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flowerandblood · 4 months ago

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The Price of Pride (8/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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"You are pathetic, like all your kin. Thank the gods you don't make me warm your bed, but your child asks about you and I don't know what to answer. That her father would rather spend time with whores in King's Landing than with his own daughter?" She heard her mother's hiss as if from afar, seeing darkness all around her, recognising in the vague outline of objects that she was standing in the corridor, by the door of her chamber.

How old could she have been then?

Had it really happened, or was it just a dream?

For some reason, her head hurt a lot.

"The Red Keep is no place for a little girl. Should I take her there to watch the lords around my brother fucking kill each other for power, let them marry her off to the first better rich old fool?"

"Would you rather she live without a father? Will you flee from that duty too?"

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued, which after a while was broken by the bitter, disappointed voice of her father.

"She resembles you too much."

She opened her eyes, feeling that the light was blinding her. She muttered, twisting on the soft bed, hearing someone's conversation fall silent a moment later.

"My Lady?"

She glanced sideways at the figure of the Maester leaning over her, his hand touching her head.

"Thank the gods, the fever has subsided. How do you feel?"

She swallowed hard, trying to remember what had happened and where she was, confused and frightened, feeling like her skull was about to explode from the pain.

And then she remembered.

His full lips pressed against hers, his hand between her thighs.

And a dim memory of what followed, the blow and her fall, his voice in the darkness, his hot breath on her face, the outline of his jaw in the candlelight, his sticky, hot kiss.

Sleep, little sister.

Your brother will stay by your side.

She sighed, tired and resigned, recognising that this was surely just a dream, her desire for someone to be there for her, to care and look after her.

She wondered if Lady Floris felt satisfaction now.

She knew she had partially earned it – despite knowing her cousin was betrothed, she did not push him away when his lips pressed against hers and his hand went under the fabric of her robe.

She acknowledged with surprise that she did not resent her.

"My head hurts a lot." She confessed at last, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

The Maester nodded in understanding, handing her some herbal infusion in a cup.

"Drink this, my Lady. It will soothe the pain. You should spend the day resting." He said.

They both shuddered as the door to her chamber opened: her cousin stepped inside dressed in an emerald tunic, his hair slightly damp, as if he had just taken a bath, tied back with a black ribbon.

"Leave us alone." He ordered, looking at her calmly with a gaze from which, for some reason, her heart beat harder.

"Your Highness." Said the Maester and bowed, disappearing after a moment behind the door.

Prince Aemond approached her lazily and surprised her as he sat on the bed beside her, leaning towards her, his hand touching her forehead as if he was checking something.

"Throughout the night, your body burned with fever. Thankfully, it's waned." He murmured, saying it more to himself than to her, sliding his fingers down her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

She felt a pleasant warmth in her lower abdomen as she realised that what she felt was not a dream.

He had really stayed with her.

She swallowed quietly, unable to look away from his gaze, her hand involuntarily touching his wrist.

"Will your betrothed forgive you?" She mumbled out, the guilt she felt like a needle stuck in her heart.

She didn't know this girl, but she had taken something from her.

She blinked as her cousin grinned broadly, a glint of madness in his gaze from which her heart pounded harder in her chest, the space between her thighs pulsed greedily around nothing.

"She is no longer my concern." He whispered, forming the letter o out of his mouth as if he were mocking, amused by the situation.

She looked at him for a moment and shook her head, not understanding what he was trying to say.

"What do you mean?"

"I have broken our betrothal. Just moments ago, at a meeting of the Small Council, I introduced to the assembled guard who was assigned to you, and whom Floris dismissed. No one else walked down the corridor, as they would have been spotted by the other guards. Her jealousy was a danger to the Crown. What if she thought she should also attack my sister, Helaena, fearing that I might also cohabit with her? My brother agreed with me that she could not remain in the Red Keep and left it at dawn today." He hummed, clearly pleased with himself, trailing his fingertips along her neck – his words made her eyes widen in disbelief.

He had simply sent her away.

Had this been his plan all along?

Had he kissed her then, in the library, hoping Floris would see it and do something ill-considered?

She didn't know why she felt an unpleasant stab of disappointment and regret, her eyebrows arching in sadness as she lowered her eyes, trying not to cry.

"What's that look? Hm?" He asked, catching her gently by the chin, lifting her face towards him so that she looked at him again.

"I admire how thoughtful everything you do is. Every step, every detail. Every gesture and sound." She whispered, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her throat, fighting not to show him weakness.

"You think I planned this." He concluded, cocking his head to the side. "I wish I had. But you must believe me, dōna hāedar, that it was merely a matter of coincidence."

Dōna hāedar.

Sweet little sister.

"Lord Baratheon will not leave it like that. He will break the alliance." She whispered, and he snorted, leaning towards her, sinking his hand into her hair.

"So I'll take Vhagar and explain the situation to him. Mmm, I could take you with me – you would present to him the injustice that has befallen you at the hands of his daughter, and then you would warm my bed in one of the chambers in Storm's End." He said lightly, as if he thought that, indeed, this was a great plan with a guarantee of success.

"You would force him to listen to what you are doing to me." She sighed as she felt his thumb run over her lips, parting them, sinking his finger into their fleshy, moist structure.

She shuddered as his hand slid down to the material of her nightgown, untying it, a moan of surprise stuck in her throat as he spread it open, exposing her bare breasts.

"– I am a free man now, hāedar –" He gasped, leaning lower – her hands clenched into fists on either side of her head as the tip of his pink, wet tongue ran lazily over her hard, puffy nipple. "– and as your big brother, I have precedence in your bed –"

She threw her head back with an innocent, girlish moan as his lips clamped around her nipple, sucking on it gently as if he were a baby – her hands in some involuntary reflex entwined in his long white hair, pressing his face against her breast, feeling the shudders and pulsations surging through her cunt each time his tongue rolled around the sensitive spot.

"– ah –" She gasped, involuntarily rocking her hips, feeling this kind of sensation for the first time in her life – she didn't understand what purpose it was supposed to serve and she felt exposed, but on the other hand what he was doing was wonderfully pleasurable and exciting, her body responding to his caresses eagerly.

She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back her smile of satisfaction when his hand, clenched earlier on her breast, slid down her stomach lower, pulling impatiently at the material of her nightgown, searching blindly for the warmth between her thighs.

They both moaned, and her fingers pressed his face tighter to her body as his fingertips dug into her dripping folds, swollen with desire – her legs bent at the knees spread involuntarily, shamelessly asking for more.

He released her breast from between his lust-swollen lips and looked at her as if he had completely lost his mind, his gaze dark and shining as he lay down next to her on his side, guiding her hand to the twitching bulge in his breeches exactly as he had the evening before.

She didn't know why she was so willing, why when his forehead pressed against hers and their lips found each other in a passionate, loud kiss, filled with their sigh of delight, her fingers undid the buckles of his tunic and untied the material of his breeches, reaching fearlessly for what lay beneath them.

He closed his eyes and sighed, his body shuddering as he felt the gentle touch of her smooth hand on his erection, hot with desire, throbbing all over under her fingers. His free hand in some subconscious, helpless reflex sank into her hair, his lips melting with hers in a sweet caress seemed to seek reassurance that this would remain their secret.

The tips of their tongues licked against each other with their grunts of delight as his hand sunk into her leaking, silky cunt, circling around her small, delicate pearl while hers trailed over his throbbing manhood, teasing it.

He was hard as a rock.

"– squeeze it –" He breathed out into her mouth between one click of their wet lips and the next, taking his hand from between her thighs for a moment, clearly wanting to show her what he meant.

She opened her eyelids with difficulty, dulled by the sensations and his slick tongue sliding between their kisses down her throat, peering curiously at what she was touching. He stopped the caress for a moment, their faces pressed together, their gazes directed downwards.

"– here – right here – just like that, all the way to the top –" He whispered in a voice trembling with desire.

A quiet, helpless groan broke from his lips, enveloping her in the warmth of his breath as she obeyed him, clasping her fingers at the very base of his long, pink cock, squeezing it to the very tip of it, thick and smooth, dripping with his own wetness.

"– how is it possible for something like this to fit inside a woman? –" She mumbled and heard him smile, his hand returned back between her thighs, running warningly over her leaking slit.

"– I'll show it to you myself – one day –" He murmured, his lower lip running over hers in a gesture inviting her to another kiss, which she accepted with unprecedented eagerness, letting his hand sink into her hair to pull her closer, refusing to let her escape his starved mouth.

"– harder –" He demanded in a voice hoarse with desire between their loud, passionate kisses, and she smiled involuntarily under her breath – her hand, in accordance with his desire, clamped tighter on his root, causing him to let out a surprised, boyish moan from his throat.

Her heart fluttered harder in her chest at the thought that she didn't know he was capable of making such sounds.

So innocent.

Now, in this moment, he was helpless, vulnerable to hurt.

He craved.

And she couldn't waste this chance.

The space between her thighs was delighted with her plan, feeling his fingers circling around her swollen bud with cruel precision, their breaths heavy as their tips pushed against her entrance, opening her on their thickness.

"– lēkia –" She breathed out, a startled, sweet moan of euphoria bursting from her lips directly into his throat as his fingers forced their way deep inside her, only to slide out and repeat it all over again.

He sighed as she squeezed his swollen erection tighter in response – their hands found a shared rhythm, their hips rolling back and forth at the same time, their lips melting into hot kisses filled with excitement and impatience.

"– don't stop – mmm –" He purred into her lips, panting hard along with her, shivers of wondrous delight shaking her body again and again each time his fingertips hit the sweet spot deep inside her, from which she felt the tickle in her lips and nipples.

"– I – o-oh, gods –" She whimpered, feeling her inevitable peak approaching, his hand from her hair slid lower to her breasts, clamping down on it as if he himself was trying to hold back the inevitable.

"– go on – come on my fingers –" He exhaled, and those words were enough to make her body shake with a sweet shudder, from which a startled, innocent moan escaped her throat – she felt his fingers stop moving inside her, wanting only to feel her fleshy walls pulsing around their length, sucking them inside her.

"– hāedar –" He whispered and gasped all over with a sigh of relief when, after her next sure squeeze, his pearly, sticky release spilled over the snow-white material of her nightgown.

They lay like this, panting heavily, welted and sweaty with emotion, pressing their foreheads against each other, his hand lingering on her bare breast and deep inside her womanhood while her fingers stroked gently his throbbing, quivering manhood.

Despite what they had done, and that it was certainly a sin, there was also something innocent about it – their desires were pure and sincere, devoid of subtext, seeking only the release of tension, closeness and security.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his gaze was fixed on her chest, his lips slightly parted in a deep, uneven breath.

She thought he longed to do what he had always done with his lover – to sink his face between her plump breasts and allow himself to be embraced by her – but he knew that she knew his secret and that if he did so, he would expose himself to ridicule and confirm his brother's words.

She lifted her free hand and gently placed it on his, inviting him to sink his fingertips deeper into the soft structure of her bosom – he sighed when he looked at her, as if he didn't know what he thought of it himself, and after a moment he leaned down and nestled his face into the crook of her neck.

His hand remained on her breast – encourage by her gesture, he played with it between his fingers as her arms embraced and cuddled him into her, and he didn't push her away or say a word.

Looking down at her fingers sticky with his spend, her other hand combing lazily through his long white hair, she thought she had tamed not one dragon, but two.

They were both silent – there was something safe about that. It seemed to her that they both knew that whoever spoke first would show weakness – not of flesh but of character – and neither of them could afford to do so.

Desire was like thirst or hunger, obvious and needing no explanation, indicative of nothing more in fact it was.

It didn't need feelings.

"Criston Cole is gathering our army. He and my uncle will soon march for Harrenhal." He hummed, enveloping her neck with his warm breath, his hands closed over her breasts and her womanhood moved, stroking both places, making her shiver.

He shared his knowledge with her because he was proud of himself and felt a sense of satisfaction – he sought confirmation of his genius, her praise and understanding, her gaze of admiration that he so desperately desired.

Or was it a test?

Was he telling her this because he wanted to see if she contacted her father?

They both shifted position, lying on their sides, looking straight into each other's eyes – there was something in his gaze and grin that filled her with anxiety.

"Daemon is expecting our answer. What he doesn't know, however, is that Cole will actually head off to a different location."

She blinked, looking at him confused.

"Why?" She asked and sighed as he gently took her hand in his, looking at her in simultaneous concentration and excitement, as if he was delighted that she had asked about it.

She thought in disbelief that he was acting like a little boy.

He confided in her.

"– your smooth hand is Dragonstone –" He said, placing her hand on the bed and pointed with a circular motion of his finger to the sheet around it. "– all around it is the sea –"

"– this –" He murmured, his other hand sinking lazily into the skin of her exposed, bare breast, making her involuntarily clench her thighs. "– is King's Landing – and this –"

He whispered, slowly running his knuckles down her smooth stomach, a quiet sigh escaped her lips as his fingertips sank gently into the fleshy, moist folds of her soft womanhood.

"– this, dōna hāedar, is Harrenhal – everyone desires it, for it is the fortress that opens the way to the North – moreover, it is currently besieged by your father –" He gasped, teasing her throbbing slit with his fingers, causing her lips to part in a ragged breath, feeling the pleasant tingle of pleasure run down her spine.

She felt with shame that her nipples had hardened, pointy and sensitive, her little cunt all swollen from the waves of tickling ecstasy into which his words and touch had brought her.

"– this –" He continued, sliding his fingers, wet with her moisture up her thigh and knee. "– this is Winterfell – and with it the whole of the North –"

"– however, there is another important, inconspicuous place –" He said contentedly, returning his hands to her palm, his fingers running over her wrist. "– here is Rook's Rest – a small fortress that allows my sister-whore to cross to the continent – however, if you cut it off –"

He said and made a movement with the side of his hand across her wrist, as if he were cutting it off with a dagger.

Her heart thumped harder in her chest as she suddenly comprehended.

"– you want to cut her off from the land –" She muttered and he hummed, cocking his head, his lips curved in expression as if her words gave him satisfaction and tickled his ego.

"– does your brother know about this? –" She asked, and his expression changed – his jaw clenched in displeasure, his iris turned black, his brow straightened.

Her question frustrated him and destroyed his pleasant vision, she thought as he took his hands from her warm body.

"– Aegon did not devote his life to the art of war or the complexities of warfare – he preferred to drink and play with his whores –" He said with a wide smile that, if it were not for the look in his eyes, she might have considered joyful.

She knew, however, that he was furious.

She raised herself up on her elbows, letting the material of her nightgown slide even lower, exposing her shoulders and stomach.

"– don't do it – tell him –" She muttered, and he stood up, infuriated, and immediately tied the material of his breeches, displeased with the direction this discussion had taken.

"– I don't recall asking you for your opinion – it was a mistake to introduce a woman into these complicated, masculine matters –" He said coldly in a tone that suggested that one more ill-chosen word on her part and he would lose patience despite everything that had happened between them.

She, however, knew that what he was doing would sooner or later lead to a catastrophe of which she too would become a victim.

She had no intention of dying because of his pride.

"– your brother sees you as a threat – he is disturbed by your behaviour and is tense in your presence –" She said, looking at him pleadingly.

He, to her surprise snorted and laughed, looking down at her, a wide grin on his face.

"– he's afraid of me –" He said in a way as if it was his great achievement for which she should praise and kiss him.

She shook her head feeling that her face expressed terror.

"– yes, he's afraid of you – and that's not good information neither for you nor for me – gods, you can't let him stop trusting you – you're balancing on a thin line and forgetting that it doesn't matter if he fits the role or not, he's the King –" She said in a breaking voice, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

He stood over her with his lips slightly parted, breathing loudly, as if he was boiling inside, not knowing what to make of her words.

His gaze fled lower for a moment, to her breasts, as if her bared flesh and the memory of the pleasure they had given each other distracted him, and then back to her face.

He was silent.

He hesitated.

This was her chance.

"– I beg you to tell him – in the solitude of the chamber, so that no words are said in public – so that he cannot accuse you of plotting behind his back –" She whispered, shifting towards him on her hands, settling herself finally in front of him on her knees, looking up at him pleadingly.

He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists, as if struggling to restrain himself from touching her – her gaze fled down to the material of his breeches, under which his manhood pulsed.

"– this fool will demand Harrenhal – he won't understand – he wants great fortresses and great victories, not realising that war is composed of cunning and guile –" He said quietly, looking her straight in the face, his lips parted as if he was thirsty and she was a fleshy, wet fruit.

"– so let's convince him together – I know how to speak to him – he enjoys me and my honesty – he'll feel he's making important decisions, even though they've long since been made for him –" She said, breathing hard as he did, feeling how much she was risking by conversing with him so directly.

She saw something sinister flash in his eye, his tongue running over his lower lip.

"– do you let him touch you? –"

She blinked and snorted in disbelief, shaking her head as if she wasn't sure if he had really asked about it.

"– no – his tongue doesn't burst in between my lips and his hand doesn't seek the heat between my thighs –" She said and they both fell silent, panting quietly, as if something in her words aroused both her and him.

They shuddered and pulled away from each other as they heard someone's footsteps outside the door – her hands immediately covered her shoulders and breasts with her nightgown, while he quickly buckled his tunic.

When a quiet knock sounded she glanced at him and only spoke up when he looked as if nothing had happened between them.

She thought with amusement that because of their elation, his hair didn't look as perfect as usual.

"Come." She called out, and a servant came in with a tray, saying that she had brought the morning meal for her as prescribed by the Maester.

Her cousin left without a word, letting her eat in peace, and she exhaled heavily, spreading a piece of bread with berry confiture, thinking she was treading on thin ice.

She was neither his lover, nor his sister, nor his servant, but a chaos of his desires and needs.

Gods, have mercy on me, she thought.

To her surprise, as she was being examined by the Maester, who was looking at a large lump on her head, the King walked into her room.

Aegon seemed pleased that she was alive and looked healthy.

"– ah, you're awake, cousin – great news – Baratheon's whore is on her way back to her home – my brother never liked to have his toys destroyed – and I will not allow any of my family to be harmed in this fortress again –" He said lightly, walking over to the table, taking one of the jars that contained the herbs brought by the medics – he shook it, raised his eyebrows in disapproval and set it down.

She did not reply, deciding that silence in such a situation was safer.

"– he was never able to hide his jealousy or his displeasure, you know – he was forever walking around with his mouth curved in disgust, proud and vain, with his nose in his big books, as if they would make his other eye grow back –" He muttered, pacing around her bed, looking around the room.

"– you're a dragon rider and my cousin, and he gave you such a small chamber – it's inappropriate – I'll assign you another, better one, with a view of the sea – Lady Floris slept in it before, but I think she won't haunt you in your dreams – you'll be content –" He said, looking at her, and she nodded and smiled involuntarily.

"– that's it – that's the spirit – I like it – you should see Sunfyre – have you ever been in Dragon's Pit? –" He asked, as if hundreds of thoughts were going through his mind at once, and he was unable to focus on any.

"– no, my King –" She replied softly and hissed as the Maester touched a spot on the back of her head that was all sore and swollen.

"– forgive me, my Lady –" He whispered, and she nodded.

Aegon didn't seem to see this and simply went on.

"– we will travel there this afternoon, by carriage, so as not to strain you –" He said and seeing that the Maester wanted to state with certainty that this was not a good idea he raised his hand in the air, showing him not to interrupt mid-sentence. "– the fresh air will certainly do her good, and we won't spend much time there –"

Whether she wanted to or not, she had to go.

She didn't do so reluctantly, though, for indeed, she wanted to see the other dragons and the great cave they lived in.

However, as soon as the carriage doors closed behind them she realised what the true purpose of this journey was.

"I want Daemon to answer for the death of my son and I need you to help me convince my brother that I should set off to fight with him. He doesn't agree and every time he does it, he humiliates me in the eyes of the Small Council." He said with regret and frustration, from which she swallowed hard.

Oh gods.

She looked down at her hands, feeling the panic rising within her, standing between them as if between two walls that were moving closer and closer, finally colliding with each other and crushing her at the same time.

"The King must remain in King's Landing. Without you there is no point in all this." She said, looking at him expectantly.

She clenched her hands on her knees when she saw that his jaw clamped shut in rage, his eyes red from tears as his fist hit the carriage wall with all its force.

"– he's my son – you don't understand it – you're not a mother – my children are my biggest pride – they are sweet, good and kind, and now – now my son is locked in a cold stone sarcophagus underground and he's probably scared –" He mumbled out, burying his face in his hands, as if he believed that a decapitated child could wake up.

Despite the absurdity of his words, her throat tightened in sympathy, tears of sadness gathered under her eyelids as she looked at his huddled, distraught figure.

"– he's not suffering anymore – he's in a place where no one can hurt him again –" She muttered, and he sobbed loudly, as if he was only now allowing himself to truly grieve.

She swallowed hard when he reached out his arm to her, placing his elbow on his knee.

"– can you hold my hand? –" He gasped, choking on his own tears, and she felt a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Her hand grasped his, and his fingers tightened on hers as he cried and cried and cried.

Some part of her felt the need to embrace him and comfort him, she feared, however, that he might take this as an invitation to something else, something she did not want.

She didn't desire him that way, and his brother's fury would be immense.

So she held his hand in hers until they reached Dragon's Pit.

Sunfyre looked like a dragon straight out of fairy tales told to children – slender, long, shining as if he were made of pure gold he looked proud and towering. She smiled when she saw that the beast had pressed its head against its master's chest, and Aegon kissed its scales as if his dragon was also his child.

Something moved her at that sight, at his genuine joy and laughter.

She realised with horror that his younger brother had never smiled.

Not really.

The journey back to the Red Keep passed as she listened to his stories about their father.

"My father, and your uncle mostly forgot about having more than one child. The fucking cunt of Dragonstone was his favourite. His heiress to the throne even though he had a first-born son, for whom, after all, he had opened the womb of his first, beloved wife. Apparently he did so against her pleas, and her cries were heard throughout the fortress. And yet, my mother and my grandfather say that I should follow his example. That he was a wonderful, merciful king." He said, looking at her with a smile full of amusement, however, there was something else in his gaze: pain and fatigue.

He had not slept well for many months and only found comfort in wine.

"And your sister-wife? What is she like?" She asked, though she did not know why.

Aegon fell silent and the amusement disappeared from his face – he stared blankly out of the carriage window for a moment, as if musing.

"Her person is an eternal mystery to me. I don't usually understand what she says. But she is gentle and kind. She does not humiliate me, although she, of all our family, has the most reason to despise me." He said finally.

She swallowed silently, thinking that there was something childlike and innocent in his words, sincere and helpless, a cry of despair and a plea for help that no one answered.

She wondered if he and his brother knew how much alike they were.

She wanted to say it and had it on the tip of her tongue, but after a moment she realised that her cousin would kill her if he found out that she had described his weaknesses to his brother.

She had to balance the two of them so that they both loved her.

In some way.

When they returned to the fortress she immediately headed to her chamber, dreaming only of a warm bath.

As she stepped into her small room she reached into the back of her gown, grabbing the ties of her bodice, and opened her mouth, wanting to call out to a servant to help her.

"Where have you been?"

She looked back, terrified, clutching at the heart that had stopped in her throat hearing his cold voice – she saw his silhouette sitting on one of the chairs like a statue, his face stony and blank, his gaze dark.

Exactly as it had been when she had first seen him.

"With the King." She replied truthfully, reaching her fingers trembling with anxiety into the back of her gown again, pulling at the thin, bright ribbon, causing the whole dress to loosen.

She saw his lips tighten in fury, his nostrils twitching in a deep breath as if he was trying to control himself and not lash out at her.

"For what reason?" He asked further, tilting his head in curiosity, his wide grin indicating that he was on the verge of exploding.

"He wanted to show me Dragon's Pit and Sunfyre." She said without lowering her gaze, knowing that she could not show him fear.

She jumped up and took a step back, terrified when he suddenly burst from his chair with such fury that she only had time to snort for air and he was already at her side, grabbing her aggressively at the waist, slamming her body against the bedpost.

She sighed, resisting him passively as his free hand lifted the material of her skirt with a sharp movement, her hand gripped his wrist as his fingers sank into her womanhood and pushed against her slit, causing her discomfort and pain.

"– no – it hurts when I'm not prepared –" She exhaled, looking him straight in the eye.

They both breathed hard as something like satisfaction flashed across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk full of contentment at the realisation that she wasn't wet.

That she didn't desire his brother.

He took his hand away and let her go, taking a step back and looking at her for a moment in silence.

"Mmm. I have come to you with another matter. From now on, our lessons will be held in my chamber. I wish to ensure that no one will…disturb us." He hummed softly, suddenly completely calm and pleased, the fingers of his hands rubbing against each other as if he was excited by the vision.

She sighed quietly, leaning the back of her head against the wooden column, feeling her cunt pulsate all over at the subtext she heard clearly in his words.

"So that no one disturbs my education, as I understand it?" She asked quietly, his gaze fixed on her hot and filled with something combining lust and madness.

"Indeed. What I wish to teach you requires much concentration and the privacy of the chamber." He said, and she felt her lips part wide in a thirsty sigh.

The corner of her cousin's mouth twitched in a grin, as if he remembered something, and then he moved towards the door, glancing at her over his shoulder with an expression from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Wear the same robe as the last time. And let your hair down."

505 notes · View notes

im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog · 6 days ago

Text

Jason Todd NSFW A-Z

Warnings 18+:

Adult language and themes

*sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar errors

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason would hold you, grip firm, but comforting, almost as if grounding himself in this moment. He would mummer to you in that rough Bowery accent. “Fucking shit, hon..” while kissing your neck. It takes a little for him to clean up and to let you do the same (he's very lazy at this point), but when he does, he spoils you. He runs you a warm bath and brings you your favorite snack, along with the softest pjs ever. The best part is the deep tissue massage he gives you to release the rest of that tension they may linger. “I said I would get all of the knots out, didn’t I?”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jason really doesn’t have a favorite part of his own body. His hands maybe. They can bring on destruction, but also build and mend things he thought he was only capable of destroying. He loves using them to squeeze your thighs. That’s his favorite part, if he had to choose. He loves all of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I fully believe he's into facials and cumming in your mouth. Something about holding your face with one hand, thumb and index finger squishing your cheeks as he rubs his leaking cock against your lips, glossing them with precum. When he cums, his smacking your face with it. Extra points if you stick out your tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secret recordings and photos. He gets off on rewatching the filthy things he does to you. He’s not much of a porn guy, since he only wants you. Other people don’t really interest him in that aspect. So, when he goes on those long missions and can’t see you for a while, he has something to keep him motivated.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few partners, but nothing really special. Not like you. Just basic sex after he came back from the pit, but his body was still settling in itself. Growing pains and all that he had to endure all at once. He has the know-how and some top tier equipment, so what he lacks in experience he makes up in that. Either way, you're a soaking mess when he’s done. The longer you're with him, the better and better it gets

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Hands down, He loves watching your pussy take his full length to the base “You like that? Get that ass up. You can take it” . He also enjoys cowgirl when you both in the mood, but doesn’t wanna move around too much. Perfect for those sore post patrol nights and he wants to get you off.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Neither goofy or serious. A complete bastard. Jason gets that shit eating grin on his face when he’s slamming into you and you making you whimper in pleasure. “All that talk and you can barely take it.” He chuckles. “And you think I was gonna let you off easy?”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Definitely trimmed. He doesn’t really care as long as it's neat down there. Dark trail of hair. Not really much to say.

Always clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kind of a prick. Jason is naturally an aggressive guy, so I can’t really see him being gentle in bed unless you ask him to. He won’t hurt you in anyway, but he fucks in the mattress until you’re unable to walk properly.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not really into it. Jason would rather wait to have the real thing than bore himself with a porno. Why waste time with that? However mutual masturbation can get him going. Intense making out while he jerks off and you touch yourself drives him feral. “Those goddamn noises you make, doll. Gonna make me lose my shit”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie. Especially his color. Lace makes him rock hard. He likes to choke you too. Pull your hair. His major kink is definitely edging..teasing and teasing..and teasing some more until he feels like letting you cum. “Too much? Look at you. You’re squirming and soak already. I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Home. Anywhere in his apartment is game. He has security measures up the ass there and I don’t see him being a public sex kinda man. Too many risks. The exception is the Batcave.. he’ll hack the security there, fuck you on the training mat and then leave your assprint on the hood of the Batmobile. Wouldn’t even bother deleting the footage either. This asshole would make eye contact with the camera and flip it off on the way out.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Arguments with you get him going. Especially when it's really heated. He’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. “Babe, curb the ‘tude before I fuck it out of ya” In contrast, his desire is also awakened when you're...just....talking. Your voice puts him in a state. “Just keep talking, please..” He breathes as he palms himself. Stress relief after patrol is another motivator. He’ll wash up the blood and carry you to the bed. “I need you like crazy, c’mere”

*Bonus. Not really a turn on...but he’ll demolish you out of jealousy. Say, if he felt like someone like Dick was trying something (Dick would never but Jason can be a delusional baby sometimes, let’s face it). It's a self-esteem thing for him. “Everyone wants the pretty golden boy. What, don’t I fuck you good enough.” Oh, he certainly does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Consent is key. Jason Todd is a mean prick during sex and can sometimes get carried away, but the moment you show the slightest display of unwillingness in your eyes, he’ll stop immediately. He’ll go soft and it may take a while to get him hard again. He could never hurt you and if ever accidently did, he wouldn’t forgive himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving as much as receiving. Jason will eat you out like he's starving, your legs pushed up and everything. He’ll make you scream his name as he traces it with his tongue. “Hold still and stop squirming, will you? I’m trying to fuckin’eat.” Then when he's leaning back against the couch, muscular arms resting up and you're on your knees on the floor in front of him, he’ll forgive you a little if you can’t go down all the day. “Too big? Poor you” He’ll coo almost mockingly. I don’t really feel choking my pretty girl out. Take a deep breath and take it slow” The sounds that come out of him though? Goddamn.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Normally rough and medium paced. Not fast or slow. He’s not gentle. I don't care what anyone says. When I say he’ll fuck you into oblivion, I mean it. That doesn’t translate that he doesn't enjoy slow and sensual love making, he does. It's just that sex is a stress reliever for him, so he wants to release it as much as possible. “You can take it, huh? Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. I can always fuck you harder, you know”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Jason likes to take his time. He would only want a quickie if he was on patrol and its quiet. He’ll sneak into your window. And after briefly scolding (lovingly) you for your cheap ass, shit locks. He’ll fuck you into the mattress, leaving a puddle. Then he’ll kiss you as he’s leaving before getting caught by Bruce.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I feel like he's pretty open. I think the one main thing he wouldn't do would be those gas station enhancement pills or things like ecstasy etc.. After his mom and being on the streets, he’s not really eager to put anything like that in his body. Also, anything that could cause harm or injury. I really don’t see him being into thing like gunplay, even if you are. “These are for work, not play, baby girl. Though I like your enthusiasm, let's keep those separate.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Nonstop. The Lazarus pit gave him an endurance boost. An extra perk if you will. Useful for knocking out his enemies and for going round after round in more ways than one. He can last as long as he wants. “Don’t tap out now, love. I’m only getting started.”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I have a personal fantasy of using a vibrating cock ring on Jason. He would like that cause it gives both you and him pleasure. His cock would be twitching like hell. Make him stutter his words. “Fuck..you’re killing me..and I’ve been dead. Keep this on me and it might actually do the job this time.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bastard. That is all.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jason is a breathy swearer. This man cusses a lot when shit gets hot and heavy. No surprise there. “Fuck..fuck..just like that. Fuck yes. Such a good fucking girl. Make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t watch porn to get off. He watches them for the corny plots and laughs at them. You’ll catch him and you think he would have his hand down his pants. Nope. He’s eating chips and laughing.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Under his black Under Armor boxers, the man is packing. Long and a little thick with that vein that runs on the underside. Eye candy when he’s in sweatpants. “Keep staring with you mouth open like that and I’ll put it to use” hell joke.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high, but not uncontrollable. Jason is a patient man and has no problem waiting for you to be in the mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t fall asleep quickly. He’s the type to smoke a cigarette with you (if you smoke) on the balcony as he holds you. He’s used to being up all night, so he would only nap post sex if if the afternoon so it doesn’t mess with the sleep schedule. “Come here and cuddle babe. We can order something for take out”

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #batfam #jason todd reader #red hood x you #red hood

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iheartkiri · 9 months ago

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draco malfoy is an idiot. (1)

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

You stood in the library, your movements sharp and angry as you slammed books back onto the shelves. It had been a month since your blowout with Draco, and the feelings from that night still rained heavy on your mind. Clearly, it had been a mutual sentiment as the tension between you and Draco whenever you two unfortunately ran into each other was thick enough to cut.

Your childhood friends, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, noticing your mood, exchanged concerned glances with each other.

"What's up with you, Y/N?" Blaise cautiously asked, his eyes darting between you and the bookshelves. "You've been pissed off for weeks. Did something go down with you and Draco?"

You spun around, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger. "Oh that jerk?" you snapped, your voice dripping with bitterness. "I can't believe I ever considered that loser my friend."

Theodore frowned, his eyes filled with confusion. "What did he say that got you so riled up? We know Draco can be an ass sometimes, but a month of you guys not speaking is a bit much."

You clenched your fists, the hurt and anger bubbling inside you. "You know what he did? He called me sensitive and said I couldn't take a joke," you said, your voice shaking. "He made me feel like my feelings didn't even matter to him, like I was overreacting. He didn't even try to see where I was coming from."

Blaise's eyebrows furrowed, his expression turning serious. “Dang that's a low blow, even for Draco. We know he can be a jerk, but a month of you guys not talking is a little excessive. What exactly happened during that fight?"

You took a shaky breath, the memories of that painful day flooding your mind. "It started as off as a stupid joke, but then he took it too far. I tried to tell him how he was in the wrong, but he brushed me off. He didn't care that he was hurting my feelings."

Theodore placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his eyes soft with understanding. "I get why you're angry, Y/N. Draco can be thoughtless. But a month is a long time. Maybe he's realized his mistake and is too stubborn to admit it."

You shook your head, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm not ready to forgive him, Theo. Not yet. He really messed up, and I need him to understand how much his words hurt. I won't be the one to cave."

Blaise stepped closer, his voice gentle and understanding. "We get it, Y/N. Draco can be an arrogant jerk sometimes. But we also know he cares about you. Maybe he's too proud to admit he was wrong, but we can try to talk to him, see if he'll apologize."

You scoffed, your anger simmering just below the surface. "Don't bother, Blaise. I don't want anything to do with him anymore. If he's waiting for my apology he can wait all he wants. Besides, he must be 'so sorry' himself to let a month pass by." You added sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Theodore squeezed your shoulder, his eyes filled with determination. "Y/N, we just want to help. We know you and Draco go way back, and we can see you guys really care about each other. We're worried, and we want to fix this."

You shook your head, your eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and stubbornness. "There's nothing between us Theo. Not anymore. And even if there was, it doesn't change the fact that he hurt me. I'm not ready to forgive him."

Blaise and Theodore shared a worried glance, their faces grim. "We won't push you, Y/N," Blaise said, his voice gentle. "But we're concerned. We know you and Draco have a very....close relationship. We just want to see you happy again."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I appreciate it, guys. I know you're trying to help. But Draco and I are done, and that's final."

As you turned away from them, your eyes landed on the books you had angrily shelved, their spines crooked and out of place. It was a reflection of the chaos inside you—a chaos that idiot Draco had caused and seemed to have no intention of fixing anytime soon.

Blaise and Theodore exchanged a meaningful glance, their faces filled with concern. "We'll give it one more shot," Theodore said, his voice unwavering. "We'll talk to him, try to talk some sense into that rascal."

You shook your head, a bitter smile on your lips. You knew there was no way they could possibly make Draco Malfoy apologize. "Good luck with that. Draco's too stubborn for his own good. And even if he is sorry, he won't admit it. He's too proud for that."

Blaise placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll see, Y/N. We know how to get through to him. And if he truly cares, he'll find a way to make things right."

And as you continued to shelve books, your anger slowly fading into sadness, you knew that Blaise and Theodore would do their best to mend the rift between you and Draco. But deep down, you weren't ready to forgive him, not yet. The hurt was still too raw, and the silence between you stretched on.

#literature #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #harry potter #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #hp fic #harry potter fandom #draco fanfiction

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bythepen98 · 2 years ago

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Zutara ❤

This was honestly supposed to be a quick one but I got too invested bc this is my first fa of this ship :')

Context:

Consider this an au where Aang never had a crush on Katara and the tension instead revolved around her and Zuko throughout the series. A spark at first sight so to speak. Fate would step in several times where they'd somehow end up separating from their groups and find each other in the same vicinity. They're both temperamental, so they'd naturally start fighting and exchanging barbs but would always hold back from truly hurting each other. There was disdain but also slight curiosity there. However, it would mostly go ignored, spitefully so in Katara's end after the catacombs debacle, until Zuko realises that he messed up and goes back to fix things.

Note: He never paired back up with Mai during this period bc my boy may have been in denial but he knew enough not to lead anyone on just for the sake of normalcy, especially when he was feeling all types of conflicted. On that note, he still got pushed to spend some together with Jin back in Ba Sing Se but firmly and point blank told her that it was not a date --

bc all he could think about were fiery blue eyes

--but didn't mind going together as friends.

He would definitely be more awkward around Katara once he joins the team and Katara would be just as vicious bc the betrayal, while painful in canon, would probably be more devastating here since personal unresolved feelings (that have been building up since their many accidental meet ups) are involved. He'd still do his best to help her out while also trying not to be an eyesore by watching longingly from a distance. The rest of the Gaang just finds this a bit sad but also hilarious.

Like canon, things get better after Zuko and Katara went on their lifechanging bonding trip to find Kya's killer but instead of the one sided awkward/hostility, they were now both awkward and would shyly but somehow seamlessly move as a unit while they worked around the site, especially when it came time to make meals for everyone.

Fleeting touches, eyes locking for a few seconds before looking away, sitting in closer proximity around the campfire, Zuko silently placing flowers in places where Katara would easily find it and Katara reciprocating by making little snacks and giving it to him every now and then, particularly after his training sessions with Aang. If they sometimes held hands while they sat in silence after a long, hard day, then that's no one's business but their own.

Idk. I feel like it's a good kind of irony that they're both so passionate people who used to fight each other on sight but have this slow and sweet exploratory type of romance that would mostly go unacknowledged (out loud, though both knew the feeling was mutual) until after the war. Fits the vibe I had for them while drawing this so it was fun.

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mistress-of-vos · 11 months ago

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It's their turn! 💛❤️✨

(Extra context of the meme below (mini fic?)!!!)

After the events of Red Robin, Babs and Luke inform Jean-Paul of the issues and problems going on among the bats. During a mission, Bruce got hurt again and has been benched, meaning the situation of "Dick covering for Batman" is once again back in town. This creates a lot of tension among Dick, Damian, Tim, Jason and Bruce, making it almost impossible for them to work together.

Having their hands full with actual city saving, Luke and Babs called JP to ask him to go back and help for a while. Luke does apologize for it, since he knows JP is way happier in Europe and working on his own. It's not that JP doesn't like Gotham, but he grew tired of Bruce and Dick treating him like trash, so he left months after Jason had that - violent encounter with Tim on Titans Tower.

Jean-Paul admits that was part of the problem too; he didn't like it that Bruce seemed so at peace with Tim getting hurt. And Tim... Tim allowed Bruce to ignore his pain. That was maddening, btw, and Jean-Paul had snapped a few times against Tim, screaming that he shouldn't let Bruce walk over him.

Whatever. Jean-Paul had left. He went to Europe and traveled, getting rid of the order of st. Dumas by himself alone, and then getting rid of other groups equally awful and cruel. It was a tiring, slow job. He traveled a lot, and from time to time visited Brian in Spain to chat, but mostly he focused on ending the cycle of violence that he had been raised into. Eventually he did, and just months later, Luke and Babs call.

Being back in Gotham is - weird. It has been years, and Jean-Paul feels uncomfortable around Jason and Damian. His dislike towards Dick hasn't lowered, and it has stayed as a mutual feeling, although JP can't help to feel a bit of pity for Dick when he sees how tired and old Dick looks once he takes off the Batman cowl. But hey, didn't Dick argue that JP wasn't worthy? Then perhaps he should carry the weight of the mantle he insisted JP tainted.

Mostly, JP doesn't like being back at Gotham. Until he sees Tim.

Tim, who has - grown into such a smart, beautiful and sassy young man. Tim, who wears eyeliner, mascara and red lipstick. Tim, with acrilic nails as sharp as Catwoman's. Tim, with a perfume even more hypnotizing than Poison Ivy. Tim, lethal and beautiful. Tim, that makes JP's knees tremble as if he's a teenage virgin boy.

And it gets worse when they start working together. Huge news! Ofc JP had been called back because Tim refused to work with the bats anymore, and it's JP's duty to work with him and push him back to Babs (she does understand that Tim doesn't want to be close to the others, but she worries about Tim being alone, and doesn't want him going out without any support). And doing that is hell, because JP falls hard and deep for Tim.

JP is sure that he was completely whipped by the end of the third week working together. Maybe even sooner.

That's how Luke learns about it, since JP is awful at hiding his crushes. And Luke has the nerve to laugh, telling JP to ask Tim out as if Tim wasn't way out of JP's league! Does Luke enjoy seeing him suffering? JP thinks he will go crazy if he has to hear one more phrase about taking risks...

And yet JP follows Luke's advice: He asks Tim out.

He asks Tim out in a chat. A grupal chat. With Luke on it. And maybe he's hugging his cat George all the time while waiting for Tim to reply.

Against all logic, Tim says yes, and then texts JP on their private chat (the one that's supposed to be used for cases only), saying just one sentence:

"You're adorable, Jean-Paul."

For the record, the first date goes great. JP manages to get to third base, and Tim smirks smugly while murmuring "Puppy" on JP's ear, nails holding his long blonde hair to keep him in place: At Tim's mercy.

#tim drake #jean paul valley #jean-paul valley #jean paul valley x tim drake #shipping #jeantim #bottom tim drake #queer #pro shipping #slightly suggestive #my writing #crackship #fic ideas #batcest

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krisslegacy · 2 months ago

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chains that bind us - the scientist

ao3 link

song - the scientist by coldplay

characters - bucky barnes x original female character

summary - james buchanan barnes is a man out of his time, lost in the darkness that hydra left in him.

frejaina heladottir swims in darkness, but the chains of hydra destroyed 200 years of her strength.

after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, bucky and jaina stay in hiding across europe. it's a lonely existence, broken and battered by hydra. but they can't avoid the traumas they share- their souls have been linked since the 1950s. under the weight of their isolation, they are the only ones who can heal each other.

word count - 1,008

warnings and tags - hurt/comfort, slow burn, unresolved emotional tension, mutual pining,ptsd, thoughts of past abuse, trauma

authors note- hi! frejaina, or jaina, can also be read as a reader self insert. shes technically an OC

jaina is the daughter of hela (thor ragnarok), and an unidentified soul of the underworld with the x-gene, which makes her a half-god mutant. her abilities from hela consist of necromancy and soul magic, while her mutant genes allow her to bend shadows, teleport through them, and assume a horrifying spectral-shadow form. she kind of has history with the x-men in the 1990s-2000s but falls back into the clutches of hydra but i won't get into that.

enjoy!

Toledo was quieter than he expected.

And the wind was warmer too. It filtered through the curtains of the safehouse to bring a comfort he didn’t expect. But it was welcome.

He liked this, he liked the open air of the countryside. It reminded him of a time he couldn’t remember, but a time he felt. A salty breeze and open sky. Sunlight. Distant honking of a bustling cityscape. Blonde hair and blue eyes.

He could think about these things now, for as long as he wanted. No one could stop him. Not the beast that held him hostage for so long, the creeping tentacles that stole his mind and twisted it into something else. But the fear was still close, and it didn’t feel right to be free. It felt… fake. Like a sick joke.

He inhaled. Exhaled.

His bionic arm felt much heavier nowadays, it was almost painful. A mind numbing, thrumming sensation that never left him long enough to know peace. It was a constant reminder of the past, the silver glint of chains that bound him. His fist clenched at the thought.

“Солдат.”

Not even blinking, the Winter Soldier responded. “певица.”

“It feels so… natural. For us, doesn’t it?”

The Shadow Singer was there when he turned around, half blended into the darkness that permeated the safehouse. Her eyes, evergreen, studied him with the same intensity they always had. But now, they weren’t poisonous. They were soft, calm, sad.

“I think they will always have a hold on us,” she said softly, moving towards the moonlight that he bathed in. “No matter how much we hide.”

They never stood closer than two feet to each other, were never allowed to. Even now, when nothing held them back, the memory of their muscles restricted them.

Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her hand against the scar at her neck. He can still remember the clasp around it, the sickly red swell it left when she’d finally pried it off. The tears that followed. He had never seen her cry before and it felt like something he shouldn’t have seen. That was natural, though, was it not?

He wouldn’t know. Nothing was natural for him anymore.

“You’ll have that scar forever,” he finally said, voice parched and rough like gravel. He hadn’t spoken in days.

The singer dropped her hand. “It’ll show what I’ve survived then. Same with your arm.”

Again, the weight of his arm caved, and he hunched slightly. There were times when he’d wake up from the sharp sensation of a cold burn, blood in his mouth. He saw round glasses and lab coats, harsh lights, mountains, snow.

He truly didn’t remember anything, then. Maybe the man on the bridge was right. What was his name again? Steven? Steve? Steve.

Steve. Perhaps he’d known him in another life, like he’d said.

That would be nice. It would be nice to know that somewhere in time, he had someone to count on.

The Shadow Singer was his mission partner. A fellow agent. A warrior. She would have his back, he would have hers. That was the way it had always worked for… how long? He would have to ask and find out.

“How long do you think it’s been?” Bucky said.

“Since what?”

He didn’t even know what he was going to ask. There had been a time before Hydra, but it felt impossible to imagine.

Her eyes shifted to the floor again, the creaky wooden boards that ran parallel to her. “I remember the day they found you. I watched them put you into cryostasis. A lot. It was always fascinating to me how the human body simply endured.”

A siren wailed miles away.

“You watched me.”

“Always.”

He nearly shuddered. Her green eyes burned into his retina.

Perhaps she knew more about him than he knew about himself. He never recalled… anything. Any feeling, any desire was absent to him, a void of limitless nothingness. He just remembered the cold and the pain and the lighting that danced across his bones. It gave him nothing. It gave him no incentive for help. Why? Why had he been so pathetic, like a dog, to sit there and take what they threw at him? Why could he have never stood up for himself?

He didn’t even realize how hard his metal fist was clenched before he felt feather-light touch against it.

His hand flew away from hers in a heartbeat. He didn’t want touch, he didn’t-

Immediately she retreated back into the safety of the darkness, shadows enveloping her into a tight hug before she all but vanished from his sight. The whole apartment was dark, yet the Shadow Singer found comfort in it.

Within a blink of an eye she sat on the small green couch. Arm crossed and chest curved inwards, she was suddenly not the monstrous otherworldly-creature he remembered. Now she seemed just as afraid and cold and cautious as he felt.

“What do we call each other now?” Her voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a hundred years of servitude.

She was asking him. For an answer. For permission, a command. Something thick grew in his throat and he couldn’t swallow it. It wasn’t his place.

The man on the bridge- Steve- he called him Bucky. It had clicked like a missing puzzle piece in a larger equation. It felt right to him, to choose that instead of Soldat. He didn’t want to be a soldier anymore, he wanted to stop fighting.

The Shadow Singer sat up. “Do you remember your name?”

He thinks so. Yes. “Bucky.”

The word tasted like sugar on his tongue, rolled off smoothly. The stones of the past began to lift off of him.

“Do you have a name?” Bucky said slowly.

She nodded. “Frejaina. Jaina.”

In the years they’d worked together, never had they known their names, never had they used them. Bucky wanted to frown. He did.

Bucky and Jaina. The Shadow Singer and the Winter Soldier.

That’s who they would be now.

thanks for reading! hopefully this will be a series.

dividers by cafekitsune

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky x jaina #krisslegacy writes #marvel fanfiction #marvel #the winter soldier #captain america civil war #captian america #captain america the winter soldier #fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes hurt comfort #necromancer character

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 1 month ago

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Quiet Moments and Old Wounds | Sebastian Sallow x OC #12

a bit of an emotional rollercoaster w this one heh

Summary: After a grueling Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson on the Unforgivable Curses, Sebastian helps Evangeline through painful memories, offering quiet support as they share tea and conversation at the Three Broomsticks. Their banter and open confessions turn the day from a reminder of past trauma into a moment of connection and comfort, reaffirming the unique, “odd” bond between them.

Words: 8,066

Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Friends To Lovers, Longing, Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied Smut, Unforgivable Curses, Shared Trauma

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

AO3 Link

A week after the Solstice Ball, Sebastian sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts, his gaze wandering over the rows of students gathered in the classroom. Professor Hecat’s voice echoed faintly, but he absorbed none of it. His thoughts were elsewhere, still preoccupied with the memory of that night in the ballroom—of Evangeline’s hesitant smile, the way her hand had felt in his, and the almost dreamlike quality of the ballroom as he’d held her close. Those dances had left an ache in him that he couldn’t quite dispel, a memory that lingered like a phantom each time he caught sight of her and Lysander together.

Sebastian had anticipated that the ball might tilt things one way or another, that it would either cement her place at Lysander’s side—a thought that made his heart lurch in his chest—or unravel whatever thread of affection she’d felt for the Ravenclaw. But, somehow, it had done neither. No grand fallout, no clearer attachment—just a maddening, uncertain limbo that kept his hopes at a torturous simmer.

Now, each time he looked at Evangeline, he found himself searching for some clue, some sign of what that night might have changed between them, but her expression betrayed nothing.

He sighed inwardly, glancing sideways at her where she sat beside him, scribbling something absentmindedly on her parchment. A tiny crease had formed between her brows, the only hint of distraction he could catch. He’d come to recognize that look, the subtle shift in her expression when she was preoccupied, though whether with school or her thoughts, he couldn’t tell.

Professor Hecat’s voice cut through his thoughts, her tone more serious than usual. “And as we approach the end of term, we’ll be covering two final and crucial topics: Dementors and the Unforgivable Curses.”

The shift in atmosphere was immediate. A weight settled over the room, the usually casual murmur of conversation falling into tense silence. Sebastian’s stomach twisted, his fingers curling around the edge of his desk as though holding on might keep him steady. He’d dreaded this lesson. He’d known it was coming, of course—Hecat had never been one to soften the curriculum, especially where real-world threats were concerned. But still, the reality of it hit harder than he’d expected.

Beside him, Evangeline stilled, the quill in her hand motionless against her parchment. The subtle shift in her posture was all he needed to see. She was bracing herself, steeling her mind for whatever painful reminders lay ahead. On his other side, Ominis sat perfectly still, his hands folded over his desk, though Sebastian could see the tension in his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow.

Professor Hecat’s gaze swept the room, taking in each face as if measuring the class’s readiness to confront what lay ahead.

She took a step forward, her tone steady, professional, and unyielding. “Today, we begin our study of the Unforgivable Curses. We’ll discuss each in turn, examining both the mechanics and the consequences of these spells, as well as their impact on the caster and the victim.” Her voice softened, but only slightly. “While these spells are illegal, some wizards and witches in positions of authority and power have found themselves tempted by them. Others have felt justified in using them. Today’s class is not about justifying these curses but about understanding their dark impact, and why they have been given the title of Unforgivable.”

A few students shifted uncomfortably, and Sebastian could see the ripple of uncertainty move across the room. He couldn’t blame them. This wasn’t the usual theory and practice of hexes or shields; it was about confronting the harshest reality of the wizarding world.

Professor Hecat continued, her eyes now on the far end of the room. “We’ll begin todays class by examining the Cruciatus Curse."

Sebastian swallowed hard, forcing himself not to look directly at Evangeline even though he could feel the air shift beside him, a subtle tightening as she braced herself. The Cruciatus Curse was no mere theory to either of them.

He could still hear her screams. The memory surged through him with vivid clarity—the dim light, the cold, unyielding walls, and the tremor in his hand as he’d raised wand toward her. It was a moment he relived far too often in his nightmares, no matter how much he tried to shove it into some corner of his mind and forget. He’d seen her eyes filled with trust, with fear, and, maddeningly, with a kind of acceptance he hadn’t deserved. She’d told him she trusted him, had braced herself with an impossible courage, but the curse’s effect was merciless.

Sebastian felt the weight of Evangeline’s presence beside him now, her breathing shallow, but steady. Her gaze was focused on the front of the room, her expression carefully controlled, yet he knew she must be remembering it, too. How could she not? And still, she’d stayed by his side. He had never fully understood that—how she’d been able to forgive him, how she still looked at him without the disgust he often felt for himself.

He forced his gaze back to Professor Hecat, whose own eyes flickered with something unreadable, perhaps knowing the toll this lesson would take on certain students. She straightened, her voice firm as she continued.

“Casting the Cruciatus Curse requires intent—not merely the will to cast but the desire to inflict pain. Without it, the curse fails.” Her words were blunt, as though daring her students to understand the weight of that intent. “Some wizards, fueled by hatred or anger, have found that intent comes… disturbingly easy.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his throat tight as he fought to keep his focus. Hecat’s words sank into him like ice. He hadn’t needed to find that intent, hadn’t searched for that willingness to cause pain... he’d simply summoned it that day to enter the Scriptorium.

And what did that say about him? That both Ominis and Evangeline, faced with the same choice, had refused to cast the curse? That Evangeline, despite the danger, had looked him in the eyes and said, without hesitation, that she couldn't—wouldn’t—bring herself to harm him, not even if it was the only way out?

But he’d done it. He’d raised his wand against her. He’d done what she couldn’t bring herself to do.

What did that make him? A realist, willing to make hard choices? Or a coward, hiding his darkness behind justifications and “what had to be done”?

Professor Hecat was looking at the class now, her gaze as sharp as ever. “Some of you may think you’d never reach for such a spell, never feel the pull of that kind of power.” Her eyes moved across the room, as if daring them to face the truth. “But many dark wizards thought the same before being seduced by these spells. Which is why today’s lesson is so important.”

Her words settled over the room like a shroud. Sebastian risked a glance at Evangeline, hoping for some hint in her expression. But her face was calm, her eyes focused intently on Hecat. Only the slightest flicker of tension in her jaw betrayed her emotions.

At his other side, Ominis’s hands rested tightly clenched on his desk, his usually calm face fixed in a blank mask. For Ominis, the curse was woven into his family’s legacy, another piece of the darkness he had distanced himself from. And yet, despite the burden of his family’s influence, Ominis had resisted that day, too. He’d stayed true to his own principles in a way that Sebastian hadn’t.

As Professor Hecat directed the class to turn to a specific page in their textbooks, the rustling of parchment filled the room, a strange, tense contrast to the stillness of the lesson itself. Sebastian reached for his own book, opening it without really seeing the words, the murky haze of his thoughts making the text blur. But beside him, Evangeline hadn’t moved. She sat frozen, her eyes fixed forward, her quill still poised above her parchment as if she’d forgotten it was even there.

It was subtle, the way she held herself, the faint rigidity in her posture. To anyone else, she might have appeared completely focused on Hecat’s words, but Sebastian could see the fine tremor in her hand, the tightness in her shoulders. She was pretending to listen, her body betraying the effort it took to keep herself steady, to not let the memories pull her under.

Without thinking, he nudged her book open, turning it to the correct page and setting it gently in front of her, his hand brushing hers for the briefest moment. Her fingers twitched, as though brought back to life by his touch, and she blinked, glancing down at the text before her.

Then their eyes met, just for a second, but he could see the raw, unguarded emotion there—the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. She managed a faint nod, a silent thank you, before turning her attention back to the page, though her eyes remained unfocused, fixed somewhere just beyond the words.

Professor Hecat continued with her lesson, her voice calm but relentless as she detailed the effects of the Cruciatus Curse in clinical terms. “The curse itself can leave lasting physical and psychological trauma. In severe cases, victims report recurring pain, even after the curse is lifted, as well as nightmares, hallucinations, and an inability to trust those around them.” Her gaze shifted momentarily to the back of the room, as though choosing her words with care. “It’s a reminder that magic—especially dark magic—leaves scars that linger far beyond the moment of its casting.”

The words hit Sebastian like a stone in his chest. Admittedly, since that day, he had gone out of his way to avoid learning about the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse on its victims. He’d always told himself that knowing would only make things worse, would only deepen the pit of guilt he carried with him every day. And if he didn’t fully understand what he’d done to Evangeline, he could convince himself that maybe, it hadn’t been as bad as he feared.

But Hecat’s words shattered that illusion, leaving him no room to hide. The clinical descriptions—the pain that lingered, the nightmares, the fractured trust—each one twisted the knife a little deeper. He’d known it had hurt Evie, that much was obvious, but hearing it laid out in plain, detached terms drove home part of the truth he’d been avoiding.

Beside him, Evangeline remained still, her gaze steady but distant as though she were somewhere else entirely. He wondered if she felt any of it now, if her body remembered that agony in the way Hecat described, or if the memories haunted her dreams as they did his.

He forced his gaze back to his textbook, the words swimming before his eyes as Hecat droned on, her lecture morphing into a murmur in the background as he wrestled with his own thoughts. Every once in awhile, he sensed movement beside him, a slight shift as Ominis or Evangeline turned a page.

At some point, Sebastian became vaguely aware that Hecat had moved on to discussing the Imperius Curse, her voice describing the effects of mind control, the loss of agency, and the danger of surrendering one's will. But the words slipped past him, distant and muted, failing to penetrate the heavy fog in his mind. He turned another page in his textbook without really seeing it, his hand moving automatically as if that alone might convince anyone watching that he was paying attention. But he wasn’t.

And then, all of a sudden, the bell’s chime jolted Sebastian out of his fog, the sounds of chairs scraping and books closing pulling him back to the present. Around him, students murmured in subdued tones as they shuffled out, the weight of the lesson lingering in the air like a cloud. He saw Ominis rise, his face carefully blank as he gathered his things, his hand moving over his wand in a familiar, steadying gesture. Evangeline, though, hadn’t moved, her gaze still fixed on the page in front of her as if she hadn’t heard the bell at all.

Sebastian hesitated, watching her. The room emptied gradually, even Ominis departed without a word, but Evangeline remained in her seat, eyes fixed on the words without seeing them. It was like she’d shut herself off completely, her usually warm presence now a faint echo of itself.

Still standing at the front of the classroom, Professor Hecat’s expression tightened as she watched Evangeline, her gaze softening in a way Sebastian had never seen. She sighed, a barely audible sound as she approached them, her eyes lingering on Evangeline’s unmoving form. With a gentle shake of her head, she muttered, “No one so young should have to carry so much. Who knows what horrors she faced out there, battling poachers and Ranrok’s loyalists…” Her voice trailed off, the edge of regret in her tone unmistakable.

Sebastian’s stomach twisted. It only made sense, he knew, for Hecat to believe Evangeline’s reaction was tied to her battles last year, the relentless fight she’d waged in the Highlands. And it wasn’t wrong—those experiences had left their own scars. But he knew better. He knew that today’s lesson cut deeper because of him. Because of the choice he had made in that Scriptorium, a choice she hadn’t been able to refuse. The guilt weighed down on him, a silent, unbearable burden.

Hecat glanced at Sebastian, her gaze shrewd, and after a moment’s thought, she seemed to reach a decision. She pulled a small parchment from her desk and scribbled something quickly, the scratching of her quill sharp in the silent classroom. She folded the note and pressed it into Sebastian’s hand, her expression firm.

“You’re very close with her, Mr. Sallow,” she said, her voice low but unmistakably kind. “Take her wherever she’ll be most comfortable. She doesn’t need to attend the rest of her classes today. Nor do you.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he looked down at the note in his hand, realizing it was a written permission slip allowing he and Evangeline to miss their remaining classes. Hecat met his gaze, her expression softened with the weight of understanding. “Look after her, Sebastian,” she murmured, her tone carrying an unspoken trust.

He nodded, his throat tight as he murmured, “Yes, Professor.” He glanced back at Evangeline, who was still staring blankly at the page, oblivious to the world around her. Carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder, the contact gentle as he whispered her name.

“Evie?” he murmured, a softness in his voice that even he hadn’t expected.

Her gaze slowly lifted, unfocused at first, before recognition flickered in her eyes. She looked at him, blinking as if surfacing from a trance, and he held up the note Hecat had given him. “We’ve got permission to leave. Just you and me. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Evangeline glanced at Hecat, who offered her a small, reassuring nod before returning to her desk.

Evangeline took a slow, steadying breath and nodded, her fingers brushing against his as she rose from her seat. She looked drained, her usual spark dulled, and a pang of guilt shot through him again. He led her out of the classroom and down the winding corridors, his mind racing for the best place to bring her.

His first choice would usually be the Undercroft, but even their secret hideout could hold painful memories. After all, that was where he and Ominis has first brought her after she'd endured curse.

Beside him, Evangeline walked as though she were half-asleep, her eyes distant and unfocused, as if each step cost her an effort she couldn’t quite summon. Without thinking, Sebastian reached for her hand, clasping it firmly in his own.

As they passed through the crowded corridors, a few students glanced their way, eyebrows raised or whispering to each other as they took in Evangeline’s expression or the way her hand was clasped in Sebastian’s. But each time someone looked too long, Sebastian’s gaze turned sharp, his glare an unspoken warning. Most people quickly averted their eyes, but those who lingered caught the full brunt of his stare, as if he dared them to comment.

Finally, they stepped out of the main castle doors and into the open grounds. It was December, and the winter chill was sharp, seeping through their robes, but Sebastian only realized his mistake halfway down the path, noticing the way Evangeline shivered beside him, her breath visible in faint clouds against the cold air.

He bit back a curse. Like an idiot, he had started leading her toward Hogsmeade—toward the Three Broomsticks, where he knew Sirona could offer them a quiet, private room upstairs, away from the prying eyes and judgment of the castle. But he’d overlooked one small, glaring detail: neither of them had a coat. She was visibly shivering now, her cheeks reddened from the cold, and guilt gnawed at him for not thinking this through.

“You must be freezing, Evie. Merlin, I didn’t think,” he murmured, slowing his steps and pulling her gently to a stop. He was still holding her hand, and he could feel the chill of her fingers even through his own.

Evangeline didn't respond, of course, her hazel eyes glossy and unfocused, as if she were only half-aware of where they were.

Sebastian tightened his grip on her hand, hoping to anchor her back to the present. “Well… let’s keep going, alright? It’s not too far now. And here,” he said, shrugging off his outer robe. “Take this. It’s not much, but it’ll help.” He draped it around her shoulders, the green of his robes now overlapping the red of her own.

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d refuse. But she pulled the robe tighter around herself and gave a slight nod. Her silence felt heavier than any words she might’ve spoken, and he knew that there were no quick fixes, no words to ease the wounds of their shared past. But he could at least keep her company through the chill, through the weight of memories that they both carried.

When they finally arrived at the Three Broomsticks, Sebastian ushered her inside, the warm glow of the inn wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Sirona’s eyes immediately softened as they crossed the threshold, her usual warmth tempered with a quiet understanding.

Sebastian didn't even have to ask before Sirona gestured to the stairs. “Go on up,” she said kindly, “I’ll bring some tea and soup. You two look like you could use it.”

Sebastian gave her a grateful nod and led Evangeline up the narrow staircase, the warmth of the inn slowly easing the cold from their bones. The small room at the top of the stairs was cozy, with a crackling fire casting gentle light over the wooden walls and plush armchairs. He guided her to the seat nearest the fire, tightening his robe over her shoulders.

She sank into the chair, curling into the fabric as if it offered her some shield from the weight of her thoughts. He kneeled on the floor in front of her, studying her expression as the firelight softened the tension in her features, though her eyes remained distant, clouded with memories that neither of them could quite shake.

Moments later, Sirona appeared, setting down a tray with two steaming mugs and two bowls of soup. She placed a gentle hand on Evangeline’s shoulder, her voice low and kind. “Take your time, love. No one will bother you here.”

Evangeline glanced up, her hazel eyes flickering with a hint of gratitude before Sirona quietly withdrew, leaving them alone in the warmth of the room. Sebastian wrapped his hands around his own mug, savoring the heat. They sat together in the quiet, letting the warmth of the fire and the steam from their tea fill the empty spaces between them. Neither of them spoke. Sebastian simply watched as Evangeline took small, measured sips, her gaze still distant.

Eventually, he noticed her mug was empty, though she continued to hold it stiffly. Without a word, he reached over and gently took it from her hands. She didn’t resist, her fingers loosening their grip even as her gaze shifted to him, a faint question in her eyes. Sebastian offered her a soft, reassuring smile as he placed the empty mug on the tray beside them.

He picked up the bowl of soup Sirona had left for her, cradling it carefully in his hands before holding it out. “Here,” he murmured, his voice as warm as the soup. “Eat a little. You haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

Evangeline looked at the bowl, her brow furrowing slightly as though she hadn’t even realized her hunger until he’d mentioned it. With a faint, almost hesitant nod, she took the bowl from him, her fingers brushing his in a touch that was both brief and grounding. She lifted the spoon slowly, and he was relieved to see her take a small sip, the warmth of the broth seeming to bring a bit more color back to her cheeks.

Sebastian remained close, his own soup untouched as he watched her in quiet concern. Each careful spoonful she took felt like a small victory, a sign that she was re-emerging from the dark place the lesson had dragged her into. Her eyes flickered toward him a few times, and he held her gaze each time, offering silent reassurance with a look that said, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

When she’d eaten a few spoonfuls, she set the bowl down, her hands still trembling slightly. She met his gaze, and there was a faint flicker of something softer in her eyes—gratitude, perhaps.

“I… don’t know why it’s still so hard,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I’d moved on from it… or at least made peace with it.”

Sebastian felt a pang in his chest, an ache that was all too familiar. He reached out, his hand resting gently over hers. “I… I’m so sorry, Evie,” he replied softly.

The words felt painfully inadequate, a mere whisper against the weight of the hurt they both carried. He wished he had something better to offer, something that could actually ease the pain he’d inflicted, but all he could do was sit here, his fingers curled around hers, hoping that his presence might be worth something, anything at all.

Evangeline’s gaze softened as she looked at him, her hand trembling slightly in his. “I told myself that forgiving you would be enough,” she murmured, “And I do forgive you. But… somehow, that hasn’t stopped the memories from coming back."

Sebastian’s grip on her hand tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a small, steadying gesture. “Evie… I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” His voice grew thick, and he had to swallow hard to keep his composure. “I wish I could take it all back. I wish you didn’t have to carry this… because of me.”

Evangeline’s gaze flickered over his face, a trace of sadness mingling with something almost like resignation. “I know, Sebastian. I know you would change it if you could.” She managed a small, weary smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

They sat there, suspended in that quiet space between regret and acceptance, neither of them moving as they lingered in the warmth of the fire. Finally, after a long pause, Evangeline’s gaze softened further as she took in Sebastian’s face, her thumb idly tracing a small circle over his hand as if she were lost in thought.

“Thank you for looking after me,” she murmured, her voice laced with quiet sincerity. “I know you’d take any excuse to skip class,” she added with a playful smile, “but… it really means a lot that you’re here.”

Sebastian’s smile softened, his heart tugging as he saw that glimpse of her usual spirit breaking through. “Hey, I’ll take any excuse to be the hero, especially for you,” he replied, the teasing note in his voice underscored by the warmth in his gaze.

She shook her head with a small laugh, her eyes reflecting the firelight. “You make it sound so noble,” she said, her voice light but her smile grateful. Then her gaze turned inward, her brow creasing as if trying to make sense of her thoughts. “I’m… honestly not sure what happened. It was like my mind just… shut off." Her voice grew even softer, tinged with an uncertainty she didn’t often show. “If I'm honest, I don’t think anyone else could have coaxed me out of it."

Sebastian’s heart ached at her words, at the trust she had placed in him even after everything. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he also knew he would hold onto it, safeguard it like the rarest of treasures. "Well... I'll always be here when you need me, Evie."

She looked up at him, the gratitude in her hazel eyes deeper than words could convey. “I know."

They sat there, the silence between them filled not with lingering memories but with a mutual understanding, a warmth that had been hard-won. In that quiet room, with only the fire and each other, it felt like they’d carved out a small sanctuary. And after a moment, Evangeline's lips curved into a small, almost mischievous smile.

“You know,” she began, her voice lightening slightly, “I still catch myself feeling scandalized when I’m alone in a room like this with you.” She laughed quietly, the sound like a soft release of tension. “Back in the Muggle world, something like this would be seen as… improper.”

Sebastian chuckled, though a flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes. “So, technically, I should be very concerned about my reputation then?”

“Oh, definitely,” Evangeline replied, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If you were a Muggle, you’d be a rake. And my propriety would be ruins,” she added with a mock sigh. “It’s such a relief to be a witch. Having a best friend who’s a boy would’ve caused such a fuss in the orphanage. And yet, here we are… utterly scandalous. Unchaperoned, close quarters, tea…"

Sebastian grinned, grateful for the shift in mood. “Imagine what they’d think at the orphanage if they knew I’ve been sneaking around the castle with you all this time.”

Her laugh grew, and she leaned back slightly in her chair, looking thoughtful. “It’s funny—there are so many things in the wizarding world that feel… freer, in a way. I keep expecting someone to rush in with rules about how close we can sit or how much time I can spend with you. But here, no one seems to mind.”

Sebastian tilted his head, intrigued. “What kind of rules did you have growing up?”

“Oh, all sorts,” she replied, her gaze drifting to the fire as she spoke. “Once we were "grown up" we couldn’t spend too much time with the boys, and we certainly couldn’t be alone with one. It was all about appearances and being ‘proper.’” She rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Everything felt so rigid. In the wizarding world, nobody blinks twice about us being alone like this.”

"Well, for what it’s worth, I’d be a gentleman either way." he murmured, smirking as he gently squeezed her hand. His tone softened as he added, “I think you’ve had enough scandal in your life."

“Well I do appreciate that. But for the record,” she said, her voice lighter, though the sincerity in her eyes grounded her words, “I think if I was going to scandalize myself, I couldn’t ask for better company.”

Sebastian’s gaze lingered on her, his heart thudding a little harder, a warmth blooming in his chest, "Well then, I’ll do my best to live up to the honour,” he replied, his voice soft, but laced with the same gentle playfulness she’d brought into the moment.

Evangeline looked down, a hint of colour creeping into her cheeks as she toyed with the edge of Sebastian’s robe draped over her shoulders. After a moment, she glanced up at him, a mix of hesitation and something bashful in her expression.

“Can I… ask you something?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze flickered away again, clearly wrestling with whatever it was she wanted to ask.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He could count on one hand the times Evangeline had looked truly bashful around him. “Of course,” he replied gently, his curiosity growing. “You can ask me anything.”

She nodded, taking a steadying breath before looking back at him. “Well, it’s… it’s just that growing up in the Muggle world, like I said we had these strict rules. You might have heard of debutantes and all that. There's this whole… season of events where women are presented to society, and there are all these strict expectations about what’s proper.”

Sebastian listened, fascinated, as she continued, “Things like being alone with eligible bachelors, dancing too close, kissing... well, it's all forbidden.” Her cheeks coloured further, but her gaze didn’t waver, even as she stumbled over the last words. “But… it’s different in the wizarding world. There don��t seem to be as many… restrictions.”

Sebastian’s expression softened as he absorbed her words. It struck him how different her upbringing must have been and how little they’d ever spoken about such an intimate topic.

“Yeah, I guess it is different,” he admitted, a slight smile touching his lips. “For one, it's not considered a scandal to sneak around and... kiss different girls.” He chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood, but as he spoke, he noticed her expression shift ever so slightly, a shadow crossing her face.

Her jaw tensed, her mouth set in a thin line. It was subtle, but enough to make Sebastian pause. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the change. He searched her face, hoping for a hint of what she might be feeling, but she just continued.

“Right,” she murmured, her voice carrying a slight edge he hadn’t expected. “You seem to be doing a lot of… sneaking around these days.” She glanced away, and he caught the barest flicker of something in her gaze—something sharp.

He cleared his throat, his voice careful, "So... what exactly is your question?"

Evangeline shifted slightly, clearly weighing her next words, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond him. After a moment, she looked back, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes that caught Sebastian off guard.

“Well,” she started slowly, a bit more guarded now, “I guess I was wondering… what are the rules? Or rather, what’s considered acceptable here? I know it sounds silly, but… I admit, I don't quite know what I'm doing half the time, and I just assume that Lysander knows what he’s doing,” she finished.

Sebastian felt a dull ache in his chest as Evangeline spoke, her voice so open and vulnerable as she admitted to her uncertainty in navigating their world. And that she was sharing this with him, of all people, only heightened the ache. Because here he was, watching her worry about navigating a relationship with someone else, with someone who had everything he wanted with her.

He took a steadying breath, doing his best to quell the twist of jealousy within him. “Right,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Well, I can certainly try to... explain things.” He paused, considering how to explain the wizarding world’s expectations, especially after everything she’d already seen at the Solstice Ball.

He began tentatively, "Besides the fact that friendships between men and women aren’t looked down upon, which you already know... intimate things aren't quite like the Muggle world either. It’s… well, people don’t expect you to keep a perfect reputation when it comes to affection.” He looked away briefly, rubbing the back of his neck, his own cheeks warming at the conversation. “That said, it’s something people try to keep private. Public displays—especially if they’re, um… premarital—are seen as a bit tasteless.”

Sebastian chanced a glance at her, his pulse quickening again at the way she was listening, intent and curious. She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“And it’s the same with more, um, physical things,” he continued, his voice quiet. “There’s this unspoken understanding—if it’s not flaunted, if nobody saw it, then it's inconsequential. It’s… a matter of discretion. But…” He hesitated, catching her gaze again, his own feeling more intense than he’d meant. “When it comes to something like premarital sex, that’s still frowned upon,” he said finally, feeling even more colour rise to his face. He'd never imagined himself ever even uttering the word 'sex' in Evangeline's presence. And when Sebastian dared a look back at her, her eyes were wide, listening closely, and he had to look away, feeling suddenly very aware of the space between them.

“So… it’s not like there’s this looming threat over my head, then?" She murmured, "The whole… ‘one wrong step and you’re ruined’ idea?”

Sebastian shook his head, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. “No, nothing like that. Intimate things are fine, even expected eventually… just not in public.”

She nodded slowly, processing his words. “So, privacy is key, then.”

“Exactly,” he replied, though he could feel that same dull ache intensify as he imagined her thinking this over in the context of her relationship with Lysander.

Sebastian forced himself onward, adding, “And as you already know, these expectations are even more important when attending formal events.” Sebastian’s voice softened as he explained, his gaze lingering on her face. “The Solstice Ball is a perfect example. It is expected that anyone attending keeps up appearances, shows a certain level of propriety. Even with all this supposed freedom, there are still standards.” He paused, "Not to mention the wizarding world's own courting season."

Evangeline frowned, a flicker of curiosity mingling with confusion in her gaze. “Courting season?”

Sebastian nodded, his tone becoming almost matter-of-fact to mask the vulnerability beneath his words. “Yes, in the summer after we graduate, people are expected to find a partner by then if they haven’t already. It’s not a rule, exactly, but… it’s encouraged. Families tend to host gatherings, and it’s… a bit like what you mentioned with the debutantes. Young people are formally introduced, and those looking for partners use it as a time to meet others with similar interests, background, family connections—all that.” He shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile on his face. “It’s all a bit stiff. And for families like Ominis's or Lysander's, it’s practically an expectation.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, but the bitterness slipped in at the end.

Evangeline looked down, her expression thoughtful, perhaps imagining herself amidst such an event. She shifted slightly, her fingers still tracing the fabric of his robe as if seeking comfort. “So… do people actually find love through this courting season?”

“Sometimes,” he replied with a small nod. “It’s mostly alliances and matches that benefit families, but there are real relationships that come from it. Some people find what they’re looking for, and others—well, they might settle or go their own way.”

Evangeline fell quiet, and Sebastian thought that might be the end of it. But then she turned those hazel eyes on him, a look he knew too well—a look that meant she was about to say something he’d rather she didn’t.

“So…” she started, her voice calm but edged with a spark of curiosity. “What about you?”

Sebastian froze, caught off guard. “What about me?”

She kept her gaze steady, undeterred. “You’re sneaking off with girls all the time so... What exactly are you doing with them?”

He felt his heart kick up a notch, and despite himself, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. She’d caught him, and for once, he was the one left stumbling over his words. “I… it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice casual. “Just a bit of harmless snogging."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by his attempt at nonchalance. “So, you’re not… doing anything else?” Her cheeks tinged pink as she asked, but her expression remained intent.

"I haven’t… I mean, I don’t— not usually." Sebastian stumbled over his words, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he tried to clarify himself.

Evangeline watched him, her gaze unyielding, as though she were dissecting every word he said. For some reason, he found himself wanting to assure her further, to make her understand that all his "sneaking around" was shallow, the girls were all fleeting things, lacking any real depth.

Evangeline’s gaze held steady, “So, you… you've seen girls naked then?”

Sebastian’s face flushed, and he looked away, struggling to find the words. “Well, I mean… yes. Once. Maybe twice…” He trailed off, feeling more awkward with each word, as though he were somehow confessing to a crime.

Evangeline’s expression remained carefully neutral, but Sebastian could see the way her fingers tightened around the edge of his robe, her knuckles whitening ever so slightly. She looked away, nodding as though processing his answer, though her face was impossible to read.

“Right,” she murmured softly, her tone light and nonchalant, but Sebastian could hear the faintest strain in her voice. “Well, I suppose it’s good to… explore and all that.”

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, and Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though he were standing on the edge of something he couldn’t quite grasp. Finally, in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood, he asked, “What about you, then? I mean… have you…?” His voice trailed off, his curiosity suddenly giving way to uncertainty. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know the answer, but the question hung in the air all the same.

She blinked, turning her gaze back to him, surprised by the question. Her cheeks flushed faintly as she considered him, but she didn’t look away. “Me?” she echoed, clearly stalling.

He nodded, something in him both desperately wanting and dreading her answer. “Yeah. I mean, you’re with Lysander… is it serious? How far have you gone?”

Evangeline hesitated, the question hanging between them like a fragile thread. Finally, she took a slow breath, her eyes flicking away before meeting his again. “Well… besides kissing, I haven’t really… done anything more.” Her voice was quiet, almost apologetic, as though she felt her answer might disappoint him. “Not with anyone.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened with an overwhelming sense of relief, but he quickly hid it, keeping his expression neutral.

Evangeline glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips, though her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “I suppose that must seem rather… tame to you.”

“No,” Sebastian said quickly, his voice firmer than he’d intended. “No, it doesn’t seem tame at all.” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words to reassure her.

Evangeline looked down, a faint, uncertain smile playing at her lips. “The truth is… I’m not even sure how to go further. In the Muggle world, no one talks about these things. It’s all… well, improper.” She paused, the vulnerability in her voice almost heartbreaking. “I just… never learned what I’m supposed to do, or even what I’d want to do.”

Sebastian’s mind reeled. Relief surged through him, quickly followed by a wave of something selfish, something he struggled to keep at bay as he pictured her innocence, her genuine uncertainty. The thought of her not knowing these things, of her confiding in hi about this made his heart race and his mind drift to places he tried to steer away from.

And he knew, despite his best intentions, that he was dangerously close to letting his own feelings slip, but he had to push those thoughts away, had to keep his own selfish fantasies under control.

"You... You don’t have to know everything," Sebastian managed, his voice a little rougher than he intended, and he quickly cleared his throat to steady himself. "It’s not like there’s some checklist or… set of instructions you’re meant to follow."

Evangeline looked at him, her brow furrowed, eyes scanning his face as though she were seeing him in a new light. “Then… how did you learn? I mean, you... seem to know a lot."

Sebastian felt his face warm, not entirely prepared for her question. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find a way to answer without sounding like he’d spent all his free time learning about such things. “Well, a lot of it just… comes from being in the Hogwarts dorms. You pick things up.” He laughed softly, realizing how strange it sounded. “When you’re around the same group of boys from age eleven onward, nothing’s off limits for long. Topics… come up.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “So it’s all just dormitory gossip, then?”

“Partly, yeah,” he admitted, smiling a little, though the truth was a bit more complicated. “But, there’s… more to it. There are books about this stuff."

She seemed to be digesting this, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Books?” she echoed, as if the idea had never occurred to her.

“Yeah, books,” he replied, trying not to laugh at the look on her face. "Tomes and Scrolls sells more than just dusty old tomes on proper wand techniques."

Evangeline’s eyes widened, a spark of both amusement and disbelief dancing in her gaze. “Wait… you’re telling me that the same place we go to buy standard spellbooks has books on—” she paused, her cheeks flushing as she lowered her voice, “—relationships?”

Sebastian grinned, enjoying her reaction far more than he should. “Oh, they’ve got everything,” he replied, barely suppressing a chuckle. “And not just basic advice, either. Some of it’s actually quite… detailed.”

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “And… you’ve actually read these?”

Sebastian crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair with a mock defensive expression. “I never said that,” he protested, though the color rising to his cheeks likely betrayed him. “Just because I know they’re there doesn’t mean I’ve read them cover to cover.”

“Oh, of course not,” she replied, her voice dripping with playful skepticism. “You've just flipped through them looking for a chapter on ‘How to Sneak Away with Girls Without Getting Caught’?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Please, I’d hardly need a book to tell me that,” he quipped, smirking as her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Anyway, you’re making it sound like I’m leading some kind of scandalous double life.”

She shrugged, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Well, from what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t be the only one thinking that.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Evie, that sounds suspiciously like jealousy.”

Evangeline's smile faltered for just a moment, an almost imperceptible shift that made Sebastian wonder if he’d struck a nerve. But then, just as quickly, her expression smoothed over, and she rolled her eyes, waving his comment away with a flick of her hand.

“Jealous? Of what exactly? I'm not the one having to keep my snogging limited to the confines of a closet."

Sebastian chuckled, feigning an air of defensiveness. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Some of the best conversations happen in closets, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” she replied dryly, arching an eyebrow.

Sebastian chuckled, marvelling at the way she matched his teasing so effortlessly, as if they were playing a familiar game only they understood. It was easy to lose himself in the warmth of her laughter, the light in her eyes. And it struck him as surreal, almost absurd, how the day had begun with such heavy shadows—the lesson on the Unforgivable Curses, the memories it had dredged up, her visible struggle to keep herself grounded. It was only half an hour ago that Evangeline had been deadly quiet, her gaze distant and haunted, as though revisiting every painful moment from their shared past. The weight of that memory still pressed at the edges of his thoughts, even as he sat there bantering with her like nothing had changed.

And yet, somehow, here they were—laughing, teasing each other.

It was strange but also reassuring, a reminder that they could always seem find comfort in each other, even after everything they’d been through.

“What?” Evangeline’s voice cut through his thoughts, a bemused smile tugging at her lips as she caught him staring.

Sebastian blinked, shaking himself back to the present. “Nothing,” he replied, though he could feel a small smile creeping onto his face. “Just… it’s odd, I suppose.”

“What is?”

He hesitated before letting out a huffed laugh, "Us."

Evangeline’s smile softened, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting his again, a look of understanding passing between them. She didn’t need him to explain further; she knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” she murmured, a warmth in her eyes that made his chest ache. “But odd suits us, I think. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if we were normal."

Sebastian’s smile grew, the warmth in his chest intensifying as he looked at her. “I think we left any hope for normalcy behind the first time we snuck out past curfew. Or maybe when we ran headfirst into that nest of Ashwinders.”

Evangeline laughed, her gaze brightening. “If I remember correctly, it was you who dragged me into that little adventure,” she teased, nudging his shoulder. “Though I suppose I did follow willingly enough.”

“See?” he grinned, crossing his arms. “Perfect partners in crime.”

Her eyes lingered on his for a moment, a flicker of something deeper passing between them before she shook her head with a smirk. “Alright, partner, I’m parched from all this reminiscing and self-reflection. What do you say we go get a butterbeer?”

Sebastian chuckled, relieved at her suggestion, “Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day."

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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thedustybunny · 1 year ago

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Chamomile Kisses - Chapter 8

Viktor arcane x Fem!Reader

The unexpected collision left them both in an awkward tangle, their bodies pressed together on the floor of Viktor's lab. The pain that radiated through his leg was evident in the lines of discomfort etched onto his face. (Y/n) winced as she quickly pushed herself up, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She moved off him, her apology tumbling out.

"I'm so sorry, Viktor," she muttered, her voice a mix of genuine concern and chagrin. "Are you okay?"

Viktor's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling for a moment, his jaw clenched as he endured the pain. He finally shifted his gaze to meet hers, his usual steely expression marred by a flicker of vulnerability. "I'll be fine," he responded curtly, his words betraying the discomfort he felt.

She extended her hand towards him, offering to help him up once again. He hesitated for a moment, then took her hand with a begrudging acknowledgment of her assistance. With their combined effort, he managed to get back on his feet, albeit with a noticeable stiffness in his movements.

Standing there, the tension between them was palpable, the aftermath of their unexpected collision hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. (Y/n) bit her lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she looked at him. For the first time, she saw past his sharp exterior and caught a glimpse of his vulnerability. It was a fleeting moment, but it left an impression on her.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she admitted softly, her voice laced with sincerity. "I may not like you, Viktor, but I don't wish you harm."

His expression remained guarded, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions she couldn't quite decipher. "Believe it or not, I don't wish you harm either," he finally responded, his words surprising her.

As they exchanged a rare moment of honesty, a sudden realization struck them both - they were trapped. The self-locking mechanism of the lab's door had activated, leaving them confined within the confines of Viktor's workspace. Panic briefly flitted across (Y/n)'s features, but she quickly composed herself.

"We're... stuck," she stated, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

Viktor's gaze turned towards the door, his jaw tightening as he processed the situation. He gave a curt nod, his pride preventing him from revealing any hint of concern. "Seems that way," he acknowledged, his tone clipped.

They exchanged a glance, the tension between them temporarily forgotten as the reality of their predicament settled in. The air between them felt charged once again, this time with a mixture of frustration and reluctant cooperation.

As the minutes ticked by, (Y/n) leaned against a nearby worktable, while Viktor perched himself on a stool, his cane resting beside him. Their conversation had shifted from bickering to an uneasy silence, the walls of their differences momentarily crumbling in the face of their shared confinement.

The events of the evening had taken an unforeseen turn, leaving them both vulnerable in more ways than one. As they waited for rescue, (Y/n) couldn't help but reflect on the complexities of their relationship, wondering if perhaps there was more to Viktor than met the eye. A glimmer of mutual understanding began to emerge, shattering the walls of animosity that had long stood between them.

The tense silence was eventually broken by a snide remark from (Y/n), her voice laced with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, trapped in your own lab, huh? Not quite how you envisioned your day, I'm sure."

Viktor shot her a withering glare, his lips curling into a derisive smirk. "At least I don't have to rely on others to get me out of this situation," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Oh, please, spare me the dramatics. I've gotten myself out of tougher spots than this."

The conversation had quickly devolved into their usual snarky banter, a familiar dynamic that seemed to be their default mode of interaction. (Y/n) couldn't help but be intrigued by how easily they fell into this pattern, even in their current predicament.

But as the minutes stretched on, the tension between them began to wane, and a flicker of curiosity prompted (Y/n) to ask a question that had been nagging at her. "So, about this self-locking mechanism... Why do you need it?"

Viktor sighed, leaning back against the wall, his gaze distant. "This room we're in," he gestured around them, "is a storage chamber for the hex crystals. It's equipped with a unique self-locking mechanism to ensure their security. When I entered earlier to work on the crystals alone, the door locked behind me."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by this piece of information. "Hex crystals, huh? What are they?"

Viktor's eyes flickered with a mixture of pride and frustration as he explained, "They're a breakthrough in energy generation. Priceless, and potentially revolutionary. They have the potential to reshape the world as we know it."

The revelation left (Y/n) slightly taken aback, her curiosity piqued even further. Before she could respond, the conversation lapsed into silence once again, the weight of their confined space becoming increasingly palpable.

(Y/n) rummaged through her bag, finally pulling out a small stash of snacks she had packed. As she opened a packet, her gaze flickered to Viktor, who was watching her with a mix of skepticism and indifference. She hesitated for a moment before tossing a snack his way.

He caught it deftly, examining it with a raised eyebrow. "What, trying to bribe me with food now?" he quipped, his tone biting.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, her voice devoid of any genuine malice. "No, just offering some sustenance. I doubt either of us wants to starve in here."

Viktor grumbled under his breath, but after a moment of contemplation, he finally took a bite of the offered snack. (Y/n) nodded in approval, then retrieved a bottle of water from her bag, taking a sip, then offering it to him.

Viktor's brows furrowed as he hesitated, clearly conflicted. He seemed to be grappling with the idea of sharing the same water bottle with her, a notion that likely clashed with his usual sense of personal space and boundaries. After a moment of inner struggle, he reached out and took the water bottle from her, muttering a reluctant "Thanks."

(Y/n) offered a small, wry smile, glad that he had finally relented. As he took a sip, their eyes briefly met, a fleeting moment of connection amidst their conflicting personalities. The silence in the room seemed less suffocating, replaced by a subtle sense of companionship born out of their shared circumstances.

As the hours dragged on, the cold within the confined space grew more pronounced. (Y/n)'s coat provided some protection, but she still shivered, her teeth occasionally chattering. She glanced over at Viktor, who was dressed in his usual attire – a tailored white jacket over a burgundy shirt, paired with dark trousers and polished shoes. The contrast between his attire and the cold environment was stark.

The biting cold of the night persisted, settling deep into their bones and making the cramped space feel even more unbearable. Hours stretched on, and (Y/n) couldn't help but notice Viktor's trembling form. His usually composed demeanor had given way to visible discomfort, accentuated by his lack of protection against the chill. Time seemed to drag its feet, and as one hour gave way to the next, the temperature dropped, intensifying their shared misery.

Glancing over at Viktor, (Y/n) couldn't deny the pang of empathy that tugged at her heart. The circumstances had created an unexpected sense of equality between them, however fleeting it might be.

As the cold became increasingly insufferable, she saw Viktor inching closer to her. The space that initially separated them had diminished, and now he was nearly pressed up against her. It was a silent acknowledgment of the shared need for warmth in this dire situation. Despite her lingering feelings of resentment, (Y/n) knew she had a slight advantage in terms of protection from the cold.

Summoning a small reserve of courage, she decided to bridge the gap even further. "You know, there's no point freezing to death here," she remarked, her voice laced with an attempt at nonchalance.

Viktor shot her a sidelong glance, his expression a mix of surprise and skepticism. "And what do you suggest?" he retorted, the bite in his tone suggesting he was ready for an argument.

"This," she replied, scooting closer until their shoulders touched. The sudden contact seemed to catch him off guard, his reaction a combination of startled irritation.

"You've got to be kidding me," Viktor muttered, but there was a hint of reluctant agreement in his voice.

"We're stuck in here together, Viktor. Might as well make it somewhat bearable," (Y/n) reasoned, trying to mask her own discomfort.

Their bickering continued for a moment, but the cold air soon extinguished the energy for argument. An unspoken understanding hung in the air – the frigid temperature had a way of humbling even the most stubborn of individuals.

After a moment, Viktor's huff of annoyance subsided, and he shifted slightly closer. "Fine, but don't expect me to enjoy this," he grumbled.

"Wouldn't dream of it," (Y/n) replied, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

And so, amidst their differences and the harsh circumstances, they found themselves pressed together, sharing body heat in a fragile truce against the cold.

The bone-chilling cold proved to be an unrelenting adversary, testing their endurance and resolve to the limit. Despite their close proximity, it wasn't enough to ward off the frigid air that seemed to seep into every corner of their confined space. (Y/n) knew a way to make this ordeal more bearable, but pride and lingering resentment held her back from making the suggestion.

As another hour passed, exhaustion began to set in, compounded by the numbing cold. (Y/n)'s longing for sleep grew stronger, yet she was acutely aware that sleep in these conditions was impossible. They continued to huddle together, shivering in the darkness.

The desperation for relief pushed her to speak up, her voice a mixture of fatigue and vulnerability. "Viktor," she began, her words almost a whisper amidst the cold, "Could you, just for today, put your hate for me aside?"

Her unexpected plea caught him off guard, rendering him momentarily speechless. He stammered, trying to find the right words to respond to her unprecedented request. "I, uh..."

"Please," she pressed, her tone earnest, "Just for today. Can you try not to hate me?"

The air seemed to thicken with tension as his internal struggle played out on his features. His response was abrupt, yet surprising. "I don't hate... you," he admitted, his voice laced with an unexpected vulnerability.

The admission caught her off guard, her surprise evident in her widened eyes and slightly parted lips. She was about to speak, but he swiftly interjected, his words an attempt to clarify. "I just hate what you do."

The declaration hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the gulf that still separated them. (Y/n) felt a mixture of conflicting emotions – relief at his slight concession, yet a pang of frustration that their differences continued to cast a shadow over any potential understanding.

The weight of their conversation settled between them, adding another layer of complexity to their already tangled dynamic. The cold, however, was an immediate concern that required action. Her question, soft yet loaded, hung in the air between them, making him contemplate the unfamiliar territory he was stepping into. After a beat, he gave a reluctant nod. "Fine." Swallowing her pride, (Y/n) shifted slightly, her movements slow and deliberate.

As she stood and removed her coat, a shiver ran through him, leaving him feeling exposed and cold in her absence. He watched, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in his eyes, as she returned and settled herself in front of him, snugly nestled between his legs. The coat draped over them both, providing a cocoon of warmth that seemed to envelop them.

A strangled gasp escaped his lips, a reflexive response to the suddenness of her action. He was taken aback, his heart racing, and he struggled to find his words amidst the jumble of his thoughts. The proximity was both unsettling and strangely comforting, an intimacy he hadn't experienced in a long time.

The softness of her scarf being draped around them added another layer of insulation, and as her arms wrapped around him, he felt a mixture of vulnerability and a strange sense of connection. He remained rigid, unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory. The warmth emanating from her, the gentle rhythm of her breathing against his chest, it all felt foreign yet oddly soothing.

As (Y/n) settled against him, the shared warmth between them was palpable, a stark contrast to the relentless cold that had been their constant companion. Looking down at her, he found himself caught off guard by the proximity they now shared.

Time seemed to blur as they sat in their shared cocoon, the silence punctuated only by the sound of their breathing and the occasional creaking of the building settling around them. Despite his initial unease, a sense of calm began to settle over Viktor. He found himself gradually relaxing, allowing his stiff posture to soften as he tentatively draped an arm around her, his hand settling hesitantly on her shoulder.

The touch was almost tentative, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile connection they were forging. In the midst of the cold and darkness, something unexpected was happening – a thawing of barriers and a flicker of understanding that neither of them could have foreseen.

As time passed, Viktor gave way to a gradual relaxation. His arms hesitated before finding their way around her, drawing her close to him. He pressed his chin to the top of her head, his nuzzling an instinctive response to the enveloping warmth that grew stronger with every passing moment. The cold that had once seeped into their bones was now replaced by the shared comfort of their closeness, and neither of them shivered any longer.

Viktor's rational mind battled against the unexpected warmth that was starting to spread within him. He frowned at his own vulnerability, at the way her presence was affecting him more than he would have liked. But his arms remained around her, a silent admission that he had let his guard down, if only slightly.

Amidst the stillness, a soft and barely audible snore reached his ears. He looked down to see her peaceful expression as she slept in his arms, her vulnerability laid bare in slumber. The sight tugged at something deep within him, a mixture of emotions he struggled to untangle. Did he really hate her as much as he claimed? The question echoed in his mind, casting doubt on the conviction he had held onto for so long.

A slight twitch from her in her sleep prompted him to hold her just a bit tighter, his grip protective despite his internal struggle. He couldn't deny the unexpected comfort he found in holding her close, nor could he ignore the unsettling thought that perhaps his feelings towards her were more complex than mere disdain.

Viktor's thoughts circled, warring within him as he continued to cradle her in his arms. He was torn between the convictions of his mind and the emotions that were beginning to seep into his heart. But even as he battled against this internal conflict, fatigue weighed heavily on him, pulling him into the embrace of sleep.

Soon, his own breathing evened out, and he found himself succumbing to slumber. The warmth of her smaller frame nestled into his own provided an unexpected comfort, and as the night deepened, the boundaries that had once separated them blurred even further. In the stillness of the lab, they slept on, entwined in each other's embrace, both grappling with the unspoken tension that had begun to shift and change between them.

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x you #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor x reader #chamomilekisses #viktor arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn

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sikkkko · 4 months ago

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Blurred Lines. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Chapter 07: the first talk. ( 🖊️ )

where : yizhuo yn and park sunghoon were not only a couple, but the bestest of friends, an inseparable pair; both deeply in love with each other. a love as intense as their personalities. despite their deep connection, they were young and ambitious, and the pressures of life pulled them apart. the couple mutually decided to break up, hoping to carve out their futures separately. ¿what happens when they inevitably end up in the same friend group again? ¿will they fight for the once strong bond or will they continue their lives separately?

Masterlist Previous Next

the cold evening breeze hit yn as she stepped out of the unconventional movie theater at jay’s house, her heart pounding with anticipation. she spotted sunghoon waiting by the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pockets, head lowered as if in deep thought. his silhouette under the dim kitchen light, he seemed almost surreal, like a mirage she couldn’t quite believe was there.

she hesitated for a moment, her mind racing back to the texts they’d just exchanged. the words felt heavy, yet strangely comforting. sunghoon had always been a man of few words, but when he did speak, his honesty was raw, almost brutal. she appreciated that about him, even when it hurt.

he looked up as he heard her approach, their eyes locking for the first time in what felt like forever. yn’s breath caught in her throat. "hey," she greeted softly, offering a small, tentative smile.

"hey," he replied, his voice a low murmur. there was a long pause, each of them seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

"i didn’t mean to interrupt your night," sunghoon finally said, breaking the silence. "i just... i couldn’t wait any longer."

"i’m glad you reached out," yn admitted, feeling the tension between them ebb slightly. "honestly why i came to korea, needed to talk to you. been waiting for this."

sunghoon nodded, the corners of his lips twitching into a sad smile. "i know. and it’s my fault for pushing you away."

sighed, glancing down at the pavement. "it wasn’t just you. I played my part too. i mean i disappeared, i get why you would be upset."

he took a step closer, the proximity making yn’s heart race. "yeah. but still, i could’ve handled things better. i should’ve handled things better."

she could see the remorse in his eyes, the way he carried the weight of their past on his shoulders. it was clear that he had spent countless nights reflecting on everything that had happened, just as she had.

"why did you push me away, hoon?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. not one notice of the way she just called him hoon, this time right at his face.

sunghoon looked down, his expression conflicted. "i just, i thought... i thought it would be easier for both of us. you were moving on with your life, doing amazing things, and i didn’t want to hold you back. but i was wrong. all I did was hurt you, and hurt myself in the process." yn felt a pang of sadness in her chest, hearing the pain in his voice. she wanted to reach out, to hold him and tell him that it was okay, but she knew that they needed to have this conversation first.

"i was hurt, sunghoon. really hurt," she confessed, her voice trembling. "but I never stopped caring about you. i just didn’t know how to reach you anymore. after our breakup i lost sense of control over myself and life in general. i needed an escape and when you were that for me it was hard to look for one elsewhere. my parents thought it would be a good idea to go back to china, forget all about everything and move on. but i couldn’t. i didn’t want to, but i thought it was for the best, the best way to set you free. “

he nodded, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself. "i didn’t know. and I’m so sorry for that. i was too wrapped up in my own fears and insecurities to see how much you were hurting too. but we’re here now, and I want to make things right."

there was a sincerity in his voice that yn hadn’t heard in a long time. it was as if the walls he had built around himself were finally crumbling, revealing the vulnerable, caring person underneath.

"how do we move forward from this?" yn asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "we’ve been through so much, and I don’t want to pretend that everything is okay when it’s not.”

sunghoon took another step closer, closing the distance between them. he reached out, gently taking her hand in his. the warmth of his touch sent a wave of emotions crashing over her, and she had to fight back tears.

"i don’t have all the answers, ynnie," he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "but i know that i don’t want to lose you again. i don’t want to lose us. i’m willing to put in the work, to be better, if you’ll give me the chance."

yn looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt, but all she saw was determination and sincerity. she could feel the walls around her own heart beginning to crumble, the hurt and anger she had been holding onto slowly dissipating.

"what about yunjin? she asked, afraid of the answer she was about to hear.

he took a deep breath, and nodded. "i don’t know anything about her, she was just someone i thought would get me through this heartache through pleasure. but since you’ve been gone life itself has no sense of meaning, purpose or pleasure."

they stood there for a moment, the silence between them no longer filled with tension, but with a sense of mutual understanding. It was as if the weight of their past was finally beginning to lift, allowing them to see the possibilities of what could be.

Taglist: @onlyhyunjin @iren3luvv @velvetkisscs @hoonatic @mitchii @do-you-remember-summer-127

#enhypen smau recs #jake sim smau #kpop smau #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smau #sim jaeyun #sunghoon smau #enhypen texts #jake sim smut #enhypen

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eeldritchblast · 10 months ago

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(Belated) WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @razrogue ❤️ - here's a snippet of my Marin x Wyll x Karlach Avernus fic I'm very slowly working on!

Wyll was the type of person that you could easily tell when he was having a nightmare. Even Marin, who was notoriously bad at reading people, could see how pained his face was. Marin wondered what exactly bothered his sleeping self so much that he would look as hurt as he did, but didn’t have to wonder very long; she knew Wyll well enough by now to know it was Mizora. It was always Mizora. The cambion hunted them for sport for months now, sending her many minions after them, and on at least two occasions, bothered to show up herself. They had been lucky thus far, but Wyll couldn’t escape her in his dreams. Not when she still had a hold on him and his whereabouts, as long as he had his sending stone eye. According to Wyll, removing it was impossible, at least for the time being. The same magic that kept it lubricated also kept it firmly in place, and Mizora in contact with him anytime she pleased. “I hate seeing him like that, but I don’t want to wake him,” Karlach quietly voiced Marin’s own thoughts too. The tall tiefling woman looked even taller when she stretched out, her bones cracking in relief from laying on the hard ground. She was supposed to be sleeping as well, as it was Marin’s turn on watch. “He needs the sleep.” “So do you,” Marin said. “Nah,” Karlach waved it off, and admittedly, she was probably handling Avernus the best of the three of them—physically, at least. With her infernal engine heart pumping well and good, she barely got tired at all. Marin on the other hand, as a water genasi, felt like the dry, hot air was constantly sucking away her life. It made being intimate with Karlach a little more difficult, because she just didn’t have the energy to keep up. But Karlach was as patient as she was capable of being. Wyll stirred, and for a moment Marin cursed them for talking too loud, but he still did not wake. Marin watched Karlach slowly shuffle herself closer to him, and wipe at his forehead. Even in his sleep, somehow the touch was soothing to Wyll, as his jaw and fists unclenched. “He loves you, you know,” Marin whispered. “I know,” Karlach nodded with a soft smile, then looked up to meet Marin’s face. “He loves you, too.” The feeling was mutual. Marin thought back to the night she and Wyll danced together; the tension that hung in the air when their lips were so close to meeting. She wanted to kiss him so badly…

#wip wednesday

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solomons-poison · 2 years ago

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my mind is going in circles right now

okok whats ur opinion on ex hubby sol and mephisto

i always type sol btw because it’s awkward writing his full name (dk whyy)

with mephisto there would be angst potential, maybe he let his pride get in his way and ended up hurting you along with his pride, he doesnt rlly believe in ‘divorce’ so he’ll try to act like nothing is wrong but inside of him its killing him, hes in denial, disbelief of himself and the whole situation

with sol i cant rlly imagine divorcing him (maybe bc im biased with him) but for the sake of this, there would be so much angst potential like so much, the first human in a very very long time he had deeply loved until it was all shattered by his own hands

jskajskaakao

Ohhhhhhh yes ex-husband angst, it just hurts so good.... (Sol is under the cut, this just got very long lol; also unintentionally wrote this as reader suggesting the divorce, cause both guys seem like ride-or-die with their partners to me and I cant see them bringing it up without good cause...)

Divorcing Mephisto would absolutely be so dramatic and very painful. He's either going to explode on you, yelling and gesturing wildly and maybe even making baseless accusations against you (that he will 100% regret later and you'll never forget what he said). Or he'll suddenly get unnaturally quiet/ignore or avoid you. Even if you need to get documents signed or need to talk about how to break up assets, etc, he avoids you at all costs. The only thing that might turn him around is if people start rumors about you or your relationship (or lack thereof), because he still cares about you and doesn't want your name slandered like that by others.

He'll definitely be in denial for a while, and hurt you that way by saying things like "you don't mean it/want this", "just give it some time and you'll see you're wrong". He absolutely won't listen to you until you have to get a third party involved that he can't ignore, like Diavolo. It is a super messy affair...

There would be so much tension between you two, and if the divorce is for anything other than falling out of love, I can bet there'd be a lot of instances of angry sudden makeout sessions or breakup sex tbh. If you're not careful, you might get stuck in a cycle of hookups/dating again and then sudden breakup.

—

Now, divorcing Solomon... He definitely isn't explosive like Mephisto would be. I can see him being very quiet about the whole ordeal, but the pain and sadness is so evident in his eyes. His smiles afterwards are all strained and forced. Cause you know that you were the light in his life, the color in his world that he had initially lost after becoming immortal.

I think initially, you two would come to an understanding about the divorce, it would be a mutual agreement with little argument or fights. But he will ask for some time to think about things beforehand (meaning time for you to think about it too). And don't get him wrong, he is absolutely upset about the whole ordeal. But it's not your fault that you feel the way you do, you have a right to be happy and he wants to support that. But it's definitely painful to him.

I think even after becoming a full fledged sorcerer, you two would still have a kind of mentor-student relationship since he's so knowledgeable about spells and magic. So during/after the divorce, he may want to stop teaching you because being in close quarters with you is too much to stand. As much as he wants to be by your side, it's so bad for his own mental health and he'll put distance between you two.

—

Like I said, these are kind of focused on reader wanting the divorce, for whatever reasons, just cause I can't really see either Mephisto or Solomon ever wanting to divorce, they'd try everything to make things right again. But if you have thoughts about it going the other way, I'm very interested. Sorry for the word vomit, I've been really into the ex-husband angst vibe recently and it's so bad for me lol

#mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #solomon x reader #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #sad thoughts rn :(#˗ˏˋ꒰ minx replies ꒱

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idvconfessions · 3 days ago

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Alva and Luca make a very cute couple with their mix of heavy background included. They're a dynamic I love to explore. The story held by Alva, Luca, Ann, and Tracy is sharing a theme of trauma relating to the father or family and the characters we are given are examples of how that trauma and pain can manifest in people.

We know Alva himself struggled with his home life and family, and Luca had the same struggle with his father which Alva came to HATE, mind you. The two of them share a pain together that if they could properly talk to each other, Alva no longer being avoidant of the past and face his "darkness." He could have a very productive time with Luca. To actually talk to Luca about what his father had done as a way to console him and Luca to show Alva just how terrible his father was could be a mutual reveal for the two of them and draw them closer.

I love dynamics of two characters who are traumatized by similar or the same thing coming to care and love for one another to heal the other's wounds that were created. Alva and Luca embody that in every single way, even sharing the same scars. Watching the two slowly relearn the other by tracing their footsteps and the marks of the other's body is something that has me on my hands and knees. To be able to trace the other's shape to relearn every part of the other that was forgotten due to a horrific accident is so... I love them so much.

To watch their tension boil over the past and then watch that boiling pot slowly simmer as they realize that the other is just as hurt and just as traumatized as they are. That they are not so different, so polarized. A tenderness being exposed from two people who wore their hearts on their sleeves and got burned. So paranoid from the past they had they hurt each other, when they were never the target of their pain. Bitterness of the past is like a venom to them both and it is what made them hurt one another, but that same pain can bring them together and I just. I NEED IT!

I think about Alva obscuring Luca's location from the others in his letter so much. Enough care to hide him from a group that Alva could see as dangerous even though they are his "new family." He still wanted to protect Luca. Just as much as Luca wanted to protect himself, Alva can see he is a terrified young man that's cornered. Being the hand that can bring Luca out of the dark and console him and provide him a warmth and comfort that he's needed for so long is everything to me. Alva being able to see himself in Luca and wanting to protect it, the way that no one protected him.

The mix of shame and desire pre accident in the ship is one of my favorite flavors, pinning attraction to the other that goes unspoken on because of a want to follow society's norms and Alva's connection to his wife. I love a closeted gay man Alva, and I believe he does care for his wife but his heart is not there, and Luca was a spark that set his long cold heart on fire [haha blazing heart b tier mention and also how Winter Cicada wanted to be the warmth to melt Warden]. A fire that alva tried to kill but never could, so much so he became critical of Luca in a harsh way that ended up hurting Luca, a sensitive young man. Luca's persistence is both very attractive to Alva but also very concerning, torn between the two. Luca is a kind gentleman, we've seen that many times over that he's polite and humble and kind compared to most IDV characters. Paranormal detective even went out of his way to protect Polun in the crystal palace, despite doing such a thing risking his credibility and job. He didn't care about that at all, only doing the right thing for someone even if it bended the rules, and Alva is the opposite who will follow the rules strictly even if they hurt others. [Seen in this year's summer event and Warden]

Alva is challenged by Luca in many ways, but also uplifted, and that challenge to all he believes in an Alvaluca/lucalva dynamic is a strong source of attraction. He makes Alva free, free from himself, and Alva grounds Luca, giving him security and reliability that he NEEDS. Luca and Ann are both characters who have strong devotion and loyalty, and Alva is a character with very weak devotion. He does not practice what he preaches and watches the people he came to hurt so badly be what he pretended to be. Devoted, dedicated, and passionate people who never run away or leave their dreams nor connections, while Alva did nothing but run and burn every bridge and watched others suffer because of his selfishness.

Alva babygirl respectfully you are the problem but I love you and you need Luca balsa to fix you, it just won't be a gentle one. Luca was the one who broke Alva's perpetual dream, Luca SHATTERED the shackles that Alva was in, stuck in a monotonous cycle in his own misery with no escape. Luca gave him the key he needed, even if the door it opened was death. Luca was his motivation, his spark, his driving desire to abandon his instinctive selfishness to do the most selfless act of his life, being self sacrifice to protect another person.

Realizing just how valuable and loved something is moments before he lost it and giving everything to protect it is likely what caught his god's gaze. I'm sure Luca himself would not be angry or bitter at Alva, considering post accident he does not show feeling anger to Alva, he can not fully remember him but I feel Luca understands in his mind his anger was not to Alva, but to his own father. [Hence me mentioning that Alva and Luca are poisoned by their past, and it makes them lash out at each other.]

Okay I've rambled enough I just love alvaluca with all my being and I wish for others to see it and see the perspective I have for them to consider them. I love them SO much.

They're not incestous by the way, if you genuinely believe that your brain is made of rocks. I'm serious. Admit it's a headcanon and move on, everyone with a functioning brain can see that many use the "found-family" trope as an excuse to be miserable bullies and nothing else.

Anon confession continues in two more asks:

“I forgot to add Alva and luca's new height difference after Alva's revival LOL

Luca being HORRIBLY flustered by how big Alva is now, feeling his long hands and his boney knuckles, caressing the cold skin and looking up at a tower of a man. Depending on what time it is for the relationship, it can either feel overbearing and scrutinizing or comforting and protecting. Something to both admire and to fear. It gets Luca flustered very very quickly and he will often kiss Alva's hand to comfort or ease Alva's nerves.

When they're cuddling I always imagine Luca lays to Alva's side, and Alva either lays straight like a dead body or curls up like a kitty cat and there's no in between. Alva has trouble sleeping so he'll often look over Luca and hold him like he'll somehow go missing in the night.

Another one is Luca figuring out ways to be at the same level as Alva and finding creative ways to pull Alva down or bring himself up. One of which is pulling him down by his rosary or sitting up on a desk to greet him. Alva always lowers himself whenever Luca is wanting his attention in some way, long neck and all. More neck space ALSO means more places to kiss for Luca. Alva is very shy romantically and will accept Luca's advanced silently, but he ultimately wants control over the bedroom. He just lets Luca have his fun with him.”

“I think that Luca is just really into older guys or just more mature people. Both physically, socially, and mentally.

He'd find the security and grounding of an older partner very comforting, someone with more experience that he can trust himself in the arms of if something goes wrong. Someone who's not wreckless and immature and fleeting like his family. He'd seek the opposite of what hurt him in romance.”

#identity v #idv #idv confessions #idv luca #luca balsa #idv alva #alva lorenz #alvaluca

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thebestfriendstoloverstrope · 2 years ago

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i had a big ole inspiration strike in the shower and thought, what if S5 took the interruption trope that the stranger writers love so much for byler but made it vecna? ok bc let's say vecna's watching will (bc he is) and he will definitely try to thwart any character progression will could potentially make that would enable will to grow stronger (and more capable of defeating vecna)... and let's also say that ever since the big rift opened up, micro-fissures in the ground keep opening up randomly, which means you always have to be on your guard bc you never know when a mini rift will open up and make you fall into the upside down...

and let's say mike and will finally (after many episodes of mutual pining and building tension) have their Love Confession moment, and it's building up to it, and after a long conversation of them skirting around the point, will finally finds the courage to softly tell mike, "i think, for me... it's always been you" (with HEAVY romantic implications), and mike looks at him both with so much soft surprise but also so much hope, and mike steps closer to will, placing his hand on his cheek, and begins to say something back, but he doesn't make it past will's name because, SUDDENLY, they both startle as the ground begins to split apart beneath them, and their hands find each other's and they FRANTICALLY try to run away but then a vine lashes out of the upside down and winds itself around will's ankle, yanking him out of mike's grip and dragging him across asphalt into the rift, and mike nearly fell as will got pulled away for him so he's scrambling to get back on his feet, screaming "WILL!" and running after him, trying to grab him, as will cries out to mike and reaches out for mike's hands, but mike's fingertips barely graze will's before will disappears into the upside down, and we get a shot of mike from below as he screams will's name into where he disappeared into the gate

and THEN let's say, an episode later, will is facing off vecna in the upside down, but he isn't succeeding, and vecna's got him suspended in the air as the vines slither up will's body, wrapping themselves around him as they aim to shove themselves down will's throat again, and will is struggling so hard but this feels like this is it and tears are escaping out of tightly shut eyes and it HURTS and he's been in so much pain for so long, and maybe this is the end, and then!

THEN!

out of nowhere, vecna gets blasted away, and the impact breaks his concentration, so the vines release their hold on will and will falls, landing on his side with a gasp, and his eyes fly open to see mike, molotov cocktail in his hand, fury in his eyes, and mike mutters "eat shit, asshole" as he throws another cocktail at vecna. and it won't be enough, will knows that, but all he can think about is that mike is here, and god, does he love him, and as soon as the cocktail leaves mike's hand his gaze flies to will, and mike starts running straight at him, and will stumbles to his feet, and he lets out a "mike," but he can't get any further than that because mike's reached him and he's kissing him. he's got both hands cupped tenderly around will's jaw and he's pulling will's face closer to his and mike's kissing him. and it's all will can do to sob against mike's beautiful lips and bury his own hands into mike's hair, tugging him impossibly closer. and they kiss. they kiss, and they kiss, and will cries, and they kiss some more, and then, too soon, mike's pulling away, leaning his forehead against will's. will fights to catch his breath as mike asks, "you ok?" in the tone of voice he saves for will alone, thumbing away at the tear streaks down will's face, and will just breathes out a laugh. "never better," he replies, and mike laughs too, affectionately brushing his nose against will's.

they breathe the same air for a moment, basking in their finally actualized love, when mike blurts out, "me too", like he's finishing a conversation, and will just blinks at him, confused. "it's always been you for me, too." mike smiles down at him so fondly, and will feels himself tearing up again, his newfound joy so at odds with the hopelessness he felt moments before, and it swells up in him like the dawn breaking, and he doesn't know if he has the space within him to keep this happiness contained. "always has been, and always will," mike confesses into the space between him, and will laughs wetly, cheeks hurting at how big he's beaming, before lifting his face back up to kiss mike again. mike grins against will's lips, then kisses him more and more and more.

will never wants him to stop.

#and then we cut to the party (who joined mike into the ud) who look on in shock #and then dustin breaks the silence by shouting “oh my god it all MAKES SENSE”#and then lucas goes “wdym it makes sense?? where did thid come from??”#and then dustin goes on a huge rant about how mike's behavior about the byers leaving never added up #especially considering he was always complaining about not being able to call even though dustin KNEW mike was getting letters from el #but even then mike never freaked out about el the way he always has about will #no offense el but... it makes sense #and el just smiles and says “no. it does make sense.”#also i headcanon that el knows by now that mike loves will bc when she initiated their breakup she told mike “friends don't lie”#and she was definitely trying to redirect mike“s understanding of where his affections truly lie #anyway rant over #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler s5 #byler fic #kinda #will's love for mike goes hand in hand with his ability to defeat vecna #the more he and mike solidify and embrace their love for each other #the more capable will becomes of defeating vecna #hence vecna's interruption #ok rant truly over now

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mylittleredgirl · 2 years ago

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🚀 dear space swap creator 🚀

thank you for whatever you will make for me! i hope you're excited about whatever we matched on.

i'm pretty easily delighted and like being surprised by things i did not consider, so you are welcome to take my suggestions and prompts as random inspiration or pitch them entirely in favor of whatever you want to create!

this letter is just a rewrite of my requests, but with the general likes/dislikes broken out in bullet points to be more legible.

anonymous asks are on for this account, so feel free to ask questions if you want! (& i forgot to write this in my main request, but in case anyone else is here from the exchange, treats are always loved!)

general things i love:

happy or hopeful endings

episode-related fic

pining (especially respectful no-i’m-definitely-NOT-jealous pining)

hurt/comfort (especially oh-my-god-you're-not-dead)

friendship & family fic

canon divergence

complications

5-times fic

anywhere in/post canon is fine but i do have a special love of early-season things in just about every show

all ratings welcome

i tend to really love all canon characters, so feel free to include friends and relations in the fic that aren't directly part of my requests

kinks enjoyed:

soft dom/sub (bondage & praise yes, pain & shaming no)

aliens made them do it (or equivalent)

overindulgence (food, drinks, whatevs)

masturbation (mutual, pining, voyeuristic, whatevs)

body image/weight gain/aging/body worship

i’ve never said no to a quality blow job or hand job fic

sweet i-love-you sex works for me too i'm not picky

general things i do NOT love:

permanent character death

hurt no comfort

crossovers except within the extended canon universe (crossovers between star trek series are welcome)

historical or supernatural AUs (no pride-and-prejudice or zombies)

supernatural elements are actually fine (like telepathy, psychic powers, soulmate stuff, etc) but i specifically want to avoid zombies & vampires

bashing of canon past relationships or other characters (if a character loved somebody else in canon, thumbs down to the "i never really loved them" trope). except sam carter's collection of terrible exes in stargate, i can live with that.

fandoms requested:

stargate atlantis

i'm equally fine with fic set in seasons 1-3, fics where "that just didn't happen," and AUs where elizabeth gets rescued! in rescue AUs i'm fine with "came back wrong" or suffering along the way as long as at her core she's elizabeth and it ends in a hopeful or happy way :)

some prompt ideas/things i think about in this fandom:

john and the challenge of giving/receiving affection or Having A Feeling in general

elizabeth should get to go off-world more

a little surprise telepathy/alien bonding rituals/interesting reactions to alien booze could do everyone some good

i’m always here for fix-it, hurt/comfort, and recovery fics.

stargate sg-1

mini!otp (clone sam/jack): i love them with some understandable existential angst, the tension between what they have lost and this new life they have, navigating a relationship when they spent so long NOT being in a relationship…

some ideas/things i think about with them:

i love the "this used to be normal but now it feels different" kind of injury or hurt/comfort trope for those two.

high school era is great, but i’m also really curious about what happens to them later -- how is it to be 20 or 25, when they were cloned at 15? at what point does this life feel like their own? are they still connected with the SGC? do they want to be?

pairing-specific DNWs: clone sam & jack changing their first names. i usually prefer fics where just sam & jack have been cloned, rather than it becoming an entire high-school AU.

classic sam/jack:

i loveeee episode-related fic (canon compliant or canon divergent!). i'm currently obsessed with "desperate measures" so i always prompt that one, but any episode is great, particularly seasons 1-8 since i haven't gotten to 9-10 yet!

piniiiiing especially if they mutually have to acknowledge it by the end

this pairing is always good for amtdi

pairing-specific DNWs: unexpected pregnancy or babyfic

star trek: picard

soji & kestra or soji & elnor

soji asha my beloved!!

i would love for her to heal, and i especially love "nepenthe" and how the troi-riker home would be such a perfect place for her to heal! and kestra, deanna, and will have their own things they're healing from, so i love the idea of this little family and was excited to see this tag in the tagset.

i have never really thought about soji & elnor's relationship, but it's a cool idea! for a big-idea kind of fic, what if they hadn't been left behind (effectively) in season two? for a smaller-idea kind of fic, what if they helped each other choose their next path in between seasons one and two? (either the direction they ultimately went in canon, or divergence of your choice…)

star trek: voyager

b'elanna/kes is a rarepair delight! with voyager i love everyone and am happy for any kind of canon divergence that keeps the family together (so if you choose to write kes staying into s4 and beyond, that's fine!)

kes has no preconceptions about klingons, so how does that affect how b'elanna sees herself?

anything at all to do with kes's powers

i've been thinking about kes aging, and how b'elanna's abandonment issues might bump up against a friendship or relationship with someone who she will probably outlive by quite a while...

i'm deeply convinced that the kes we see in "fury" is from a mirror universe (maybe not THE mirror universe, but maybe!) so that's an idea, but i would also be very happy to ignore "fury" entirely because it hurts me.

star trek: enterprise

i'm so shocked and delighted to see hoshi and travis show up in the tagset! i used to love them back in the day and genuinely thought i was the only one. they are SO SWEET in the tiny moments they have alone together, and would love to see anything you have to offer for them as friends or lovers or anything in between. some ideas off the top of my head:

something to do with her time recovering from her experience on the xindi weapon

five times hoshi and travis were alone (and/or in command) on the bridge

they should get to save the day once in a while, don't you think?

trip/t'pol prompt ideas:

t'pol lets trip help her in her ongoing recovery

how is it for them to be either on vulcan or on earth as a couple for the first time?

TELEPATH SEX TELEPATH SEX

trip survives his injuries in these are the voyages and that brings them back together

---

thank you again! i hope something in here inspires you (or inspires you to ignore it and do your own thing). see you on the flip side!

#dear author #space swap

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brooksidecounseling1 · 2 months ago

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Overcoming Challenges Together: Couples Therapy in Provo

Relationships, while deeply rewarding, come with their own set of challenges. Life transitions, differing communication styles, stress, and emotional needs can sometimes create distance between partners. When left unaddressed, these issues can grow into significant obstacles that threaten the stability of a relationship. Fortunately, couples therapy offers a pathway to overcome these challenges, strengthen your bond, and ensure a healthy, lasting connection.

In Provo, couples facing a variety of difficulties turn to therapy to help them rebuild, repair, and reinvest in their relationships. At Brookside Counseling, we believe in the power of partnership and provide couples with the tools they need to navigate life's inevitable challenges together. In this post, we’ll explore the common struggles couples face, how therapy can help, and the long-term benefits of working through challenges with the support of a professional therapist.

Common Challenges Couples Face

Whether you've been together for years or are still in the early stages of your relationship, the road ahead can be filled with challenges. While some struggles may be temporary, others can become deeply ingrained if not properly addressed. Recognizing common challenges is an important first step toward understanding how therapy can support your relationship.

1. Communication Issues

One of the most frequent challenges in relationships is poor communication. Couples often struggle with expressing their thoughts, feelings, and needs in a way that their partner can hear and understand. Misunderstandings and assumptions can escalate tensions, leading to frustration, arguments, or emotional distance.

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Stonewalling: Withdrawing from the conversation or emotionally shutting down.

Defensiveness: Responding to criticism by protecting oneself instead of listening.

Criticism: Using blame or accusations instead of discussing the issue at hand.

Contempt: Showing disrespect or disdain for one’s partner, often through sarcasm, mocking, or eye-rolling.

Improving communication is a key focus of Couples Therapy Provo, as it creates a foundation of mutual respect and understanding.

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Trust is a cornerstone of any healthy relationship, but when it’s broken, it can be incredibly difficult to rebuild. Trust issues can stem from infidelity, dishonesty, or broken promises. The emotional toll of betrayal can lead to anxiety, insecurity, and suspicion. Many couples who experience infidelity or a breach of trust feel like they’re stuck in a cycle of hurt and resentment.

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Over time, couples can grow apart emotionally, especially when they’re overwhelmed by daily stressors such as work, family obligations, or raising children. Emotional intimacy can suffer when partners no longer share their thoughts, feelings, or desires with each other. This lack of connection can lead to feelings of loneliness, frustration, and dissatisfaction within the relationship.

Therapy can help couples rediscover their emotional connection, deepen their bond, and reconnect on a deeper, more vulnerable level. Couples learn to express their needs and feelings, create more quality time together, and foster empathy and compassion.

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Every couple will experience conflict, but how these conflicts are handled can make or break a relationship. Some couples have difficulty resolving disagreements constructively, which can result in escalating arguments or unresolved tension. Without healthy conflict resolution skills, issues can snowball, leading to long-term resentment.

In Couples Therapy Provo, you’ll learn how to approach disagreements in a healthy way. Therapists guide couples through techniques like:

Active listening: Ensuring both partners feel heard without judgment.

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Effective conflict resolution helps couples navigate the inevitable disagreements in relationships while maintaining mutual respect.

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Major life changes, such as having children, moving to a new city, or career changes, can put immense strain on a relationship. These transitions can lead to stress, emotional exhaustion, and shifts in priorities, which sometimes create tension or feelings of imbalance between partners.

Therapy provides a safe space for couples to process life changes and find strategies for adapting to these transitions together. It also helps couples manage stress, avoid becoming overwhelmed, and support each other as they navigate new circumstances.

How Couples Therapy Can Help

Couples therapy offers numerous advantages when it comes to overcoming relationship challenges. Working with a trained therapist can help you identify underlying issues, improve communication, and develop healthier patterns of interaction. Here are some key ways therapy can support couples through difficult times:

1. Developing Healthy Communication Skills

One of the primary goals of Couples Therapy Provo is to improve communication. A skilled therapist will help you learn how to communicate openly and effectively without resorting to blame or defensiveness. You'll learn how to listen actively, express yourself clearly, and show empathy for your partner’s perspective.

By fostering healthy communication, couples therapy can prevent minor disagreements from escalating into major conflicts and help partners feel truly heard and understood.

2. Building Conflict Resolution Tools

Couples therapy equips partners with the skills needed to navigate conflicts in a productive way. Instead of avoiding arguments or letting them spiral out of control, therapy teaches couples how to approach disagreements in a way that promotes understanding and resolution.

Techniques like active listening, reflective responses, and assertiveness training can help couples stay calm and respectful, even during difficult conversations. Therapy also encourages finding win-win solutions that satisfy both partners’ needs.

3. Rebuilding Trust and Forgiveness

Trust issues, whether stemming from infidelity or other breaches, can create deep emotional wounds. Therapy provides a neutral space where both partners can process the pain, rebuild trust, and work toward forgiveness. A therapist helps each person understand their role in rebuilding trust, learn how to express their needs moving forward, and gradually restore confidence in each other.

Rebuilding trust is a gradual process, but therapy helps partners create a plan for healing and moving forward together.

4. Strengthening Emotional Intimacy

Emotional intimacy is essential for a strong and lasting connection. Through therapy, couples can learn how to express their feelings more openly, share vulnerabilities, and understand each other’s emotional needs. By fostering empathy and compassion, couples therapy helps partners reconnect and rebuild the closeness that may have been lost.

As emotional intimacy deepens, couples find that their physical connection improves as well. When partners feel truly seen and heard on an emotional level, the relationship becomes more satisfying overall.

5. Addressing Underlying Issues

Sometimes, relationship challenges are a symptom of deeper, unresolved issues. These could include childhood trauma, unresolved grief, or past relationship experiences that continue to influence how you relate to your partner. A therapist can help identify these underlying factors and work with you to address them in a healthy way.

By addressing root causes, couples can break free from destructive patterns and build a stronger, healthier relationship.

Therapy Options in Provo: Finding the Right Approach

When seeking couples therapy in Provo, it’s important to find an approach that fits your needs. At Brookside Counseling, we offer various evidence-based therapy methods to help you and your partner overcome challenges and grow together. Some of the approaches we use include:

Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT): Focuses on the emotional bond between partners and works to repair negative cycles that affect closeness and connection.

The Gottman Method: Based on research, this method helps couples improve communication, resolve conflict, and strengthen their friendship and intimacy.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT): Helps couples identify and change negative thought patterns and behaviors that may be affecting their relationship.

Solution-Focused Therapy: Focuses on finding practical solutions to specific problems, rather than delving deeply into past issues.

No matter what therapy approach you choose, our therapists at Brookside Counseling will work with you to tailor the experience to your unique relationship challenges.

Conclusion

Overcoming challenges together is a key component of a successful relationship. Whether you're struggling with communication, trust issues, emotional distance, or external stressors, couples therapy in Provo can provide the tools, support, and guidance needed to repair and strengthen your relationship. At Brookside Counseling, we’re committed to helping couples in Provo work through their difficulties and build a healthier, more fulfilling connection.

If you're ready to take the next step in overcoming challenges with your partner, contact us today to schedule an appointment. Together, we can work toward creating a relationship that stands the test of time.

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