans hate the idea they couldn't be related because they somehow think Dany being his AUNT isn't at all creepy. Like, Dany is related to Jon the way Jon thinks hes related to his MOTHER. There is no capability of romance or attraction there, that's crazy.

People who are biologically related but don't know it, 99% of the time are in fact, still not accidentally attracted to each other because that's biological survival instinct. Anti inbreeding protocol. But they think because DANY was raised to think her families blood superiority driven incest is fine, that somehow means JON would think its fine. Jonsas have no argument for that they just have to pray desperately that Jon would want to fuck his little sister despite how much it makes him look like a predator.

I'm sorry, I hope you have water on hand to wash down all this goddamn salt I just threw at you all at once.

Really, it isn't individual lines that irk me, its the overall tendencies of these ships to put more emphasis on things that don't even exist to justify something they don't even realize WHY people think it's creepy. I don't hate a lot of ships, just...all pro incest ones, and ones that promote predatory/rapist behaviors. Which is why I don't ship much in this series.

We're probably not meant to ship many people in this series if I in any way understand even a modicum of why grrm writes the lack of romance the way he does.

[lizardinkart]

when people are like "i'm going to Score A Win For The Gays by performatively decrying Taylor/Brian" but actually they're just being racist

Alright it’s almost 2 AM time for an unhinged rant

This is my #1 pet peeve actually. As a pasty white queer person nothing pisses me off more than white queer people (or even just queer people full stop) using their queer/gay/lgbt card to just be another kind of bigot. You can be queer and still be racist besties! Examine your beliefs and question why you believe them!!!

But in all seriousness people performatively decrying Taylor/Brian as either “uwu Taylor must be a wlw untouched by the impure hand of Men” or “Not-as-slick-as-y’all-think-you-are racists” gets on my nerves so bad. Because you’re missing the chance to appreciate the actual text of the story AND the bittersweet tragedy of it all. Just because (spoilers) they didn’t work out and Brian dies unceremoniously without Taylor knowing or bothering to double check (right before she scrambles her brains and uses the fabricated idea of Brian in a cabin as her anchor to reality), doesn’t mean that they didn’t impact each other and make each other better (and worse) people in long-lasting ways. Yes, Taylor MAJORLY fucked up Brian by abandoning/betraying him when he really needed that stability and she promised that she could deliver it, and it’s cathartic to get out of Taylor’s head and see that he actually did find someone he could lean on in Cozen, but also we can see how this kind of young, naive, and well-meaning but ultimately destructive kind of love that I’m sure many of us encountered when we were young and fucked up in a relationship (romantic or otherwise) could manifest in someone like Taylor. Because we saw her at her best, when she was able to be what she needed to be for Brian, when Brian made her finally feel good about herself for the first time since Emma turned on her, when they found comfort in each other when their worlds fell to shit. The wounds they healed could only be matched by the wounds they made, reflexive and thematic of them being in the right relationship at the wrong time. If I made that dynamic into a queer relationship or a same-race relationship, bet people would be talking about this ship a whole lot more. But no. We have to be racist and put down het ships because everything that’s het or “Not White/the Acceptable kind of POC” is Bad and Icky and we can’t be bothered with that. God forbid it be both! Fuck riiiight off :)

(Also side tangent but a healthy dose of biphobia oft sneaks in here because everyone’s quick to write off that bi people can be in het-passing relationships too. I do in fact fanon Taylor/Brian as both being bi because men and women don’t talk about women like that *gestures vaguely at how Wildbow writes florid descriptions of women in Taylor’s brain and like, the barest bones musings for Brian, repressed bisexual <3* and not end up being some kinda fruity.)

To paraphrase my much-smarter-than-me partner, it is still revolutionary to see a black man and a white woman in a real relationship in media, especially one that doesn’t play into the tired racist stereotypes and is (at least somewhat) healthy and optimistic about the fact that interracial relationships are not only viable but completely normal and harmless and desirable. Taylor/Brian was by no means perfect, but my god was it refreshing to see a character like Taylor, a very complex feminine character that wants to be perceived as strong, smart, and capable while also being feminine and desirable without being conventionally attractive, who just wants to know she can be loved despite her trauma, and Brian, a deeply emotional man struggling with the interconnectedness of his life’s traumas with his practice of masculinity as emotionally restricting/repressing, and his desire to protect the people he loves despite the literally crippling PTSD and a tendency to hold on just a little too tight, get into a relationship and actually work out there for a sec. And the fact that you get all of this obvious love and care and attention put into an interracial relationship on TOP of that is just chefs kiss 11/10 best shit I’ve seen in my life. It is such a welcome change to your average tasteless, de-clawed straight or even gay relationships in media or fandom and I would actively pay to see another Taylor/Brian style pairing over 2 conventionally attractive twinks/femmes being uwu cute at each other.

This was a very meandering and scattered rant but yeah. This is by no means excusing any of the actually racist stuff in Worm, because it’s certainly in there, but I can talk about that a different time.

Thinly veiled miscegenation-phobias and generalized racism begone! Stan Taylor/Brian for clear skin and an actually well-written romance.

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 79

Cw: mentions of infidelity(does a kiss count?), targcest, mentions of murder, political upheaval, riots

Gif by @the-dragonqueenblog

Taglist: @stargaryenx @mercedesdecorazon @arrthurpendragon

To think everything was good between them.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asks quietly as they laid in the same bed.

It had been late morning when they had their fight and he had been too angry to accept her apology no matter how much she meant it.

Now, it was late, the moon already high in the night sky and his very repentant wife was not sure if she should sleep in the same bed with them.

She asks a stupid question, neither trusted their guards or servants not to kill them and she knows it.

“No.” He answered refusing to turn and look at her.

Aemma on her side, looking at him, pleading for forgiveness. Aemond on his back facing the canopy of the bed because he knows just seeing her so pathetically sorry will erode his resolve to stay angry at her.

Aemma doesn’t make any attempts to touch him and yet he knows they will wake up entangled in each other like always.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized for the umpteenth time and despite knowing she truly meant it, Aemond refuses to accept it.

He has never been angry at her.

Well, not since they married.

He knows she finds other men handsome and felt some attraction to Stark, but she had never kissed other men.

Never wanted them.

It infuriates him that she would let herself fall into the arms of another man because she felt lonely.

As if he was not enough.

Aemond was prone to jealousy, hated the idea of anyone wanting what was his. If he could freely blind any man that even looked at her, he would.

Still, Addam will die fighting Daeron and never be a problem again.

“Is he a better kisser?” He doesn’t even know why he asks that. Maybe his injured pride needs to think he is the superior man.

How dare Laenor’s by-blow have him feel inadequate by simply existing?

Addam who still had his dragon, had a fleet of ships at his command and worse, was lauded as the brave hero whose loyalty never wavered.

Aemond had accidentally murdered his brother, been allied to the wrong king even when his wife begged him to leave with her and worse, lost his dragon after his opponent died of natural causes mid fight.

“No.” a lie, a lie said because she knows he was hoping for that answer and instead it only irritates him more.

If the bastard of Hull had been a bad kisser, he could forgive her knowing she didn’t enjoy it.

“Liar.” He mutters and she sighs.

Aemond can feel her arm move as she gives into the urge to touch him.

“Fine, he was a better kisser. But he wasn’t you.” She admits, her fingertips barely grazing his arm as she retreats to his disappointment. “It was wrong, I should have never done it, I regret it immensely and I do not know how else to prove it to you.”

“I know a few ways, ābrazȳrys.” The prince said thinking six hours of groveling should be enough.

“Your wish is my command, valzȳrys.”

Orwyle doesn’t know how he manages to do it, but he secures three dragon eggs just hours before the Shepherd and his men unleash their violence onto the living symbols of the power of House Targaryen.

With this he will buy his way back into his office.

“Where are we going, maester?” Gaemon Waters asks as he held onto the mule’s reigns just like he had taught him.

Rhaenyra had called for the boy’s head when Sylvenna Sand and his mother, Essie, mentioned a letter by King Aegon wishing to legitimize the boy.

An obvious trap, but the young women had not known that before the Knights Inquisitor had taken them from their bed the night before the riot.

Heidi, one of the girls at the brothel, had stolen the boy from under the guards’ noses and brought him to Orwyle just as he readied the saddlebags on his mule.

They had died his hair blue to hide his eye color and said his father was a Tyroshi sailor and that Orwyle was taking him to his ship in the Saltpans.

“To your uncle at Harrenhal.” The Grandmaester answers as the city behind them falls into chaos.

Princess Aemma had proven Good King Viserys a fraud.

The people had loved Prince Aemon and his daughter, people had mourned Laenor’s unjust murder and now that the Shepherd knew Rhaenyra and Aegon’s reigns to be illegitimate, there was nothing to hold the starving and angry masses back.

Even the handful of loyalists could not find it in themselves to remain loyal to Rhaenyra.

The Velaryons and their allies had left the moment chains were clasped on the Seasnake’s hands.

Lord Vaemond had taken his household and his ships making things go from bad to worse.

While Princess Aemma and her husband did not stop trade, Prince Daeron under the banner of his brother had stopped anything coming into Kingslanding by land.

The Shepherd cast the blame on House Targaryen and the people ate it up.

They were at fault, but the fault did not lie solely with the kings and queens who had ruled them.

The fault also lay with the Small Council who ruled just as much as they did.

But it was too late now, the disgraced maester tells himself mournfully as the mule trots up the Kingsroad.

No one is sure how the Riots began, some say when the Queen revealed her daughter had murdered Queen Alicent.

Others when she enacted a tax on baseborn children despite her having her bastard son as her heir.

But one thing is clear, the Shepherd had rallied the masses as the gates were left open to the Queen’s enemies and all who offered resistance to him and his followers had been dealt with.

It was two nights after the riots broke out when the Shepherd declared his intent at the foot of the Hill of Rhaenys.

“There the demons dwell, up there. Fire and blood, blood and fire. This is their city. If you would make it yours, first must you destroy them. If you would cleanse yourself of sin, first must you bathe in dragon’s blood. For only blood can quench the fires of hell.”

That night, the Shepherd’s Lambs became the Shepherd’s Dragonslayers.

“What do you mean they were captured?” Rhaenyra grows faint when she hears the report.

Mysaria feigns sorrow as she speaks.

With Daemon dead and Rhaenyra beset by enemies and a city in chaos, it was time for the White Worm to let nature take its course.

“Lyseni pirates wanted revenge for the Battle of the Gullet, they saw the standard of House Targaryen and Prince Aegon’s dragon.

Only Prince Aegon survived and is safe in Dragonstone.”

The pirates were supposed to slay both boys, leave the male line to die just as her son died in her belly.

The princesses would be harder to kill, Baela was guarded day and night in High Tide, Rhaena was in the Vale where even the Red Priests could not harm her and Aemma.

Aemma Velaryon had to live only so she can cast the final blow and complete Mysaria’s revenge.

Then and only then, her dead son could be avenged.

“Your grace, Lady Mysaria!” the Kingsgaurd is as white with horror as his cloak. “Prince Joffrey is missing!”

And just as the man speaks, the Queen’s She-dragon roars as she took flight.

No living person can order another one’s dragon.

Joffrey Velaryon is barely seven name days old when he is eaten by his mother’s own dragon just outside the castle walls.

The White Worm drinks to her victory that night.

[jvstheworld]

The Buffy Re-Watch: Season 1 character analysis

Buffy:

The girl smashing the cliché of blondes dying in horror. She's our hero. A 16 year old girl who wants to be normal but has a duty to save the world. At the beginning she is reluctant to be the slayer, and why wouldn't she be? She lost her first watcher, burned down her school's gym, got kicked out of said school, lost friends, parents divorced and had to move towns because so few schools would take her. In one year since she got called to be a slayer her life has drastically changed and not really for the better. So it's understandable that she wouldn't want to return to that. But as soon as she saw Willow, a new potential friend in trouble, she goes into slayer mode. As soon as she accepts her duty, she does it to the best of her abilities. But she also wants normality in her life. If her life was just school and slaying it would probably make her miserable. Cheerleading, dating, school dances are a part of her ideal normal life as a teenager, it's something she needs to stop herself from feeling more like an outcast than she already is. The best episode to illustrate that is 'Out of Sight, Out of Mind' because back in LA she was in Cordelia's position, but in Sunnydale she is seeing it from the other side. She is also disconnected from her friends and new life, because none of this is what she wanted. She still holds on tot he hope that she can be normal.

However, that is sort of destroyed in 'Prophecy Girl'. Overhearing that she is going to die breaks her. She laughs at the absurdity of it and then we see how she truly feels. She is pissed off. At 16 she is told she will die because someone hundreds of years ago foresaw it, so now it must happen. She doesn't want to, of course she doesn't. She wants to live and be normal, but apparently that's over for her now. Despite all of her anger and pain she still goes to face The Master. After talking to Willow, seeing her fear and devastation of losing people she knew, Buffy had to go. she didn't see another choice. Thought things are never that simple. What really stings for Buffy is that is she had stayed away, if she never confronted the Master, she wouldn't have died. the shock and realisation only comes to her moments before she dies, and The Master being the one to tell her makes it all the worse. It is fortunate that Angel ad Xander came to find her when they did, to bring her back and help her kick ass.

Buffy is a loyal, caring, compassionate person. She is a good slayer, especially after only finding out a year before and past tragedies in her life. She will do anything to protect her friends and anyone who needs help. She doesn't get everything right and makes mistakes, but her willingness to try, the support of her friends, and Giles' guidance helps her and makes up for areas where she is lacking. Her relationship with her mum is a positive one, which is something I personally like to see. She has her fears like everyone else, which males her more 3 dimensional, because she isn't some infallible superhero. Her real life problems and fears keeps her grounded and believable, because a character without those is fake and unrelatable to the audience.

As with my post about Angel, I still need to see a real reason as to why she likes him. If you're going to make a romance happen ten give me reasons to want them together besides them both being attractive. That's all I'm saying.

[the-interplay-of-sex-and-violins]

Alythara

Seldarine Drow

Cleric of Eilistraee

Queen of "do no harm; take no shit"

Menzoberranzan

Alythara is the youngest daughter of House Zauvirr, and like most noble daughters, was raised to be a priestess of Lolth. However, Lolthite doctrine--and indeed the majority of Menzoberranzan culture--never sat right with Alythara, and she longed for something else...but the thought of trying to escape the City of Spiders was too overwhelming and, in all likelihood, fatal for her to commit to. Instead, she did her best to get by--doing just enough to avoid attracting the ire of her goddess or mother, and avoiding participation in the cruelties of Menzoberranzan's culture as much as possible.

She was just over a century old when her little brother, Kelyn, was born. After some debate, he was allowed to live and given to Alythara to raise...something Alythara herself suspected to be a test, as well as avoiding tying up one of their more promising sisters with the rearing of a defective child. She was torn between her need to raise him "properly" so she wouldn't be deemed an unfit caretaker and Kelyn taken from her, and her innate desire to be much kinder and gentler than was "proper". Alythara did her best to balance the two, keeping a gentle hand with Kelyn as often as possible, though she could only stretch the facade so far.

Despite that, Kelyn shaped into a bright, cheerful, gentle boy under her care, and the two were immensely fond of one another...until he was about seven years old, and separated from Alythara long enough for an assassin to strike. Said assassin failed in his attempt to take the youngest Zauvirr's life, however--because Kelyn took his instead, and in fact, was quite thrilled by the whole experience.

While the rest of their family was shocked but intrigued by the unexpected development in their youngest, Alythara was horrified; but she held her tongue when it was decided Kelyn would be taken from her care to be trained as an assassin.

For decades, the two siblings drifted apart and rarely spent much time together. Kelyn was eager to prove himself as a killer, and exceptionally talented at it; Alythara almost wanted to hate him for becoming another part in the horrific ongoing bloodsport that was Menzoberranzan, but never truly could, because in the end he was just a boy being molded by people neither of them could resist. Besides, Alythara blamed herself for letting him be turned into what he was now: after all, hadn't it been her job to care for the boy, from the moment he'd been born, and hadn't she failed to protect him when it mattered most?

Eventually, Kelyn's talent for music was discovered and encouraged, and it wasn't too long after that that Alythara stumbled across him in a half-forgotten storage room, in the midst of a mental breakdown. Though he was unwilling to talk at first, fearing punishment for such a flagrant display of weakness, Alythara managed to calm him down, and Kelyn divulged everything to her: he didn't want to do the things he did, but something in him forced it, and the evidence and memory of it sickened him. And worse, he couldn't stop: he was only alive because he was useful to their matron, and if he ceased to be useful, he'd likely find himself on one of Lolth's altars within a tenday.

Recognizing the gentle boy she'd once known was still in there, Alythara confessed her own flaws to him: her disgust with Menzoberranzan as a whole and the world they'd been born into and forced to participate in, her desire to leave it, even her lack of faith in the Queen of Spiders.

The two quickly became close again, having each finally found someone like themselves in the Underdark. For a time, they kept each other sane while Kelyn did his bloody work and Alythara went through her goddess' rites, periodically making half-plans to leave together and flee to the surface, though the idea was still too big for them to grasp or seriously consider.

Then, one day, Kelyn didn't return from a job. His work had been done--all his targets slaughtered, with his usual flair--but he himself simply vanished. It was unlikely he was dead, given his skill and that his body was never recovered.

In a panic, Alythara checked everywhere she knew her brother might go, having grown to expect his increasingly-common breakdowns after jobs. He wasn't anywhere, and the only clues she found to his whereabouts were the fact that a few of his things were missing, and a note left for her, in his hand.

All it said was "I'm sorry".

The Surface and Eilistraee

For a short time, Alythara was in shock and unsure how to respond to Kelyn's disappearance and the sudden lack of her remaining lifeline. Eventually, though, she came to the obvious conclusion: he must have finally broken under the pressure, and fled to the surface like they'd half-planned. While the rest of her house scrambled to figure out what to do with their prize assassin gone, Alythara quietly packed what she could, and one day she simply set out towards the surface without looking back.

She didn't get far before realizing her desertion had been noticed: Lolth withdrew her favor from her errant once-priestess, refusing to bestow any further divine gifts on her. Nonetheless, Alythara breached the surface, without a clue where to go.

She was shortly found by a small group of surface drow: an Eilistraean patrol from a nearby commune, searching for any stragglers wandering the wilderness in need of help. They were quick to bring Alythara back with them, though they hadn't seen anyone matching Kelyn's description...or, indeed, any drow escaping the Underdark recently, aside from Alythara herself.

The Eilistraeans helped get Alythara back on her feet and were happy to offer her a place to stay for as long as she wanted it, as well as helping assist in finding her brother. With nowhere else to go (and caught off-guard by such overwhelming kindness from her own people, despite no apparent gain for them), Alythara stayed, and learned about their goddess.

The Dark Maiden appealed to Alythara far more than the Queen of Spiders ever had, and it wasn't long before she had converted to Eilistraee's priesthood. Kelyn had yet to be found, but Alythara reasoned that he could take care of himself, and threw herself into furthering Eilistraee's faith when not actively searching for him, often combining both goals in the process: she was consistently a volunteer for long, far-ranging patrols that might take her near someone who had seen him.

For years, only once did Alythara find a potential lead: a young drow man accompanied by a tiefling child, in a small town a short distance from her commune. By the time she could investigate, though, both drow and tiefling were gone, having disappeared all at once with nobody any wiser as to their destination.

A decade later was when Alythara finally heard another likely rumor: an unusual-looking drow bard in Baldur's Gate, social and friendly and something of a local novelty, often seen with his tiefling daughter. Additionally, murders had taken a small but noticeable spike in the city within the past ten years or so...roughly coinciding with when Alythara had lost track of her first lead. And more to the point, many of those murders had a feel to them--Alythara knew her brother's tendencies, and these murders sounded uncomfortably like his doing.

If it was him, he was in a bad way, to be still committing the acts he'd hated so much. Without a second thought, Alythara packed up to go to Baldur's Gate in search of the drow she suspected was her brother.

Before she could get there, though, she was abducted by mindflayers, locked in one of their pods aboard a nautiloid, and infected with one of their tadpoles. The nautiloid was attacked by githyanki dragon-riders, and in the chaos, eventually crashed somewhere on a beach near Baldur's Gate; Alythara managed to break free of her damaged pod in the aftermath, stumbling free of the wreckage, and before long, she found other survivors.

Among them was another drow: a young man with a violin, and aside from his coloration, everything else was as she'd known him a decade ago.

Kelyn.

[ladysharmaa]

Fainted

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

summary: Anthony is away at Simon's house despite not wanting to leave Y/n alone. His worst fear happens when she faints, pregnant with their child, and he is not there to help her

warnings: pregnancy, just fluff

Anthony Bridgerton found his wife nearly two years ago. After a few months of having trouble carrying a child, Y/n finally got pregnant. Due to this, the Viscount was even more protective of Y/n and spent much more time at home, also moving his workplace to the library so he could be closer to his wife while she read.

Despite what society might say, Anthony didn't make her go to balls, knowing her feet were swollen from carrying so much weight. However, Y/n always made the effort to go, knowing the obligations they had. But they ended up leaving early most of the time.

One moment when she realized how much Anthony loved her and their unborn child was when at a ball, Y/n was tired and Anthony, realizing this, knelt down and forced his wife to sit down on his leg. A few strange looks were shot their way, but the Bridgerton man couldn't have cared less, his focus being Y/n's well-being.

However, when Simon invited him, Benedict, and Collin for a man's meeting, which usually involved a lot of drinking, Anthony wanted to refuse. But Y/n insisted for him to go and take a few moments to relax with his brothers. Quite honestly, Y/n also wanted some time to herself without her husband worrying whenever she got up.

After some hesitation, the Viscount yielded to his wife's wish and promised to return as soon as the first rays of sunlight touched the floor.

Everything was going well, Y/n had met her mother in the afternoon, telling her all about the last few days and asking how her father was on his trip. Afterward, the Bridgerton woman returned home, taking advantage of the beautiful day to read in the garden, listening to the birds sing and a light breeze touching her face.

The problem was that during the evening, Y/n was in bed, relaxing her feet from walking so much when she started to feel lightheaded. Thinking it was just her body telling her she was hungry, Y/n started heading to the kitchen, where she hoped some maids were awake and could prepare her something.

The dizziness got worse, Anthony's wife was already at the end of the stairs, she instinctively placed a hand on her round belly. She gripped the banister for some support, beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead. Black dots started to appear in her vision, Y/n blinked her eyes a few times to see if they would disappear but to no avail.

"Lucy!" she tried to scream but didn't have the strength to do so, just letting out a small whisper of the maid's name.

Before Y/n even realized what was happening, she had already lost her strength, consequently losing her balance and falling down the last couple of stairs that remained. The noise attracted the attention of the workers at the house of Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton and they scurried to find out the source of it.

The next thing Y/n knew, she opened her eyes, already finding herself in the comfort of her bed. Around her were at least five maids, all walking around her with urgency and concern, a wet towel being placed on her face to cool her and wipe away the sweat.

"Lady Bridgerton! Thank the lord you are awake!" Lucy exclaimed, giving her a reassuring yet worried smile.

"What happened? Where's Anthony?" Yn questioned in a husky voice, shifting a little on the bed and noticing how dry her mouth was. "Is... Is my child okay?"

"Don't worry, Lady Bridgerton. Phillip went to the Duke's house urgently to inform the Lord of what had happened. A doctor was also called to make sure the baby is fine. They shall be arriving soon." an older maid explained with a gentle smile. Everyone was very fond of Y/n. "Try to relax, my lady. For you and the baby."

Y/n nodded, the words still a little fuzzy in her head. She turned her head to the side, letting a tear fall without anyone seeing it, fear coursing through her veins. She wanted Anthony.

She didn't know how much time had passed. Could it be seconds? Minutes? Hours? The only thing she did was grip her round belly with increasing fear, caressing her soft skin and hoping that everything was okay with her baby. The baby still hadn't kicked her like he sometimes did, and despite how uncomfortable it was, Y/n just wanted him to do it.

Punch my ribs, is that so hard? she thought.

However, the sound of the bedroom door bursting open snapped her out of her thoughts, Anthony basically running in and with a face of pure terror. Y/n she was pretty sure she saw some maids jump in surprise to see the eyes of the Viscount like that. The fear that ran through them made him look like a wild animal with the sole purpose of protecting his family. Anyone who got in his way would regret it.

Y/n didn't know what happened, but as soon as she saw Anthony, a feeling of guilt consumed her and she broke down in tears. "Anthony, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. The baby..."

"Is the baby okay?" the man asked immediately, his heart clenching in fear. Unconsciously, he took a step back, only worsening the state of Y/n who thought he was disappointed with her for not even be capable of protecting their child.

"The baby is fine." Lucy intervened, seeing Anthony's panic for his family's safety with a smile, but also realizing what Y/n might be thinking. "The Viscountess has fainted, probably from the heat. A doctor has already been called. He shall be arriving in a few moments."

"Everyone leave the room." Anthony snapped.

Everyone hurried until the two Bridgertons were alone. Y/n thought her husband was going to say everything she was thinking, but was surprised when Anthony shed a tear that he tried to hide. He sat down in a chair a little way away from her and buried his face in his hands, a broken sob escaping his lips followed by several others.

"Anthony, I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect our child. I understand if..." she tried to say, her voice breaking from fatigue and crying, but Anthony quickly interrupt her.

"My love, you have nothing to apologize for." he stated with certainty, reaching over to take her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it for a few seconds. Then he caressed her belly and took the towel from the water bowl, continuing what the maids were doing.

"I thought..."

"When Phillip came knocking on the door of my sister's husband's house to say that something had happened to you, my heart stopped. I should have been here. You are my world, I can't imagine my life without you. I'm sorry, please forgive me. I love you and our son. More than anything.”

"Or daughter." Y/n remembered him with a smile, wiping her tears and his away. “I'm sorry for worrying you when you were having fun."

"You will forever be my first priority. If you want me home I'll be here with you. God, if you asked me to clean I would probably do it as long as it meant you were happy."

"I love you, Viscount Bridgerton. How could I have been so lucky?" she whispered, calmer now, pulling Anthony towards her by the shirt.

"I ask myself that every day." he said in the same tone of voice as her, his lips brushing over Y/n's. "I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." 

Their lips finally touched, sealing each other in a loving kiss, their tears combining. Both hands joined on top of Y/n's belly.

Anthony continued to wipe Y/n's face with the towel silently, continuing to repeat in his head that his family was safe and well. The fear he felt couldn't be compared to anything, he was sure his hear stopped for a few seconds. The world seemed to lose its color and happiness.

The doctor arrived a short time later, breathless from having run upstairs in a hurry to treat someone as important as the Bridgertons. He did the usual tests, though his heart was beating rapidly against his chest, due to Anthony literally watching every move he made, hawk-watching the doctor. He went pale every time Y/n yelped in pain and Anthony glared at him with fury. If looks could kill he would be already six feet underground.

"Just keep her from exerting too much until the end of the pregnancy. Bed rest would be the best option and it's important to stay hydrated with the heat she's been in. If it gets too hot, a cold shower is advisable, but be careful not to be too much because of the baby. If you need anything else, I'll be at your service." the doctor said, heading for the door. Anthony was behind him, listening intently to everything he had to do. "My lord." he bowed and left, leaving the couple alone.

When the Bridgerton man turned around, Y/n was already looking at him with a pout for having to stay in bed until the end of the pregnancy. Anthony rolled his eyes, finally managing to breathe a sigh of relief after she and their child were seen by a doctor. As her husband moved closer to the bed, she moved to the side and patted the mattress gently, indicating that she wanted him to join her.

"No. You need to rest." he said, shaking his head as he unfastened his tie and tossed it to a spot in the room without looking. "And I hope you know that you will never leave my sight again."

"I can do that better with you here. Please."

"If our child also makes the same eyes you do when you want something, I'm not responsible for spoiling them. You know I can't say no to that." Anthony pretended to scold despite the smile that threatened to appear on his face.

Because of his wife's stubbornness, Anthony lay down on the bed, allowing Y/n to lay her head on his chest while her huge belly rested on top of his legs.

"Everything is going to be alright, Anthony. I'm going to fight." Y/n said, breaking the silence that had formed, knowing that the man dreaded the day of delivery as many women didn't survive it. "But even if something bad happens, I know he's in good hands with you. And I'll always be with you."

"Don't say that. You'll be here to see our child grow up." Anthony said, fighting back tears, his arms tightening around her and pulling her even closer to him. "And it could be a her."

Y/n chuckled, starting to close her eyes from exhaustion. "It could be her." she repeated, finally falling asleep.

The last thing she felt was Anthony landing a loving kiss on her head, snuggling her against him. "Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up."

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Fourteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Fourteen Summary: Lori spends time with Mike and shares a meal with the Brothers.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3.3k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Fourteen Warnings: slight angst, some fluff, mild violence, mild smut (kissing)

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

I tested positive to covid yesterday so I'm feeling a little foggy in the brain, so forgive me if this chapter is poorly edited (well worse than usual 🤣)

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors. (see above!)

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Thirteen Part Fifteen

Lori

After eating a simple lunch of sandwiches with Geralt, I spent the afternoon with Mike. His room was the polar opposite of Marshall's tidy minimalism. It looked like a college dorm room, an overfilled, yet organised den of nerdom. He had a desk filled with what looked like a custom PC and several monitors while vintage consoles and games were organised in shelving around the desk. His room was fairly dim with most light being emitted from LED strips along the corners of the ceiling, but there was enough lumination to see his closet seemed to have more clothes on the floor than hanging on the coat hangers or folded and his bin was overloaded with empty wrappers and soda cans.

I loved everything about it.

“Uh, so, this is me.” He must have noticed my inventory of his room because he looked away as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

I leaned over to kiss his cheek and said grinning, “I'm digging the ‘King of Nerdom fantasy’ aesthetic you have gone for here.”

Mike rolled his eyes then grabbed me around the waist, fingers digging into my sides as he tickled me and made me squeal. I slid from his grasp and ran around the bed. My heart was pounding, adrenaline was surging through my veins making my hands shake as I couldn’t stop giggling as he continued to stalk me.

“Think you can run, huh?” he asked, grinning as he kept advancing on me.

The low light in the room seemed to perfectly enhance his already far too attractive face, highlighting the strong cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin and the model-like bone structure in his cheeks. Despite being smaller than the other Brothers, he was still a very large guy. I could see how broad his shoulders actually were and I noticed the way his arms stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Trembling and giddy, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make him chase me or if I wanted him to catch me and throw me on the bed. My eyes darted to the door and I thought maybe a bit of a run might be just what I needed.

“Don’t even think– Hey!” Mike called, but I was already throwing open the door and running down the corridor.

Giggling as I ran, I turned my head to find Mike tearing down the hall after me. I yelped and ran faster, determined to take him for as much as a run as I could before he inevitably caught me.

I ran further into the clubhouse, down a hall I hadn’t been in before, noticing a few rooms that had doors which appeared to be holding something valuable behind heavy duty doors. As I turned a corner I quickly realised I had gotten myself trapped. I was on the verge of trying to open one of the doors to find a hiding place when I felt my arm being yanked and I was hoisted into the air and thrown over Mike’s shoulder.

“Gotcha!” he cried, triumphantly.

“Put me down!”

Mike laughed and started to run down the hall while I screamed, kicked my legs and flailed my arms in a weak attempt at getting him to release me. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be put down. Mike’s spontaneous, freely given affection and his chaotic, bordering on juvenile behaviour was what I adored most about him.

It’s what I needed most from him.

Suddenly, Mike came to a stop and I felt the muscles in his shoulder tense under my weight. I peered around his body as best I could and saw Walker with a rifle in his hands pointed directly at Mike’s head.

Holy shit.

“Were you born a fucking idiot, Mike, or did you have to practice?”

Mike slowly lowered me to the floor. I had to avert my eyes from Walker. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I felt like I was about to burst out laughing.

“Shit, Walker, we were just–”

“Running around making the girl God damn scream? Like she was being attacked? During a fucking protection operation? The fuck, kid?”

It wasn’t really funny anymore as I raised my eyes and looked at Walker. His eyes were narrow and his lip curled into a snarl. He wore dark denim jeans and a plain white wife beater which clung to every muscle and the hair of his chest peaked above the low neckline. I knew he would be fit like the others, but fuck he was jacked and unlike his Brothers, I couldn’t see any tattoos on him.

“Shit, I didn’t think–”

“You better start fucking thinking or one of these days you’ll end up–”

“Walker,” I interrupted sharply.

“What?” he snapped as he whipped his head towards me.

I gasped. I had expected to see his face twisted in anger and it was, but that wasn’t what made me suck in a breath. It was the other emotion that warped his near perfect features, the same one that had his chest pumping and his nose flaring. 

Walker was scared.

He steadily and slowly lowered his rifle as his face seemed to drop and in the snap of a finger his momentary look of vulnerability was replaced by his usual sneer.

“This is Club business, princess. Stay out of it.” Walker growled.

“I’m fine though,” I said softly. “Nothing happened. I’m okay.”

Walker continued to glare at me. I wanted to raise my hand and touch his cheek, to reassure him, to comfort him. My arm was halfway there before I realised what I was doing and forced myself to lower it to my side.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Walker spat, and he turned his grim look to Mike, “Both of you.”

I swallowed as Mike silently put his arm around my shoulders and led me back to his room. I couldn’t stop myself and looked over my shoulder to see Walker looking down at the dark grey low pile carpet of the hallway shaking his head. He glanced up and our eyes met. His face momentarily appeared pained, his brows furrowed and raised, then they lowered and his lip curled.

I quickly looked away.

Mike set me up at his desk then laid on his bed, watching some tv. The mood was a little sombre as I started perusing my go to sites that had next day delivery. I found it difficult to concentrate at first, the run in with Walker played on my mind. As did his unexpected reaction.

Had he truly been afraid when he thought I was being attacked? I found it hard to believe considering the position he had in the club. If he fell to pieces at the outset of a life or death situation, there’s no way the others would have put him in charge.

The only other explanation - and it seemed too far-fetched - was that he was afraid for me. 

Maybe he had been worried something had happened to me because if he lost a client, the Brotherhood’s reputation would be tarnished. On top of that, I don’t think Sy - or the other Brothers for that matter - would easily forgive him and it may even threaten his position as President.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense and I was able to concentrate on my orders.

I found a way to actually make the shopping enjoyable. Still angry at my Nate, I didn’t hold back and ordered what I wanted without any consideration of cost. That $200 pair of jeans? Add to cart. That $150 bra and panty set? Quantity two. Add to cart.

Was it childishly passive aggressive of me?

Absolutely.

I almost decided to really take the piss and order myself a couple of cocktail dresses, but I figured the cost of what I actually needed was punishment enough. I did order a few skin care products that were usually too expensive for me to afford and some workwear and steel-toed boots for when I spent time with Geralt.

When I was finished and just messing around looking at pretty and impractical shoes, I started to wonder what Mike knew about the pact. I spun around in the gaming chair at his desk and decided to ask him about it.

“Mike?”

“You done?” he asked, sitting up and grinning with his usual puppy-like enthusiasm.

“Yeah. I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious.” He grunted and raised his lip in a mock look of disgust.

“It's about the pact.”

His eyes widened with an exaggerated look of innocence. “What pact?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t bullshit me.”

He downcast his gaze. “Shit, I’m s…” he shook his head and when he looked back at me his face set in a grim determination, “No. I’m not going to apologise for it. I was frustrated when I thought I had missed my chance with you, but when G told me what he, Sy and Marshall had agreed to, I was in. Maybe we should have discussed it with you first, but I wasn’t going to let another chance with you slip through my fingers.”

I looked down at my jeans and picked off a piece of fluff while I tried to take in what Mike said. He moved across the bed until he sat on the edge and grabbing the armrests of the gaming chair, he rolled it close until I was nestled between his legs.

“Hey, I don’t want things to get weird between us. I meant it when I said ‘no pressure’, okay Babycakes?” He lowered his head until his eyes caught mine, and he smiled gently as he cupped my cheek with his warm hand. “I’m just happy you’re here with me. Even if we’re never going to be more than friends. I just want to be around you.”

“You really mean that?”

He nodded, solemnly but then his grin turned mischievous and he added, “Okay, maybe I’ll be a little disappointed if we don't kiss again.”

I laughed and lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re such an ass.”

Mike chuckled a little, but grew serious. “How do you feel about it? The pact I mean.”

I took a deep breath, giving myself a moment to really think about it. “I was mad when Marshall told me. I yelled at him and stormed out.”

“That explains his shitty mood this morning.”

I shrugged. “I’m not mad anymore, but I don’t know how I feel about it.” 

Mike pulled me onto his lap as he nodded. “Took me a bit to get my head around as well. Then I realised a couple of things. First, you being with my Brothers doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Babycakes and the second is that I know they all feel the same way about you as I do.”

I laid my head on Mike’s shoulder. His arms went around me, drawing me closer to his body as he bowed his head.

“Have I said too much?” he whispered, his lowered, serious tone made him sound older than he usually seemed.

“No,” I whispered back. “I think I needed to hear that.”

He hummed softly and lifted his head just enough to kiss my cheek. I raised my eyes and met his; they were wide, brows pinched and raised in a charmingly gentle invitation as he licked his lips. My breath came in hard and heavy while a torrid tempest surged through my chest and settled firmly between my legs.

Mike’s finger twisted around a stray lock of hair by my ear and he smiled shyly, “Wanna watch a movie and make out?”

“Forget the movie,” I breathed and pressed my lips against his.

I was on fire as he took us to the bed and split my thighs over his hips. His lips were forceful, parting me until his tongue brushed over mine. He moved beneath me, hips lifting and creating a subtle friction that was nowhere near enough to satisfy my searing need.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he groaned.

His tongue continued its urgent exploration of my mouth until it felt as if no part of it was untouched. I would have thought such a kiss was one of inexperience if it wasn’t so hungry, dominant and such a fucking turn-on.

“I haven’t gotten the taste of you out of my head since yesterday,” he murmured into my mouth, “How do you taste so fucking good?”

I smiled, feeling my cheeks warm and Mike dropped his head onto the bed and closed his eyes. His hands squeezed my ass, fingers digging so deep that I could feel the pressure of his nails even through my jeans. I laid my head on his chest, the side of my face pressed against his sternum, the sound of his heart beating was as loud as thunder as it echoed in my ear.

“You ok?” he asked. His fingers slid into my hair, combing through its length as his heart slowly fell back into its resting rhythm. 

“Yeah,” I said, wistfully. “You?”

“Yeah.”

“You stopped.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

I felt him take a deep breath, my head lifting as his lungs filled with air. “Because this is nice. I like this.”

I smiled as I shifted my body until I was laying beside him and settled beneath the crook of his shoulder. I lifted my head and kissed his cheek.

“I like this, too.”

When it was time for dinner, Mike led me past the kitchen and into the common room and through into another smaller room. I pulled up short in the doorway, surprised by the scene before me.

Mike had taken me to what appeared to be the Club meeting room that seemed to double as a dining room. On the table were a number of dishes including what looked like a creamy mushroom pasta, a rocket and pear salad, grilled pork and some roasted vegetables and a couple of bottles of wine and beer littered the table.

Each of the Brothers stopped talking as I appeared and each one turned their attention to me. It made me want to shrink in on myself, I was not prepared for this.

“Oh,” I murmured, “Do you guys always eat dinner together?”

Mike nodded, “Yeah. And while you’re here, you can join us.”

As if to support Mike’s invitation, Geralt stood and waved his hand over the empty seat next to him. I swallowed hard and tried not to look at either Walker or Marshall as I took my seat. 

It did not surprise me that Walker sat at the head of the table. Geralt sat on his right hand side, Marshall on his left. Mike sat next to Marshall which left me sitting next to Geralt.

“Do you always eat like this?” I asked, “I mean, this looks really good.” It really did. Nothing like this went on at my Brother’s club. Most of the members didn’t permanently live at the Clubhouse, they had families to live with and most ate at home. The ones that stayed, either permanently living there like Nate or Hustle, or crashing for a party or to get away from the Missus, generally lived off take out or two minute noodles. 

“Thank you,” Walker smirked. 

My eyebrows shot up. “You made this?”

He nodded.

I glanced around at the others, nothing in their faces gave away any sign they were playing a trick on me. I turned back to Walker, who only grinned wider and more mockingly.

“Do you cook every night?” I asked, still incredulous.

“I’ll cook tomorrow,” Geralt said, “We take turns when we are here.”

“How very democratic of you,” I said, addressing my sarcasm towards Walker.

Something in what I said seemed to tickle him and his jeering smile became a sardonic chuckle.

“Here,” Geralt rumbled roughly, holding the tray of pork towards me and shooting a stoney glance towards Walker, “Eat before it gets cold.”

The meal started quietly, but as the alcohol flowed it quickly became lively. Even Marshall seemed to lift his gloomy disposition as he told a story about a prank Geralt and Sy played on Mike last Fourth of July.

“So, Sy and Geralt got together and modified a couple of Roman Candles–”

“Modified?” Mike cried, “Turned into a fucking bomb is more accurate!”

“You squealed like a six-year-old, dropped the thing and ran,” Geralt chuckled, “I still don’t believe that you didn’t shit yourself.”

Marshall started snickering, even Walker had his lips pressed into a tight line as if he were holding back his own laughter.

“I almost lost a hand!” Mike protested, his voice breaking and letting out a little squeak.

The other Brothers glanced at each other and all at once they lost their composure; all three breaking out in simultaneous raucous laughter. 

“Oh sure,” Mike said, folding his arms across his chest, “Pick on the fucking New Guy as always. Why don’t we tell her about the time you tried to pull a wheelie and ended up letting go of the bike and it crashed into Sy’s truck?”

“What?” I looked at Geralt, his face was grim and I burst out laughing.

“Or the time Marshall ate a jalapeno thinking it was a pickle?”

“Oh my God!” I shrieked, “you didn’t?”

“Or the time Walker—”

“Mike!” Walker thundered.

His cheeks were flaming and I couldn’t stop laughing no matter how hard I tried. Tears rolled down my cheeks as Mike mouthed across the table, “I’ll tell you later.”

“You tell her anything and you’ll shit teeth for a week,” Walker growled through gritted teeth as both Marshall and Geralt joined in the laughter.

Walker looked around the table and our eyes met, his eyes dark as a thundercloud rolling across the noon sky. But then, they softened and I saw it again; I saw his facade slip a moment before his guard shot back faster than lightning.

He stood quickly, his chair scraped loudly on the polished timber floor and the laughter trailed off.

“Mike, you’re on clean-up. Princess, I need to see you in the morning.”

I opened my mouth to ask why, but he was already walking out the door.

“Why does he need to see me?” I asked Geralt.

Marshall answered, “We’ve been digging into a few things. He’ll want to talk to you about what we’ve found.”

“About Jake?”

He nodded.

“Can’t you tell me?” I asked.

“I’ll be there in the morning too,” Marshall said reassuringly, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I’m—” I slammed my mouth shut as I looked at Geralt and Mike still sitting at the table. I stood up. “I think I might go to bed.”

Geralt stood too and rested his hand on my shoulder and exerted the smallest amount of pressure until I sat. 

“No. Stay for a bit,” he said to me. Then he addressed Mike as he started to collect empty plates, “Come on, I’ll help you clear the table.”

Mike gave me a short dip of the head and a smile, but didn’t say anything as he gathered as much as he could and followed Geralt to the kitchen.

I glanced at Marshall. He was sitting with a hand on a glass of wine, his long fingers twirling the stem.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat before I spoke. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Marshall shook his head. “You don’t need to apologise.”

“I do. I was confused and angry and took it out on you when you were the only one who actually came out and told me what was going on. I reacted badly and I’m sorry.”

“No harm done.”

I looked down at my hands, the fingernail of my index finger picked at the polish on my thumb. I forced myself to stop and stood up.

“I think I will go to bed,” I said, “it’s been a long day.”

Marshall inclined his head and stood. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Long time reader, first time asker (I’m new to tumblr so sorry if this is formatted wrong or anything)

Have you read/do you have opinions on Meyer’s ‘The Host’? I read it recently and thought you and vinelle might have opinions on e.g

1. the (probably unstable?) four-person relationship between Wanda, Ian, Melanie and Jared at the end, or

2. how Melanie and Wanda would relate to each other after the novel ends (since we see so little of that).

Your and vinelle’s blogs were what got me hooked on tumblr btw, thanks for that :p

I have read it actually, @therealvinelle has as well but it's been longer for her. Here's some previous thoughts in general, thoughts on the fire eaters, and thoughts on the next generation of humans.

There's a lot of interesting shit in The Host along with a lot of the 'fucking weird' Meyer never fails to deliver. I, personally, quite enjoy it.

What's the Future of the Four-Person Relationship?

As you note, I think it's very unstable, and Wanda herself even notes as much both at the end and throughout the course of the novel. The signs are not looking good.

Wanda, of course, points out the obvious at first. She is not the body. To humans, our bodies, for better or worse, are extremely hard to separate from who we are as a person. We think of ourselves in terms of hands, feet, mouths, etc. We change our appearances, or the bodies we're stuck in, to try to suit us better but this causes much strife and hardship.

For Wanda, it's just a body, and there's a very real question of "If I did not look the way I currently look, would you still think of me the way you do?" Ian blusters and tries to argue his way out of it even when Wanda points out she very easily could have been in the body of a human man or even simply a woman he finds unattractive. She came in the body of a young, athletic, good looking woman. That makes a difference.

Later Ian tells Wanda that he purposefully put in no judgement at all with pride, letting the others pick her body. And there's a thought I have there that Ian... is trying a little too hard to be able to tell Wanda that it makes no difference to him. Especially as Wanda ends up in the body of another young, attractive, white woman who Jared picked specifically to pull on an observer's heartstrings.

The issue of "you sure you want to tap that, Ian?" is never really addressed or resolved for all that Wanda lets it go at the end of the novel.

We also have the plotline that Jared... seems to fall in love with Wanda. It becomes difficult to differentiate Melanie and Wanda when they're the same person and as the story goes along he seems to have more and more respect for Wanda and at the end even chooses to save her life despite it going a) against his beliefs and everything he's been fighting for b) puts Melanie back in the hot seat. By saving Wanda and putting her in storage, keeping her on Earth, he is condemning a human to death. Now, they sort of wriggle out of that by choosing a braindead human who will never come back, but the point remains that this goes against their principles. They are enabling their own takeover in this manner, and relying upon the horrific things the souls have done to their species to keep Wanda with them. Not to mention, if they hadn't found anyone... Melanie would have volunteered to take Wanda back. Something that Jared should never ever want and should have made entirely impossible.

Then of course we get Jared's hungry eyes in the last chapter, when Wanda's in a new body, where she wonders, "What the fuck is he confused about? I'm the only one who's an entirely different person now!"

Adding to this, of course, that Melanie was 17 and a refugee when she and Jared started their... "not sexual because he's a gentleman" relationship. They weren't together very long, stakes and passion was high, and Melanie loved him primarily because he made her feel secure. So long as she's with him, she and her brother will never be caught.

That's great and all, but do they really know each other all that much or value each other much beyond being two people they could rely on? Then, of course for Jared, a symbol of what the souls had personally taken from him then butchered in the form of Wanda coming crawling back with Melanie's body.

Then, of course, there's "How attracted was Ian to Melanie anyway?" And he puts on a good show, but again, he seems to be trying very very hard to show Wanda that he's not into that at all. Ian is a Soul Man, that squishy human exterior is nothing to him. He'd totally bang Wanda if she was in a dude. Totally.

None of that spells good things for anybody.

I suspect disaster will strike.

Jared and Melanie will probably fall apart first as Melanie realizes that Jared has feelings for Wanda. Not helping, of course, that he specifically picked out Wanderer's new digs because he liked the way they looked.

Ian and Wanda might limp along further, but Wanda will likely always know that their physical relationship is contingent on the body she happens to be in and whatever her body's hormones decides "me like" today. I imagine she'd mostly feel bad for Ian, and not want to bring up that this is something of a farce.

With added drama as Melanie and Jared fall apart.

How Do Melanie and Wanda Relate to Each Other After the End

I have more hope in that one.

These two went through hell together and both have nearly died for the other's sake. For all Wanda took, she gave Melanie back her family, gave her people a future at great cost to herself and her people, and gave Melanie the love of her life back.

Melanie would be horrified at Jared's affection for her, and is very upset about it throughout the book, but she can't rationally blame Wanda for it and knows it. By the end of the book, she seems to be pretty even keeled about that whole thing when it comes to Wanda's end of the equation.

I imagine the pair remain very close.

Your Delightful Praise

Thank you! Look @therealvinelle praise!

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken Trust, pt.4

Part one // Part two // Part three  

Summary: Time passes, but certain things don’t change. In light of their emotions, both make a choice that will inevitably lead them to one another - for better or worse.

Warnings: angst (my apologies), fluff sprinkled on top

a/n - It’s likely the last one before the finale, so settle in and get some tissues.

========================

Y/N swore she’ll never be so stupid, so naïve, so helpless ever again when she  left the orphanage. She swore she’d be stronger, for herself and Mal, yet she found herself in the very same position.

Mal returned to her side, alive unlike what she believed. In a way, Aleksander couldn’t take away the one person she had left and a small part of her loved him more because of it. Mal wrapped his arms around her, aware nothing he says would do them any good as she began to cry. She didn’t want to, she didn’t want anyone to see her weakness for the man she’s supposed to hate. She couldn’t help it, though. She felt utterly alone and helpless. She felt like her mind and heart are breaking into two – one meant to love Aleksander and the other meant for hate.

Her screams echoed long into the night, filled with raging despair and the sorrowful betrayal she had been a victim of. After all, it’s those we love who hurt us most and she didn’t break quietly. It felt like every atom of her being screamed in unison, traumatized by all the things she kept inside since she was a child. She thought she was safe with Aleksander, that she could entrust her heart and soul to him. And she could, but she’d have to sacrifice who she is in return and she caught herself wishing she could. Y/N wished she could shed that part of herself that saw the world as black and white, to see it in the same shade of grey Aleksander did, but she couldn’t.

When the wracking sobs passed, she cried in such a desolate way that Mal couldn’t bear to listen for long.

“We need to go”, Mal whispered, looking around anxiously. They’ve stayed for too long, her cries have been too loud. He could feel it in his bones, if they didn’t leave, something sinister would happen. “Please, Y/N.”

Mal attempts to help her up, but she sinks to her knees. Her entire body is trembling, inconsolable. Y/N found herself robbed of her ability to love and trust, not only others but herself for her heart had lied to her mind who trusted the muscle blindly. It’s much more painful than a simple betrayal – she would have taken a dagger to the heart much kinder than what he had done to her.

And she hated him with burning passion for leaving now. If he persisted, she wasn’t certain if she’d be capable of resisting him much longer. But he left. He told her he loves her, her told her he would be kind to her and then he left her for trying to save his soul.

“If we do not leave now, we will be killed!” Mal raises his voice and she flinches, snapping out of her thoughts. She stands, her tears glistening in the faint light of the moonlight above them. Nodding, she walks with Mal, refusing to wipe the tears away.

She might not be like Aleksander, she might not share his darkness, but she is too proud to surrender, too proud to bend, too proud to lose. If he wants to make war instead of love, she’ll give it to him.

“How do I look?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, hands on her hips as she twirled.

Her cheeky smile acted like a wrecking ball for the wall the Darkling erected long ago, meant to keep the light out. He cultivated his darkness, convinced it would give him all his heart desires, yet the sight of Y/N struggling to stand with his kefta engulfing her the same his arms would if they embraced, it had rendered him speechless.

Y/N’s smile falters in the silence, her eyebrows furrowing as a frown crinkles her forehead. “Should I not have done this?”

The disappointment in her voice forced Aleksander to act, shaking his head while sending her a disarming smile.

"No, it's fine. I just didn't expect you to wear my clothes."

On any given day, she’d be blushing at the sight of his smile. His smile had healing properties as far she was concerned, but today wasn’t an ordinary day and her nerves made her particularly sensitive. Pursing her lips, she attempts to fold her arms with the extra fabric making it much harder, while casting her gaze to the ground. “You don’t like it.”

Raising his eyebrows, his smile grows. He comes closer, placing his index finger under her chin to tilt her head, properly meeting her gaze. "On the contrary", he speaks slowly and clearly, "I find you irresistible."

If she didn’t know any better, Y/N would have guessed he was the Sun Summoner with the way his glowing smile set her alight.

Licking her lips drew his attention, his eyes flickering down momentarily. It seemed like such an innocent moment, but it was enough to make her hands shake in anticipation.

Sighing, Y/N forces her eyes open. While she kept Aleksander out of her mind during the day, the nights favored his memory. It had been an almost that came to her dream, their almost first kiss when she had been in Little palace for a full month – she remembers because he made the dinner all about her presence.

No matter how hard she tried to let it go – to let him go, she always found herself clutching her chest in the morning. She wondered if she ever crossed his mind, almost a year since they’ve parted. Does his heart ache the same? Is that why she had hardly heard anything of him?

Her mind conjured up the worst, most painful explanations in the lonely nights. She wondered if he ever truly loved her and if he had, where had the love gone?

Can a person just stop loving someone? Did Aleksander Morozova finally stop loving her?

She wanted to stop loving him, but she couldn’t. She found herself making up excuses in his place to cover up the mistakes he’s made. In this distance that was freezing her soul and collapsing her heart, Y/N’s sole wish was to meet with her darling Darkling again. But she couldn’t travel to Little palace with the knowledge that he likely didn’t want her there or that he’d still further his plans despite her wishes. She’d have been by his side if he truly wanted her with him.

If he loved her enough, he wouldn’t have deceived her.

If he loved her enough, he would have helped her destroy the fold.

If he loved her enough, he would be here to reassure her instead of letting her question everything.

“I can do this”, she whispered under her breath, reassuring herself. She spent so many months trying to conjure up enough light and maintain enough control for it to seem Aleksander wasn’t wrong about her.

She wanted to make him proud, to draw him in with her light ever since he named her Sunshine. It’s silly, but the endearing name passing his lips made her insides quiver and she was prepared to do anything to hear it again. After all, if she does spectacularly well during an evening where she’s the main attraction, she was certain he’d see her as the only woman in the world.

Yet, as she makes her first few steps into the room, Y/N realizes she was wrong. She hasn’t done anything yet, but his eyes are chained to her regardless. The way he’s looking at her now makes her feel as if she is the only woman in the world that matters.

She saw his chest rise as he drew breath, then he was coming toward her, moving with his usual predatory grace and the intimidating flare. She wasn’t sure which she found more unnerving the intimidating Darkling or the graceful General.

"We are matching", she presses her lips to suppress an excited smile creeping up on her. She didn't expect his kefta to match hers despite his request to wear it. For Y/N, it felt strangely intimate, but she welcomed intimacy as long as it was with him.

“You look stunning”, he breathes out, a handsome smile appearing on his lips as he holds out his hand for her to take.

She doesn’t hesitate, awestruck by the twinkle in his dark eyes.

“They tell me you refused the gloves”, he raises his eyebrows.

Lifting her shin up, she smirks, “Have faith in me.”

Leaning in, Aleksander’s nose brushes her earlobe, “I never said I don’t.”

Helping her up on the stage, Aleksander stepped before her. She could hardly focus on his words, staring at his broad shoulders as they entirely shielded her from curious glances. He eclipsed her long enough for nerves to subside and she was grateful.

“You still think you’re ready?” Mal settles beside her, lips pressed as he looks at her disheveled state.

Clearing her throat, she nods, “I’ve never been stronger.”

“I know, but if you need more time –“, Mal begins, but Y/N’s irritated glare shut him up.

“We head to the fold today.” Taking a sip of her water, Y/N stands, intent on going into the woods.

“You love him”, Mal’s words stop Y/N in her tracks. “I know you do. It’s why you suffer so much in his absence.“

Swallowing thickly, she exhales through her nose to stop herself from saying anything she might regret. There’s a reason she refused to speak about Aleksander with Mal, with anyone if she could help it. Other than occasionally asking around if he’s been seen, Y/N had kept him out of her mouth. Mal couldn’t understand her feelings, he never would. She knew it to be true.

Aleksander is still an active heartache she couldn’t heal with time nor practice. Truth be told, she wanted him with her all the time. She wanted him there to cuddle when she’s on the brink of breaking, for him to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and remind her she’s loved. She wanted him there when she bathes to splash water in each other’s faces like children, to hear him gasping for air when he laughs so freely like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

She is his. Despite the way things started, she was truly his and no amount of denial will ever change that. Unable to form words, Y/N closed her eyes as her face contorted. Her lips pressed together to hold in a sob and her head hurt from all the pressure building up in her attempt to stop herself from falling apart. But she couldn’t. There were no walls left inside her to hold the hurt encased from her mind any longer. She was shattering after nearly a year and a half of being strong – silent as she missed him, as she loved him, as she defended him from herself.

Meanwhile, in Little palace, Aleksander sat in her old room with her blue kefta in hand. He brings it up to his face, inhaling the faded scent in hope of remembering the warmth mere traces of her scent could evoke. He missed the smell of her hair when he buried his face in her neck, the gentle touch of her skin, the sweetness of her lips.

"May I ask for a dance?” He asked her with a half-smile, surprised she seemed reluctant to take his hand after her demonstration. “I won't bite”, he winks, making her roll her eyes and giggle simultaneously.

“I can hardly dance”, she admits, nibbling on her lower lip mercilessly.

Taking her hand with his right hand, he brought her closer with his left hand on her hip. She gasps, caught off guard as she looks at him with amusement.

He raises an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle as he begins to sway her from side to side.

"When I first saw you, I couldn't get over how breathtakingly beautiful you are.” Aleksander tells her, the softest smile adorning his lips and she wished she could just reach out and touch them to see if they feel just as soft as they look. “I tried to stop you from leaving because I was bewitched by you, but then your light came out and I couldn't believe how lucky I was."

Inhaling sharply, she stared at him with lips parted in uncertainty. “So you’d say you care for me?”

Sighing heavily, Aleksander leaned his forehead on his palms, realizing not much work would be done as her face is all he thinks of, all he sees. The night he walked away, he finally saw what his love had brought her – pain and suffering. He took all she was and picked her soul apart until she was left void of love, of hate, of all emotion. After so many lifetimes, the Saints answered his prayers and sent him a dream encased in a good woman, to love and to care for and he had ruined her.

Loneliness was a punishment too kind for his awful actions.

He thought what would have happened if he had given her the truth before – had he told her what he knew, but also what he kept from her. Maybe she’d understand, maybe she would have stayed. Would their bond grow stronger? 

It couldn’t be worse than it is now.

That’s his fault as well.

Pressing his lips together, Aleksander closed his eyes for a moment. “I’d say you’re the light of my life and I never want to see it dim.”

Dipping her, his lips pause at her throat and he could feel the exact moment her breath halted, caught right below his lips. He could feel her quiver, gripping his arm strongly but not out of fear of being dropped, but from a need to be closer.

Bringing her upright, he had no more desire to remain among the people where every action is judged, controversial. He wanted to take her somewhere where he could just be Aleksander, more than the Darkling they branded him as.

“Want to go somewhere more private?” She tilts her head ever so slightly to glance at the grand entry door, waiting for his response. He couldn’t believe how easily she read his mind.

Instead of speaking, he simply pulls her toward the door, feeling as if he had been given a chance to do what he never thought was possible – live. To live and possibly love.

Once they entered his room, closest to them from the reception, Aleksander stopped. He turns to her with a smirk, his hand still holding onto hers. His fingers curl around it gently, encasing it. Slowly, he brings the hand up to his lips, leaving a feather light kiss on her wrist while her cheeks darkened.

Y/N couldn’t ignore the smile upon his lips. Smiles are supposed to be soft and inviting, but his is charming and deadly. She knew he had captured her heart and no matter what she does, he’s rooted deep inside her. He’ll always run through her veins, even if they part.

Problem is, she didn’t mind it. Not at all.

She could feel her lips tingle, parting in need. All she wants is to press her lips against his, close her eyes and take him in. She didn’t care about her previously established beliefs, she’d burn them all down for a single kiss. Barely holding onto who she was before she met her sweet Darkling, Y/N cups his cheek.

His eyes are alight with desire and craving he’s been suppressing for a long time, intoxicating her, captivating her.

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him down and he complies. His forehead rests on Y/N’s, the tip of his nose brushing hers while her fingertips grasp at the short hair at the back of his head. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes closing, so she allows herself the comfort of closing her own while bridging the distance between them. 

She presses her lips firmly onto his and the world melts away. His hand clasps gently into the back of her hair, pressing in softly. His lips are softness, passion, the promise of the sweetness to come.

Pulling back for a air, she hears the breathless chuckle accompanying his dashing smile.

“That was a perfect kiss”, she pecks his lips once more and he feels his heart stop. At a loss for words, he blinks a couple of times, seeing her lips curve into a small smile.

“Don’t go shy on me now, Sunshine.”

Aleksander remembered how they made love that night, leisurely, savoring each other’s bodies until their passion mounted. He thought about all the times she had given herself to him willingly and yet it felt like he was the one who gave her small pieces of himself each time. He loved not knowing what to expect with her for she was never the same twice. One time she would be quiet and sensual, the next aggressive and demanding. At other times she would be laughing and teasing. But no matter how she was, he loved loving her. Even the thought of touching her excited him.

She drove him mad, but she also showed him what it means to love someone. She could have killed him at any given moment had it been her true desire, just as he could have done the same to her and yet he couldn’t. Even thinking about someone hurting her upsets him.

Y/N could have stayed or killed him, he’d be fine with either way. At least then he wouldn’t suffer alone. She let him go so easily that he couldn’t help but think her love was never his. He wished he didn’t resent her for it, because a part of him wished she’d let him go long before, he wished for her to go far away from him where she’d be happier.

In his eyes swam ghosts of regrets and self-loathing, for he could have done a lot of things much better, made her life much easier. He could have been a better choice for her, a happy ending she’s deserving of. But he had already messed everything up and it is easier to have her see him as the bad guy. 

She’d let him go easier.

“General?” Ivan paused in the doorway, aware no one’s allowed in Y/N’s room and he valued his life greatly, far too much to dare take another step.

Swallowing thickly, Aleksander remained on the bed while the Darkling rose to his feet. He had been planning for too long, hiding away from what needs to be done. It was time to act and the Darkling’s mind is made up.

“We’re heading to the fold today.”

PART 5

[mercy-burning]

Move This Along

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k

Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰

***

The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.

She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.

But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.

To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.

That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.

And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.

Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.

She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.

Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."

Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."

"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."

She paused. "They... do?"

"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."

Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.

"You really think so?"

Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'

"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."

A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.

Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.

In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.

One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.

Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."

"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."

Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.

She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."

She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.

Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.

He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.

He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.

"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.

"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"

"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."

She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.

Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.

"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.

Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.

He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.

And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.

So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."

Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.

Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"

Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."

"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.

He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.

"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.

"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."

Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.

***

The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.

"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."

"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"

"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."

"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."

Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."

He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.

When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.

His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.

This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.

But tonight he didn't want that.

Tonight he wanted more.

While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.

Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.

Still, she pulled away.

Well... She tried to.

When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.

"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."

"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."

She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."

She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.

"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.

Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.

But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.

So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.

Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."

As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.

So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.

"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"

The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."

Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.

Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.

And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.

As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.

Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.

"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.

Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.

He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.

With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.

Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."

"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"

Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.

And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.

He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.

When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.

She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.

He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.

"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."

He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.

To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.

Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.

The mere thought had him trembling.

He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."

Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.

Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."

He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.

Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.

"W—wait."

She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"

He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."

"I don't follow..."

"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."

Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"

Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."

They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.

"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."

Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."

The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—

Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.

"Lay down?"

"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.

Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.

She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"

"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.

It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—

"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.

He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.

But he had to.

She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."

With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.

She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.

"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."

The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.

He wanted to go faster.

So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"

Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.

"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"

"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."

"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."

He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."

He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.

His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."

Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.

"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."

Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.

By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."

They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.

Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"

Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."

"Good. This was much better."

Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.

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[startanewdream]

Written for @efkgirldetective's Summer of Jily Prompt #7 (Ice cream + "I don't want anybody else touching you like I do).

Tumblr exclusive at the moment because I don't have a title and the 'happy ending' part of the 'angst with a happy ending' was lost somewhere.

Rated M.

I will love to hear your thoughts about this!

_______________

I.

She is at the end of her round, going towards his cabin—her friends’ cabin, though Lily knows exactly who she is hoping to meet there—when she hears it.

‘—and Potter, what a waste. He won’t ever join him.’

‘We should just wipe him away. Blood traitor, muggle lover—’

‘You mean mudblood lover, Severus?’ Avery’s voice is tinted with malice and there are snickers around. ‘Potter and Evans seem pretty close nowadays. Do you think she gives him everything she denied you?’

‘I would never filth myself,’ comes Snape’s cold reply. ‘If he is tainting his blood, all the worse for him.’

Taint his blood. Is this what Lily’s presence does to James? Is she putting him in a danger he didn’t need to be just by being closer to him?

It’s Snape’s words and she shouldn’t listen to him—the days where she would hear him, would admire him, are long gone—but when she finally reaches the cabin (when James grins at the sight of her, bright and warm, and her heart skips a beat and Lily has to smile back), she sits away from James.

‘Anything wrong?’ he asks, familiar enough to read the tension on her face.

‘No, all normal,’ Lily says, and it’s the first lie.

______

II.

It’s summer and everyone is out of age now and apparating makes things so easy that Lily finds herself less and less at home during that break.

She tells herself it’s because she is avoiding the presence of her sister’s annoying fiance; she blames the fact that Dorcas has a beach house and it’s so much better spending days swimming and tanning; she even goes introspective to blame the pressure of the war looming over them in a way that means she needs to enjoy the last summer break before real life gets them.

But she knows the reason is James.

She finds herself gravitating towards him, unable to resist that attraction even as she knows how dangerous it is for him. Once or twice Lily thinks of telling him about it, of warning how he is stupidly raising his stakes by being near her, but she gives up only for the fact that this (might drive him away and she doesn't want it, not really) would probably just make him want to be even closer to her.

And they are already alarmingly close.

Once Lily would have been repulsed by that idea, but one year later everything has changed—James has changed—and everything about him appeals to her. The way he cares for everyone around him. The way he smiles patiently whenever he is explaining something. The way he grins as if to invite the world to share a great funny joke with him. How he runs his hand through his hair when he’s nervous. How he is so expansive that he seems to occupy any room he is in. How he loves flying, even more than Quidditch, and how relaxed he seems when he is on a broom. How he talks to her, taking it seriously when she needs to and making a joke when things get too serious. How he opens up about his own life and doubts and listens to her.

That would make them friends, really good friends, but then Lily’s heart would not stop racing when he’d touched her hand, or when their knees would bump while sitting closely in the library and then she was forced to note all the physical aspects—the muscles of his arms, the shape of full lips, the line of his jaw, the hazel kaleidoscope of his eyes and how fit he was—and give up any belief her feelings were limited to a friendship.

She fancies him, okay.

Except it’s not okay, because it’s dangerous and by now Lily is positive that James knows it too. Everyone knows it.

They end up together, just the two of them, a lot during that summer. It takes Lily a few days to realize it’s not a coincidence that her interests never align with those of her friends—if she wants to swim, somehow it’s only her and James in the sea; at night, even though it’s still so warm, they are the only ones who venture into the pool for a midnight swim, while the others stay stubbornly indoors.

When Lily suggests going to town to grab an ice cream, somehow James is the only one who is in the mood for it, despite the heat.

It’s not on purpose from his part—at least that’s how Lily sees it—but he isn’t refusing her company either and neither is she refusing his, so James’ boldness flourishes that summer. It’s not cocky as it once would be, it’s just a quiet acceptance that something is finally happening between them as if he never stopped believing it would be possible. Lily feels it when he throws his arm around her shoulders when they are sitting close, almost absently, almost not noticing when Lily lays her head over his shoulder; it’s there when he openly gawks the first time he sees her in a swimming suit, only to be nudged in the ribs by Sirius and then complimenting her ('good thing you wear robes at school, Evans, or there wouldn’t be much schoolwork done'). It’s definitely there when he intertwines their hands, pulling her to the sea with him.

And it’s there when they are sitting closer than they would need for a bench so wide, watching seagulls flying over the sea, each one holding an ice cream.

‘Chocolate chips with chocolate cover and chocolate sprinkles,’ James teases. ‘I think you have an addiction, Lily.’

‘Guilty,’ she replies, not ashamed at all, proving her ice cream and very aware of how James is staring at her. ‘It’s better than asking for vanilla ice cream.’

‘Hey!’ He would look deeply offended if not for the grin on his lips. ‘I’ll let you know vanilla is the best flavour.’

‘Never took you for a vanilla guy, James.’

‘What would take me for? The adventurous gorgeous type?’

Lily laughs, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t want to lie to him and deny it.

‘Attractive mysterious type, then?’ he insists. ‘Handsome scoundrel?’

‘I notice your beauty is enhanced a lot.’

‘My beauty? So you admit that I’m beautiful, Evans?’

‘Do I need to? You seem to already know it.’

‘I enjoy hearing you saying all the same,’ he says, and though James shrugs easily she can sense the shift in his eyes, the nervous glint there. ‘That means we would make a beautiful couple.’

‘We would,’ she whispers, still not wanting to lie.

She turns back her attention to the ice cream, already melting under the scorching sun. It makes a mess, and James laughs as she tries to lick the ice cream out of her hands, but then his laugh dies and she watches him swallow slowly, reacting. He always reacts to her.

She licks her lips now, and he also watches this movement, the grin on his face replaced by concentration—no, determination, a fierce look and Lily knows what James will do even before he raises his hand to slide his thumb at the corner of her mouth.

‘You missed here,’ he says, and though he must have wiped off the ice cream already, his caress remains.

His eyes are dark now, even under the sunlight, and he registers how Lily hasn’t stepped back, how she raises her head just the slightest to get closer to him. His gaze strays to her lips, Lily blinks, and then James looks back at her.

‘Lily,’ he says, and it’s a question.

‘James,’ she says, and it’s the only answer she can give him.

His lips find hers and in the bright darkness that surrounds Lily when she closes her eyes, she can see everything in colour. The white of his taste of vanilla. The green of his perfume that reminds her of early mourning in the woods. The brown of his skin as he pulls her closer, one hand holding the back of her neck and the other hand finding hers, locking their fingers together. The red of her blood pumping furiously through her veins, so loud and unstoppable.

And she sees him, messy dark hair, hazel bright eyes, her own sun.

But when they break apart, when she watches him keeping his eyes closed a second longer—savouring it, remembering it—, all that comes to her mind it’s the warning.

Taint his blood.

Her smile falters.

‘James,’ she whispers, all warmth of the day gone, hating everything but herself so much more when he opens his eyes and they are filled with hope. ‘This doesn’t mean anything.’

And this is the second lie she tells him.

___________

III.

Summer is over as far as Lily is concerned, but they still have two weeks in which she forces a smile up to her lips that doesn’t fool anyone.

Everyone knows something happened, though no one knows exactly what, and Lily feels too tired to pretend everything is normal. James barely acknowledges her when they are in the same room, and in the few occasions their eyes meet, there is nothing of that familiarity that he once thrived to share with her. He looks confused and hurt.

Lily could deal with the confusion but she is powerless against the hurt. She is the one who damaged him after all.

Their friends are mostly adamant in letting them deal with the situation, one notable exception being Sirius Black, but Lily didn’t expect anything less from him. He watches her rather resentfully in the first days, and Lily starts looking for excuses to avoid attending the events she had carefully arranged with them (with James, sitting by the edge of the lake, holding a scroll against his back as they wrote everything they would do, laughing and planning and hoping).

The summer days are hot, unbearably hot, and the breeze that comes through the window of her room isn’t enough. She could cast a Cooling Charm, but her wand is far away and the fact that she can cast spells outside school has lost its appeal now. She doesn't even celebrate when her school letter comes with a badge attached to it.

Most of the time Lily just stares at the ceiling of her room, finding patterns in the painting that aren’t really there, too strained and too tired to avoid being even more strained—her mind keeps replaying the moment James leaned closer, the brief moment his breath tingled her skin and the softness of his lips over hers, and Lily has no strength to avoid it. She is addicted to it, to the one thing she had a taste of and cannot have again.

Five days into hiding (she is hiding, Lily won’t deny it), her sister knocks on her door to tell her unceremoniously that one of her freak friends has come to visit her.

‘Hurry, I don’t want Vernon finding him when he arrives,’ Petunia tells her, and Lily ignores her completely.

Him, she said. Him, Lily thinks, and her mind conjures James sitting on the couch of her parents’ living room, a grin on his lips as he charms his way with her parents (he charmed her, Lily doesn’t see what challenge her parents would present), accepting a cup of tea and looking around trying to understand all the muggle contraptions in that muggle house—

Muggle lover. All the worse for him.

She rushes downstairs, her heart pounding on her head, her mouth dry with the excuses she will have to present (go away, just go away) but it’s not James after all.

Sirius looks even more out of place than the James she imagined inside her head, standing with his arms crossed in that pastel living room, and with an unhappy grimace on his lips. He turns at the sound of her, his grey eyes burning disapprovingly—and then, as he stares at her, his expression shifts.

‘You are a mess, Evans.’

Self-consciousness washes over her, and Lily runs her hand through her hair—or tries to, because it gets stuck in the knots of her messy braid. She knows she hasn’t changed clothes ever since she woke up, though it’s nearly midday, so she does the only thing she can: she presses her lips, crosses her arms and tries to look unfazed.

‘I wasn’t expecting a visit,’ she says. It’s summer break, she can do nothing all day.

‘I didn’t even mean your appearance. It was more your… aura.’

‘Aura,’ she repeats, a tiny part of her finding this amusing, but Lily can’t muster strength enough to break a smile. ‘Very mystical, Sirius.’

‘That’s me, master of occult arts. But in this case, I just needed to look at you. You—you look miserable.’

‘Thanks. If that’s all you wanted to say—’

‘Oh, no, I came here to give you a piece of my mind about how you broke my best friend’s heart, but you look somehow worse than him. What’s going on?’

Lily shrugs. ‘Nothing.’

‘So you just decided to play with his feelings and ditch him the moment he corresponded?’

His words are a poison that crawls through her skin, entering it slowly but certain; Lily feels it reaching her bloodstream, spreading through every part of her body, until the poison finds her heart. She thought she was oblivious to pain after the last days, but she was wrong.

‘I wasn’t playing with his feelings,’ she whispers, her voice hoarse, so close to breaking.

‘Then what? I thought—everyone thought—you fancied him too. Merlin, Evans, that boy was in love with you.’

The worst part is that Lily knows it. It was not a play to James, it never was. She saw it in the way his face lighted up at the sight of her, how eager he was to become friends once Lily first extended her peace flag. She saw how his eyes always looked first for her in any room he entered, how he’d find any reason to stay closer.

And she saw everything because she was paying attention.

Of course she was. One does not fall in love also if not paying attention.

‘I don’t know what to say, Sirius,’ Lily says truthfully. ‘I am sorry for all the confusion I’ve caused.’

‘Sorry is not enough.’

‘I know.’

Sirius watches her with something that borders on disappointment now. ‘You better find a way of fixing this, Evans.’

‘I—I don’t know how. I’m trying to keep my distance—’

‘And how is that helping you two?’

It’s not, Lily knows, and that’s the point. She can’t explain to James what is the problem and she is afraid that if she sees him again, if her determination falters her for one second—

‘We are going to have a party tomorrow night,’ Sirius says, his voice leaving no room for argument. ‘Dorcas’ house. It’s a goodbye party, we even invited the muggle neighbours. You’ll come, you’ll find James and you’ll talk. Fix this.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You better find a way, Evans, because that thing of keeping your distance? Well, Hogwarts letter came yesterday. Let me guess, you are Head Girl.’

Lily nods, not understanding where Sirius is heading with this.

‘Guess who’s Head Boy this year?’

____________

Lily hears the music as soon as she disapparates near Dorcas’ house. People, young people around her age, are walking towards the house and she joins the flow letting herself get lost in that stream of people, hoping it’s enough to not draw attention to her presence.

It’s useless. As soon as she crosses the doorway, Dorcas cries for her, her voice louder than the music, and then people look at her curiously.

‘Merlin, Lily!’ Dorcas cries, ignoring everyone in the room to whom that sentence makes no sense. ‘I thought I would need to invade the Prefect’s Cabin to see you again.’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Lily says, accepting Dorcas’ hug, and using it as an excuse to avoid looking around. ‘I had stuff to do.’

It’s vague, it’s almost a lie, and Dorcas is on the edge of discussing it when Lily says she is going to get a drink, leaving the room.

When she reaches the kitchen, Lily considers that having herself questioned by Dorcas was preferable, because of course she runs into James at the first opportunity.

And of course he already has a company.

He is with his back to her, holding a bottle of beer in his hand while he talks with a pretty dark-haired girl. In another time Lily would find amusing how James obviously has no idea what he’s talking about—muggle rock bands, a subject that Sirius would fare better—, but she can’t break a smile right now, because she sees that James is trying.

That’s what he is doing with that unknown girl. He is making a real effort to keep a conversation, trying to understand what she is saying; he is trying to look interesting, to gather her attention.

Ten days, she thinks selfishly. We kissed ten days ago and I can’t stop thinking about it and you are flirting with another girl.

He must sense her staring; he turns around, and his eyes find her for a brief second before Lily bolts through the door (she is running, and she won’t deny it), grabbing the first bottle she sees on her way out.

Sirius must have lied to her (you broke my best friend’s heart), because James looks normal. Not hurt anymore, just… normal. Not like he used to like her in those first glorious days of the summer—bright and hopeful and awaiting—but as if she is just anyone else. Ordinary.

It’s fair, all things considered. She couldn’t expect him to remain in love with the girl who kissed him then rejected him. But she sees it, clearly as day, what the future holds: James will move on whatever he feels for her (that boy was in love with you) and then he will do with someone else everything he used to do with her—that inviting grins, the glint in his eyes, throwing his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer, so… intimate. Familiar. Hers.

He will share with others what used to be hers.

She leaves the house, in search of a quiet place at the beach to sit on, and looks at the bottle in her hands. Wine. Not good. She will take forever to get drunk on wine and afterwards the headache won’t even be worth it.

But it’s all she has and James is somewhere in that house flirting with a girl (that’s not her) that didn’t reject him and he has every right to do it. Even if it’s a muggle girl. Even if the reason Lily is not with him is that she is muggleborn.

It’s ironic and it’s sad, but it’s not the same. This is a one-night thing. It’s the end of the summer, he’s probably just looking for the last bit of carefree summer adventure as the single guy he is. They will just dance with each other, close together, enjoying their freedom, finding a secluded room, and he will touch the corner of her lips, asking, and she will say yes because that’s the only answer she can give him.

It won’t mean anything, but this time it will be true and this time James won’t get hurt by it.

Maybe Lily should do the same. Not to get even, but to start her own way forward. She can’t be harbouring her feelings for him—wasn’t that the point of not advancing things? Wasn’t that why she lied to him? (That kiss had meant everything)

She takes a sip of the wine, then another and one more for good measure, and she rises, almost colliding with him. Of course.

‘Hey,’ he says awkwardly, arms extended to steady her. It lasts less than a second, but his hands over her arms burn all the same, stronger than the heat any day of that summer.

‘Hi.’

He is looking at a point over her head, unable to meet her eyes, his hand lifting the hair at the back of his head and Lily remembers running her fingers through the strands of his hair while they were kissing, enjoying the fact that for once she was the one messing it.

‘Look, I’m just gonna say it, okay?’ James says in a rush, not as when he is excitedly talking about something he finds interesting. ‘I’m sorry for—for everything.’

Everything. What does it mean?

‘I am too,’ she answers carefully. He takes a deep breath.

‘I heard we are going to be Heads this year—I don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking, really—and I don’t want things to be weird between us.’

Weird. Things were never weird between them before. They weren’t friends, then Lily barely stood him, then they were acquaintances, then they were friends, then they were flirting with each other and then they were so close to something.

But never weird.

Somehow this notion helps to clear the fog in her head.

‘I don’t want it either,’ Lily says, and there is no doubt in her voice. James seems to breathe again with her words.

‘Good.’ There is a moment of silence. ‘Can we forget everything and go back to being just friends?’

Lily steels herself. She takes a look at James’ face—his eyes are on her forehead now, almost meeting her eyes but not yet ready—, one last look to admire him in the darkness of the beach and she is not lying when she says: ‘We can.’

By the end of the night it will be a lie, though, and that’s number three.

___________

They are trying and because no one tries better than James Potter, they are almost achieving it.

They go back to the house, keeping a safe distance between them so no one could misinterpret it, but whatever their friends see in their faces seems to relax everyone. Lily and James are fine, they believe, they are over that weird thing between them, and Lily starts believing it too.

She can do it.

A bottle of gin finds its way towards her group and the music is exciting. It’s a party, she is on a party, and it’s easy to join Dorcas in the middle of a dance, and it’s even easier when Dorcas is replaced by a cute muggle boy who doesn’t look anything like James (that’s why it’s easier—it takes only one second for her to look for any similarity and find none and it’s so easy).

She wonders if that’s why James was talking to that dark-haired girl. If he was avoiding finding Lily in someone else too.

But that’s a bad thought, it’s not a thought of someone who’s trying (and Lily is, she swears), so she accepts his arms, let who-knows-his-name twirl her around the room, but when he leans in to kiss her, she laughs and diverts—she is trying, but it takes small steps, so she says something about getting another drink and goes to the next room.

That’s a mistake.

A big, big mistake.

She finds them sitting close together on a couch that should only fit one, joining some silly drinking game. His arm is around her shoulders, holding a glass that’s nearly finished; they are laughing and as Lily watches it, the girl leans closer to speak something in his ear, her hand playing with the curls of his hair as she speaks. It takes a full second, but he grins, turning to her and winking.

It could be nothing, it could be just some joke, but it’s not harmless, Lily knows it. It’s a flirt, and James has every right to do it; he is free and Lily has just told him they can be friends. Friends don’t get jealous. Friends don’t get their hearts ripped out with the sight of the other smiling happily at someone else.

Lily can’t do it at all.

So she turns away and runs once more (she’s getting quite good at it by now), sprinting upstairs in search of an empty room, somewhere where she can rest until she can breathe again, until she can rearrange her expression into something normal enough for her to come back to the party, find that blond guy who is not James and enjoy her summer break as he is doing right now.

Until she can pretend everything is normal.

‘Lily?’

His voice breaks the silence of that room—though Lily knows she would have heard it anyway—and it sends a wave of panic through her body. She is not ready. She can’t look at him and still keep her promise.

James doesn’t know about her troubles—he is trying after all, and he is so much better at this than Lily will ever be—so he walks towards her, takes a look at her face and kneels in front of her.

‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ she says, unable to lie. He would see through her anyway.

‘I saw you leaving—what happened?’

‘I need more time. I can’t...’

‘Can’t what?’ She doesn’t answer. James sighs. ‘Are you drunk? Come on, rest a little, I will bring you some water—’

‘I’m not drunk,’ Lily says. Another truth. ‘I just need—I want—’

‘What?’

In answer, she raises her hand and lets her fingers comb his hair. He shivers, his breath catching, his eyes widening and he holds her arm to stop the movement. Nervous. Insecure. She can’t fault him. They’ve been there before, at the edge of something, and she accepted only to turn him away a second later.

‘What are you doing?’

It’s a demand more than a question, and Lily attends it. ‘I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do. It’s mine.’

Her voice is ferocious and unfair and Lily waits for his cold reply, the one she deserves—she has no right to claim any part of him—, but it never comes. Instead, James blinks.

‘Then take it,’ he challenges. Lily does.

Her lips crash over his, and this time is not soft or patient. It’s desperate and when she tastes the whiskey in his mouth, she understands the difference and gladly accepts it. His hands are everywhere—holding her waist, climbing under her skirt, running through her hair to pull her closer—but what somehow stays with her it’s the moment he closes the door and then they are alone and the darkness is their friend.

The darkness makes it easy, embarrassingly easy, for her to break the kiss enough to lift his shirt and for him to slide her dress down and for them to find their way to the bed. He holds her, his lips incessantly, and a part of Lily wonders if he doesn’t want to break apart for fear of what happened the last time he did it.

But the majority of her is too wrapped in the feelings he is bringing to worry about anything. She accepts him, accepts every caress he distributes openly, and returns it eagerly. She tastes the saltiness of his skin, feels every muscle of his chest—the ones she has memorized after so many days at the beach though she had only imagined how they would feel under her fingers—, presses herself closer to him. His hands are exploring her—he saw her at the beach too—and then his mouth replaces his hands and the moan that escapes her lips is true.

She pulls him up, tasting her own sweat on his lips—it was a warm day and it’s a warmer night—and her hands work on the button of his jeans. There is a moment of hesitation—he breaks away, his eyes boring into hers even as the darkness barely allows them to see each other—and then it’s gone. He pulls her last piece of cloth then stands up long enough to take out his last one and then there is only them.

Only Lily and James, except they don’t feel like two anymore. They are one and in the darkness, Lily sees those colours that are so James once more, fireworks whose sounds are moans and short breaths and names whispered so low that the other could pretend they didn’t hear.

But Lily hears it and it’s hers. He is hers for that moment and she is his.

She lied before (and now she knows it). She can’t forget him. She can’t be just friends. James is bright sunny days, cosy cold nights and she longs to share it all with him (she couldn’t, but her mind can’t recall why right now). She locks her hand with his, her nails burying into his skin, and Lily doesn’t want to let go.

He holds her hand, pressing it so hard that she can’t feel circulation there anymore, and then he cries her name, this time impossible to deny it. He called her.

It’s not the last time he will do it tonight. He presses another kiss to her lips—it’s feverish and urgent and somehow even more desperate than the first one—, rests his forehead against her catching his breath and Lily enjoys the moment, enjoys that pleasure and soreness that runs through her body, enjoys how her chest brushes against his as she breathes, slower each time, recovering.

Recover. As if she could.

James breaks apart, rolling to the side and for a moment there is silence, the music distant, the world distant until it’s not anymore, until the world seems too close and the air too heavy, not one breeze to refresh it. Lily thinks of opening the window—it’s already opened, the wind bringing the smell of the sea to the room—when she realizes it’s not the air that feels wrong.

It’s them. No, it’s him.

‘James,’ she calls, panic and fear trembling her voice, coldness spreading through her skin in a way that it should not be possible, not on this summer day.

She can hear him rising from the bed, grabbing his clothes.

‘Lily,’ he answers shortly, opening briefly the door and she can’t see his face. ‘I know, it doesn’t mean anything.’

And that’s James Potter's first lie.

[ryosmne]

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x reader part 4

Hello, it's me your friendly neighborhood Sukuna simp, I don't have much to ramble about today, I hope you have fun reading this part :)

Series masterlist here

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, implied smut that I'm too shy to write.

The café was unusually quiet today, maybe it's because the other days y/n found herself sitting at that exact spot by the window, Mai was the one sitting across from her. Today was different, Nobara took Mai's place for brunch after class, to be fair she hadn't showed up in some time so both Nobara and y/n jumped at the opportunity to spend some time together.

"So, does it feel lonely now that Yuuji and Mai spend so much time together?" Nobara asked, evidently trying to make y/n admit to some form of jealousy she was sure she had. "Not really, I'm happy she's finally with someone so good for her and she's finally off my back about hooking me up with random dudes" y/n said and she was honestly happy for her best friend, Yuuji was a very nice guy and in the past few weeks he's been seeing Mai, he's nothing less of a sweetheart and y/n saw him a as a little sibling even though they were roughly the same age.

"Of course, why would you be lonely, Sukuna's been keeping you company too." Nobara's eyes had a glimmer in them, not because she wanted to tease y/n, but she was very invested in the girls business with the oh so attractive tattoo artist.

Nobara did her homework on the guy, he certainly wasn't as polite or well mannered as he came across the night they met. He did seem like trouble at first glance, but the way he looked at y/n that night, or the times he waited for her to get off class to have some time together, Nobara would say that even a blind man could see that y/n had been tugging on Sukuna's heartstrings.

"It's not like that" y/n was once again flustered. What was she to the pink haired man, who missed no chance to be around her? "You're making out in his car in broad daylight, what is it like?" the brown haired girl chuckled, her friend was an idiot if she worried for a second about the man who looked at her like she would disappear at any second. "I don't know, but we aren't together like that, he's an interesting guy" y/n longed to be with him, she had a faint memory about him talking about something like that the time he spend the night with her, but then again, she was drunk and that could be her mind playing cruel tricks on her.

"Ok then whatever you say, I really hope you're not doubting the dude that cooked you ten different options for breakfast, after he took your drunk ass home."

"Wait how do you know about that- did Mai? Oh I'm gonna kill her."

Despite the tiny voice asking 'what are we?' in y/n's head, her days with Sukuna have been some of the best she's had. Granted they couldn't see each other that often, whenever they did, it was always better than the time before.

Sukuna had taken her to all the restaurants he knew were good, cafes with the best tiramisu she had ever tasted, taking an hour and a half to get to the next place he'd see her smile listening to her excitement filled voice as she told him how delicious the food was, then giving him some attitude mumbling about how she didn't expect him to have such nice taste, was the easiest victory to him, the highlight of his day.

He hadn't managed to get her back to his chair like he needed to yet, he had been so busy finding the best places to take her to that it seemed like it completely slipped his mind. It hasn't slipped Sukuna's mind though, he's just been nervous to bring it up again, what if she doesn't want to do that anymore? What if she changed her mind? What if she just agreed because she felt compelled to do so? Sukuna didn't know which one was worse.

Even on the days they couldn't see each other they were in touch, texting silly things or messing with each other. If a day was anything other good Sukuna could vent and let out his frustrations talking to y/n and she often did the same. Sukuna preferred calling her for that, not only to get things off his chest but because her voice was so calming to him, the need to hear it grew stronger each day he wasn't able to see her.

Afternoon classes were always adding to her demise, y/n even accepted Mai's gossiping over paying attention. Yuuji as she expected was as sweet as he looked, Mai was once again gushing over him and his adorable nature. Y/n just smiled at her friend who rumbled about the boy who, by now had a very firm hold of her heart. "You and Sukuna?" She asked, prying for any information she didn't already know from Yuuji. "Me and Sukuna" y/n stated back, shit eating grin on her face, knowing how not entertaining Mai and not feeding her what she wanted completely pissed her off. Y/n's phone buzzed from her pocket, giving her a little break from her friends curiosity.

Can I take you out after class?

Y/n's lips tagged into a small smile. "Speak of the devil" Mai teased looking over y/n's phone.

Hmm depends. Where to?

Its a surprise, doll

You know I hate surprises, but I can make an exception for you.

Mai pretend to gag next to her, but y/n payed her no mind. She had already seen enough from her and Yuuji to do the same.

You won't regret it, I'll be outside when you're done.

"Just don't make out in the parking lot again, being in his car doesn't mean that we don't see you." Mai was being Mai again. Y/n shoved her arm lightly and told her that they all knew how her and Yuuji sneaked around the bathrooms, laughing as her face flushed red.

Sukuna entered her field of view leaning against his car, finishing up a cigarette, looking too good for anyone not to stare at him. The total black outfit he had on did wonders for him, even if it was the simplest of crew cut shirts and sweatpants, every piece of clothing complimented him. Waving at Mai, y/n walked towards him noticing he's cocky expression. "Feels like you're eating me up with those eyes" he laughed, why must the sound of his voice be this melodic at all times. "Don't worry I missed you too" Sukuna said laying a soft kiss on y/n's lips as a greeting. If her fellow students weren't staring already, now they surely were .

" Where are we headed tonight?" Y/n asked fastening her seatbelt, she still kind of thought of Sukuna as clumsy, even though he's driven her many places, it's not that she didn't trust him, he was a very good driver. Hey safety comes first.

"You'll find out" he spoke with a little grin, before starting his engine and driving off.

Unlocking his door, he let y/n step inside first. Sukuna's house was surprisingly neat, everything looked to be in place, the décor was minimalistic. It felt like Sukuna very home-y, but then it didn't. It was too tidy, y/n didn't really think of him as a tidy person. The place also had his scent of sandalwood so y/n easily relaxed into the new space taking some more steps forward to look around.

"Bringing me to your house like this without taking me to dinner first, tsk should've known you were that type 'kuna." Y/n said in a mockingly disapproving tone "Who said that, I'm cooking dinner for you." Sukuna said draping his arm around her shoulders guiding her to his kitchen.

Whatever Sukuna had on his stove smelled scrumptious, making y/n's mouth water, maybe how pretty Sukuna looked with an apron on and a little sweat forming on his forehead from the heat of the stove helped too.

"You know, I would have never guessed you knew how to cook." Y/n let some of her assumptions fly in the room, she was the only one with a pass to talk about whatever she wanted with him. Sukuna wasn't going to shut her down. Y/n had leaned back on his table, her eyes roamed his figure freely. Sukuna would look over his shoulder smiling to himself every time he caught her in the act.

"I had to learn, Yuuji and I lived with our Grandpa, when he passed, it was just me and him." Y/n's heart clenched in her chest, Sukuna sounded different saying that. The truth is, Sukuna had never talked about that with anyone, he never made word of his grandfather's passing or the hardships him and his brother went through when they were left alone. He had mentioned to y/n that his and Yuuji's grandfather raised them, but from the way he spoke about him y/n was sure his Grandfather was doing well. "I'm sorry for your loss" was all she could muster at that moment, the pain in his voice was much too real for her. "Thank you, at least my brother turned out pretty good" he quickly changed the subject to something ligter, surprised at his self for opening up to her so easily. "You didn't turn out that bad either" y/n let the words spill, she had spent the past half hour blatantly checking out his back, she had nothing to get shy about. Sukuna let out a laugh, gripping his wooden spoon a little tighter throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Is that what you think?" Y/n shifted in her seat, how could this guy go from sentimental to laughing about his brother and to whatever this dark seductive tone was, she had no idea.

"Come on don't get shy on me, you were having fun checking me out just a minute ago, see anything you like" in the blink of an eye, Sukuna was slightly bent down facing her. Even after all the makeout sessions they've had that usually ended with y/n slapping his arm worrying that someone saw them and Sukuna looking at her with a cocky grin reassuring her that they gave a good show to whoever was watching, he could still make her all flustered, and she looked adorable like this, a deer caught in headlights. Sukuna kissed the tip of her nose, telling her she looked cute before turning his attention back on the food.

"Did you find that movie?" Sukuna's voice came from the kitchen, y/n was fumbling with the remote on his couch. Sukuna insisted on eating in his living room, he didn't want this to feel too formal, he still had whine out with fancy plates and everything, but he only wanted to cook for his girl and see her eyes light up eating his food, like they always did when she tried the food on the restaurants he took her.

"Yeah, here let me help with that." She said getting of the couch to help him set everything. "No no no, you go sit down, I'll do the work." Sukuna insisted, y/n only raised a brow at him and complied.

"Okay, you have to teach me, this tastes so good 'kuna" that nickname stuck, not that Sukuna complained, his stomach still did flips every time y/n called him that. She was looking at him just the way he hoped she would. The dish was quite simple, chicken with some red salsa and vegetables, but it was better than anything she'd ever tasted.

"I can give you a little cooking class, as long as you go grocery shopping" He offered her a little smile and y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

Y/n was leaning on Sukuna's chest with her arm hooked around his waist, he had a firm hold of her too, mindlessly looking at the screen but not paying enough attention to it. The movie y/n chose turned out to be a barely watchable C grade thriller and the two glasses of wine they had didn't make it tolerable either. Bad movie or not, having her under his arm like this was all he needed to feel calmer. Sukuna was so calm that he forgot why he brought y/n over.

"Can I show you something?" Sukuna spoke softly, looking down at her, y/n nodded in reply and groaned loudly at the loss of his warmth when he got up from the couch, Sukuna could only chuckle at her .

"Just two drinks and you're already a brat."

"Shut up."

Sukuna came back holding a big folder and some sketch books, y/n's curiosity picked and she found herself straightening up a bit.

"I've been dying to show you these." Sukuna stated as he flipped through the pages. Y/n's eyes danced all over the various shapes and designs he had came up with. Her eyes traced a particular three headed fox, she had never seen anything like that before, she reached out her hand to feel his drawing on her fingertips.

Sukuna's heart picked up its pace, she was currently in aww at his favourite piece for her. "Are those what you told me you came up with form me?" She was amused, she stared at him wide eyed not believing that anyone would ever do something like that for her, "Yeah, every design here is meant for you, you can pick whichever you like, but if you don't want me to tattoo you, I'll understand, you don't have to let me if you don't want to." Y/n couldn't believe it, there were enough drawings in here to fill her entire body in ink. She had hardly believed him when he said he had a vision for her sleeve, but this, this was out of this world.

"I don't even know what to say, these are so beautiful, but why did you go through all this trouble?" She still couldn't see a reason for it. "You've given me so much inspiration from the first time you visited, I can't get your skin out of my head, seeing you in my work is just surreal. I would do anything to do it again" Sukuna's words had not yet sunken in properly, y/n was still in disbelief.

Sukuna placed his sketchbooks on the coffee table, his hand prompting y/n's chin up so he can look at her face in the dim lights of his living room. "I will decorate any part of your skin you're willing to give to me, I'll give you the best work I can, please let me do this much." Sukuna almost sounded desperate, his face was once more too close and his wine scented breath tickled her lips, he had almost gone mad drawing in most his free time, and every time he saw her, a new idea of what would fit her popped into his head.

"You can do that" the moment these words rolled out of y/n's tongue, Sukuna had heard all he needed, and latched his mouth on hers, allowing his hands to explore more of her body. Between heavy breaths, Sukuna whispered about the softness of her skin, how he couldn't wait to mark her again, how he wanted her to be his canvas, his and only his. Diving in her neck once more, littering her sensitive skin with bruises she'd have to cover up tomorrow and her hands tangled up in his hair. "Just be good for me and I'll be gentle" His words only made her anticipate more.

The next day Sukuna was walking like the happiest man on earth, he woke up and had breakfast with his beloved doll, he had a smile on his face you couldn't miss. His co-workers didn't miss it either nor did they miss the huge forder he had under his arm when he came in, but they didn't question it.

Gojo spent his time teasing him about his unusual demeanor while Geto laughed to himself assuming what everyone else did.

Teasing him and prying about Sukuna's previous day didn't really work in Gojo's favour, Sukuna would simply ignore him and his smile still hadn't fadded. Gojo took it as his personal mission to piss him off when he had a lightbulb moment.

"Come on man, you talk about her all the time and when she comes over we're all working, when are we gonna get to meet her?" Gojo pushed, for the third time today, he finally found a weak spot.

The entire crew was curious meet y/n, properly this time at least, but Gojo was the only one who could confidently voice that. "Tell you what, go one month without fucking someone in here, and we can all go for some drinks tonight." Sukuna said in a joking manner, there was no way Gojo Satoru would agree to something like that, the man couldn't last two days on that deal, he was not about to give his word to Sukuna and take one for the team.

Gojo stood before the pink haired man, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose "Then, it's a deal" he said, obnoxious as ever with his hand extended for Sukuna to take. Sukuna knew Gojo was a man of his word, and if he shook on something, he would no doubt keep his end. Now Sukuna had to keep his as well.

Hey doll, I was wondering if you'd like to go grab a few drinks with me and the rest of the guys after closing?

Sure, I'll be there before nine, what's the occasion?

No need, I'll pick you up, they just really want to meet you, you don't have to come if you don't want to though.

Don't be stupid, I won't pass the opportunity of collecting blackmail on you.

Sukuna was smiling at his phone, that was so typical of y/n, his grin quickly faded once his eyes met the idiots standing before him with hopeful eyes. "Just don't do anything stupid" he sighed defeated before getting back to work, this was going to be a long night.

Y/n easily spotted Sukuna's car, he was parked just further down her street. Carefully swinging the passenger door open, she expected at least extra someone inside, but it was just Sukuna.

"Hey 'kuna." y/n greeted stepping inside, Sukuna faced her with a half smile, lazily bringing his hand on her jawline, pulling her in for a short kiss. "You're looking very pretty today, dollface." he spoke, still inches from her face, as his eyes traced her figure. Every inch of exposed skin begging him to mark it. Sukuna halted his wandering thoughts when y/n spoke again. "Everyone ended up ditching you in the end? cause you could've taken me out without an excuse like that."

"I wish they did, but unfortunately for both of us we'll have to suffer through it, I know you'd rather have me all to yourself." The mare glance he gave her from the corner of his eye as he put the car on speed was enough to have y/n's hear thumping in her chest. "Speak for yourself, airhead." Y/n's tone didn't lack at all in sarcasm. She did want him all to herself but she also was very intrigued by the rest of his crew, Sukuna always spoke about them. Whether it was stories from his childhood, college or everyday work things, y/n kept hearing about Nanami, Geto, Gojo and Megumi so she looked forward to getting to know them for herself. She had only seen Gojo and Nanami. Megumi and Geto had always been occupied when she dropped by the shop she would catch a glimpse of them tonight.

Sukuna's hand had taken a grip of her thigh, making y/n not so focused in their conversation. Sukuna was mindlessly squeezing while warning y/n about his friends.

The bar looked more like a museum in her opinion, still a very beautiful, elegant place. Y/n expected no less from Sukuna, he's already accompanied her to the best small restaurants and patisseries, sometimes she wondered how he came to know this many perfect date spots.

Sukuna had managed to slip his hand in her's the moment he noticed eyes on his precious doll and guided her to the table his co-workers were sat.

"You owe me 50 Nanami, they did show up."

"You're making me regret this already." Sukuna said, his head dipping slightly

"Come on 'kuna don't be such a grump" had that been y/n's voice Sukuna would've smiled down at her and his demeanor would instantly change, Gojo's voice only offered him annoyance.

Y/n took notice and softly brushed his hand with her thumb, Sukuna let a little laugh and proceeded to introduce the girl under his arm to everyone. "Y/n this is Geto, Megumi and you already know Nanami and Gojo here" Sukuna spoke pulling out y/n's seat as she shook hands with everyone. Gojo took the chance to piss his friend off, after all he would have to strictly work for the next month, he brought y/n's hand to his lips, giving her a compliment on her dress, making Sukuna red in the face.

Everyone took a liking to her very quickly, seeing exactly why Sukuna was so taken by her, she was witty and smart with a silver tongue that was also very sharp. Geto begun telling her about Sukuna's embarrassing drunk nights in college while Gojo laughed and even Nanami snickered. Megumi made Sukuna regret the day he considered taking him in his shop when he told y/n how he always cried as a kid if he didn't have a cookie after his meal. "That's why you always grumble about dessert?" Y/n asked him choking in laughter, Sukuna mumbled a reply and went back to looking annoyed, he was really happy to see y/n interact with his friends so effortlessly. This girl was constantly giving him more reasons to be around her.

Y/n was in the middle of a deep conversation with Nanami about philosophy, her eyes gleaming when he mentioned Plato's allegory of the cave. Geto subtly tapped Megumi's leg to get him to notice how Sukuna was resting his chin on his hand staring at y/n, who was blabbering about Greek philosophers, with the most sweet expression on his face any of them had seen. Gojo also took notice of that and an unspoken pact of 'annoy the fuck out of Sukuna' was made then and there.

"Have you thought about the next thing you want done or did you just want one tattoo?" Gojo asked the girl, breaking her conversation with Nanami a little too early for her liking.

"Yeah, I'll be getting some more work from Sukuna pretty soon" y/n replied proudly, her mind wandering to the night before to Sukuna and the beautiful pieces he came up with just for her. Sukuna perked up, his heart thumping by how happy y/n sounded with these words rolling out her lips.

"You sure you want him to do it though? You know I'm free if you need." Gojo's voice was condescending like always. Sukuna tensed up, jaw clenching at the thought of anyone laying a finger on y/n's skin. "Are you crazy? with work like this, I wouldn't let anyone else do it." Y/n laughed, Gojo must've been joking anyway.

Sukuna found so much comfort in her reply, she loved his artistry and never hesitated to show it, no matter how much of a brat she could be with him. Geto butted in the conversation too "y/n is right, look at how beautiful Sukuna's work looks on her, there's no way she'd change him." Y/n nodded at his words. "But I also do black and gray, I'm sure I could come up with something for you" Sukuna's eyes were glaring daggers at the raven haired man next to him, he remained oblivious to it laughing on the inside, Sukuna was so predictable.

"Thanks, but you said it yourself, there's no way I'd change him." Y/n spoke confidently, taking a sip of her vodka, knowing that at this point she was stroking Sukuna's ego and it would only grow bigger. Sukuna had no idea what everyone was onto trying to tattoo y/n, probably piss him off. From the looks of it, y/n wasn't going to let that happen. Nanami was observing quietly exchanging a few more words with y/n, he was right about her not taking other people's bullshit, Gojo couldn't pull anything with her, Nanami could see what Sukuna saw in her.

"Y/n, when you first came you were going to get tattooed by Megumi right?" Nanami spoke, Sukuna never expected him to join the others in their stupidity. "Yeah, he takes the walk ins right?" Y/n said casually, paying no mind to what Nanami was trying to do, the rest of them were also shocked that he decided to join in on making Sukuna's night a little hellish. Oh the betrayal.

"Did you want to get tattooed by Megumi?" Such a simple question, but Sukuna was at the edge of his seat "Yeah, I did, he was the reason I chose Domain in the first place, everyone loves this guy's work, I was pretty excited." Sukuna's face dropped, it's not like he didn't expect that, of course y/n came based on the reviews, he couldn't be mad at her for not booking him, she didn't even know him. He was pretty happy that he ended up taking her in that day, even if his insides boiled with jealousy at this very moment "Sorry for ruining your plans doll" the same smugness echoed in his voice "I can only stay mad at you for so long." Meeting his enlarged pupils and darker eyes, she could tell Sukuna was indeed, jealous. He had nothing to be jealous of, she didn't plan on leaving his side anytime soon, but when Megumi took his turn in the game everyone seemed to play, y/n found it hard not to join them. "If you still want to I can tattoo you since I never got to" Megumi knew he was walking on thin ice when Sukuna gave him a look that made him wish he was dead, these two got in fights all the time as kids and ended up with bruises all over them, if Megumi didn't ease up Sukuna would gladly remind him of the past.

"Uh, yeah, if you've got a design" y/n said with a bit of hesitation, Sukuna was seathin next to her, his hand aggressively palming her leg just above the knee. The rest of the night Sukuna didn't really speak, only leaned in y/n's ear to tell her to slow down on the vodka, the rest of the guys continued to talk amongst themselves as if nothing had happened.

Exiting the bar, y/n was walking- trying to keep up with Sukuna who walked fast to his car after mumbling a goodnight to everyone. Y/n regretted playing along, she'd never seen Sukuna this quiet. " 'kuna, I'm sorry I really didn't want to upset you" she said her eyes on the ground, gently tagging at his jacket, how could he ever get annoyed with her when she looked like that. Sukuna wasted no time swiftly taking a hold of her, his lips ghosting her's "I'm not that upset, only a little" his voice barely above a whisper, lips grazed over hers briefly. Sukuna didn't know if that was his heart or hers thumping so hard "I'm tired of dancing around it" his breath was hot, warming up her face making y/n's face impossibly hotter. "Dancing around what?" She asked with visible hesitation. Sukuna dipped down once more, not so softly this take taking her soft lips into his own, gently tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, letting one of his palms to rest on her cheek and the other taking a loose hold of the back of her neck. Her arms naturally found their way around his neck. "I told you I want you all to myself" . Did he mean what y/n was thinking? Did y/n want him to call her his? Sukuna almost crackled at her puzzled expression. Sukuna wasn't one to express things this openly, y/n was a bit dense in that department so he had to, at least he told himself that.

"I'm starting to get a bit disappointed, I clearly remember you saying 'i would say yes' with some romantic mumbling" Sukuna said, stroking her cheek ever so slightly.

Her breath was striped from her lungs, it wasn't from the kiss this time. So that did happen, y/n's mind was not playing tricks on her, Sukuna had in fact asked. Her eyes once again gleamed looking straight to his crimson irises. "So will you be mine?" He was more confident this time, they had grown closer, laughed more, shared more, Sukuna wanted this from the very first session they had together and the more time he spend around her, the more he couldn't bare the thought of anyone laying their fingers on her. Perhaps Nanami's little show got under his skin way more than he could ever admit, but there was no way he's letting anyone mark her. Y/n was his personal artwork, only the finest of pieces shall taint her skin. "Yes, airhead" y/n said, finally having enough air to form words, still in his arm with a smile on her face, indulging him on another deep kiss. "Let's seal the deal then."

Sukuna finally got to fulfill his need, y/n was back on his chair late in the afterhours of the night. He finished free handing another of his designs he showed her the night before, the outline of her sleeve, with the Cerberus foxes he created just for her.

Y/n was standing in front of his full body mirror, examining the very delicate lines of his marker. His arms snaked around her waist, Sukuna could watch her admire his art for eternity.

"You look so beautiful in it" he simply stated, looking at their reflection he could only note her beauty. Y/n looked beautiful, beautiful on her own, beautiful in his tattoos, beautiful in his arms.

"Your art is probably the most beautiful thing I've seen, but you too are a close competitor" her voice crystal clear, she managed to make a faint pink dust his cheeks. Sukuna wasn't one to take compliments, but from her? He could listen to her little praises all day. "Now, now get your ass back on this chair, you're not getting out of this"

"I didn't plan to anyway."

Bonus Domain shenanigans: Megumi had the pleasure of opening up the very next morning, what the hell happened here, he was about to call the cops when he saw Sukuna looking scruffy and sleep deprived, emerge from the back room, same pants and undone dress shirt as the night before. "What the hell" was all that he could say. Sukuna was thankful he let y/n out the back just so they could both avoid the embarrassment that was to come.

"What happened here?" Geto asked the moment he came through the door, although he already knew, Sukuna was predictable. "Nothing happened" Sukuna groaned trying to get them to shut up, he just needed some coffee. He disappeared in the back again.

"yeah sure, 'nothing happened' does he think we're stupid or something" Gojo said to Nanami, who already had a headache and he hasn't been in for 15 minutes yet. "Stop it already nothing happened" Sukuna said, coming out in the front to order a coffee. Gojo stared at him, walked closer to him and began laughing straight to his face, "fuck you're laughing at?" Sukuna was confused

"Next time, clean the lipstick off your face and neck." Nanami chuckled while Gojo continued to laugh at Sukuna's frustration.

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[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."