#because it just serves as a reminder to what she lost

[shevathegun]

I just read a post about how Palamedes began to understand that cavs mix with and imprint on the souls of their necros because of what Alecto got from John, and I like that post, but I don't agree with it's conclusions.

I don't agree that what John got from Alecto was rage. John had rage. He had it in abundance. Anyone who's ever cared about anything the way he and his acolytes cared understands that rage. One does not secure for themselves a suitcase nuke without a bit of wrathfulness in their heart, you see. Everything we hear from John paints him as deeply self righteous, and deeply angry.

And I don't agree that what Alecto got from John is love. Alecto had love. Alecto had great love and fascination for the Earth and its creatures, retains great love for those which living people no longer remember, regards human beings as one creature amongst many, but always with fascination and curiosity. In Nona we see that to love is not simply human – to love is the will of the Earth, and to love almost indiscriminately, to give even the devouring wrath of another planet that same deep love and sympathy.

No, what John and Alecto gave one another was much simpler than that. John gave Alecto humanity. Deeply unwanted, singularizing humanity – he trapped that nigh infinite power and wisdom and emotion, that deeply inhuman complex state of being, in a human body inspired not even by humanity itself but by a non-living effigy of idealized womanhood, and gave her the name of an avenging goddess. That was what he wanted her to be.

And by the same token, Alecto gave John her inhumanity. Earth is not a person, it is not singular – she is more vast and complex than any living being could ever be. The nearly inarticulatable way Nona experiences life as a corporeal being, nearly folds in on herself from trying to remain so small, is indicative of the life Alecto has been forced to live ever since John trapped her like this, devoured her whole with the gift she gave him.

There's something very fitting about the cannibalism metaphors that spring up in The Locked Tomb – namely that one of the reasons why cannibalism is viewed as a taboo act is because it involves reducing someone with the same ability as yours to think and feel complexly to the role of animal, and consuming them. We ascribe the act of consumption to what we view as lesser beings. In devouring the souls of their cavaliers, necromancers become something more than human, something immortal, something Worse.

When John ate Alecto, he was not devouring a lesser being. He wasn't even devouring something like himself in its ability to think and feel. He was devouring something with a greater ability to feel than he had the capacity to fathom by such orders of magnitude that the act itself is perverse.

He was a man devouring the earth.

John became a god because in coming into contact with Alecto's soul, he lost the part of him that showed him his place in the universe as a singular piece of a whole species. In attitude, he remains a self righteous, wrathful man completely immune to all attempts to dissuade him from what is now a centuries long lost cause. But in affect, he is a god. The power and disaffection of a planet contained within one man.

Alecto was born angry, but not because that's how she's meant to be. John perverted the natural order, made the Earth his literal toy, to serve only how he, in his hubris, thought she ought to be, to feel only how he thought she ought to feel. That's how humans tend to think of the Earth, right? As something fundamentally unliving. An object, maybe a force. Not a soul.

But in Nona, even she came to understand that she was so much more complicated than a sword, or a doll. Alecto has now lived within two human beings – and you're right that in one of them, through contact with their soul, she remembered how deeply and profoundly she loved living things.

The soul that reminded Alecto how she, as a planet, loved (loves, still loves) was not John.

It was Harrow.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like��being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[apollos-boyfriend]

jordan will never be her spark and ianite will never be his ianite, but he is still her captain and she is still his lady. do you understand. they mean the world to each other but they are not each other’s world. there will never be a time where they can look at the other and not think about what they lost, but yet they cannot be separated because they’re all the other has left

[withahappyrefrain]

Somebody to Love

Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.

Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader

For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!

The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.  

He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit. 

In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played. 

You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.

You were mistaken. 

The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention? 

The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket. 

"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"

The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face. 

Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read. 

So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own. 

It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book. 

"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying. 

But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar. 

And simply shook your head. 

"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots. 

Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.

"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there." 

You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?" 

A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink. 

Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night. 

—------------------------

Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up. 

The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory. 

He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious. 

Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost. 

He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags. 

Why put someone through that? 

“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her. 

But he couldn't see them being true for himself. 

So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone. 

It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers. 

And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it. 

Consistent. 

Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat. 

Consistent. 

Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him. 

“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.” 

—-------------------------------

Bob saw her first. 

It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru. 

The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing. 

Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light. 

She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience. 

Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself. 

Reuben was the first one to speak to her. 

Or rather, his daughter was. 

Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground. 

It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her. 

Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies. 

He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before. 

“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand. 

“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.” 

You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.” 

Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities. 

“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked. 

“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink. 

It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push. 

Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her. 

In a sea full of testosterone, it was  hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age. 

“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.

“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained. 

Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name. 

“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease. 

“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter. 

“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked. 

You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.” 

Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation. 

But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection. 

“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong. 

“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”

Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had  been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged. 

Your nickname. 

It hits Jake like a fucking freight train. 

“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen. 

Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting. 

“What is-” 

“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.” 

Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look. 

“Where is she?” 

Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house. 

After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married. 

So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love. 

“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-” 

“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.

“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!” 

Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game. 

Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her. 

“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”

A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him. 

Strange. 

Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more. 

“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”

Oh. 

So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife. 

It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids. 

“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts. 

“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable. 

“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him. 

You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen. 

Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled. 

“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler. 

“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava. 

“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.” 

“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes. 

“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you. 

You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face. 

“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself. 

“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural. 

“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still. 

“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence. 

“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast. 

“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-” 

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door. 

“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley. 

“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man. 

“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes. 

“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.

“Did he just… “

Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.” 

“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked. 

Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?” 

He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes. 

And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake. 

You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave. 

It was a nice change. 

“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?” 

You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.” 

“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise. 

“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,”  you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts. 

“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done. 

You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips. 

“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained. 

You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils. 

“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.” 

Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls. 

“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” 

“You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

Oh. Okay. 

That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all. 

“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-” 

“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.” 

Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden. 

“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father. 

“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place. 

You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.” 

“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive. 

“Something helped you have that revelation?” 

“Moreso someone.” 

It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before. 

Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze. 

“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up. 

“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone. 

Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you. 

His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you. 

It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin. 

Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine. 

Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you. 

“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this  contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning. 

“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins. 

The only sound you can let out is a confused huh. 

“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face. 

“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded. 

Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.” 

Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek. 

His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours. 

You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body. 

“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks. 

What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you? 

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?” 

Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.” 

He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath? 

You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.

“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act. 

“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?” 

“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort. 

“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.” 

You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?” 

“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples. 

“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.” 

Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers? 

“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.” 

Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise. 

“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable. 

“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet. 

Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.” 

You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat. 

 “And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”

His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun. 

Almost. 

His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over. 

“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours. 

The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.

[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

[prettyngeto]

your lips, my lips (apocalypse) - 18+

satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: if someone told you you'd be screaming out the name of notorious fratboy satoru gojo for a reason other than to berate him, you never would've agreed to come to this party.

content (mdni): nsfw, college au (reader and gojo are both twenty), fratboy!gojo, gojo is an annoying little shit but he's hot so it's okay, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, dom!gojo, sub fem!reader, praising, dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!) inspired by this fanart by yunonoai

word count: 6.7k

playlist: fluent in bullshit

main masterlist || gojo masterlist || ao3

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, bodies moving drunkenly against each other to the sound of the music blasting from the multiple speakers around the house. Multicoloured lights were dancing around every surface visible, your face scrunching in disgust as you caught sight of a half naked couple practically eating each others' faces off against a wall. All in all, it was a typical Saturday night for the infamous Jujutsu High frathouse. Red solo cups littered the floor as you manoeuvre your way through the crowd, eyes scanning around for your best friend. Your hand moved to fish your phone out of your pocket, immediately calling her for assistance, because if there was one thing you were good at - it was getting lost and right now you were most definitely lost. However, it seemed like luck was not on your side tonight because of course tonight is the one night she decides to not pick up. A small whine of frustration left you as you craned your head, going up on your tiptoes to continue your search in vain. 

“The hell ya cryin’ for?” The deep familiar voice of the living and breathing embodiment of irritation rang through your ears. 

Satoru Gojo.

Yeah, luck was most definitely not on your side tonight. 

Gojo had been a constant in your life since you were kids, and not in a good way, in fact he was like that pesky fly that kept buzzing around your room at night even though the window was wide open. On top of this he just happened to be the president of the Jujutsu High frat - something he never failed to remind others of, so although it came to no surprise to anyone that he was here, his presence always seemed to antagonise you. The vice president and one of your mutual friends, Suguru Geto on the other hand was much more tolerable compared to the devil's spawn that currently had his arm languidly thrown over your shoulder as he leaned down to talk into your ear. His smirk widens when you roughly shove his arm off your shoulder and he goes to hold his hands up in a show of faux surrender. "Woah easy there princess, what's got you all worked up huh?" You click your tongue in exasperation and turn away from him, "You ever learn to mind your own business Gojo or do you get off on annoying everyone around you?" 

The glare you send his way only serves to intensify the smirk on his face, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips before he answers. "Nah not everyone, I only get off on annoying you, get it right y/n." The cheeky tone in his voice makes you groan in annoyance before you spin on your heel and walk away from him, the sound of his grating laughter echoing behind you. 'Seriously what was his problem? Someone needs to teach him how to shut the fuck up.’ The dynamic between you and Gojo has always been an… interesting one. It mostly consisted of him doing everything humanly possible to get on your nerves, from pulling on your hair in kindergarten to throwing scrunched up paper to the back of your head in high school and in return, you used him to learn how to perfect your punches, (which admittedly always hurt him but he'd never let you know that). 

“Y/NNN THERE YOU AREEE!” The squeal of your name had you turning around only to become entangled in the long limbs of your best friend, Yuri, simultaneously catching the attention of several others in the room due to the volume of Yuri’s voice. Yuri was the other (more enjoyable) constant in your life, a ball of sunshine who always got a smile out of you since the both of you had met at the ripe age of five. But she could also be a bit… loud, ultimately making you two the centre of unwanted attention wherever you went. “Bitch I’ve been walking around trynna find you for so long. Ugh, I think this is the most exercise I’ve done this whole year.” Yuri pants out once you’ve finally managed to get out of her surprisingly strong hold. You huffed, a small pout forming on your lips. “Yu, don’t be dramatic, it’s your fault anyway. I called you but someone decided to not pick up and then I had to deal with that annoying piece of shit. By. My. Self.” 

“You talked to Gojo? Gojo Satoru? Alone? And the room is still intact? Who are you and what have you done to my violent best friend?” The glare you send her way has Yuri giggling, an arm hooking into yours as she drags you upstairs to the room in which the rest of your friend group were currently playing some stupid games. Excited smiles and waves greeted you as you walked through the door, Yuri pulling you down to sit in between her and Shoko. “You two are right on time, we were just about to start a riveting game of seven minutes in heaven.” The sarcasm in Shoko’s tone made you stifle your laughter, head falling onto Yuri’s shoulder, as she gave you a playful wink in response. “Seven minutes in heaven seriously? What, are we horny 13 year olds again or something?” Yuri groaned, her head tilting to rest on top of yours. You hummed in agreement, boredom already evident on your face, “Yeah who’s dumb idea was this anyway?”

Suguru has a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he answers you, "Google's. We didn't know what to do so we searched up 'fun games to play at a party.' " He was met with blank stares until Shoko nearly choked on the puff she was taking from her cigarette at his confession, the room now filled with the sound of laughter and Utahime frantically rubbing Shoko's back in an attempt to stop her from coughing up a lung. "Oh by the way did anyone see Satoru, we can't start without him or he'll start whining. Fucker said he went to the toilet, it's been like twenty minutes." Suguru's voice broke through the laughter as he leaned back onto his hands, head tilting in curiosity. Your mood immediately soured, letting an audible groan at the sound of his name and to make things worse, this was the moment Gojo decided to make an appearance. His presence was overwhelming to say the least, and the fact that he was aware of the effect he had when he walked into the room definitely did not help his exploding ego. Grey hoodie slung over his shoulder, and hands tucked in the pocket of his matching grey sweats, a lazy smirk made its way onto his face, "Hope you guys didn't miss me too much." His eyes caught yours as he sat down opposite you next to Suguru who smacked him up the head for taking his 'sweet fucking time,' resulting in Gojo readjusting the black baseball cap he was wearing backwards with a whine. 

His sky blue eyes were shining with mirth as he looked you up and down from across the circle you all had formed, arms crossing and an eyebrow raising up at you in challenge. Your eyes immediately narrowed into slits as you stared him down, unintentionally locking onto the way his biceps flexed across his chest in the black compression shirt he never seemed to take off. He followed your eyes down to his arms, smirk widening as he not so subtly flexed his arms even more, watching in amusement as you try to hide the flustered expression in your face by rolling your eyes and looking away with a scoff. 

Shoko cleared her throat impatiently, "Are you two done eye-fucking each other now or can we get this stupid game over and done with?" She asked with a bored expression, looking between you and Gojo with a raised brow. This only seemed to fuel Gojo's amusement, snickering as your jaw went slack at Shoko's words, face twisting in disgust.

"You two. Cut it out. Shoko - you're right and I love you but we don't need Satoru bleeding out on my carpet tonight okay?" Suguru Geto ladies and gentlemen, ever the peacemaker. 

Utahime shot up from her spot next to Shoko, hands clapping in excitement as she retrieved a small black bag. "Okay everyone put something in the bag so we can figure out pairings. And thennnn, all you gotta do is go to the storage room next door for seven minutes. Simpleee!" She announced this with way too much excitement for your liking. Once everyone had dropped one of their belongings into the bag, it was simultaneously decided that Utahime would choose her partner first. Eyes scrunched closed, she dipped her hand into the bag, pulling out what was unmistakably Shoko's lighter. Loud hollers and cheers filled the room all the while Utahime sat frozen, face painted a bright shade of red. Wordlessly, Shoko sat up walking towards the storage room next door. Upon noticing that Utahime still hadn't moved, she turned around, tilting her head, a small smirk appearing on her face, "Ya comin' or not?" Let's just say you had never seen Utahime move so quickly in your life.

Seven minutes later, the pair walked back in the room with flushed cheeks and equally red lips that were sporting matching smiles as they both sat back down. Unfortunately for you, it was your turn to pick from the bag. Your hand reached out tentatively, rummaging through the contents of the bag as your fingers latched onto something cold. Pulling your hand out and opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of Gojo’s infamous silver chain pooled into your palm. Silence. Complete and utter silence… that is until Suguru’s dumb ass started cackling like a possessed soul, slapping his knee with tears of laughter gathering at the corner of his crinkled eyes. “I fucking love this game,” His words came out as what could only be described as wheezes, one hand on his chest as he tried to calm his breathing down. Meanwhile, Gojo was still wearing that ridiculous smirk of his, once again eyeing you up and down as you stared daggers into his soul, cheeks puffed out in anger. 

“I refuse.” Your words were sharp and precise, arms crossing in defiance.

“That’s not how it works y/n…” Yuri’s defeated voice came out in a whisper next to you.

“Well too bad that’s how it’s gonna work now.”

“Says who.”

“Says ME.”

The sigh being let out next to you indicated Shoko’s clear irritation with your antics as she stands up, dragging you with her by the elbow as you splutter out excuse after excuse. Gojo on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Your weak protests were interrupted when you were shoved into the empty storage room, followed by Gojo falling unceremoniously onto you, both of you crashing onto the floor. Before either of you could register your situation, the doors slammed shut encasing both of you in darkness. Gojo was still pressed against you, arms caging your head as a result of him trying to break his fall - and as far as he was concerned, he had no intention of getting away from you anytime soon. 

"Satoru Gojo get the fuck off me right now" you seethed through your teeth, your palms weakly pushing at his chest in an attempt to shove him off of you. 

"No can do sweetheart, I kinda like being this close, don't you?" You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, feeling his hot breath fan across the side of your face as he leaned impossibly closer to you to whisper in your ear. "Oh for fuck's sake Satoru are you fluent in bullshit or something? Get off meeee…" Your words trailed off into a small whine, clearly irritated by his antics but the teasing smile on his face only widened at your words, "Ooo first name basis already huh? This day just keeps getting better. You got a crush on me or something y/n?"

"Shut up Gojo, I hate you and you know it." You hissed out through burning cheeks, and you were struggling to figure out whether it was out of embarrassment or from the newfound fluttering in your heart. "You hate me huh?" His voice lowered, sending a shiver down your spine and you found yourself wishing his lips were closer to yours. 

“Yeah, I do. I hate you and your dumb voice and the way you always wear that stupid compression shirt to show off your stupid muscles and I hate your dumb attractive face and the way you're so stupidly tall and-” Your words catch in your throat when Gojo leans down to be face to face with you, his sapphire eyes darkening as they pierced into yours. 

“Oh yeah?” The husk in his voice paired with his proximity had you subconsciously squeezing your thighs together, breaths coming out in short pants from your ranting as you stared up at him wide-eyed. "Looks like it's you who's fluent in bullshit sweetheart cos this sounds more like a love confession to me," One of his hands reached up to grab your chin and tilt your face up towards his, thumb brushing teasingly over your bottom lip, making its way into your mouth and pressing lightly onto your bottom teeth - giving you no choice but to open your mouth, embarrassment coursing through you at the gesture. His smirk only widened at the action, his thumb pressing lightly onto your tongue, mind already racing with different scenarios, ‘Hm, maybe another time…’ he thought as he took his thumb away to grab the back of your neck to lessen the gap between you two.

You subconsciously lean into him, your body betraying you in every way. Eyes fluttering shut, heart beating impossibly fast, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You feel the warmth of his palm as his hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling you close, - closer and closer until his lips meet yours in a tender kiss. Your hands travel up from his chest, knocking over his baseball cap in the process, nails grazing his undercut softly, drawing him impossibly closer to you. Fingers moving further into his hair, you pull the soft white strands in a show of desire, resulting in a deep groan being let out into your mouth by Gojo as he presses his hips into yours in retaliation. A soft whine leaves you and you swear you feel him smirk before gently prodding his tongue against your lips. You part them for him, his tongue intertwining with yours in a dance of passion, your own hips now greedily grinding up into him. The warmth from his mouth disappears, his hot breath hitting your neck bringing you back to reality as your eyes slowly open only to find him staring at you with that cheeky smile of his. “Someone was enjoying herself hm?” His voice was gravelly as he spoke, eyes flitting back to your lips every so often. “Shut up Gojo.” You whispered, still very obviously affected from what was possibly the best kiss of your life as you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh come onnn, I think we’re past this, say Satoru for me baby.” Twinkling cerulean eyes bored into yours, watching you become increasingly flustered at the pet name. You turned away from him defiantly, refusing to speak but that only urged him on further, voice like dripping honey as he leaned down to speak into your ear. “C’mon sweetheart, you can do it, I believe in you. Look at me and say my name with that sweet voice of yours for me hm?” Gulping, you look up at him with wide eyes and warm cheeks, mouth parting ready to speak, when there's a series of knocks against the closet door, Suguru's deep voice a mere echo in your ears. A loud groan was let out above you as Satoru threw his head back in annoyance, “Ugh, so close. It’s okay princess, I’ll make you scream it soon enough,” he said with a wink as he finally got off of you whilst picking up his forgotten cap from the floor and placing it backwards on his head. He looks down, a hand reaching out to help you up. You take his hand and he pulls you up, biting his lips when you look up at him with those pretty eyes and for some reason he can’t bring himself to look away, both of you forgetting the fact that you were supposed to be getting out of the room.

"Yo Satoru, time's up get outta there." Light floods in as Suguru flings the door open, and your throat gets dry once you notice the desperation darkening Satoru's eyes. With heavy breaths, heaving chests and faces flushed with passion, neither of you seem to be able to look away from the intensity emitting from each other. At this point, there isn't a single thought in your head other than the man standing in front of you, looking at you with so much passion that you fear you'd never be able to look at another man without being reminded of him. The sound of a throat clearing brings both of you back to reality, Surguru watching you with a knowing smirk and crossed arms. Satoru on the other hand, doesn’t even acknowledge his best friend, instead opting to reach for your wrist, practically dragging you away down the other end of the hallway to where his room is. “Fucking took them long enough my god…” Suguru mutters under his breath, making his way back to his room already excited to tell the others about your escapade. 

Meanwhile, Satoru has you pushed up against the door of his bedroom, lips impatiently clashing with yours, hands caressing each other frantically. His cold hands had slipped under your shirt making you hiss slightly. His hands continued to make their way up, his thumbs teasingly rubbing your nipples through your bra, your whimpers getting lost in his mouth. Your own hands were gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You feel one of his hands moving down to unbutton your jeans, his pinky finger swiping the skin just above the waistband of your underwear, making you buck your hips needily into him. “Fuck baby, I can feel how wet you are through your panties. Messy girl aren’t you?” He mumbles, nipping your ear softly as his fingers start to tease your slit through your underwear. Your whimpers only encourage him further, pushing your panties to the side, tips of his fingers rubbing your clit. Your body was growing responsive to his touch, leaning further and further into him, face buried in his chest as you feel yourself get impossibly wetter. Soft pants left your mouth, one of your hands shyly reaching down to grab his bulge through his sweatpants making him moan into your neck, your eyes widening when you feel just how big he is. You let out a particular loud squeal when two of his long fingers entered you without warning, body squirming as you tried to adjust to their size. Satoru had resorted to biting and sucking your neck in order to hold back his moans as you continued palming him, your cute little whimpers making him harder underneath your hand. His voice comes out in a growl, eyes now boring into yours, fingers relentlessly going in and out of you, painting stars in your vision. “T-toru…” The whimper escaping you had his gaze softening slightly, “I know baby, I know. Be a good girl for me and take it, yeah?” Your eyes screwed shut as you nodded weakly at his words, the praise making your pussy clench around his fingers.

"Shit baby you're so fucking tight around my fingers, you sure ya can take my cock? I don't think it'll fit in that tight little pussy of yours" He leans down to playfully nip on your ear and there's a taunting smile playing on his lips when he meets your eyes again. A defiant look crosses your face, the need to prove him wrong still as strong as ever, even if he is currently turning you into a brainless mess. "I can take it…" your retaliation would've been much more believable to him if your words weren't beginning to slur, coming out in soft pants. So Satoru did what he knew how to do best.

He teased. Mercilessly. 

"Aw my pretty little baby thinks she can take it? Yeah well, you're gonna have to cum around my fingers first if we wanna fit my dick in you sweetheart. But I don't know how much I'm willing to let you cum." His taunts are followed by a cruel curl of his fingers, his knuckles bullying your inner walls, your juices dripping down onto his wrist from how wet you were. You were so so close, fingers clenching around the front of Satoru's shirt, your head buried in his chest as your eyes were scrunched closed in pleasure, small tears threatening to fall from your lash line. 

“You fucking dickhead let me cum please,” you mumble out into his shirt, his fingers relentless in their teasing turning your desperation into frustration. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum baby? Beg for it.” The words coming out of his mouth were nothing short of torture for you as he stopped his movements, fingertips now rubbing your clit in gentle circles, all the while looking down at you with that infuriating smirk of his. See, usually it would take more than those three words for you to listen to Satoru Gojo of all people, but considering the fact that his fingers alone were making you see stars, it was clear to all what your choice was. 

“Please…” you breathe out, face finally coming up from your hiding place in his chest to look up at him with blown pupils, tears still pooled in your eyes and wobbly lips. Gojo’s breath hitched when you made eye contact with him, his throat going dry at the mere sight of your already dishevelled appearance. Fuck, it made him want to ruin you even more so who was he to deny your pretty plea. “Only cos you asked so nicely”, he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping against your lobe, his fingers going in and out in the most toe-curling ways. You felt your eyes roll back as one of your hands clutched the front of his shirt, the other palming him through his sweats, mouth open, letting out what Satoru believed was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard as you squeezed around his fingers, thighs shaking ever so slightly as he continued rubbing soothing circles on your clit.

Satoru’s half-lidded eyes were stuck to you, the image of you cumming on his fingers now permanently etched into his mind. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, a groan emitting from the back of his throat, but of course he couldn’t help himself from muttering yet another cheeky remark. 

“You know, for someone who claims to ‘hate’ me so much, you seemed to enjoy cumming on my fingers a bit too much.” The glare you throw up at him would usually have more venom but seeing as you just had what could only be described as the best orgasm of your life (although you would never admit this to his face), all your ‘glare’ did was make Satoru’s smirk widen. 

"F-fuck you Gojo,” 

"That's the plan sweetheart."  

In a matter of seconds, you felt arms snaking under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and dropping you onto the middle of his bed, navy blue silk sheets rippling underneath you. Of course he would have fucking silk bedsheets, rich prick. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when you see Satoru standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you with nothing but lust in his eyes, his tongue coming out to swipe across his lips hungrily as he slowly starts taking that damn black compression shirt off, making a show out of it as he does so. Trust him to be able to turn into a stripper at will. You gulp, scanning him down whilst he makes his way over to you, eyes locking onto the outline of his cock through his grey tracksuits. He’s now on top of you, forearms on either side of your head caging you in, soft strands of white hair falling over his eyes; eyes which he hadn’t taken off you since he locked the door. 

“You’re awfully close,” The words leaving your mouth are barely louder than a whisper and he could feel your breath hitting his lips as you spoke. 

“Problem, sweetheart?” He whispers back, leaning his face down impossibly closer to yours, his fingers gently snaking in between yours at the sides of your head. You bite your lip in anticipation, “No but it will be if you don’t fucking do something,” the retort leaves you before you could think, impatience radiating off you as you look at him through your lashes.

“Knew you secretly had a thing for me this whole time.” He lets out a low chuckle and before you could snap back at him, his lips come crashing down onto yours, hands squeezing yours essentially pressing you down further into his annoyingly comfortable mattress. He grabs both of your wrists into one of his hands, the other making its way down your hips and into your jeans, tracing the waistband of your panties. Meanwhile, your lips have resorted to leaving small kisses across his jawline, sucking little marks down the side of his neck making Satoru let out a soft whine into your ear. And you decide very quickly that you like the noise he just made so, of course, you bite down onto the junction between his neck and his shoulder, one of your hands leaving his grip and sneaking into the waistband of his tracksuits, straight into his boxers stroking his (very hard) length, causing him to let out a quiet growl, his face buried in your neck. 

Evidently, this was his last straw. 

Here you were getting up close and personal with his neck and the next thing you know he’s flipped you over onto your stomach, hands dragging your jeans and panties down your legs, throwing them onto the floor carelessly. “Fuckkk I can’t wait to ruin you,” he practically growls the words out as his palm lands a loud smack onto your ass, a squeal of surprise escaping you, your head turning back to look at him with narrowed eyes and you swear you nearly came on the spot from seeing him kneeling behind you, toned abs on full display, that stupid baseball cap still backwards on his head as he admired your half-naked body sprawled on his bed.

“What? I’m only saying the truth” he shrugs whilst ridding himself of his tracksuits, dragging his boxers along, his hard cock springing up hitting the base of his stomach. His hand comes up to stroke it lazily, and you keep looking back at him, your pupils blown wide, almost mesmerised by his actions as he lets out a soft moan when his thumb swipes across his tip. Your body squirms at his actions, the need to feel him inside you growing by the second and he notices, of course he notices his gaze hasn’t been anywhere else but you this whole time. You feel his cold hands grip your hips, a shiver running down your spine as he manoeuvers your hips upwards, “Ass up for me sweetheart,” he mumbles, his knees pushing yours outwards and spreading your legs open in the process. 

“There we go, good girl. So wet for me hm?” His sweet mumbles went straight to your core, your pussy getting embarrassingly wetter with every word coming out of his mouth. You let out a staggered breath, feeling him get closer to where you needed him most, the tip of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down your slit, eyes fixated on how your pussy seemed to clench around nothing. “Satoru I swear to god if you don’t- ” your grumble was interrupted by a loud squeal as he finally inserted himself into you with one swift movement. 

“Fucckkk you’re so tight, this what you wanted princess?” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, his hat falling off his head in the process. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hips reached back to retrieve his hat, placing it haphazardly on your head, a wide smirk gracing his lips as he admired you, your ass still squirming against him as you tried to adjust to his length with soft whimpers leaving your lips. He pulls out, leaving only his tip inside you before slamming himself back in as you whine out a loud “Toruuuu” into the pillow that was currently clutched to your chest, forearms pressed into the mattress to hold yourself up. He starts moving in and out, irritatingly slowly at first, just to antagonise you that little bit more, make you that little bit more needy for him. Because, fuck he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing the mouthy brat that always had a snipy remark for everything he did be at a loss for words, going dumb on his cock when he hadn’t even started fucking her yet. 

“Is this what all the girls were raving about? Cos right now I’m incredibly unimpressed Satoru,” you breathe out, a cheeky smile playing on your lips as you turn your head back , eyes finding his behind you. His eyes narrow as they stare back at you, not amused by your taunts in the slightest - so he picks up the pace, hips slamming into you as your mouth falls open, fingers tightening around the pillow underneath you, head falling down to your chest as you try to muffle the sounds threatening to escape you from the sudden pleasure. One hand is gripping your hip so hard, you were sure there would be a mark there and the other is teasingly running up and down your clothed spine. 

“O-oh fuck why do you have to feel so gooddd” you pant out begrudgingly, the end of your sentence forming into a whine as your hips moving back in sync against him. “Yeah? Ya still unimpressed? Or should. I. Go. Harder.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly hard thrust, your moans getting too loud for your liking, and you lose all sense of control in your body as you feel yourself move up the mattress with each thrust. The hand teasing your spine bunches the back of your shirt in his fist as he pulls you back onto his cock, “Now where do you think you’re going sweetheart? God, you have no idea how fucking good you look right now.” he breathlessly mumbles out, his voice deeper as he watches you struggle underneath him, your hair splayed out on your back, his hat still on your head, knuckles turning white from clutching onto the pillow so hard and the sweetest sounds leaving your swollen lips. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life, feeling yourself leaking down your thighs and of course Satoru takes note of this, his free hand swiping the dripping wetness from the inside of your thigh with his nimble fingers, moving to circle your clit in slow movements, his thrusts getting faster. “S-so good holy fuck~” you whine out, eyes rolling back into your head. 

A snicker escapes Satoru as he watches you fall apart further, mouth open and drool threatening to drip down the corner of your mouth as your cheek is squished onto the pillow underneath your head, your soft whimpers and pants making him want to fuck you harder. He moves his hand from your clit to grab your jaw, making you twist your head to face him as he rudely shoves two of his fingers into your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them, drool now freely dripping down your chin as he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in the process. He kisses his teeth in faux annoyance “Tch, messy girl aren’t you?” He taunts, leaning his body down onto yours, his other hand brushing back the hair sticking to your forehead in an almost sweet gesture in comparison to the way he was practically slamming into you, and the cute moment was effectively ruined when he bunches your hair into a makeshift ponytail pulling your head back, his hat falling off your head all while thrusting into you deeper. You let out a particularly loud squeal, muffled by his fingers in your mouth and his smirk widens, repeatedly hitting that same spot with the same vigour as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Fuck you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, tilting your jaw to the side as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling around yours, his hips never seeming to falter in the cruel pace he’s set out for your pussy. All you could do was whine into his mouth, any semblance of speaking having already left you the second he had put his cock in you and with the way he was hitting that spot inside you, you don’t think you’d be able to speak again. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, spit dripping down your chin as you look at him with clouded eyes and a flushed face. 

“Look at you pretty girl, fucked you stupid haven’t I?” he mutters, looking at you with such awe, his hand still gripping onto your jaw as he leans his body down onto yours, his cock now reaching deeper into you as his thrusts start to become harder, your body jolting and your moans getting louder with every move. “T-toru, ‘m close,” I pant out, letting out small sniffles. “Yeah? You wanna come for me?” he taunts, his hips slowing down on purpose, the hand holding your hair pulling your head back further with a harsh tug for his lips to scatter soft kisses and nibbles on the sides of your neck as you nod impatiently, tears brimming in your eyes. Another whine escapes you as you look at him pitifully, pupils blown wide and lips trembling as you become desperate for release, grinding back onto his dick for in need of more friction. He tuts, his hands moving to grip your hips, stilling your movements. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he grits out, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck and pinning you down, cheeks squished onto the mattress. “You wanna come, you beg for it like the good girl I know you are, understand?” Tears of frustration were now freely running down your cheeks, your face an absolute flushed mess of tears and drool and the sight of you was enough to make Satoru cum right there and then. He thought he should be getting an award for the amount of self control he’s shown so far. But he was quickly brought back to reality when he heard your precious, albeit muffled, voice whimper out a “Toruuu pleaseee~ please lemme cum”, paired with those pretty big eyes of yours and your pussy walls clenching almost teasingly around him, made him choke back a moan. And when you were begging so prettily, how could he say no to you? 

“That’s my girl” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head before his hips once again began snapping into you relentlessly, the warmth from his body almost lying on top of your back making your head spin. His thumb found its way back into your parted mouth once more, pressing into the back of your bottom teeth, forcing your mouth open further causing even more drool to spill from the corners of your mouth, rendering you a helpless mess underneath him. His free hand slithered its way down to your clit, fingertips rubbing it tantalisingly slowly, your legs were already shaking and his ministrations on your clit made you want to close your legs. Your actions were quickly stopped by Satoru, his hand gripping your thigh pushing your leg further out, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in front of you for dear life at this point. “Keep 'em open,” he hissed out, fingers going back to your clit once he felt your walls squeeze around his dick. “C-cumming Toru~” your words were muffled and barely comprehensible as you babbled around his spit-covered thumb in your mouth. “Yeah? Cum for me sweet girl, c’mon you can do it,” He purred out, the sound of your wet pussy and his hips snapping into yours filling the room. Your jaw went slack, his thumb leaving your mouth to now rub soothing circles onto your jawline as he watched you come undone beneath him, his breath staggering as his self-control was slowly disappearing. “There you gooo, such a good girl. You did such a good job for me baby~” He cooed into your ear, his other hand going gently up and down your spine. “Can you hold on a bit more f’me?” he asks, checking in on you with a soft look in his eyes, and you nod, still dazed from your orgasm. He lets out a small chuckle at the state of you, “Good, cos I’m not done,” he grits out, flipping you over onto your back and resuming his thrusts in you all while looking down at you, his chest glistening with sweat, the front strands of his hair sticking to his forehead slightly. You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes and you bring your arms up tiredly looping one around his neck bringing him closer down to you as the other brushes away the hair from his forehead, mimicking his earlier actions.

“Fuck ‘m so close sweetheart” he whimpers out, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his steady rhythm wavered slightly. “Cum f’me Toru~” you breathe out sweetly into his ear, your hands tangled in his hair as you hold him close to you and Satoru swore he saw heaven when he heard those words in his ear as he lifts his head from his spot in your shoulder, panting out. “W-where do you w-” before he could even finish his question you looked him straight in the eyes and whimpered out your answer, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you.. “Inside please…” A loud groan leaves Satoru’s lips as he throws his head back at your words. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me sweetheart,” he grumbles out, his hips staggering as he cums, filling you up with his warm load and you stare up at him through wet lashes, clenching around him purposefully just to hear him whimper again. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty chest sticking to your equally sweaty shirt, letting out a huff, mumbling in your ear, “Best. Fuck. Ever.” and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle, running your fingers through his hair gently. “Shut it Gojo,” you retort, biting back a smile when his head whips out of his hiding place in your neck, face contorting into an expression which could only be described as complete disbelief and confusion. “Sweetheart I just fucked you speechless on my cock and you wanna go back to last name basis? Be so for real right now.” Although your face flushed at his words, you burst into giggles at his last statement. Trust Satoru Gojo to still have the audacity to be sassy after sex. 

“Sorry Toru~” you purr out, nails grazing up and down the back of his neck.

“Better.” he mumbles out, lips formed into a slight pout as his face plops back down onto your chest. 

“So like… you still hate me?”

“Ehhh, guess you’re not so bad after all.”

“Are you just saying that 'cos I made you cum?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking brat.”

ミ★ notes from star: the ending was a bit rushed but i hope you enjoyed it lovelies!

prettyngeto © 2024. all rights reserved - please do not plagiarise, translate, steal and repost any of my works on any social platforms for whatever reason.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Iron Throne

Summary: Y/N is afraid that the Iron Throne will spurn her due to her parentage, Aegon disagrees. Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, Smut, Oral (F receiveing)

Y/N and Aegon speak freely when they are alone, about the weight of her duties and what he, as her husband, might do to help shoulder them. Lately the topic has been a simpler one, Y/N’s fear of the Iron Throne and how she dreads the day she must eventually sit it.

“What of it frightens you, sweet girl?” Aegon wonders, watching her pace at the foot of their bed.

“That it will spurn me, because I am unworthy.” Y/N admits.

Aegon hums. “You are worthy. Come, I will show you.”

“Now?” Y/N chokes out.

“Yes, my love there is no one there.” Not in the middle of the night.

She hesitates, wringing her hands. “You know what I am.”

“My wife,” Aegon reminds her, “my future Queen.”

Y/N sighs, holding out a hand. Allowing him to lead her down to the empty throne room, demanding the guards provide no one entrance until they are finished.

The throne looms, like a dark omen over the room. Though Aegon does not seem to notice, walking his wife towards it and turning her to face him.

“Gods, you are beautiful.” He remarks, brushing dark hair over her shoulders. “Made to be worshipped, made to be Queen.”

Y/N smiles, pressing a kiss to his lips, “you’re one to talk.”

Aegon rests a hand against the tiny swell of the abdomen. “That’s how we got here a fifth time, hmmm?”

“It’ll be an even six, no doubt.”

“Or seven,” Aegon’s eyes come alight with mischief. “Then of course, it’d have to be eight.”

“Why stop at eight when we could have ten?”

“You’re stalling,” Aegon wags a finger at her. “Sit down for me, nice and slow.”

Y/N stops breathing all together as she takes her place on the throne.

“Good girl,” he coos.

Y/N inhales, sharply.

“Just as I said, nothing has happened.”

“I want to get off now.”

“Not until you’re comfortable.”

“Please, Aegon.” She whines.

“I will never let anything or anyone hurt you,” Aegon leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’m going to help you get over your fear of this silly chair.”

“How?” Y/N wonders.

“By feasting on your pretty cunt as you sit upon it, and each time you take to this throne, you will think of my mouth.”

She catches his face in her hands, “you cannot.”

“I must, my dearest love.” Aegon hushes her, “what kind of husband would I be if I allow you to walk around with such fear?”

Y/N swallows.

“Be good.” He affords her a reassuring smile before kneeling at her feet. Pressing a sweet kiss to the swell of her belly, the child has finally made their presence known. “Lift your hips for me.”

Y/N obeys, allowing him to slide her small clothes down to her ankles.

Her nightgown remains perfectly placed, with Aegon sliding up beneath her skirts. Applying gentle pressure to her knees until they part.

He groans, inhaling the familiar scent of her. “You are heavenly.” His tongue flicks over her cunt in practiced strokes.

His hair is hidden beneath her dress, nothing for her to cling to and the distance between them becomes too much to bear.

“I want your hand,” she chokes out.

“Yes, my Queen.” Aegon purrs, slightly muffled beneath the fabric. He slides one hand away from her trembling thigh to find hers, lacing their fingers together. “I live only to serve you.”

Her free hand curls around the arm rest, of its own volition. Her skin pristine and unscathed by the metal.

By then she’s relaxed enough that Aegon eases her legs farther apart, bending them up and over the arms of the chair. Slipping two fingers into her slick cunt.

“Aegon.”

He hums, in acknowledgement. Sometimes his sweet girl wishes to say his name just because she loves him. Because he’s pleasing her so well.

Lost in her passion, she scarcely notices the way her body is draped over the throne of swords with abandon. She is safe and loved…all she’s ever hoped to be.

Aegon redoubles his efforts, bringing her to peak. Covering his tongue and fingers with her slick, meeting her pearl with little kitten licks, until she squirms. Pushing against his head in protest, with one final kiss to her pulsing cunt, he pulls his mouth away. Curling his fingers against the spongy part of her inner walls as he stands, looming over her.

Her perfect lips agape, dark brows pulled together. “Fuck.”

“If you could see yourself now, my dearest love.” Aegon groans, “the smallfolk would line up at the foot of this throne, by the thousands for a chance to please you.”

“I only want you.”

Aegon’s eyes soften. He’s allowed one man to fuck her, so could hold her face in his hands and watch her features contort without distraction.

She took his cock well, for which Aegon praised her, though she could not find release until Aegon’s own fingers brushed her pearl. The same way he can cum for his ladies, but never as long or hard as he does for her.

Fucking is nice, something to do whilst he’s bored and craving excitement. Love making is more than that, something he only ever had the desire to do with her.

“How do you want me?”

“Inside me,” Y/N pants.

Aegon chuckles, “I meant to ask if you are comfortable? Or shall I bend you over the throne?”

“Over the throne,” she nods. “Or you could sit and I could ride your cock.”

Aegon mulls it over, “as much as I’d love you to sink down on me, I have no fear of this chair. You do, so up you go, turn around for me.” He withdraws his fingers, sucking them clean.

To his surprise she kneels, resting her cheek against the seat of the throne, with her arms folded over her head.

“I thought we might stand, my darling.”

“I cannot stand.” She whimpers, “I need your cock.”

“Needy thing.” Aegon kneels behind her, lifting her skirts once more and freeing himself from his sleep clothes. He slides into her with ease, he was made to be there. Leaning forward to place his arms beneath her, allowing her sweet face to rest against his skin rather than the cool metal swords. “I love you endlessly.”

She nods, “I love you.”

“You are worthy of this throne, you are worthy of the crown, and to rule.” Aegon feels her cunt flutter with the beginnings of her peak. “Y/N Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm.”

[nockstormbringer]

PLATONIC TELEMACHUS WITH TWIN SISTER READER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHES BASICALLY A COPY OF ODYSSEUS AND A MAMAS GIRL WHO TRIES TO KILL THE SUITORS REGULARY

Napping || Telemachus

Synopsis → Telemachus with a twinsister! Reader who is a mini-Odysseus.

Warning → The Suitors, Voilence, Abuse, Telemachus lowkey being a hypocrite, Mentions of Monsters

A/n → Oh my god, I'm finally able to post, currently in English finishing this request. These two girls in my English who are sitting right next to me are rough housing and laughing so loud, its embarrassing. 🤡

Word Count → 697

↳ Oh my god, Telemachus would absolutely dote on his sister. Doesn’t matter if she’s the elder or younger twin.

↳ Though if she is the younger twin, he’s absolutely gonna be that brother who constantly reminds her of it. Doesn’t matter place or time.

“Y/n/n, I’m just looking out for you. It’s my duty as your big brother to defend you.”

“You’ve never even been in a fight.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

↳ He’s so hypocritical too, like yeah, sure, you’ve fought monsters and won fights against men larger than you, BUT, he advises you that climbing that rock could get you hurt.

↳ He’s such a dork though, and gets excited every time he finds something he thinks you would love. Like a cool rock, maybe something that use to belong to your father before he left for the war of Troy.

↳ Telemachus no doubtably defends you against the suitors, even if you’ve proven to be able to handle them in a fight.

↳ He’s watched you fight many battles, and win majority of them, so when an altercation starts up between the suitors and/or himself, he knows you’ll be there to end the fight quickly and swiftly.

↳ He fears for the day you come of age, worried that Queen Penelope can no longer prevent you from marriage.

↳ Even so, he knows that suitors could absolutely kick his ass, so he tries to keep you away from them at all costs.

↳ Telemachus loves spending time with both you and your mother. At least once a week, there will be a day where you three just do whatever. From spa sessions, to long walks alongside the shoreline, the same one in which Odysseus promised to return from.

↳ You both are constantly told of how you both resemble Odysseus, whether with your fighting skills, personality, traits or just overall everything that made the King of Ithaca so him.

↳ More than once, have the servants been spooked, especially those who have been serving the castle from before you and Telemachus were born, because of how much you two look and even act like Odysseus.

↳ It’s one of the biggest things you two are praised for, and one of the biggest things the suitors hate about you both.

↳ After a particularly hard day, whether from a fight gone wrong, the suitors were somehow worse than usual or just feeling gloomy, you both just rest with each other.

↳ You two just sleep in either your own or Telemachus’ room, or even the garden. One time, Penelope found you two sleeping against Odysseus’ statue.

↳ Argos' so cute, he switches between sleeping in yours, Telemachus and Penelope room. Absolute cuddle bug of a dog, he's so loving.

↳ Telemachus would be torn between wanting you to accompany him to get Odysseus back. He doesn’t want you to get hurt on the journey, but he also worries for what the suitors will do.

↳ Obviously you go with him, but he was still hesitant.

↳ After that whole ordeal, big family reunion with Odysseus!!

↳ You all cried, like a lot. Penelope and Odysseus have their lovebirds moment and it sends both you and Telemachus into tears.

↳ But yay! No more suitors!

↳ Its sort of weird at first adjusting to Odysseus being home again, considering you and Telemachus hadn't actually known him before the war, but you all fall into a nice routine.

↳ Odysseus makes up for lost time and takes old man naps with both you and Telemachus, roughly 2-5 times a week. Penelope joins most days.

↳ Telemachus trains a lot, wanting to get stronger, to protect you, Penelope and even Odysseus. Your father tries telling him that he can protect all of you, but everyone can see he's getting older. Even he.

↳ But, nonetheless, Odysseus humours Telemachus, and trains with him, giving great pointers and teaching him new tricks. Most days, you join in, and Odysseus loves training with his kids.

↳ You've managed to hand their asses to both of them, leaving them with sore muscles and aching bones. Both Odysseus and Telemachus are incredibly proud of you.

↳ Overall, Telemachus tries his hardest to protect you, even if you or someone else kick his ass. <3

thank you!! ♡

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Avy jorrāelan

req: full request here.

warnings: smut, canon typical targaryen incest, male! brother!reader, bottom!r, top!jace, this is longer than i expected, smut with plot, hand job

MASTERLIST

As much as you adored your brother, he had always been distant. When growing up, he didnt do much with you, always off training or something. But he was always sweet, and kind to you when you were together. You remembered many fond moments you shared during your childhood with the boy.

You’re not quite sure when this innocent crush on him started. For most of your life, you had only been around your family, clinging to Jace most of all, following him around like a lost puppy. You grew up around him, you knew him more than anyone else had. You only wanted to serve him, to be loved by him.

Jacaerys was none the wiser about your infatuation with him, of course, he was always confused by the sudden gifts that sometimes flooded his room, the compliments, the staring, and the affection you showed him. He brushed it off as an innocent fascination and adoration from his brother.

Jace didn’t know that everything he said to you replayed in your mind constantly, overthinking every little word and sentence he uttered, breaking the sentences apart to understand what he had meant. Jace didn't know that you held onto every little crumb of affection he gave you, that those crumbs had given you more hope that perhaps your brother shared the same love for you as you did him.

And so, as the war began, time passed and lives were ended, the council talked and talked about alliances they could make and how. That is when they came up with an idea that for some reason, infuriated Jace. 

“Prince Jacaerys, sir, he’s old enough to be wed, and this alliance would help, I do not see why n-” one protested, thinking the idea to be a rather smart one.

Jace shook his head before interrupting the man. “I do not want to hear about it anymore. There has to be better options.” He ignored the odd look that Rhaenyra gave him, turning his head the other way. 

Later that night, in his bed. He sat staring at his high ceiling, wondering over and over why he cared so much about whether you should be married off or not. Nothing he did distracted him from his thoughts, and he struggled deeply to sleep, tossing and turning throughout the entire night.

The next morn, you walked with one goal in your mind. With the war raging on and people counting on you all, you knew what you had to do. You breathed heavily as you stepped into the dragonpit, Silverwing in the middle.

You took a deep breath, walking closer and closer to the large silver dragon. She huffed in your face, staring curiously at you. You had decided that she would be the best dragon, because she tend to be more docile and kinder to strangers.

You had lessons as a child on how to claim a dragon, just never made no actual effort to claim one. But you knew that today was the day. Her tail whipped around, you yelping, ducking under it so that it didn’t crush you and fling you to the walls.

“Y/n!” You heard a voice shout from behind you, your brother. You didn’t glance back at him, gulping before you attempted to mount her, putting your hands on her sides, gently petting her.

“Lykirī.” You murmured to her, watching her head stare at you, move closer to your figure. You shut your eyes, feeling her hot breath near your face. Your breathing was erratic, and you knew you had to calm down before you did anything.

The creature let out a loud roar, you slightly stumbling back, but regaining your balance. You turned to the dragon now, staring at her, your brother far behind standing with Rhaenyra. “Lykirī.” You repeated to the dragon.

Rhaenyra held out a hand in front of the boy, like he made an attempt to get you away from the dragon.

You turned your attention back to the dragon, large beady eyes staring into yours. You calmed your breathing, reminding yourself that this dragon would help your mother, would help your brother. And that was all the reason you needed.

You took a deep breath, slowly climbing on top of the dragon, who let out quieter noises now, still following your every move. You mounted the dragon successfully, smiling widely as you stared down at her. You grabbed onto the reins at her sides tightly.

“Sovès.” You told her, and she took off into the air. With the wind in your hair, and the clouds below you, you felt peace. That was until you went back onto the ground, your smile falling when you hopped off of silverwing, being met face to face with Jace, who didn’t look as happy as your mother did.

She spoke a congratulations, Jace glaring at you and not speaking a word until you both were alone, and he gripped your arm, pulling you aside.

"What were you thinking?" he asked urgently, his furrowed brow revealing his frustration. You stood there, confused, unable to understand why he was so upset.

“Wh- what? Why are you mad?” You asked the boy, shoving his arm off of you. He huffed, glancing around.

“Because, that was an incredibly dangerous thing to do. You didn’t even think to tell us? To tell me? You just marched on in here! You could’ve gotten hurt! What if we hadn’t been there and something happened? I would’ve never been able to forgive myself!”

“I wanted you to be happy for me, proud of me!” You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest, trying to fight the tears that dared to fall.

“It was stupid, y/n. Gods, why must you be so…”

You looked at the boy, the tears falling once you couldn’t help it anymore. “So what, Jace?”

“Nevermind.” He sighed, shaking his head, glancing down at the floor and avoiding your teary eyes. He hated when you cried, but now he had no one to blame but himself.

“Say it!” You told him, bringing your hand up and shoving his shoulder. “Say it! I’m so what, Jace? I’m stupid?”

“Your decisions are stupid.”

You bitterly laughed at his response, shaking your head. “I am stupid. I am utterly stupid for thinking that you would be happy for me.” You mumbled, he attempted to stop you when you turned, hearing his shout your name.

The next few days, you sulked around, everyone had noticed it, and was confused at your odd behavior. You hadn’t talked to Jace since then, avoiding him like the plague. You simply glanced at each other when you were at the table, but not uttering a word.

Jace had enough. The silence between the both of you was killing him. You being upset over him was killing him. So, he took a deep breath, before quietly knocking on your door, as to not wake or disturb anyone else.

You walked over to the door, opening it and peeking out. You opened it more upon seeing Jace.

“What?” You murmured to the boy, not quite wanting to see him.

“Can you come out?”

Your eyebrows raised, tilting your head in confusion. “W-what?”

“Please. Just come out of your room. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” You responded.

“I have our dragons ready for us.”

This piqued your curiosity, you opening the door wider. “Why?”

“I thought we should go out and fly.” He shrugged, glancing around. “Come on.”

You sighed, silently closing the door behind you and following Jace outside, where Silverwing and Vermax sat, waiting for you both to mount them.

You shook your head, smiling at your brothers idea.

“Does anyone know?” You asked him quietly. He smiled back at you, shaking his head, walking over to Vermax while you walked to Silverwing, both of you mounting the dragons at the same time.

You held onto the reins, glancing at your brother as you spoke to your dragon. “Sovès.”

You took off into the sky, your brother not far behind. After you were above the clouds, you stopped her, and you were drifting now. Jace caught up, your dragons side by side.

“I’m sorry for how I acted. The other day.” He told you, you turning to face him. His face looked guilty, like he had held his regrets.

“I am sorry as well.” You admitted.

“Don’t be. It was me who was being unreasonable.” He shrugged, small smile gracing his features now.

As he stared at you, and you stared back, Jacaerys had come to a realization. He was in love with you. That’s what’s been eating at him forever. He’s kept his feelings down in his chest, pushing them away anytime the thought came up. He realized it now.

You swallowed, turning to face the sky again. His gaze remained on you. You both talked, about honestly everything and anything you could. You had missed his smile, his laughter. Your heart was slowly mending back together with each moment you had with the boy.

After a while of talking and riding both dragons, you both landed outside, handing the dragons back to the dragon keepers outside. You both laughing as you ran down the halls, you opening your room doors after sneaking past some guards.

Your brother stood in front of you, leaning in your doorway when you entered. You quirked an eyebrow at the boy, he swallowed, stepping closer to you, his hands going to your face.

Your mouth went agape when his hands cupped your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You slowly leaned in, shutting your eyes, his lips meeting yours halfway.

You both melted into the kiss. He closed the doors behind him, gently pushing your further into the room, and then onto your bed.

His hand was on the small of your back, he panted for air when he pulled away, looking down at you underneath his body. You smiled up at the boy, heart racing at what was about to come.

His pace was slow once he was inside of you, you clutching tightly onto his back, holding his body closer to yours. You let out grunts and groans, both your noises filling up the room.

“I love you.” He mumbled to you, the confession making his heart feel lighter. You looked at the boy with all the adoration and love he swears he’s ever felt.

“Avy jorrāelan.” You replied softly, his eyes searching yours. His hand went down too your cock, you letting out a moan. He leaned down, pushing his mouth onto yours again as he began to tug at your member, your pre-cum falling onto his hands.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He muttered against your shoulder blade, kissing the skin there as well. His breath fell hot on it.

“I’ve waited longer for you.” You chuckled lowly, feeling his lips quirk up into a smile against your shoulders.

“Mayhaps.” He breathed out, feeling that familiar coil build in his stomach. You looked down where you both connected, before looking back at him.

“Jace…” you cried out at a particular thrust, his hands working at your cock faster.

“I know, I know.” He sighed out, feeling his release close as well. He placed a kiss on your collarbone, shooting his cum inside you with a groan, and yours spilling onto his hand.

[bamfkeeper]

Reunion.

RQ: 'I was hoping for some hurt/comfort 🙏🏽. I was never really satisfied with Kurt and Amanda's reunion after he came back to life(aside from the fact that that ship gives me a major ick for ibv reasons). It was so anticlimactic! You would think a woman who knew him all his life would she'd a few tears. I was wondering what your take on a reunion scene with Kurt would be? Like the reader was a member of the X-Men and saw Bastion kill Kurt. Because of her grief she leaves the team unable to cope from the loss. And then after years of being without him he just shows up at her apartment just like he did with Amanda.' - @gildedjerk

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: Major character death | Descriptions of injuries | Mourning & grief | Happy ending ofc

A/N: Wooo I had a lot of fun with this one. Angst and comfort, yum. Anyway I did try to give a realistic response to him coming back from the dead. I was stuck between two reactions but I think this one is good. I hope you enjoy! Unedited hehe WC: 3.0k

It had only been a week. A week since your heart became slow, dull, and empty.

The mansion took a hit. The team broken into pieces.

It was unusually quiet around the manor. Normally, the sound of padding footsteps and excited laughter and voices filled the halls, but now...it was silent. You weren't' the only one that lost something, but by all hell, you deserved to grieve.

You hadn't left the bedroom you shared for days, your body curled tightly on the bed, clutching his suit against your chest as if it were a lifeline. Tears flowed endlessly, soaking the pillow beneath your head. The salty streams seemed inexhaustible, leaving your eyes red and swollen, leaving you with a constant headache you ignored. You were likely severely dehydrated from the constant outpouring of grief, but in your state of mourning, those concerns held no importance to you. All you desired was to be left alone with your sorrow, to process the loss in solitude.

His suit bore a large, jagged hole, Kurt's dried blood stained the fabric, a sight that simultaneously pained you and kept you connected to him. You couldn't bring yourself to wash it, fearing that doing so would erase the last tangible traces of his presence. The suit still carried his distinct scent, a bittersweet comfort that you clung to desperately. No amount of spraying with cologne could ever bring back his natural musk that he had, and you would rather die than get rid of it.

Embedded within the flexible fabric were tufts of his fur, some parts adhering more stubbornly than others. As you ran your fingers over these patches, you recalled with a mixture of fondness and anguish his playful complaints about how the suit would cause him to shed. Those light-hearted moments now seemed like echoes from a distant, happier time, making the overwhelming ache of his absence feel much worse.

The team struggled to regroup, attempting to rally support and formulate a plan of action in the aftermath of the blatant slaughter they endured. However, you found yourself emotionally paralyzed, unable to contribute to their efforts. The weight of loss and despair settled heavily upon your shoulders, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. In a daze, you rose from your seat, your movements mechanical and detached from conscious thought. You were on autopilot, nothing else mattered, you couldn’t even think.

You began to pack your belongings, carelessly tossing clothes into a small bag without regard for order or neatness. Your fingers then ghosted over the familiar fabric of his suit, the last tangible remnant of Kurt's presence in your life. With reverence, you gently lifted the garment, cradling it against your chest as if it were a fragile, living thing. This suit, once a symbol of his strength and selfless heroism, now served as a poignant reminder of all you had lost. As you held it close, memories of Kurt flooded your mind, intensifying the ache of his absence and solidifying your decision to depart.

You had no tears left. Not right now.

You took your bag and you left.

The nightmares were relentless, haunting your sleep with disturbing frequency. Night after night, your subconscious mind replayed the horrific scene of Kurt's demise, each detail etched with painful clarity like you were reliving that exact moment over and over again. The vivid imagery of Bastion's merciless act - the brutal impalement - refused to fade. You could still see, with sickening precision, the crimson spray erupting from Kurt's azure lips, staining his chest in a macabre pattern, the life essence dripping down his skin and mocking you. The memory of his lithe form, once so full of life and grace, suddenly tensing and then crumpling lifelessly to the ground as Bastion withdrew his weapon, was seared into your mind.

The physical sensations were equally intense. You distinctly recalled the disorienting waves of heat and cold that washed over you, and the violent tremors that wracked your body as adrenaline surged through your system in rage fueled torrents. The emotional trauma was blatant, manifesting in physical symptoms that left you feeling drained and vulnerable, pathetically and frantically scrambling to get to his side in the middle of the battlefield.

The image of your final moments with Kurt were the worst of it all, your eternal Hell that never ceased. Holding his rapidly cooling body in your arms, you watched helplessly as the light in his beautiful, golden eyes gradually dimmed. Even in his last breaths, Kurt's selflessness shone through, as he valiantly attempted to offer you solace and comfort, despite his own dire circumstances.

Your grief and suffering was a wound that never healed. Each night proved that it would only reopen from the desperate scab it tried to become.

As the years passed, your close friends from the mansion persistently attempted to maintain contact with you, but you deliberately distanced yourself from them. The desire to communicate with them had completely faded, and you found yourself wanting to sever all ties with the X-Men.

Your sole focus became an attempt to carve out an existence devoid of the tumultuous chaos that had been an inherent part of life within that unconventional, misfit family. You couldn’t stand any more pain, the loss you took had been severe, thinking about any of your old friends losing their lives was too much to bear.

You retreated into a life of solitude, taking on a mundane and unremarkable job that offered little stimulation or fulfillment. It wasn't so much living as it was merely existing - a bare-bones survival that felt hollow but required.

Yet, in your current state of mind, this was all you felt capable of managing. The weight of your grief remained a constant companion, refusing to lift even as time marched relentlessly forward. The passage of years did little to alleviate the profound sense of loss that had taken root in your heart, leaving you trapped in a perpetual state of mourning that colored every aspect of your isolated existence.

You tried therapy, for a while.

It didn’t help much.

You were constantly bombarded with well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful advice. People would tell you to move on, as if it were a simple switch you could flip.

They'd say he was in a better place now, as though that somehow lessened your pain.

They'd remind you that years had passed, implying that your grief should have an expiration date.

But none of these platitudes actually provided any comfort or solace. In fact, being told to move on was perhaps the most infuriating of all. It felt dismissive, insensitive, and completely disconnected from the depth of your loss.

The suggestion to move on ignited a spark of anger within you. How could anyone possibly understand the magnitude of what you'd been through? You couldn't even share the full story with them, the pervasive discrimination and prejudice against mutants still ran deep in society, and you weren't ready to expose that part of yourself.

But regardless of the details you had to keep hidden, the fact remained that you had lost the person who brought light and love into your world. It was as if the sun had been extinguished, leaving you in perpetual darkness. The audacity of someone demanding that you simply move on from such a profound loss was both hurtful and enraging. How dare they trivialize your grief and dictate the timeline of your healing? Your pain was yours to process, and no one had the right to tell you when or how to do it.

You came back from a rather dreary work day, annoyed and angry with the world. It felt so unfair. You wondered if Kurt would be disappointed in the sheer amount of hatred that you allowed to consume you. Did it matter?

As you closed your door, you trudged through your barren apartment, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness. You hadn’t bothered to decorate, it was just you, and when you were home all you did was sleep. No reason to waste money on furniture.

Suddenly, a familiar scent wafted through the air - brimstone. That sharp, smoky odor that had haunted your senses for years now made its presence known once again. The acrid smell tickled your nostrils, bringing with it a flood of memories you'd rather forget. At first, you dismissed it as another phantom smell, a lingering remnant of Kurt that your mind conjured up in moments of solitude. After all, these olfactory ghosts had been your constant companions over the years, taunting and mocking you with their ephemeral nature.

You continued your way through the apartment, your mind wrestling with the reality of the scent. The logical part of your brain insisted it was just another trick of your senses, a cruel joke played by your subconscious. Yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was different this time. The smell seemed more tangible, more real than the fleeting wisps of memory you were accustomed to. Still, you pushed the thought aside, convincing yourself it was nothing out of the ordinary.

You were just tired. It had been a long day.

As you rounded the frame of the door, preparing to step into the next room, an inexplicable chill ran down your spine. In that instant, you felt everything around you freeze up. The air grew thick and heavy, as if time itself had come to a standstill. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the familiar figure laying on your couch.

Kurt smiled at you, his familiar figure rising from his seat. His arms extended in a welcoming gesture, a warmth radiating from his presence that you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. "Liebling...I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice carrying the same tender inflection you remembered.

Every detail about him was overwhelmingly authentic - from the timbre of his voice to the subtle cologne mixed with that harsh brimstone that always clung to his clothes. Your senses were inundated with evidence of his reality; he wasn't just there, he was undeniably real.

A maelstrom of emotions surged through you, leaving you utterly bewildered.

What the Hell is happening?

The thought ricocheted through your mind, unable to find purchase in the face of this impossibility.

You found yourself frozen, incapable of formulating a coherent response. The shock of the moment had completely blindsided you, leaving you reeling as if you'd been struck. It was as though you were face to face with an apparition, a specter from your past that had inexplicably materialized before your eyes.

But this was no ethereal vision - this was tangible, corporeal.

The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on you; if this was indeed some sort of phantasm, it certainly had a sick sense of humor.

Your lips parted as you let out a soft, trembling sound, his name barely a whisper escaping through the opening. Your eyes, wide with disbelief, were glued on him, taking in every detail of his familiar yet seemingly impossible presence. His demeanor faltered slightly as he noticed your lack of enthusiasm at his sudden appearance, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Ah, liebe...I...understand this might be quite shocking to you..." He mumbled out shyly, his voice a mixture of hope and apprehension as he slowly walked towards you, each step careful and measured. "But, I am back. I am truly here, alive and breathing. Can you see that?"

You remained rooted to the spot, unable to bring yourself to move a single muscle. The overwhelming tsunami of emotions that crashed over you felt like it was too much for your body and mind to handle. A wave of nausea washed over you, making you feel as though you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, your stomach churning violently. The sheer impossibility of the situation threatened to overwhelm you completely.

You couldn't fathom how he could be here, standing in your apartment, flesh and blood, after years of believing he was dead. The grief you had painstakingly lived with, the torturous reminders that mocked you every day - it all came crashing down around you in an instant, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom.

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, sensing the overwhelming shock that had gripped you. He anticipated a joyous reaction, but instead, a heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sob escaped your lips, echoing through the air and piercing the silence between you.

Taken aback, Kurt's body tensed, his eyes widening with a mixture of concern and confusion. This unexpected outburst was far from the jubilant reunion he had envisioned in his mind. The stark contrast between his hopeful expectations and the raw, emotional reality before him left him momentarily stunned.

You had always been strong and level-headed with your emotions, but seeing you like this made him realize his absence and sudden appearance again had clearly done some psychological damage. "L-liebling," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with uncertainty and worry.

Hesitantly, Kurt extended his hands towards you, offering comfort and desperate support. However, the fear of exacerbating your distress held him back from actually making contact. His fingers hovered in the air between you, trembling slightly as he grappled with the desire to console you and the apprehension of potentially making matters worse.

Kurt bridged the gap between you with a single, desperate motion, not wanting to watch you sob any longer. His arms enveloped you, strong yet gentle, pulling you against his chest. You felt the solid warmth of his body, a sensation you had been deprived of for what felt like an eternity.

As he held you close, Kurt became your anchor to reality, proof that this wasn't just another cruel dream. His familiar scent washed over you, a mix of brimstone and something uniquely him, further cementing his presence. "I'm here, liebe... I'm here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Es tut mir Leid... I never intended to be absent for so long, but... the circumstances of my return are a mystery even to me. Perhaps this is a divine gift, a second chance from Gott…a miracle. Ja?"

His words were soft, barely above a whisper, yet they resonated deeply within you. "I cannot imagine the anguish you've endured in my absence," he continued, his accent more pronounced in his emotional state. As he spoke, his hand moved in soothing circles on your back, a gesture so achingly familiar it threatened to unravel you completely.

In the safety of his embrace, years of bottled-up emotions finally found their release. The dam broke, and you allowed yourself to experience the full depth of your agony, your body shaking with the force of your long-suppressed grief. Kurt held you through it all, a steady presence as you wept the tumultuous sea of your emotions, whispering words of comfort and love in a mixture of English and German.

You don't know how long you cried for.

You felt your body gradually succumbing to exhaustion, your strength ebbing away with each passing moment. What seemed like mere minutes to your grief-stricken mind had, in reality, stretched into over an hour of uncontrollable sobbing. Throughout this emotional display, Kurt remained steadfast, his arms encircling you in an unwavering embrace, not daring to let you go. He bore witness to your anguish, listening intently to every heart-wrenching wail that escaped your lips, each cry a testament to the depth of your sorrow and mourning. He felt so horrible, seeing just how much you loved him and how the grief had overtaken your being.

Kurt did everything in his power to provide solace. He held you close, gently squeezing you with his arms, whispering soft reassurances, each gesture carefully crafted to soothe you.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "I'm not leaving. I promise..." His indigo lips grazed your sensitive temple while he whispered gentle nothings against your skin. The contact was feather-light, yet profoundly comforting. He peppered your clammy skin with tender kisses, unable to hold back on his affections.

The sudden nature of Kurt's reappearance left you reeling. After enduring the agonizing belief that he was gone forever, his unexpected return stirred up a complex cocktail of emotions - happiness, relief, anger. A part of you yearned for the joyous reunion he seemed to expect, but another part bristled at the simplicity of such an notion.

How could he materialize out of thin air, after all the grief and pain you had endured, and anticipate an uncomplicated, happy welcome? You supposed that is his specialty…appearing suddenly in a rapid purple cloud with that happy smile exposing his fangs.

Kurt wanted that happy reunion. He wanted you jumping in his arms and that loving, passionate kiss he dreamt of and missed since his departure from this plane of existence.

But you couldn't give him that. Not now.

For now, you needed his comforting presence more than anything else. Recognizing your emotional state, he gently lowered himself onto the couch, cradling you in his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, providing a sanctuary where you could finally release everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. As he held you close, you continued to sob and cry into his chest, each tear carrying with it a fragment of the pain and stress you had been harboring for so long.

Time seemed to stand still as you remained in his protective embrace, your sobs gradually subsiding as exhaustion began to overtake you. He made no move to interrupt this cathartic process, understanding that sometimes silence speaks louder than words. His steady heartbeat and warm presence served as a lullaby, slowly lulling you into a state of tranquility you hadn't experienced in years.

The conversation you needed to have could wait.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you found yourself drifting into a deep, peaceful slumber - a luxury that had eluded you for far too long. His presence alone had snuffed out the vicious plague that infected your mind, the nightmares that were forced upon you over and over of his gruesome death were destroyed.

For the first time in years, you actually slept.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight & @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Nightcrawler #1 (2014)

[igotanidea]

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

saurrr what do we need to do to get that deleted scene??? 👀🤲🏼

beg.

LJHDFJGHKJ KIDDING you asked and i shall serve with not only the deleted scene but two bonus scenes:

from the fic guerrilla (serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader)

wc: 4k

notes: surgeon yunho who just so happens to be a serial killer (a vigilante with morals if you must), reader is a writer working on gory crime fiction novels, they are housemates, fluffy stuff, talks about therapy, questionable morals, honestly very questionable morals, smut at the end (minors and anyone not comfortable with dark themes do not interact with the third section

"oh, you're home. almost didn't hear you," you said when you spotted yunho coming down the stairs. in the past few months, you had learned quite a few habits of his, one being that he could be as silent as a feather at times.

which was a bit scary, but you supposed it was just a natural skill of his.

"of course you didn't. you were humming something while you cooked," yunho stood near the counter, looking around and you muttered a silent curse- no wonder you didn't hear him. "need help?"

"yeah, if you could just set the table," you said and yunho obeyed instantly, taking out the utensils and scooping the dishes while you told him about your day- mail arrived, you befriended a stray cat that has now found home in your backyard, you went shopping for grocery today and got the stuff yunho had requested you to buy for him.

and while you ate, yunho said his thanks for saving him a trip to the grocery store and told you about his day- he went to assist a professor from his previous job in a complicated surgery upon his request. you told him he looked fond of that professor and he admitted that he owed most of his surgery skills to him and he often called him to assist him.

and just like that, you finished your meals and you started clearing the kitchen and washing the dishes while he went to the backyard to bring the laundry inside. it was the weekend and you wondered if yunho would join you in the living room just to hang out or watch something. or would he be too tired and just say goodnight and leave?

he stayed. he slumped down on the couch and took out his phone, probably responding to texts. you silently joined on the other end and turned on your laptop which opened to your document and reminded you of the question that had been looming over your head the entire day. you glanced at yunho but he seemed absorbed in his phone and you sighed- maybe you'll just ask him tomorrow-

"is something the matter?"

he didn't have to be that observant. you straightened. "nothing. just wanted to ask you something related to the book- but it can wait."

"you can ask me, y/n."

"you seem busy and tired, though..." your voice faltered when he shot you with a challenging look.

"never too busy for your weird questions."

"oh," you laughed a little and when he set his phone aside to focus on you, you stifled a satisfactory smile. "okay, so remember what i told you last time? the cop who's also a criminal, he's targeting the main character- the detective now. he finally baits her into entering the abandoned warehouse where she thought she would find some druggies."

"yes, and the warehouse doesn't have much space to run because of the abundance of shelves so when she's looking around, she keeps thinking she's hearing something- which is actually the criminal riling her up and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"yes," you smiled. "now, he's going to attack, and another unfortunate cop who accompanied our detective is going to get killed by him while trying to protect the detective. so that gets the detective all messed up in her head and she's lost her gun but there's a dagger lying on the floor- remember the dagger i showed you for reference?"

yunho nodded and you continued. "the detective aims to hurt the criminal, not kill, but the lines must be blurred so when she is questioned about her motives, she wonders if she actually intended to kill the man."

"because there's the fact that the criminal is her colleague and that could have worsened her anger. she might have actually wanted to kill him," yunho recalls.

"exactly," you shift in your position so your legs are tucked under you. "now... where would the detective stab him? self defense, anger, confusion, all these elements."

yunho hummed in thought, his eyes running all over your body. something you had noticed that whenever he answered one of your questions, he would envision them on you. that might have made you a flustered mess in the beginning when his eyes would fixate on a spot on your body but it didn't really bother you anymore- you supposed as a surgeon, he got lost in vivid imagination or something.

"there's quite a few ways we could achieve that, but i think if you can narrow it down, it might help."

"somewhere near the heart? throat? something that would disarm the criminal immediately," you said.

yunho nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on your neck now and you subconciously adjusted your shirt. he finally met your eyes. "i think this spot might do the trick."

yunho fisted his hand but outstretched the index finger. "suppose this is the tip of your dagger, right? you would want to stab right here," he turned his hand to touch the space between his collarbones. "this spot is tricky because for males and females, it's not the same."

"oh?" you touched that same spot on yourself. "how so?"

"males usually have a thicker clavicle," yunho explained, stretching the collar of his shirt to expose his collarbones. "the gap between the two may be wider but it's definitely easier to stab a man here than a woman."

you touched your own collarbones for reference in confusion and when yunho had enough of your struggling, he scooted closer and touched the space between your collarbones with his finger. "this part. v-shaped, right? it's a bit straighter for men. so if your criminal was a woman, i'd have you stab them... right here," yunho trailed his finger up and dug it in that spot. you nodded. "the clavicle is a bit narrower in females too," he trailed his finger along your collarbones. "and positioned at a more diagonal angle-"

he didn't realise when he started rambling but when he met your eyes, he found them wider than usual and your lips parted, and only then did he realise the proximity between you two. you gulped and he felt that movement on his finger still situated on your skin and his own lips parted in surprise, his mind going black when your gaze fell down there.

and if that damned phone hadn't buzzed repeatedly, he would have done something about you. he definitely would have, ignoring all his strict rules, because there was no way you didn't feel a certain way about him. he was sure you did, especially now. especially when he drew back to check his phone and heard you let out a deep breath. you had been holding your breath all this time.

"i, uh... i have to take this call," he pursed his lips.

"of course," you nodded.

"i hope that cleared your confusion?" yunho dared to ask and when you stifled a smirk, he got his answer.

-------------------------------------------

[bonus scene that takes place after the big revelation]

it's been a long time since you woke up feeling like there was a weight on your chest, unable to breathe properly, hair matted to your face and your head spinning.

a nightmare. no-

a memory.

you checked the time- it was almost 4. you shook your head- maybe you should have pushed yourself to stay awake until you passed out so you could have a dreamless sleep. you always slept better when you were tired- not the healthiest habit, but that was how you overcame your sleeping struggles as a teen when your father passed away.

would you have to do this all over again?

you managed to walk to the toilet to wash your face, staring at the sink for the longest time and letting the water run through your hands as if it could wash away the weight of what you had done before finally snapping out of it and turning the tap off, exiting the toilet to go to the kitchen. you took a deep breath and sat yourself on a stool in the kitchen, taking small sips from your glass.

you could not go back to sleep now. not anytime soon.

you briefly wondered when yunho got home- was he home yet? lately, you had been going to sleep at odd times so you didn't run into him much, but you couldn't sleep for long- you would always wake up, just like you did tonight. the nightmares were plaguing your rest hours-

the glass slipped from your hand and crashed on the floor loudly, making you squeal a little. you winced at how loud it sounded in the dead hours of the night and you tried to find a spot on the floor that was not covered with shards- how exactly were you going to put your feet on the floor with all the glass around you-

"y/n? is everything okay?"

you sighed internally. "did i wake you up? i'm sorry, the glass just slipped."

yunho turned on a light and surveyed the mess. "stay right there, okay? don't move- i'll get the broom."

you nodded and waited until he started cleaning the shards from around you, making sure he got everything and then running to your room quickly to get your slippers. you thanked him, taking the broom and dustpan from him this time, spotting a tiny shard at the other end of the kitchen.

"were you asleep? did i wake you up?"

"i got home like, an hour ago," yunho said. "was just scrolling a bit. are you okay, though? you look pale."

"yeah, i'm okay," you put the broom in a corner and washed your hands. when you dried them and turned, you noticed yunho watching you intently. "what?"

"did you have a nightmare or something?"

he always knew. somehow, he always saw through you.

"is it that obvious?" you let out a short laugh. "do i look like a mess?"

"i mean..." yunho stifled a smile. "you usually do look like a hot mess..."

"lovely to hear that," you nodded and he grinned, stepping forward and encasing you in his arms as he peered down at you.

"won't you talk to me about it?"

"what's there to talk about?" you cocked your head and yunho's heart sank a little at the way your eyes went blank. "i killed a man, yunho. again. of course i will have to live with the consequences now."

yunho licked his dry lips and he knew you had zoned out at the way your gaze was fixated on his face. "can i ask you something?"

it took you a moment to come back to your senses and nod. yunho took a deep breath. "do you regret killing the man who almost killed your father?"

"everything went wrong after i did that-"

"but if you could go back in time, would you change that?" yunho asked.

"no." you were sure you would make the same decision. "because if i had not done that, he would have killed all of us."

"so... do you regret killing the man from a few days ago?"

"not at all," your response was quick. "he was going to kill you. i would have done the same, no matter who it was."

yunho brought his hand to your cheek and caressed it, his eyes full of love. you continued, "but that doesn't change the fact that i have killed people."

"i know," yunho said. "you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. it won't get easier, it will always hang like a noose over your head. but if you keep all of this to yourself... it will only get harder, y/n."

"i just... i don't know what to do," you exhaled a deep breath, looking away. "i feel so helpless. you've done so much to help me, hell, you almost took the blame for it, but still..."

"all these feelings are normal," yunho took your hand and started guiding you to the couch in the living room. you both settled down close to each other with yunho's hand on your shoulder, his thumb caressing your neck. "but if it's troubling you to the point of nightmares... why didn't you tell me earlier, y/n? if there's anyone who can relate to you..."

"it's you, i know," you smiled a little. "and i'm okay, for the most part, but for a while that night, i really thought it was all over, and that scared me so much, yunho."

"it's okay-"

"it's not the remorse that's eating me up, see?" you let out a short laugh. "it's... the fact that it's not the remorse eating me up but my selfishness when i was scared that you were going to take the blame and i would have to pick up the pieces of what was left all by myself. that your friends would hate me for the rest of our lives. that you would rot away in prison, like my father did, and i would never get to touch you again. it's wrong, isn't it? that this is the product of my nightmares and i don't need to sleep to feel this? does this make me a monster, yunho?"

if yunho could tell you how he felt at that moment, perhaps you would cower away, but he just had to ask you something. "do you still think you're the monster when i'm right in front of you?"

you looked at his unbelievably soft gaze and furrowed, somewhat confused brows. the dim lights from the kitchen softened half of his face, but even the shadows on his face didn't change who he was. you found his hand on your neck and held it, pressing your lips against his palm.

"i have killed more people than i can count, y/n," yunho continued, his voice pained. "but if that means that the world is somehow safer, i will continue down this road no matter how weary i get. does that make me a bad person or a good person? i realised long ago that i needed to stop categorising myself into one category, however... i sure as hell wouldn't call myself a good person," he let out a short laugh and you shook your head.

"if you weren't a good person, you wouldn't have tried to take the blame for me that night. and on that note... what were you thinking when you did that? without hesitation? can you imagine how wrong it could have gone if you got caught at that time-"

yunho leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss and thought it took you by surprise initially, you quickly melted in his grasp, your heart fluttering uncontrollably at the way he held and kissed you. when he drew back, he lingered for a few moments before looking at you.

"i would have done that anyway, no matter the consequences," he told you and you smiled sadly. "for you... i would do it again. so will you listen to me? will you let me help you?"

you nodded and he pulled you in for a hug. you scooted closer, almost sitting in his lap as you wrapped your arms around his waist, fisting the material of his sweatshirt.

"i know how hard it is to live with what we have done, no matter how we feel about it or think we feel about it," he caressed your head. "we think we have it all figured out. we think we'll be okay but really... it's still a human life, isn't it?"

you nodded- he was absolutely right.

"i harboured so much negativity in myself when my parents were killed. i thought if i would face their killer, i would not hesitate to kill him, but i did, and it cost me my sanity for a good while. if it weren't for hongjoong and mingi helping me figure out everything that was going on... i would have been so lost. i still think i am- the twisted, monstrous part in me is okay with what i do-"

"please don't call yourself a monster," you whispered. "you're anything but."

yunho embraced you tighter. "thank you for believing in me, but you should also tell yourself that."

and that's when it all made sense, what yunho was trying to tell you. it wasn't okay, it probably never will be, and it never should be. that's what you have to live with, and that's what will ultimately differentiate you from the actual monsters in this world.

"how do i convince myself i'm not the same as them?"

"that's what i'm here for," yunho laughed and you joined, drawing away from him. "but actually... i have a suggestion for you."

and that's how he told you all about mingi, the psychiatrist and the therapist who would never judge you no matter how dark your deepest thoughts and desires were. the person who would be able to understand your situation better than anyone else in this world since he was also a part of what yunho did. and most importantly, the person who wouldn't convince you to be someone you weren't. someone who wouldn't put you high on a pedestal or push you to your lowest. you adored the look on yunho's face when he told you all about his friend and you thought that mingi must be an admirable person if yunho believed in him so much.

and that night, he made a vow to you- he would always be there for you. he would be there to help you with the nightmares because he wished someone was there for him too. he would make sure you get proper sleep, and how couldn't you, if you were in his arms, safe and secure? how couldn't you, if you were showered in kisses before you fell asleep? how couldn't you, if you were enveloped in his scent that felt like home now?

the nightmares wouldn't easily stop but at least you wouldn't feel alone now, and that was all that mattered.

----------------------------

[something romantic but unhinged bc man now that i'm writing guerrilla again i wish i made it even longer LMAO]

[mdni!] [and do not interact if you're not comfortable with dark themes]

"yunho, what if your dark fantasies take over while we're having a moment and you kill me or something?"

yunho almost choked on the last sips of hot chocolate you had made him and he put the cup down on the table before shutting his eyes, inhaling and then opening them to glare at you.

"what stupid book are you reading now, babe?"

you pursed your lips in guilty admission. "you don't need to know that."

it had been a good few months into your relationship with yunho now, and he knew to expect odd questions like these way before that. when you first moved in, the questions had been related to your crime fiction wip but now that you were comfortable with him...

too comfortable, he thought. you couldn't ask something like this while you were seated so casually, defenceless across the couch with your legs in his lap while you used your tablet probably to edit your current draft.

"but do you think it happens? do you have moments like those when you... you know."

"when i what?" yunho smirked. he could play this game.

you immediately knew the mood had changed when his eyes glinted playfully. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer.

"i won't judge you, i promise," you laughed a little. "but do you ever want to? or do you think others do?"

"words. i need you to say it out loud," yunho sat back cockily while his hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it almost suggestively.

and you knew it could only go one way from here. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer-

practically. whenever he could, practically.

"if you're about to see if you feel like killing me right now, no thanks. and for your information, i can fight back."

"can you?" yunho scoffed.

"i've killed two men."

yunho laughed mockingly at that. "two. such a cute number."

your heart sank at that but you tried to lighten the situation. "okay, yeah, i should probably stop reading stupid books-"

"do you want me to check and see, though?" yunho cocked his head dangerously, removing his hand from your thigh only to hold your hand and pull you closer.

"geez, you really take answering my questions so seriously," you teased. of course he would never hurt you, but the thought of where this could lead to excited you in too many ways and you internally slapped yourself. "i guess i'll find the answer if i live to tell the tale?"

yunho pulled you properly in his lap, one hand stationed across your legs to keep you close to him while the other hand stayed on your neck, his thumb caresseing your adam's apple. you loved putting yunho in this headspace, when his gaze darkened as he thought about all the ways he would mess with you.

"do you know how easy it is to take someone's life if you press this wrong?" yunho pushed your adam's apple with his thumb just a fraction. "even just a little pressure can make it difficult to breathe."

you twisted away from him to put your tablet away and then put your own hand on his neck to feel his adam's apple. you pressed it a little just like he had demonstrated and nodded in understanding.

"it's ironic then, isn't it?" yunho looked up at you. "that some of the most sensitive spots on a human are around there?"

before you could ask him to elaborate, he pulled you closer to kiss you on the side of your neck and you gasped when you realised where this was going. he didn't stop there, though, no. he flipped you effortlessly so your back was flat on the couch and he was on top of you. before you could process anything, he was back to peppering kisses along your neck, planting a rather long one right on your adam's apple before finding your sweet spot and continuing to kiss and suck there.

your back arched in pleasure when one of his hands went to hold your waist but found your bare skin instead, your shirt having ridden up. you squirmed under him, one hand at the nape of his neck. when he was satisfied after earning a loud moan from you, he drew back to admire the bruising mark on your neck.

and then he grinned at your breathless form.

"that was so out of the blue," you laughed.

"i'm nowhere near done though," yunho kissed your temple, trailing his lips down along the angles of your face and then kissing your jaw sweetly. you brought your limp arm up to fist his shirt and crash your lips on his because he should stop teasing you already. yunho smiled into the kiss before responding enthusiastically and you tasted chocolate on his lips which made you hum in satisfaction.

yunho took that as his cue to escalate things further. while he kissed you, he let his hand travel down your body until it reached the waistband of your shorts. he broke the kiss to look at you and make sure you were okay and when you nodded, he pulled them down a bit to slide his hand down and he looked at you in surprise.

"you're soaking wet," he laughed a little. "tell me, which part turned you on?"

you slapped his hand and he laughed louder, pecking your lips and drawing away to lock eyes with you just in time to see your reaction when he slid a finger along your slit. he captured your gasp in another kiss and soon, things got all heated up. the sound of your moans were swallowed in his kisses as he slid two fingers knuckle-deep inside you and started thrusting them, curling them inside to earn loud gasps from you.

"so responsive," he praised, trailing kisses down your neck again and finding another spot to suck at. it was good that you mostly stayed at home, you thought. he had a thing with marking you and you could only imagine how much a hassle it would have been to cover it on a daily basis.

"yunho," you gasped when his thumb started circling your clit. it hadn't even been that long that you started getting more physical but he sure knew all your buttons. "please."

"please what?" he breathed against your adam's apple, reminding you once again how this all started.

"i'm so close," you moaned.

"already?" he tsk-ed, kissing the protruding spot on your neck. "how badly do you want it?"

you cupped his face and kissed him in answer, your tongues colliding in the passionate makeout which only sent another wave of arousal through your body and you shivered against him. he knew you were close so he drew apart and made you rest your head against the cushion again.

"you asked me about my dark fantasies, right?" yunho almost whispered and you nodded, anticipating what was next. "not the darkest fantasy, but a good start- choking."

you frowned- choking was pretty common... no?

"there's a very subtle difference in choking for pain and choking for pleasure," yunho explained, his hand around your neck now, his other hand still rubbing your clit in circles, his fingers pumping inside you slowly. "and sure, choking is common, but sweetheart..."

yunho pressed the sides of your throat for a second experimentally and you gasped. "feel that? see how everything you feel inside you becomes heightened but your senses grow numb?"

"yeah," you breathed, squirming under him- you were almost there. "pleasure."

"and if i pressed like this," he said, gently squeezing from the front- so gently that you almost didn't feel anything. "it would be to kill you. how faint is the line between pain and pleasure, y/n?"

you didn't realise when yunho sped up his fingers thrusting inside you but you were almost out of breath now and when he flicked your clit and provided the friction it needed to get over the edge, right when you could feel your orgasm beginning to wash over you, he leaned in to whisper in your ear-

"do you think i have dark fantasies like that?"

and you almost wouldn't have heard him because he pressed the sides of your throat, choking you right as your orgasm washed over you and your vision darkened, your back arching against him. everything was so heightened- yunho on top of you, his fingers inside you, his hand palming your clit, the other hand squeezing your throat like a choker necklace, his lips on your temple in a kiss, his thighs caging you, but the most heightened of all-

his question, the itch in your brain yet to be scratched. it clouded your thoughts as you took deep breaths to recover from the orgasm, as he kissed you everywhere and drew back to clean his fingers with tissues.

"so..." you breathed. "you won't be answering that, will you?"

he only smirked. "answering it would kill all the fun."

[oltammefru]

Civilight Eterna is an incredibly incredibly interesting character, and has so so much going on so I thought I'd share my read on her. First off, Civilight Eterna isn't Theresa. Like, at all. In her dialogue, she repeatedly says she's not Theresa, talks about Theresa as a person distinct from her, and seems uncomfortable when the Doctor treats her as if she is Theresa.

The way I see it, she is actually far more like Kal'tsit and Amiya than she is Theresa. Once you accept that, I think Civilight Eterna becomes an incredibly, incredibly interesting character who provides a large amount of great characterization to Theresa.

The real Theresa is dead and gone and erased forever now, but ironically, if anything, after ep14, the narrative is far more haunted by Theresa than it ever was. For the most part, no one is particularly happy with CE being on the landship as she is: for Kal'tsit, who had finally come to terms with her grief and loss, all CE really does is dredge up all the pain and sorrow and hatred she felt about Theresa's death.

For the Doctor, she is a source of self-doubt and guilt over their past sins.

There's also an interesting contrast between her and the Doctor, as CE spells out, with one of them being an existence entirely of memory, and the other having none at all.

Amiya is mostly ok about her, but even for her, CE a reminder of who and what she has lost. She sees CE and understands and sees her not as Theresa, but as something else, but because of her resemblance to Theresa, she can't help but be reminded that Theresa is gone, and she won't be able to see anything she's done or gone through anymore.

Theresa, herself, is gone for good now, but the shadow of her last deed hangs over them all. CE as a character takes the enormous background presence Theresa has in the narrative and she makes it a lot more personal than it already is. As a character, CE takes the ghost of Theresa that's been haunting the narrative in the background and drags it kicking and screaming into the forefront, forcing the main trio to confront it.

The person most haunted by Theresa is Civilight Eterna herself. She was made with the purpose being a replica or substitute of Theresa, with the memories of Theresa, but she's really not her, and she's in fact quite bothered by such a concept. The impression I get from her files is that her arc as a character (provided they give her continued story content and don't just throw her by the wayside) is mostly about her struggles to find an identity for herself beyond the one she was assigned and was made to be (which very much parallels much of Amiya's struggles throughout the her entire character arc!)

In most of the story, Theresa is framed as this, almost mythical, larger-than-life figure, who you hear of often and her legacy greatly influences everything that unfolds, without actually appearing except in brief glimpses and flashbacks (until the story starts peeling back the curtain on her with Babel.) For someone as existent and present as CE is, there is no way that she could actually live up to the legendary figure that Theresa was, nor does she want to. The mythos surrounding Theresa is so great that just by virtue of being made to be like Theresa, this serves to erase any identity or personhood of her own she might have (once again, parallels with Amiya.)

(This is also somewhat painfully ironic on a meta-level. If you engage with CE's content at all, it spells out the fact that she is very much not Theresa, but just because she was made to resemble her, even the playerbase of the game thinks of and sees her as Theresa!).

The thing that's juiciest about this to me is that the relationship she has with Kal'tsit. Kal'tsit is maybe the one person who can truly empathize with CE and her mode of existence: both were made and instilled with some driving, defining purpose, but wish to carve out an identity of their own; both occupy some messy, intermediate state between humanity and inhumanity; and both struggle with the risk of being subsumed by some ideal or identity far beyond what they could possibly be. But instead, Kal'tsit can't bear to see the sight of CE, she gives her the cold shoulder, and is unwilling to meet her eyes. Even if Kal'tsit does understand that CE isn't really Theresa, she can't help but see her and think of Theresa, and for CE, this is incredibly, incredibly alienating, that the one person who should be able to truly understand her and her struggles to find an identity for herself, sees her more as the person she was made in the image of and could never really be, instead of her own person.

In light of the fact that CE's files state Kal'tsit has been avoiding CE is so fucked actually, especially when you think about this in the context of Lone Trail. Lone Trail takes place over an (in-setting) year after CE shows up, and despite this, she is never been mentioned or referenced at all, even obliquely. Has Kal'tsit just been coping about it for an entire year straight*? Like, here's about how I imagine this goes: The Doctor mentions CE to Kal'tsit exactly once and immediately gets the hint to not do so. They don't get a lecture about this. They don't even get a Kal'tsit Stinkface Talksprite. She just looks, however minutely, a slight bit more tired and sad. And so that's the last time they ever bring it up. And the thing is, CE has the same care and love that Theresa had, and she wants so so desperately for the people Theresa (and by extension her) cares about to be happy. And so if the only thing she can do for Kal'tsit is to remain completely out of Kal'tsit's sight, existence unacknowledged, no matter how much she might want to reach out, no matter how soulcrushing and painful it might be to do so, she would do this and bear all the pain, out of the love she has for Kal'tsit.

The main way we see Theresa characterized before Babel and Ep14 is through the things and people she's left behind: the people who lived because she died, a dream, a photo of her snuck when she wasn't looking (she was looking), a flower garden, a letter, a promise, a girl made to bear the weight of the world and an apology to her. CE is the last thing she leaves behind, her last act, her last sin before she exits the story for good. In particular, I think CE as a character is some really good final characterization for Theresa, one that serves to highlight her character flaws.

As a person, Theresa is sort of messy. I mean this specifically in the sense she is a person who does great and grand things, knowing that there will be consequences (both foreseen and unforeseen), and does them anyway, often leaving a mess in the process for others to pick up. In Warfarin's 2nd operator record: her attitude towards Theresa highlights this well, to her, no matter how noble her ideals and how good her intentions might be, the fact of the matter is that she is starting a civil war who which will get people killed. In this regard, I think her creation of CE fits her character perfectly. What she does in episode 14: finally being able to free the Sarkaz from the shackles of Originium, and making CE as a final act of care to Amiya, fulfilling her promise to Amiya to always be with her, but making a huge mess in the process, serves as a perfect capstone to Theresa as a character. Even though she is now gone, the effects of her last choice and legacy still hang over those who knew her.

*Of course it could also be that they wrote LT at a time where there were no plans to have CE be a character at all, but especially when it comes to things like this, HG does generally write things years ahead of time. The ending of Lone Trail does feel very much like it was written with Babel already in mind, and Vigilo was also clearly written with Babel in mind (see: Memoria specifically) despite being released several years before Babel.

[keruimi]

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

[xveenusx]

You

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.

Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.

Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!

_______________

Angry.

That’s how I felt.

At myself. At my dad. At John B.

When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.

Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.

Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.

It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.

Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.

Until, I didn’t.

It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.

My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.

Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.

JJ.

“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.

I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.

Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.

My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.

_________

I hated this sign.

My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.

It served as another reminder that my brother left me.

I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.

Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.

And then, there was JJ.

JJ was special.

He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.

In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.

I blew out a breath.

Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.

When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.

But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.

What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.

The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.

“You ready?”

Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.

If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.

“I go where you go.”

JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.

“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.

In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.

Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”

My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.

I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.

“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”

“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.

Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.

I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.

You matter.

You matter.

You matter.

But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?

Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.

There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.

I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.

He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.

The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.

JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.

A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.

“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.

I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.

He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.

My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.

His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.

“Do you believe me now?”

JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”

A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”

“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”

My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.

He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.

So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.

JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.

Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.

Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.

Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.

A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.

"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.

A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.

The effect he had on my body left me stunned.

My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.

His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.

His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.

The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.

JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.

He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.

I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.

JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.

He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.

“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”

Stacey Williams had this thing about her.

What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.

That fact alone made me nervous.

Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.

Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.

People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.

“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”

She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.

“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”

My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.

“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”

I winced. That’s all I was to him?

I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”

I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”

Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”

Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.

“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”

The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.

I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.

I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.

But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.

Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.

Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.

Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.

I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.

My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.

Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.

“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.

Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.

JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.

“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said-“

“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”

I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.

“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.

“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”

It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.

My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.

JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.

Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“

“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”

“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”

“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.

A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.

My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.

Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.

When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.

His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.

I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.

“Listen-“

“No thanks.”

“If you would just-“

“Go away.”

“Can you please stop acting-“

“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.

“I dont want to talk to Sta-“

“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“

“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.

My mouth opened and closed in shock.

“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

“Because it’s you.”

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“

“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.

My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.

“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”

I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”

I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.

JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”

“Then leave-“

“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”

My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.

“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”

His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.

“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”

My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.

“But you said-“

“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.

In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.

At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.

Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.

Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.

Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”

Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”

His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”

Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.

“You said I was just some girl.”

JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.

“Good thing I have a truck.”

“But she-“

He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.

“You’re the only one I want.”

JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.

My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.

JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”

The words never crossed my lips.

He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.

His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”

Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.

JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.

My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.

Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.

A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.

White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.

JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.

He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”

______________

I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)

Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe

[animeyanderelover]

How would tobirama,madara,shisui,kakashi,tsunade,and obito react to accidentally hurting the darling?Thank you ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, overprotective behavior

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Accidentally hurting their s/o

Madara Uchiha

🌑​Madara is going to appear rather indifferent at first but his cold exterior is not a representation of what is currently happening in his mind. He's ashamed of himself and his lack of self-control which makes this mistake all the more aggravating for him. If he would have been still a child, this might have been excused but he is a grown man who is the head of his clan. As intimidating and occasionally tormenting as the Uchiha can be, he would never harm his beloved unless they have displeased or angered him so the lack of control over whatever has ultimately led to your pain is going to leave a sour taste on his tongue. His pride is a mountain hard to overcome though so initially he just tells you rather coldly that your injury isn't that bad, leaving you only moments later since he needs time for himself. He has medics catering to your pain though even if your wound is nothing serious, contracting his previous words as he still cares. Words have never been his strong point and partially he believes them to serve nothing anyways but he expresses his apology rather through physical gifts and gestures.

Tobirama Senju

🌊​Tobirama normally manages to keep up a harsh facade even under difficult circumstances yet few things are heavier than realising that he let his own emotions besting him and hurting you physically. Frustration and hot shame curl themselves around his body and for the first time he has no snarky comback or ruthless comment, only speechless with how low this obsession has brought him. He insists on catering to your pain himself even if there is no real need for it, a sliver of desperation visible in his eyes as he asks of you to let him take a look. After he has ensured your well-being, he silently storms out of the house to clear his own mind and to reflect on himself. His pride is rather big yet he is humble enough that this is his own fault and he has lost grasp of his own emotions. He returns back to you after a few hours and actually apologises to you, a sight so rare that it almost spooks you out initially. The guilt lingers for the next few days, the shame that he actually hurt his own spouse because he couldn't control himself a shame too big to simply shake off and forget about. It shall serve as a reminder to him to learn how to tame his obsession better.

Tsunade Senju

🐌​A woman who possesses the strength to shatter mountains has a heart that is perhaps even more fragile than porcelain. Tsunade has already lost the two people who meant the world to her and that trauma feeds her overprotective paranoia when it comes to you. She will take it pretty badly, that is after the initial shock wears down that has numbed her for a good few moments after it has happened. There are tears in her eyes as she looks at you and sees the pain on your face. Pain that she has inflicted on you. Tsunade feels sick to her very core even if there is no blood involved. She is a medic. She is supposed to heal people and help them with the pain yet she is the one who has caused yours. To alleviate the heavy anguish she feels after she has managed to pull through enough to heal your own pain with her abilities, she resorts to sake. She just drinks and drinks and drinks until she falls asleep but even in her drunken state that moment haunts her and with her emotions more vulnerable than ever, she starts crying even in her sleep. Her guilt only adds to her overbearing obsession though as it will never let her forget that she is the one who harmed you.

Kakashi Hatake

📖​If you have ever wondered what the raw obsession hidden beneath that lackluster attitude of his looks like, you get a peak of it when Kakashi hurts you. The moment he fully processes what has just happened, it is already too late and as he looks at your shocked face and the blood that escapes the mild injury, memories flash before his eyes and trigger something visceral out of him. He breaks out in cold sweat and feels the dreadful vice-grip of fear tackling his heart as his chest is heaving with an unknown weight. He feels frozen as if any slight movement from his body would shatter him as his eyes are glued to the injury and it is only because of your interference that he finally snaps out of his paralysed anxiety. For a few moments he just stares at you with wet eyes before he finally gains the ability to move and do something again. There is a slight tremor in his hands as he cleans and bandages your injury, watching the spot for a while as if fearing that blood will stain the material at any moment before he finally lets a burdened sigh out that lifts the weight on his chest at least partially. For the rest of the day he is dedicated to hugging you all of the time, although his touches are light.

Obito Uchiha

🔥​Obito handles it without a doubt the worst. The whole reason why he has taken it so far with his obsession was precisely because he wanted to protect you from any mental and physical pain this world would undoubtedly inflict upon you. Yet now the very world he has grown to despise so much has decided to torment him by letting him be the one who is the cause of your pain, as fleeting as it may be. Obito panicks most likely more than you do as even you reassure him that the injury isn't as bad as he may think. The only thing spinning around in his mind is the fact that he is the one who hurt you as he feels like the world he has been trying to change for years has now even stained him. His anger sparks a swirling inferno inside of him yet he has no one to vent out against as the culprit is he himself this time. He might turn for a good while deranged enough to offer that he will injure himself much worse as a warped way of repenting for what he has done for you unless you stop him. Otherwise he finds himself clinging to you much more as your presence seems to be the only thing containing his obsession from exploding which would lead him to do something really horrendous.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂​Whether you treat it as anything big or not, Shisui will see it as a severe slipup from his side. The Uchiha has always considered his obsession as something he would have to control strictly as he had always possessed the awareness of just how quickly his feelings could spiral into bottomless darkness. For those black feelings to not only make him lose his prized control for a moment but also to accidentally harm you is a deep-rooted disappointment solely pointed against himself that he will never forgive himself for. He keeps his facial expression neutral as he does what he can do to soothe your pain before he leaves, barely able to hold eye contact with you. That doesn't mean that he neglects keeping an eye on you as he just stalks you for the rest of the day, his gaze sharper as he tries to detect how much this incident has affected you. Shisui will apologise to you the next day though and take all the blame himself, silently bemoaning that he allowed his feelings to escalate that much. There is some distance he purposefully creates as he deems it to be necessary for him to work more on himself to never let something like this happen again, although he never stops keeping tabs on you.