#cause it was funny once upon a time

[cupcakes-are-ours]

lothor: i said no more killing my men without permission. and what did you do? killed someone!

vexacus: i am not going to stand here and listen to you accusing me of things i clearly did

[mewtillidae]

posting a kremy every single day until new episodes of OUAW are out DAY 60

[no1ryomafan]

Once again debating about the side mega man blog but regardless if I do make it or not, when I have the time I might make a whole long in depth post talking about the male ZX protags cause man while I have no idea how the tumblr fandom is I’m remembering some dumb takes with them so I think they deserve a proper breakdown to show “no they have character you fucking dumbasses”

[earlyspringtranscendence]

btw i think one of the most impt hobbies in the world is having a mostly non-existent, mostly self indulgent crush on a professor/lecturer just to zone out to their classes to and focus instead on their hair and their hands and their dark circles speaking NAWT from experience. maybe a little bit.

[radiance1]

There was a boy walking towards the invading army.

There was a civilian child walking towards the invading army from the infinite realms lead by their tyrannical ruler. The Justice League tried to stop force their way through, save the boy.

Instead of that, however, they were blocked by multiple ghosts, all hellbent on not leaving them alone. Superman tried to get close to the kid? Piles upon piles of ghosts knocked him back. Wonder Woman? The same thing happened.

The thing was, that wasn't even the ground army who did it. But the ones in the sky.

So the kid was walking towards an entire army by himself. One hellbent on taking over Earth and have no qualms about ending the short life of a human boy.

Instead of watching a child die, a life they failed to save. Something else happened.

The army parted for him.

Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, the same happened with the ghosts. They made a clear-cut line for him to walk straight towards their king with no obstacle, even clearing the way of anything that could pose as one.

Again, the Justice League tried to go down to drag the boy away, only to again be denied by the ghosts flying through the sky. Only to stop chasing as soon as they retreated a certain distance.

The ghosts stood still, and only moved as they got close, unlike their previous acts of causing havoc and mayhem. So, the Justice League, as much as they didn't want too, stood still and watched.

The boy stood at a stop before the king, painfully tiny in comparison to the massive ghostly tyrant standing before him with his arms crossed.

"Yo, dad." The boy said, and the Justice League froze in shock.

===

"Yo, dad." Danny lifted a hand up in greeting, before dropping that hand to rub at his neck. "Funny seeing you here, I guess."

"Phantom..." Pariah Dark's voice was soft yet booming and seemed to echo throughout the battlefield. "We meet once again on the field of battle, come to challenge me again, little one? Without your armor, no less?" Pariah tilted his head to the side slightly, questioning.

"Oh that? Yea that got destroyed ages ago," Danny shrugged, as if not having it didn't bother him at all. "Parents couldn't exactly, you know, finish it. Plus, they had other things to work on, so they just decided to scrap the thing altogether." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "So, yea..."

Pariah looked the boy over, his eyes hardening and he clicked his tongue at what he saw.

"You come here, not with armor," Pariah began, strength in his voice and a fire (literally) in his eyes. "Nor a weapon, or a shield, and no allies of any kind-"

"Well those guys are there" Danny pointed behind him, straight at the Justice League.

"-Walk up to a hostile force with no gauge of their strength." But Pariah just barreled on as if the Justice League were an afterthought. "And face their leader and do not expect to come to harm!?" The Ghost King scowled, and the Justice League tensed.

But just tilted his head slightly. "Well, are you going to harm me?" He asked.

Pariah Dark blinked, then whispered. "I could, child. I could kill you." He put a strong emphasis on the word kill.

"You could," Danny nodded. "But are you going to hurt me?"

The Ghost King remained silent, but his gaze intensified.

Danny shrugged, this time with a smile. "See? You wouldn't hurt me so it's fine. Ya big softie."

Pariah's scowl intensified. "I am not soft, child."

"Oh really?" Danny leaned forward and his smile took on a more playful edge. "Then what's you're reason for visiting Earth, hmmmm?"

"To wage war and fight against this world's mightiest heroes." The Ghost King answered quickly.

"Annnnnnnd?"

The king remained silent for a moment and Danny stepped forwards before he face planted onto concrete. "C'mon, dad. Tell me the other reason you came here." Danny crossed his arms, mimicking the Ghost King's pose.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before Pariah looked off the side with green dusting his cheeks. "You have not visited in 50 years, son..." He whispered, but everyone heard it.

"Hah! Knew you missed me!" Danny said shamelessly with a satisfied and smug smile.

"And your father forced me out of the realms because I upset him." Small embers started igniting themselves on the tips of the king's hair.

Silence echoed over the battlefield, before Danny burst out laughing. Pariah Dark's hair fully exploded into green fire as he reached a hand to cover his face. "Of course, alongside the shameless and cheekiness, you get Clockwork's sense of humor as well..."

The Ghost King, at least this very moment, seemed more and more like a tired dad than some fearsome, tyrannical Ghost King.

[neckromantics]

We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.

How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?

You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.

He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.

He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.

Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)

At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.

He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.

It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.

You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.

Astarion's eyes go heavy.

Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.

You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.

You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.

There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.

You cling to him like a lifeline.

Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.

And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.

[monamipencil]

telling them that you have a crush on them !

pairings; hiphop unit x reader, established relationship. | a/n; random thoughts + plus this was a cute idea <3

౨ৎ SEUNGCHEOL !

“we need to talk.” seungcheol was initially scared by your sudden statement. he even needed to calm himself before navigating through whatever it is that bothered you.

he wanted to hold your hands as well, incase it makes it any better for you but you denied. “I have a crush on—” his mind goes blank, hearing the words fall from your lips. an instant jealousy courses through his blood and he visiby tenses till he hears your next words.

“on you.” you confess with a innocent smile and try not to laugh as seungcheol stares blankly, unable to process anything. “wait, what?” laughter shakes your body when the realisation dawns upon your boyfriends who also giggles shyly.

but he gets mad soon after and refuses to talk to you, till you give him enough kisses to last a life time.

౨ৎ WONWOO !

he sees it coming a mile away but plays along. he tries his hardest to suppress the smile that crawls on his face.

“soo, i have a crush,” you start in an almost shy tone which makes wonwoo’s lip quiver but he controls himself and hums. he notices you watching him, as if you’re carefully drinking in every detail of his visage.

he casts his head down, scratching his nape when he sees a small pout sit on your lips. he looks up, “yeah? who?” you smile widely at him, happy with his attention.

“it’s uhm, nevermind. it’s stupid.” he smirks, having caught you with a hook.

“you sure? you know, i have a crush on someone too.” your eyes snap to his, trying to find out if he's lying. then, it's a game of you trying to get the name from him and him from you.

“fine. i give up. i have a crush on you.” his hands fly to wrap around your waist. he holds your sulking figure and rubs his nose against your cheek in a loving manner. “i think it's fate, 'cause i have a crush on you too.”

౨ৎ MINGYU !

“what?” “i have a crush on someone.” a frown decorates his lips and he stares at you with furrowed eyebrows. why would you have a crush on someone when he’s right there?

he tries to laugh it, finding it ridiculous. but, he finds you staring deadpan at him. he tongues his cheek and asks who is it while hiding his hurt behind an annoyed smirk.

“i have a crush on you.” blinks once, twice and thrice before realising he got played. he closes his eyes, happy and annoyed with you at the same time.

“you find this funny?” he asks, eyeing your laughing figure with faux annoyed expression.

you hug him tightly, and he chuckles when he hears your muffled voice, “god, i love you so much.” he smiles, and grumbles an ‘i love you too’ back to you.

౨ৎ VERNON !

“nonu,” you call his name, to which he responds by turning to look at you with those innocent eyes. (this is the third time you're calling him, actually. he didn't hear you the first two times.)

“yeah?” he asks, reaching out his hand to hold yours. you interlock your fingers with him, and he draws circles on the back of your hand.

“i have a crush.”

he raises a lone eyebrow at you, trying to figure you out. he stops the movement of his thumb but his hand is still placed with yours. “really? on who?” he eyes you up and down. and you maybe regret your decisions now, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks.

“wait, i think i know. seungkwan?”

“why the fuck would i have a crush on your best friend?”

“i don't know. seems like a natural choice.”

he lists a bunch of names, only for you to shake your head. he rests his hand underneath his chin, deep in thought. suddenly, a light bulb lights up above his head. “hugh jackman! right?!”

“no! it's you, idiot.” he lets out a small ‘oh’ sound and you see a sliver of smile flicker on his lips. his cheeks turn a rosy pink and before you know you both are laughing. his hand intertwines back with yours but he's rather shy now with a seemingly permanent smile on his face.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

─────────────────────────

It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[othercrossee]

Beel would love azazel honestly

[minswriting]

No Higher Being Than You - Spencer Reid x Reader

about: for all my girlies who love munch spencer, here is a one shot about spencer worshipping you like you’re a god

warnings: NSFW content, minors do not interact, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, religious comparisons, not an accurate depiction of religion whatsoever.

word count: 0.6k

Ever since Spencer was a young boy, he had never really believed in a higher power. His mother was a paranoid schizophrenic and his father was never really around. Religion was never a topic of his childhood. How could it be? Spencer had to raise himself. And by doing so, he read many books, one of them including the Bible. When he read the Bible, he didn’t believe any of it to be true. It was all fictitious, nothing of real value that could explain how the world came to be. The scientific theories about the world had always made much more sense than a silly book. So it was safe to say that religion was not something Spencer believed in. He was a man of science.

Until he met you.

When you had walked into the coffee shop that Spencer frequently went to before work, he was completely mesmerized. The Boy Genius didn’t care for beauty most of the time. He wasn’t really too interested in people as a whole until he had met Maeve. But as he saw you, took in your appearance, he couldn’t help but thank the Lord above for blessing him with such a sight. And he had thanked the Lord once more when you had given him your number that exact day.

And ever since then, the two of you had clicked.

Not only were you the most beautiful person Spencer had ever laid eyes upon, you were the kindest and sweetest person ever. Your smile radiated the room each time you walked in, your laugh was music to Spencer’s ears. You were a mixture of funny, sarcastic, intelligent. You truly were a divine being. Spencer was completely and utterly enamored by you. He never failed to make sure you were shown just how much he adored you. Especially right now.

Spencer’s tongue lapped around your cunt, taking in the sweet essence that were your juices. You tasted magical as though derived from the Garden of Eden. The forbidden fruit that was worth every drop. Spencer took his time eating you out, savoring each and every moment. His nose rubbed against your clit as he tongued your hole. If premarital coitus were truly a sin, God wouldn’t have made it so lovely.

You were whining and moaning beneath him, your hand tugging his brown curls. Your sounds were beautiful, everything Spencer could’ve dreamed of. The hitch of your breath, the arching of your back, the curling of your toes, all because of Spencer’s touch. It was a blessing to be with you and his reward was making you feel good in any way he could.

“S-Spencer!” You moaned, tugging at his hair.

Spencer replied with a moan, burying his face deeper into your cunt. The vibrations of his voice sent tingles into your pussy, causing you to whine in pleasure. He moved his mouth to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around the nub. You let out a high pitched moan, relishing in the pleasures Spencer was giving you. And Spencer could tell just how close you were.

You were his muse, his higher being. If God were real, you were it. You were the divine entity from the Heavens, blessing the Earth with every fiber in your being. When you came, thighs clenching around Spencer’s face, he felt praised by the skies. And he didn’t stop there. He made sure to make you cum multiple times.

Spencer Reid isn’t a religious man. But meeting you had given him a new meaning of religion. You were his higher being, his one true God to worship. And you absolutely knew it.

[rafey-baby]

forbidden fruit 2

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: mentions of violence & murder, one bed (my fav cliche ever!), slightly suggestive, also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.4k

is he warming up to her? #it’s hard to tell

part one & moodboard

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

“Have you ever considered a less...um, violent job?” she asks, nausea coiling in her guts at the mere thought of harming— let alone killing an innocent animal.  

The inky sky has turned into an even gloomier hue, and if it wasn’t for the luster of the moonlight illuminating their journey, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. However, it’s still a challenge for them (her) to evade the thick roots hiding underneath the spongy moss and brittle lichen— she thinks her fingers aren’t enough to count the times Rafe has had to prevent her from toppling over onto the soil with a steadying grip on her arm.  

At this point, she can’t comprehend how he even knows where they’re going. She thinks that every rock and tree trunk they pass resembles the last but apparently, he’s using them to track the route to his cabin— something he tried to teach her about two hours ago, but gave up the moment her attention was captured by a tiny squirrel hurriedly scampering off into its hiding spot.   

“If I’m bein’ honest, I think killin’ is the only thing m’good for at this point,” he murmurs while inspecting a fallen spruce in the middle of their path. 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argues, rounding the obstacle while he simply steps over it.   

“Tha’s cause you don’t know me. Listen, m’not…m’not a good person, I’ve done some, uh, real shitty things, alright?” he looks over to her, gemstone eyes sullen.   

She wonders if the real shitty things include other people’s blood on his hands. After all, the queen wouldn’t have asked him to end her life if he’d never done it before. A shiver creeps up her spine when a vivid image of him doing something so remorseless flashes in her mind.  

However, it’s soon replaced by him dropping the knife and sparing her life, even if it meant complicating his own.   

“I think…a bad person wouldn’t be helping me right now,” her words are honest but he doesn’t offer her a reply, merely flits his eyes over her frame with a furrow in his brow.   

They fall into a serene silence, wordlessly treading further and further into the somber forest while she keeps getting distracted by the glittering stars above them; mesmerized by the beauty of something so far away from all the cruelty on this planet.   

However, when she goes on to take her next step, the ground (or what she thought was the ground) suddenly cracks underneath her, the partly frozen lid of the pond shattering with a loud crackle— only a surprised squeal leaving her throat when she loses her footing and tumbles right into the frigid water with a splash.   

Turns out, it’s not just some small little puddle that’s partly covered by fallen leaves and branches, but a rather deep one; saturating her all the way up to her neck as she gasps for breath when the coldness surrounds her helpless limbs.  

“Shit.”   

She hears Rafe hiss before humored laughter bubbles from his chest.  

“Rafe, this is not funny,” she complains with her teeth chattering when the icy liquid soaks through the fabric of her dress in an instant.   

“M’sorry, you jus’ look like a wet kitten right now,” he shakes his head, chuckling as he extends an arm towards her— pulling her up and steadying her with a firm grip on her waist.  

“Ow,” she cries out when she leans her weight on her left foot.   

“What’s wrong?” he seems almost concerned as he scans her for any visible injuries.   

“Think I sprained my ankle, it hurts,” she frowns, reaching for his forearm for balance.   

“Of course you did, told you to be careful,” he clicks his tongue, slightly annoyed at the fact that she really is a helpless case. “Can you walk?”   

“I don’t know…” she mumbles; face crumpling up when she tries to take a step forward.   

“Right, uh, c’mere then,” he huffs out before his hands are on her waist once more and he’s lifting her into his arms like a bag of flour.   

“Oh, you don’t have to—”   

“There’s no way you’re walkin’ right now,” he scoffs as he shifts her into a better position before he’s continuing their trek. “What would you even do without me, hm?”   

“Probably freeze to death like you said,” she pouts, eyes despondent when she leans into his supportive hold.  

“Yeah.”   

“M’sorry,” she sniffles, the ache in her foot combined with him being mad at her causing her eyes to burn.  

“Shouldn’t be that long ’till we’re there, princess. Think you can manage not to cry before we get there?” 

“I don’t know…it hurts and m’cold,” she sulks, feeling miserable, even if she knows she should be grateful she’s not dead or alone in the woods right now.   

“You’re a big girl, know you can take it. You’ll feel better soon, yeah?” he attempts to provide her some sort of comfort with his limited knowledge of handling something so fragile.   

She hums out something incoherent in response, weak arms wrapping around his neck as she takes in a shaky inhale— damp skin prickling under the chilly air that’s making the leafy trees sway back and forth, reminding her of shadowy ghosts.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -   

“Uh, think there should be a dry shirt for you here somewhere…” he trails off as he goes through his closet. “This is probably a little too big but should be fine, yeah?”   

The cabin is small and secluded; the darkened walls blending in with the rest of the forest and concealing them from the outside, making her feel strangely secure. However, his taste in decor makes her rather uneasy as she tries to desperately focus on the crackling fireplace beginning to warm up her trembling limbs and not the assortment of dead animals and their fur or other body parts on display.   

“Oh, it’s perfect, thank you,” she tears her eyes from the elk antlers presented on the wall, offering him a tense smile when she takes the cottony shirt from him; the material surprisingly soft between her fingertips. 

However, before he has the chance to leave the bedroom in order to give her some privacy, she timidly speaks up again, words clumsy and hurried. “Could you— um, could you help me undress? This corset is quite impossible to take off by myself…especially now that it’s wet.”  

“Uh, right, yeah,” he clears his throat, gesturing for her to turn around before he’s pulling her closer by a grip on her hips, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath their feet making up for the sudden silence.  

She doesn’t know why the gesture feels almost intimate or why it makes her hold her breath when he begins to unfasten the strings holding the corset top together, but a strange shade of suspense colors the air around them nonetheless. 

“A tight little thing, huh?” he rasps as his fingers deftly work on the satiny ribbons— a process that feels eternal while she tries not to pay any mind to the way her heart keeps thumping louder and louder by each passing second. 

When she finally feels the silky material loosening around her middle, she has to will her erratic breathing to slow down as he unhooks the rest of the dress— the fabric forming a pearly white puddle on the floor.  

Then, he’s wordlessly slipping his shirt over her head; the sleeves far too long and the hem fitting her more like a short nightgown.  

“Thanks,” she swallows before she’s gingerly turning around, lacking the courage of looking him in the eye for any longer than a glance.       

“Right, uh, we should get some sleep. You can take the bed ’n I’ll sleep on the floor, yeah?”  

And she’s already nodding before the words register in her disconcerted brain. “Wait, no, it’s your bed. I can sleep on the floor,” she argues immediately, momentarily forgetting why she was so shy in the first place when the weight of being an inconvenience builds up on her shoulders.   

“Nah, m’not gonna let a fuckin’ princess sleep on the floor. S’fine, jus’ take the bed, I don’t want it. Need to make sure we weren’t followed anyway,” he grumbles, attempting to leave the room once more.  

“Rafe, you need sleep just as much as I do. It’s the middle of the night, my stepmother doesn’t even know what you did yet. She’s expecting you to return tomorrow, right?” she tries to reason, not willing to give in because letting him sleep comfortably is the least she can do to even begin returning the favor.  

He lets out a weary sigh before shrugging off his jacket, far too worn out to argue. “Yeah, alright, guess you have a point.”   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -   

They end up sharing the bed.    

And once they’ve both settled into the opposite sides, she’s far too intimidated by Rafe’s disgruntled aura to utter out anything other than a whispered goodnight before it’s quiet once more.    

However, as the night stretches on, she begins to grow restless; tossing and turning on the creaky mattress and driving Rafe mad in the process.

She doesn’t mean to, the last thing she wants is to disturb his rest but her thoughts are racing and she can’t seem to close her eyes for more than a few seconds because truthfully, she feels terrible— everything familiar has been turned upside down in the span of a day and the only life she knows has practically ceased to exist. All she wants is to go home but that’s not an option anymore and it’s scary. 

“Hey, uh, you good?” Rafe’s sudden drawl makes her flinch.    

“Sorry, can’t sleep,” she peeps out, expression apologetic when she twists to face him, causing the sheets to rustle around them.    

“Yeah, me neither since you keep movin’ around like a lunatic,” he grumbles, irritation clear in his tone.   

“M’sorry. Just can’t stop thinking about everything and I just…I’ve never understood why she hates me so much,” she breathes out, features contorting into something heavy-hearted as she chews on her bottom lip. 

He blinks tiredly; movements lethargic when he runs a hand through his hair.   

“The queen? Well, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s, uh, not that alright in the head. M’sure you’ve done nothin’ wrong, okay?” he attempts to reassure her, albeit to no avail.   

“I just— just feel like...this is all my fault, you know? And now you’re in danger too because of me,” she rambles, not able to let the thought go.    

“You don’t need to worry ’bout me, princess. There’s enough people that want me dead already, what’s one more?” he lets out a dry chuckle that makes her frown.    

“What do you mean?”    

“Nothin’ just, uh, listen…the worst thing that’s gonna happen is that she’s gonna have me killed when I don’t return, ’n once she finds out you’re still alive, she’s gonna send her soldiers to bring her your—”   

“Rafe, that’s not helping. Why would say that?” she interrupts him and apparently, he finds her scowling face to be the most hilarious thing in the world because next thing she knows he’s laughing, sleepy features scrunching up as he shakes his head. 

It’s safe to say she does not understand his humor, whatsoever.    

“All m’sayin’ is that we’re gonna have to find someplace good to hide.”    

“We have to leave the kingdom?” she asks, worried.    

“Yeah, think so,” he says, sounding far too impassive for her liking.    

“But I can’t just leave, this is my home.”   

“I know, but s’gonna be okay,” he murmurs, mouth stretching around a yawn.   

“But what if— what if something happens?” she sounds panicked, all the worst-case scenarios bouncing around her skull because she’s never even been this far from the palace. How on earth is she meant to survive in the real world? 

“I’ll keep you safe, yeah? Now can you let me sleep?” he lets out a drowsy exhale, seemingly fed up with the conversation already.   

“But what if—”   

“Shh, c’mere,” he hushes her before he’s tucking her flush against his chest— a heavy palm resting on her thigh to keep her from moving because he’s exhausted and more than aware that tomorrow is going to be a long day, especially with this overthinking princess who he wishes would just shut up.   

It’s something he’d tell her outright if he wasn’t certain that she’d start crying all over again in response— the rest of the hike here with her sobs and hiccups thrumming in his ears more than enough for one day.   

And the sudden proximity seems to work because instantly, she stops shifting around; nearly stops breathing altogether when she swallows. “What are you…”   

“Just, uh, need you to calm down, yeah?” he pats at her hip before she’s clumsily humming out another apology.  

And despite the slight trace of the muddy water, her hair still smells of forest berries and wildflowers, making exasperation worm its way into his veins. He doesn’t understand why she’s trusting her life in his hands so thoughtlessly; it’s like she has no sense of self-preservation with the way she’s blindly following him anywhere, when not even a day ago he attempted to murder her.   

He wonders if she’s always been like this; naive and dumb, always seeing the good in people, even when there isn’t any. All it took was a few remotely sweet words and she’s already allowing him to hold her this close— a foolish deer resting peacefully next to a starving wolf and expecting not to get hurt.    

Momentarily, he gets the urge to just finish the job right now, wrap his arm around her throat until the flame burns out, leaving her eyes dull, lifeless. After all, it would make his life considerably easier. He can almost feel it— the moment her heart comes to a halt in her ribcage as she turns into nothing more than flesh and bones, freeing him from this burden.  

And at the end of the day, it’s part of his nature to kill for his own benefit, muscles nearly stinging with the self-serving temptation because that’s what he’s always been; selfish.    

“Rafe, that hurts,” her voice is small, nervous, nonetheless forcing him to resurface to the current; his rough fingertips mindlessly sinking into the bare surface of her thigh, harsh enough to leave a bruise. 

Her entire form is tense, breathing shallow and limbs unmoving, resembling a rabbit rigid with fear, only amplifying this ever-growing itch under his skin.  

He clears his throat.  

“Sorry,” a mutter through his teeth before she can finally feel the pressure dissipating— his thumb smoothing over the sore patch while he tries to decide what the fuck he should do with her.    

[2cupids]

SUCKING OFF TOJI

warnings. oral (m. receiving), cheating, videotaping, petnames, brief solo masturbątion, cümshot, petnames, toji threatens to blackmail you. mdni (17+).

“fuckin’ nasty bitch.” toji laughs above you as the camera flash from his phone comes on as he starts to record you on your knees.

slobber coats your chin and neck as you messily suck his cock, bobbing your head back and forth with hollowed cheeks, letting his fat tip graze the back of your throat each time.

“i oughta send this to that boyfriend of yours... show him how you’re sucking another man’s dick.” toji threatens, “bet the little fucker would piss himself.”

you can hear the self-satisfaction in his voice at his twisted threat and it takes everything in you to not pull away and call him an asshole.

so instead, you pinch his thigh to show you don’t find his comment funny. but you can’t deny that his words do excite you even if it’s just a tiny bit. you know toji well enough to know he wouldn’t do that, but the thought of him sending the video to your boyfriend makes your pussy throb.

a string of saliva connects the head of toji’s cock to your swollen bottom lip as you pull away. your big, watery eyes look into the camera lens before traveling up further and landing on toji’s face.

“please, toj… don’t.” the hint of sarcasm in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed as you ‘beg’ him not to, and toji obviously picks up on it.

he takes his hand off the back of your head and brings it down to caress your cheek as his lips curl into a grin. “damn slut. you don’t have an ounce of remorse in you… do ya?”

the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile, betraying the innocent expression that you’ve put on for the camera. eventually a few seconds later you have no choice but to admit he’s right with a simple shake of your head.

“that’s my girl.” toji praises you and there’s a twinkle in your eyes upon hearing his words.

you part your lips again and take his dick back in your mouth, solely focusing on sucking the tip and letting your hands do the rest.

you flick your tongue over his slit and circle your tongue around the head, causing him to shudder. a quiet whimper slips past his lips as he hovers over you. his knees feel weaker with each passing second that your warm mouth continues working on him.

“ohhh, shit.” toji throws his head back, groaning. “let me cum on that pretty face, huh?”

you hum and pull off his length once again. you watch him take his thick cock in his hand and start jerking himself off just the way he likes whenever he’s close like this.

the phone shakes in toji’s hand and the video isn’t stable anymore but that’s the least of his worries right now. as toji looks down at you through hooded eyes and a light sheen of sweat sets on top his forehead, “so good to me.. you know that, doll?” toji pants.

you make a sound in acknowledgment and smile at him.

“f-fuckk! gonna bust any second now.”

“yeah?” you speak softly while rubbing his thigh. “let me have it, baby.”

you open your mouth and tilt your head back, eagerly waiting for him to release his load all over your face. a loud groan erupts from toji’s chest and seconds later you feel his hot cum land on your face and tongue.

toji’s chest heaves up and down as he catches his breath and watches you swallow his seed. you wipe off the cum that landed on your face and pop it into your mouth, licking your finger clean. you take in his blissed out expression before reminding him to end the video, to which he scoffs and says he was about to.

he looks down at his phone and scrolls through the video, satisfied with how well it turned out. he gently cups your chin, rubbing his thumb over your jaw and gazing down at you with a slightly sinister look.

“hope you don’t ever plan on leaving me, pretty girl.” toji says quietly, turning the phone so it's facing you as the video continues to play. “because this video? it ain’t going nowhere, honey. i’ll use it however i want to always get my way.”

[ultravi0lence14]

Season Of The Witch

dean winchester x witch!reader

5k | fluff, slight angst

summary: as a natural born witch, you never felt the need to do all the insidious acts that other, more malignant witches did. funny enough, you hunted them like a hunter did your kind. this hobby of yours led you to the winchester’s, which led into a long journey spent with them and unspoken feelings for the eldest brother.

*based on this request

the cold wind whipped at your face, making your hair fly in every direction. your car was parked on the side of the road, a desolate spot that stared off onto a lake. you were sitting on the car’s hood, spell book in hand as you tried to figure out which spell would be the best to help find this witch.

it was weird really. a witch that hunted down other witches. but as strange as it sounded, you weren’t evil at all. born in a very long lineage of witches alike, your mom always raised you on the pretences of good, never allowing you to stray into the clutches of evil.

she had raised you in a peaceful environment, showing you the ways witches could use their craft to benefit others. different spells, healing charms, herbs, and warding symbols were all you knew growing up, and it didn’t really seem to bother you.

the two years since she had passed seemed like a millennia ago, but her legacy that stayed alive in your path made you believe that she’d be proud in you.

a week after she had passed, a witch had stumbled upon your small town, looking for a place to wreak havoc. you weren’t having it, and in an attempt to get her to stop — talking her down until she backed off — the witch sent a bookshelf flying at your head, nearly missing if you hadn’t dodged out of the way.

that was the first witch you’d ever killed. and honestly, it didn’t feel right in the beginning.

this was your own kind. women who also shared the same craft that you did. but it dawned on you very quickly that they weren’t using it correctly. these witches were using the power of magic to cause harm when it’s intended purpose was to spread good.

it was then two years ago that you decided to go rogue, scoping out cases done by witches and dealing with the problem before it got out of hand.

you had come across hunters in your time. wanting to kill you, believing your good girl act was all a ruse. though with quick words — and sometimes spells if needed — you got them off your back.

this time, it wasn’t as simple.

the foggy atmosphere of michigan brought a sinister, and dull feeling to the small town you were currently in. a newspaper article led you here, spouting a story about how kids in the town had been randomly disappearing, only to then go back to their homes three days later with no memory, to then break out in a horrid sickness.

you knew this all too well. it was a powerful spell used by witches to stay young forever. almost like the purpose of rapunzel’s hair in tangled but with the youth of children. it was sick and twisted, and you never once in your life thought of using it.

really, you didn’t need to. though your mom was a witch your dad was human. this meant that you were basically a regular person, but with magic flowing through your veins. it was pretty cool, but it didn’t happen for most witches, which had some resorting to this form of cruelty.

moving throughout the town, you could feel the energy that the witch was leaving off; pure evil and unadulterated demise. you wanted to stop her as quickly as possible, though you noticed there was something in your way.

well, actually two somethings.

hunters, and notorious ones at that. sam and dean winchester were known throughout not only the supernatural world, but the hunter community. they were good at what they did, and you couldn’t lie to yourself and believe that them being in town — presumably working on the same case — didn’t scare the crap out of you.

those two were well known for killing anyone in their path. so you decided to stay low, taking a more bookish approach while working so you wouldn’t run into the two brothers.

that’s why you were looking through your spell book. you were trying to find something that would help you with the whereabouts of the witch. but it wasn’t working.

with an unsatisfied huff leaving your lips, you hopped off your cars hood, getting into the drivers seat and pealing back onto the road, moving towards the nearest bar you could find.

a calm, peaceful drink at some bar was all you needed. you wanted to get your mind off of the imposed threat of the winchester’s, and focus more on saving the children in this town.

ten minutes later, you found a run down dive bar surrounded by even more deserted buildings. it wasn’t pleasant looking, definitely having been opened for a couple of decades, but you were desperate for a pick me up, and this was the closest place you could find.

the smell of cheap beer and stale air took over your senses when you opened the door. the place wasn’t too busy, just a couple of stragglers who seemed to be regulars in the place. with that in mind, you walked towards the bar, head down so you wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye and start any unwanted conversations.

you really didn’t know what to even think about when you sat at the bar top, a glass of something strong in your hands. you were in this rut that seemed to have started after your moms passing. you’d throw yourself into cases, taking your mind off of the pain of losing her. you never really coped with her death, and as time moved on, the effects of it were starting to wear you down.

everything was for her. she wanted to be a person that was seen as a beacon of hope, a saviour they could always count on. and yeah, you had been doing that for the past two years, saving children and adults alike from the clutches of different witches. but when had it stopped making you feel fulfilled? when had it taken away that riveting feeling of honouring your mom and left a chore in it’s wake.

the thoughts were running around your head, almost about to make you catatonic when a voice cut through the air. it was familiar, yet you couldn’t pin point where you’d heard it from.

“we’ve got everything we need, sammy. the whereabouts of the witch, her motives, the artillery to take her down. why can’t we just go gank her now?” oh dear god.

of course it was the winchester’s. why would you be able to have a peaceful drink without those two being there? it was almost like the universe was playing a sick prank on you, laughing in your face at your already down mood and throwing something in the mix to make you feel worse.

but then you listened closely, really getting a good understanding at what they were saying. “it’s not that simple,” spoke the youngest winchester, who you knew was named sam. “she’s powerful dean, possibly the most powerful witch we’ve ever come across. this case would definitely call for backup, but we don’t have any. so we’ve got to think clearly and not make any stupid decisions.”

his words made a small light bulb flicker in your head. the idea was stupid — really stupid if the winchester’s weren’t up for what you had in mind. but you were desperate, the shit realization that just dawned on you needing to be squashed. they had the resources you needed, and what was the harm in having a bit of help?

knocking back the rest of your drink, you got off the bar stool and started walking towards the hunters’ table. though you were nervous they would shoot you right on the spot, you couldn’t show them that. so with an unabided confidence that you didn’t even know you had, you slid into the booth beside the eldest winchester.

you watched as both their expressions twisted into confusion. you awkwardly smiled as dean looked at you, and then at his brother with an expression void of any emotion but pure bewilderment. “can we help you-“

“let’s just cut to the chase,” you had cut him off, telling the two your name before jumping straight into business. “i’m a witch.”

the two men’s eyes widened, and before either of them could reach for a weapon, you lifted your hand in a ‘wait’ motion, halting their movements while also putting fear in sam’s eyes that your hand pointed at him was going to throw him across the room.

“before the two of you start your whole hunter shtick, i’m not evil, i swear.” the looks on their faces were skeptical, but you were too tired to even elaborate. “long story short, born a witch, mother raised me good, she died and i decided to kill witches who are evil, kind of.” the last two words were lilted up a bit, producing confusion on not only your face but sam and dean’s.

they had no idea what they were just faced with. sam looked at dean across the table, and they had one of their infamous silent conversations. dean clearly didn’t trust her, but sam believed that she was telling the truth, not understanding why she would tell such an elaborate lie to get into cahoots with them.

sam placed his hands on the table, leaning closer towards the mysterious girl so he could get a better read on her. “so i’m guessing you’re looking after the same witch we are?”

“yes.” you spoke, pulling your personal journal and spell book out of your bag. you saw dean’s hesitant face as he peered at the book, different assumptions of horrors and malignant spells that were beyond the bindings splaying across his face. though when you opened it, he saw nothing but good and graceful magic that could thwart the evil that lurked throughout the world.

opening both your journal and spell book to specific pages, you pointed at each, annunciating your points as dean and sam looked on curiously. “this is the witch we’re working with, as you two already figured out.” you started, pointing to your journal were you had written down a mental note of her. “and this is the spell that i thought could stop her, but i seemed to have been wrong.”

the intrigue on sam’s face had grown, and in an instant he was spinning your spell book towards him, flipping through the pages like he was trying to look for something specific. you just watched on confused, not knowing what his motives were but still interested in what he was thinking about.

“what if,” he mumbled to himself, stopping on a page and flipping it around to you and dean. “we combined that first spell you showed us and this one? they both have the agents to take down this witch, the only problem is that there is no spell where the ingredients correspond. so what if we just. . . meshed them together?”

his words came off confusing to you at the start, but when you really started to think about it, the plan was borderline genius. with a little tweaking of the spell, you’d have all the resources you’d need to take down this witch.

“that could work.” you balked out excitedly, grabbing a pen from your bag and eagerly writing down the instructions and ingredients from both spells. though, before the pen could even touch the paper, you felt a hard gaze on yours. looking to your left, the cool, emerald eyes of dean winchester were staring back at you.

a dark forest green had taken over his irises, and you could tell that he wasn’t too fond of this plan like his brother was. “do you think we’re fucking stupid? no way in hell are we going to work with you. let alone allow you to cook up some half-assed spell that unknown to sam and i, could be used to kill us.”

expecting nothing less from the eldest brother, you just stared back at him with a straight expression, not really wanting to entertain his paranoia. “wow,” you breathed out, flipping back and forth between the two spells. “you really are as paranoid as they say.”

he just looked at you affronted, words barely gracing the tip of his tongue before you cut him off again. “if i wanted to hurt you two, don’t you think i would’ve done it by now? personally, i don’t have the time — nor energy, to cook up some elaborate plan to kill you both. so stop complaining and go pick these up for me.”

a piece of paper was slammed between the two brothers, a plethora of herbs and ingredients you’d need to conduct the spell.

dean just looked at you with an exasperated expression, a snarky grin appearing on his face in it’s wake. “if you think we’re going to run around and do your chores, than you are extremely mistaken, sunshine.”

sam had listened to dean grumble the entire way to the store. he’d grumbled the entire way back. he even grumbled as you combined it all together. it was clear as day that dean wasn’t having any of this, but sam was having too much fun to put a stop in it.

he could tell you were trust worthy, and with that he allowed you to make your herb stew in the back of the impala, the three of you like sitting ducks outside of the witches house.

dean almost had a conniption when sam offered up that idea, saying he’d kill you on the spot if you got any herbs in the cracks of the backseat. though with sam’s famous puppy dog eyes, here he was; an overpowering smell taking over his nostrils as you added the last ingredient.

“okay,” you breathed out, dusting off your hands in the bowl. “the logistics of the spell are pretty simple; you guys go in, throw this on her, and i’ll be in here saying the spell.”

dean just scoffed, turning around and looking at you with a face of disbelief. “yeah, there is no way in hell we’re leaving you by yourself. let alone in my baby. c’mon sabrina, you’re coming with us.”

the role of your eyes was palpable as you stepped out of the car. you handed off the bowl to sam as dean breathed down your neck, hounding in on your personal space to make sure you wouldn’t make a run for it. his hand was lingering over the small of your back, and you felt stupid for the shiver that ran up your spine.

both sam and dean slowly walked into the house, guns in hand as they prepared for a battle. in your experience, the witch was always hiding somewhere in her home to do her spell work. what you weren’t expecting though, was for her to be right in the living room.

she was doing a spell of sorts, one to draw in people and bring them to her home. it was like that scene in hocus pocus, and you had to laugh at the stereotype of it all.

at the sound of your giggle, her head snapped up, attempting to throw the three of you across the room. but you were quicker, and with a wave of your hand you blocked her attack with meticulous precision. dean looked shocked, though sam was waiting for the nod of your head, indicating when he can throw the mixture.

when you did, sam doused the witch in the mixture. she screamed in agony, something you weren’t suspecting, but you just kept going with the spell. you started chanting the incantation, watching as her skin bubbled in a way that meant her body was liquifying from the inside.

it was gnarly, you knew that; so did sam and dean. faces of disgust etching on all three of your faces as she dropped to the ground, presumably dead.

“did it. . . work?” dean spoke hesitantly, walking closer to the witch and poking at her.

you just nodded your head, flipping to the page in your spell book that would help with the sick kids. it was a reversal spell, and as you finished the incantation, you saw the talismans on the witches alter smash, making you know that the spell was broken and the kids were safe.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur; you going with sam and dean to the hospital to see if the kids were okay, the two brothers asking you countless questions on what a good witch ‘really is’, and now they were dropping you back off at your car, looking at you as you leaned against the driver side door.

“it was nice having some help.” you said, smiling at both of them and going in to give sam a hug. “thank you.” you breathed out, moving from him to his brother. dean was more tense, but he revelled in the feeling of your body against his. you smelt nice, and he couldn’t help but be intoxicated by your sent.

than an idea popped into his head, and he pulled away so he was only at an arms length. “what if you joined us?” dean spoke, eliciting your eyes to widen and sam’s eyebrows to raise.

“wait, seriously?” you questioned, looking dean in the eye as his hands stayed firmly on your shoulders. it was a weird position, but you felt a strange sense of serenity with his hands soothing your skin.

“yeah,” dean’s voice sounded like he was unsure, but he knew that what he was saying was the truth. “sam and i can only do so much, and having a witch on our side would be a great advantage.”

sam nodded in agreement, looking over at you with a smile. “he’s right, and you’re pretty cool.”

you just laughed, thinking about their proposal for a second. this work wasn’t something you enjoyed anymore, but new parameters? two new people for you to work with? you weren’t just going to be hunting witches anymore, this was going to be all supernatural creatures alike. it was exhilarating, and you couldn’t say no.

“sure, why not.” you spoke with a grin, watching as sam and dean’s face matched yours. this was the start of something new for you, and you could see that something good was going to happen.

the months had gone by in a haze, the thrill of being on the road with sam and dean something you hadn’t felt in a long time. they were good hunters, and every new case they brought forth, a new sense of being was burning into your bones.

ghosts, vampires, and wendigo’s alike, the three of you were hacking through the supernatural population of america one by one. it was nice, knowing you were helping so many more people. and that for once, you had people alongside you that didn’t make you feel alone.

this case was no different, and with the looming threat of a werewolf in town, the three of you were on edge waiting for that next full moon. it was in a couple of hours, and only having been in this small town for one day, you were starting to feel doubtful that you’d be able to stop the wolf before it attacked tonight.

sam had been on his computer all day, going through old town records and different lores on werewolves to figure out what the beast had in store. dean was out in the impala, patrolling the streets and seeing if he could find anything suspicious. you on the other hand, you were creating new spells.

ever since the spell you and sam had concocted worked, you’ve been itching to make more. it was the thrill, the anticipation of when you spoke those words, would the outcome be positive. it most often than not worked, and you loved watching spells of your own merit being used to stop supernatural beings.

the mechanics and rush behind it enthralled you, and the quickness in which you came up with new spells couldn’t be stopped.

a loud huff broke through your excited haze. you turned and watched as dean forcefully shut the door behind him, throwing his jacket and shoes on the ground before flopping on the bed adjacent to the one you were sitting on.

“this is pointless,” he groaned, hands going to run down the expense of his face. “there’s no suspicious activity in town, you’ve had your nose in a book all day sammy, and halliwell over there has been making so many spells, i think the smell is frying our brains.”

a soft smile just graced your cheeks, ignoring the snickers from sam’s lips as you placed your spell book on the bed. you moved to sit beside dean’s sprawled body, hand resting on his shoulder in a comforting fashion as he peaked an eye at you from behind his hand.

“don’t get so stressed, dean.” you soothed, hands going to push a stray hair that went rogue on his forehead. “we’ve dealt with worse and have been successful with less, everything will work out as planned.”

another loud sigh just left the eldest winchester’s lips, his body propelling upwards as he went to sit properly beside you. “thanks sweetheart,” he whispered, leaving a feather light kiss on your cheek that had your face reddening. “how do you always know the right things to say?”

a swarm of butterflies flew around your stomach as you watched dean’s lips move. you knew this silly crush on him was inconvenient for both you and your dazed brain, so you just hoped you could push it down far enough until it fizzled out.

“magic.” you grinned as dean just rolled his eyes, hands going to lightly shove you as he walked over to where sam sat hunched at his computer.

it seemed as though everyone was fed up with the outcome of this case, the loud slam of a laptop indicating that sam had shut his. when you turned your head, you could see the exhaustion and frustration on his face.

he had scrubbed his hand down his face, massaging his forehead with his fingers as you watched him contemplate all his life choices leading up to this very moment. you were all tired, and there was only one thing you knew that took the edge away from every single person in this room.

“i’ve got an idea!” you mused, standing up and walking towards sam’s slumped position. dean was stood by the chair adjacent to you and his brother, watching inquisitively as a bright smile lit up your face. “let’s go get a drink. clear our heads.”

all you got in return was a nod from both brothers, silence blanketing the three of you as you all made your way to the impala. not even ten minutes later, you were seated in a small town bar, tucked away in a booth in the back while sam and dean conversed about something you hadn’t picked up on.

your eyes had racked over the patrons in the bar, seeming to mostly be locals who were known by the owners. but one guy was sending alarms off in your head. you couldn’t explain it, but he just didn’t seem to fit in, a sinister motive behind his exterior.

a slight sense of curiosity washed over your body, and with a slight inclination to sam and dean that you were going to grab another drink, you found yourself moving towards the bar where the man sat.

the second you found your footing on the bar stool, the man was turning his head towards you, waiting for you to order your drink before jumping in. “well, hello there.”

his eyes gleamed with a wicked smirk, nothing but cruel intentions dancing behind his glimmering smile or pearly white teeth. that’s what you planned on doing; to let him believe you were an unsuspecting bystander so you could break down his walls and figure out if what you believed was true.

“hi,” you gave your most flirtatious smile, trying not to look like a dork after all the years you’d been out of practice. “what’s a man like you doing in a place like this?”

“i can ask you the same thing, doll.” the pet name curled disgust in your gut, dripping off of his tongue like a snakes venom trying to get into your system. it was sickening, but you kept your composure.

with a flick of your hair, you gazed up at the man through your lashes. “oh i’m probably just like everyone else in here. trying to take the edge off, looking for a bit of fun. mischief.” you could see the way his eyes sparkled mean when you said those last words, lips coming up to lick his top row of teeth like a predator finding his prey. it was then you saw the prominence of his canines, and your suspicions were made correct.

“well,” he drawled out, inching closer by the second. “i can think of a few things we could-“

“baby, are you ready to go?”

the rough voice behind you made a jump wrack through your body, and when you turned around, dean’s hard stare was just as menacing as his voice. it wasn’t even just the endearing name that sent a jolt through your veins, it was the way he sounded like he meant it, forcing the word out like it’d been trapped on the tip of his tongue.

it was directed towards the man beside you, eyes narrowed as you watched his hands tighten on the back of your chair. you could see the restraint in his eyes, watching as he stopped himself from letting go of your stool and strangling this man until he couldn’t breathe.

no other words left his mouth as he stood behind you. he didn’t need to say anything. you could see exactly what he was thinking from the emotions swirling in his green irises.

“didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” the man grumbled, taking his gaze of off dean’s and moving towards the front of the bar. you didn’t even have time to reply, feeling as dean’s arm wrapped around your waist, moving you slowly off of the seat before he tucked you into his side.

“must’ve slipped her mind.” he gritted out, turning around and pulling the both of you towards the hallway leading to the bathrooms.

your heart was beating in your ears, so many thoughts swivelling around your brain that you didn’t know what to think. dean had never acted like this before, and you don’t know why he’s started now.

in an instant, dean’s arm left your waist, spinning you until you backed against the wall of the secluded hallway with a dull thud. a gasp left your lips as he crowded into your space, placing his hands on the wall by your head as his face inched closer to yours.

“what the fuck was that?” dean had practically seethed out the words through gritted teeth, breath hitting your face as you stared at him wide eyed. “i look away for one second and you’re twirling your hair for another man. do you know how that makes me feel?” his words came out like knives, sending a feeling of confusion and shock through your body.

“what are you even talking about dean?” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. “you flirt with girls at every stop we make. you’ve never even inclined to me that you feel this way, so why now?”

you wouldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t wish for this to happen, because you did. bubbles of jealousy would rise in your stomach when dean got girls phone numbers, and annoyance when he’d leave a bar with another waitress would rear it’s ugly head until your knuckles turned white from gripping the table.

but through all of that, you still couldn’t understand why dean was saying this now. why he hadn’t just out and talked to you when he first had the chance.

a softer look danced across dean’s eyes, removing one of his hands from the wall so he could cup your cheek. it was all so confusing, but you couldn’t help staring back into his eyes as he penetrated your soul with his.

“i was afraid,” dean breathed out, looking down briefly before looking back at you. “the people i care about have a way of getting hurt, and i could never let that happen to you, sweet girl, never.” his words were followed by his fingers stroking your cheek, a small smile dancing across his lips. “you mean too much to me, more than i could ever imagine.”

this all seemed so sudden, but somehow, you knew in your heart that it all made sense. dean was just as scared as any normal person with his life would be, and that was okay. you just wanted him to feel like he could let you in without the fear of inevitable demise.

the palms of your hands went to rest behind his neck, stroking the tufts of hair that rested there. you brought your face closer to dean’s, soft breaths leaving your lips as they brushed against dean’s with each word. “just kiss me already.”

and he did, devouring you whole until the only thing you could comprehend was his lips on yours. he was soft, gentle, but also with an urgency and roughness that spoke his devotion to you with no words needed.

he was so wrapped up in your lips, that when you tried to pull away he dragged you in closer, the hand resting on your cheek going to rest on the back of your head where his fingers nestled in the locks of your hair.

though when you did pull away, a vibrant smile broke out on your lips that had his knees buckling beneath him. “by the way lover boy, i’m pretty sure i found our werewolf.”

tags: @haunteres @cosmicanakin @a1ecmcdowell @ariasong11 @titsout4jackles @jasvtsc @ostaramoon

[yuvany]

LET'S FALL INLOVE

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and the moment that they realised they fell inlove with you.

HYUNG LINE x f ! reader CONTENT / WARNING(S) fluff / none ! WORD COUNT : 521 ⎯ CHECK BOX !!

reblog and like if you enjoyed ┊ MAKNAE LINE HERE !

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

Heeseung had always been protective over the people he cared for. You had become no exception, but as his friend, or so he thought. When it was crowded, Heeseung's hand would find the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. Once when you almost fell from slipping on water that someone had spilled on the floor, Heeseung was behind you to catch you. Each time, you would give him a smile and say 'thank you' so warmly that made his heart swell. He never realised it until one time when he offered to share an umbrella with him due to the rain that he maybe found you pretty and adorable.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

You and him had been friends for a while, but never had the two of you been out together alone. There was always a mutual friend tagging along, but not this time. You had reached out and asked if Jay wanted to hang out in the park. At first, he hesitated, but upon realising that he's free, he agreed. He goes out of his house and makes his way over to the assigned park. There you were, sitting on a bench, Jay starts walking a bit hurriedly to skip the awkward air when you see him, but he sees that you're speaking to a small child who's been crying. You were holding them in your arms, drying their tears and comforting them that it'll be alright. "That was really kind of you." He pops up behind you after it was resolved.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

It's the small and simple things that caused him to feel his heart double in speed. Him managing to make you laugh seemed stupid, but it sure was effective. Whilst walking together to a party, Jake accompanies you and tells jokes to lighten up the already bright mood. At first it all started off as giggles and laughs between friends, but the more jokes he told, the more he started to feel the butterflies grown inside of him. Jake was naive enough to believe that things like this only occured in movies, but whenever he sees you smile so brightly, he can't help but smile with you. "Jakey, care to say something funny?" You say, your tone is soft but friendly with a tint of laughter. Jake couln't help but looking forward to every time you'd make this request.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It was the late night conversations that gave him the confirmation that maybe what he felt for you was more than just friends. He had avoided that thought for a while, not wanting to distrub whatever had been established amongst you two. As you two enjoy the foggy evening while the sun falls beneath the horizon, there was no tension what so ever, the conversations ranged from speaking about everything to nothing and everything inbetween with a constant flow. Sunghoon admired the way you spoke so calmy, and the way you listened to his stories as well as how calm you looked. He felt his legs wanting to swing and kick the air the more time he spent with you.

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Latency Lingering {F.W}

Chapter II - Cold Comfort

Synopsis: after your run-in with Molly earlier in the afternoon, things come to a head when the very man you'd hoped to never see again shows up at your front door, breathless and demanding answers. And thus, your once so peaceful life comes to a sharp and grinding halt, rather likely for good.

When you looked back on it, your final happy evening with Fred was absolutely chock full of the kind of irony that could make a grown man weep.

It was something you'd scarcely considered prior to the birth of your children, the stinging pain of it all dulled by the persistent dread brought on by the promise of an unsupported birth and the overhanging threat of your ex finding out about the secrets you were keeping from him.

But, of course, that dread hadn't lasted forever, and mere weeks after the birth of your son and daughter you had found yourself suddenly consumed by the near hilarity of the tragedy that had befallen your love life, and the ever present sense of irony that hovered over it like a cloud.

After all, it had been on your last joyful evening with your former boyfriend that the then seemingly far off topic of pregnancy had come up, the weight of it manageable for what you had not then known would be the final time.

It had been a warm spring night, and although the weather had been pleasant enough as of late and the promise of your worst school year yet coming to a close never ceased to bring a sigh of relief to your lips, you couldn't help but feel completely miserable.

For weeks at that point, you had been dealing with utterly debilitating nausea (and the less than welcome side effects associated with it) all throughout your days, and though your love always did his best to support you, you could sense his hesitance and worry over your health as the date planned for he and his brother's conjoined escape drew nearer.

Thus, when you'd found yourself in the gryffindor common room pulled tight against his chest, you'd simply melted into him like a scoop of ice cream dropped upon sticky asphalt.

It always made you feel at least a little better, you'd found, to have him near, and you could tell that he was put at ease whenever he felt your familiar weight against him, a subtle reminder that you were alright even in spite of the illness that plagued you.

He would never admit it, and for you, he didn't have to, but Fred Weasley was a worrier, and a skilled one at that.

So, in order to stave off that worry in favor of spending his second to final evening with you at Hogwarts in better spirits than he otherwise might, he'd begun rattling off utterly ridiculous theories regarding the cause of your long term illness, the likes of which ranged from not having received enough kisses as of late, to bearing witness to Draco Malfoy's face each day.

Though, it was your darling's final theory that had truly managed to capture your attention.

"Ugh, don't even joke about that, Fred. It isn't nearly as funny as you think it is."

You'd huffed out with a light groan of semi-exaggerated despair, unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as your then boyfriend had laughed in response, tossing a lithe arm, strengthened in part by his history with quidditch, no doubt, across your shoulders.

"Who’s joking?"

He'd inquired with a feigned sincerity, his hand raising up to splay across his chest as if appalled.

"This is a matter of utmost seriousness, I'm afraid."

At that, you'd scoffed.

Fred Weasley, engage with a matter of "utmost seriousness"? Unlikely.

"It’d most certainly better not be. I am far from ready to have your child, Weasley."

Your boyfriend had hummed in response, the look of gleeful mischief in his eyes hard to miss.

You braced yourself for whatever ridiculous thing he was about to say.

"Really?"

He'd questioned as if truly baffled by your (sensible) admission.

"Well, you certainly could have fooled me the way that you- ack!"

Suddenly realizing exactly where he was going with that statement, you’d all but lunged to cover up his mouth before he could finish, not too keen on the idea of random passerbys hearing of your (admittedly rather active) sex life.

Still, Fred had dodged your "attack" quite easily, grinning wide as you'd fixed him with your most intimidating glare,

"I'm being serious, you git. You'd have to be mad to find something so disastrous amusing enough to joke about."

To that, Fred had simply shrugged, pulling you ever closer with the arm he'd kept wrapped around your now slightly tensed shoulders.

"I think we may just have different interpretations of what is disastrous, my dear."

He had teased, breaths tickling the baby hairs that grew atop your head,

"I have it all planned out, you know."

You'd hummed at that, eyes twinkling with curiosity as you turned your head to better see the man sitting beside you.

"Oh?" You'd asked, "Do tell."

Fred had chuckled, leaning his cheek against the top of your head as he spoke.

"First, we get the bloody hell out of here."

He'd teased, knowing full well just how much closer his impending absence was in comparison to your own.

"And then, as we'll doubtless be wealthy and well adjusted men by the time you graduate in a few weeks time, you'll move in with George and I, doing whatever job you please until I either convince you to work at our wildly successful shop, or you really do fall pregnant. Whichever comes first."

You'd burst out laughing and smacked your boyfriend's shoulder at that comment, noting with joy the way that he shook with his own laughter against you.

"A child before marriage, Mr. Weasley?" You'd teased once your amusement had been quelled enough to allow for speech, "I fear your mother would just about flay you for such a thing.”

The ginger had hummed in subtle confirmation at that, shrugging slightly as he replied,

"Perhaps, but I reckon she'd be utterly besotted with you for it, so you've not much to lose there besides your future husband."

"Future husband and the father of my child in this hypothetical scenario, I'll remind you." You'd teased, "I'd be rather cross with you if you fell to your mother and left me to raise Fred Jr. all by my lonesome."

Your love had grinned wide at that, raising a brow as he considered your words further,

"You think you'd give me a son first then?" He'd asked teasingly, "Because I have a feeling our first will be a girl."

You'd outright laughed again at that admission, baffled and highly amused by your boyfriend's utter certainty in regards to your future.

"Ah, my apologies. Fredette then."

The man sitting beside you scowled as if you'd said the most absurd thing he'd heard in weeks.

"I think not. Frederica perhaps."

To that, you'd groaned, shaking your head back and forth in utter exasperation.

"Absolutely not. If you'd have our daughter named after you then I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more creative than that."

"Oh, not to worry, love."

Fred had quipped back immediately,

"As I said before, I've got it all planned out."

You opened your mouth to question the man further, but already knowing what you were going to ask, your love had spoken up before you could,

"Winnie for a girl, and Augustine for a boy."

You'd all but gawked at that, shocked by the sincerity of the man's tone as you pulled away to see him already smiling down at you.

"Why Winnie?"

You'd asked gently, watching as the gryffindor sitting beside you shrugged his shoulders,

"It's a rather cute name, isn't it? I think it would fit an adorable little ginger girl splendidly. I can already hear you calling it out across our home, chasing her down to rub sunscreen on those doubtlessly freckled cheeks of hers as she fights tooth and nail for her right to roast in the afternoon sun."

Laughing, you nodded semi-exasperatedly at the rather vivid scene presented to you,

"If she's yours I'm sure I'll be doing that and many similar tasks quite often."

You'd paused for a moment to think further before speaking up again,

"And Augustine?"

Fred smiled softly,

"I've always rather liked the name, but have never heard it used much." He began before continuing almost hesitantly, "And it certainly helps that I fell for you in the month of August, as well."

Your eyes had widened slightly at that, brow raising alongside them as you'd urged Fred to elaborate.

"August?" You'd asked, "We didn't even have school in August, Freddie."

The man sitting beside you nodded in confirmation to your words.

"I know. It was summer, I was free of schoolwork and able to terrorize Ronald, Percy, and little Ginny as much as I well pleased, but even so, the only thing I could think about was you. Can you imagine, fourteen year old me desperate to get back to Hogwarts all because I wanted to see a girl? It was not an easy realization to come to terms with, I'm afraid."

You'd scoffed at that, hand reaching over to squeeze his own where it draped across your shoulder in spite of your seemingly nonplussed reaction as you considered the proposed names further.

"Winnie and Augustine." You had murmured aloud, tasting the two names together on your tongue for the very first time. "I quite like those."

And just as he'd begun to fiddle with the promise ring adorning the hand that rested gently atop his own, your love hummed softly in confirmation.

"I knew you would."

And then, smiling as you'd closed your eyes contentedly and leaned against him, you couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh.

In spite of all the stress you'd endured as of late with Umbridge's rule, your sudden and unexplained bouts of illness, and Fred and George's impending absence, the future, it seemed, was bright.

Until, that is, the very next day, when you'd learned alone in the girls bathroom that some aspects of it would be coming far sooner than you ever could have planned for or even imagined.

That night, just over twenty-four hours after your hopeful conversation, you had broken things off with Fred Weasley, and you hadn't seen him since.

That is, of course, until today.

Because even in spite of your insistence that she not tell him anything earlier that afternoon when she'd caught you on your way out of that accursed doctor's office, it seemed that Molly Weasley had paid your pleas little mind, for it was only a few hours after you'd arrived home that Fred had turned up at your front door.

And truthfully, you knew that it was partially your own fault that he had found you with such ease.

After all, you still lived in that same flat your aunt had rented out to you during your summers away from Hogwarts, the one she used to supplement her income as she persisted with her freelance photography abroad.

Your mother, her sister, hadn't spoken to her (at least to your knowledge), since she'd refused to kick you out of it after your graduation, but the woman in question had never seemed to mind.

In truth, you hadn't yet found it within yourself to miss your children's maternal grandmother much either.

But still, even in spite of your aunt's kindness, you couldn't help but wish you'd had the forethought to move elsewhere as you stared helplessly at the man standing on the other side of your door.

He looked positively frazzled, and utterly determined.

"Fred I-"

"Tell me that she's mistaken."

The young wizard half demanded, half plead, his hand coming to rest upon the inner lip of the door as if afraid you might close it on him at any moment.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t considered it.

You swallowed thickly at his words, opening your mouth in search of a reply only to have him cut you off once more before you could even begin.

"Or better yet, tell me that she's lying and that this is all some utterly ridiculous ploy to get me to see you again after all these years. Tell me anything Y/n, just not that she's right."

Unsure of what to say, you cast your gaze downward toward the floor and away from Fred's prying eyes, and immediately he drew in a sharp breath and cursed above you, bringing his unoccupied hand to rub across his face.

The silence that descended upon the two of you afterward was thick and cloying, the absence of all sound so harsh that it nearly made you shudder, an urge you only held back because you refused to come across as weak to the man standing before you.

Which, as things went, happened to be rather difficult considering how absolutely terrified you felt.

"Truly?"

He breathed out after several long seconds of nothing,

"All this time, and you were just never going to tell me?"

Slowly, and with a shameful certainty, you nodded at that, hands clasping in front of you as your fingers worried away at the spot on your finger where your promise ring had one sat.

Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"Fred, I..."

You trailed off for a few moments, desperately seeking out the right words, only to give up with a sigh when you realized they would likely never come.

There were no "right words" for you to say in this situation. There was only the truth, as ugly as it may have been.

"I didn't know what else to do."

At that, a short burst of harsh and humorless laughter that was jarringly similar to that which he'd let out on your final night together in the astronomy tower pushed passed your ex's lips, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch back from it, a movement which he either didn't notice, or chose to ignore entirely.

"You didn't know what else to do besides dump me with no real explanation and hide my own children from me for nearly three years of their lives?"

He scoffed, looking down at you as if in utter disbelief,

"Does that seem like the most rational decision to you, Y/n?"

In response to his mocking tone and blatant disregard for your reasoning, you looked up to meet your former lover's eyes once more, glaring daggers into them as a hand came to rest upon your hip.

"Was it a rational decision for you to set off fireworks in a school, Fred? Or for you to drop out mere months before graduation?"

You snapped, taking a step closer to the man as you pointed an accusatory finger to his chest, the space between you decreased enough now that you could smell the familiar cologne he'd always worn, the very same one you'd described while smelling amortentia all those years ago in Snape's classroom.

Fred glared right back at you after a moment of what appeared to be surprise at your sudden displeasure, but before he could even think to open his mouth again, you continued.

"How about when you decided to fight in a war that from what I heard, very nearly killed you, huh? And let's not forget to mention this very moment here, where you've turned up to my aunt’s flat in search of your ex girlfriend while looking half a mad man instead of thinking to send an owl first to at least make sure that I even still live here. How rational does that seem, Fred?!"

Your voice was raised now, having been increasing in volume since you'd begun the second half of your rant, and while he had never been one for shouting, it seemed that Fred Weasley was far too concerned with not being outdone to care today.

"You're saying I should have sent an Owl?!" He asked incredulously, the laughter that left him just as barren of humor as the bout before it.

"Oh that's rich coming from you, love, because you could stand to learn a thing or two about sending important owls, it would seem!"

You scoffed, arms crossing atop your chest as you opened your mouth to reply once more, a no doubt biting remark already primed and ready to go at your lips.

As unfair as it was, after all, there was some long buried part of you that felt angry at the man standing before you.

Because even if it was entirely your own choice, you had endured nearly nine long months of pregnancy completely alone, before laboring just under two weeks early all by yourself, which of course had preceded you then raising both of your children all by your lonesome, exhausted and afraid of whatever it was that would come next, because as you'd soon discovered alongside the existence of your children, there was always something else looming on the horizon.

And it just wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair how desperately you yearned for the touch of a man now supposedly unknown to you as you laid in bed each night,

It wasn't fair how curiously your little ones asked about other children's fathers,

It wasn't fair how obviously and agonizingly they took after their dad,

It wasn't fair how you saw him briefly each time you looked into their beautiful little eyes or brushed your fingers through their soft ginger hair,

None of it was fair, not in the slightest.

But just as you were about to open your mouth and express these long buried and ignored feelings of yours, a small and painfully poorly timed voice called out from behind you.

And when you shifted your gaze to see your ex's face more clearly, all you saw expressed upon it was a deep and sorrowful dread as he stared just past you at the once empty door frame, which you hoped against all hope and sense was still bereft of life.

Of course though, you could already tell from Fred's face alone that this was not the case.

"Mummy?"

The young voice that you immediately identified as that of your son questioned curiously from behind you, and finally you swallowed your hopes and fears and turned around to face the music for what felt like the one millionth time in that day alone.

And of course, standing there, backlit by the slightly yellow glow of the bulbs from the kitchen that sat just inside, was your boy, your darling Augustine, looking the very picture of the man that stood just a few feet away from him.

His hair was an absolute mess from his clearly restless sleep, and he was rubbing at his eyes in a manner that made it nearly impossible to make out their color, but even so that inarguable likeness was there.

He looked every bit the quintessential Weasley child, and it made your heart flutter in your chest when you noticed the way that your former love seemed to take this in, as if it were a knife to the gut.

Clearing your throat to rid it of the sudden thickness that you found there, you were quick to reply.

"Yes, love?"

You murmured softly, reaching out gently to help guide the young boy to you when he began to fumble all but blindly in your direction, eyes still blurred by sleep.

"Can sissy and me sleep with you? We've had another bad dream."

At that, you frowned immediately, maternal instincts quick to take over in spite of your stressful situation.

For nearly a year now your twins had suffered from nightmares, often on the same nights, though thankfully from what they had shared with you, they at least seemed to be about differing things.

That said, it did cause you rather significant grief as a parent to see your children suffering so with something you could not even hope to control or change.

It made you feel weak, helpless, and above all else, afraid of your own potential errors or failures in raising your little one's to have something like this plague them for so very long.

Several nights a week you would awaken to the sounds of pattering feet on hardwood, petrified voices crying out your name from down the hall, or little fingers poking at your body to rouse you as one or both of your children sought out the comforts of their mother.

Most often during times like this though, you'd found that it was Winnie who came to get you, her brother (younger by a whopping nine minutes and twenty-three seconds), typically favoring bundling up beneath his covers until you went off to gather him up in your arms and carry him to your bedroom before cocooning him alongside his sister within the blanket that smelled soothingly of you and the detergent you used on it once weekly.

So, naturally, it worried you to note that it was August who sought you out on this particular evening.

Sympathetically, you cooed to the boy standing before you, reaching down to pick him up with ease before setting him familiarly upon your hip with a skill that was rather jarring to the nearly forgotten man standing with his back to the wall just opposite you and your son.

"Of course you can sleep with me, darling."

You assured him gently, rubbing his back with your still free hand as you allowed your voice to take on that soft and soothing tone that all mothers seemed to master at one point or another,

"Does sissy need me to go and get her tonight?"

Your son had just begun quietly shaking his head when the sound of small feet on tiled floors caught your attention, and you immediately turned to better see the source of it as your daughter came into view.

There, backlit in the very same way that her brother had been, stood your ever so brave and dreadfully witty Winnifred, whose hair was still up in messy pigtails from earlier that day due to her refusal to allow you to take them out at bedtime.

You often claimed that she didn't get such stubbornness from you whilst you were teasing her, but you knew deep down that such a statement was far from true.

She was, after all, just as much your daughter as she was Fred's, and it seemed that the apple did not fall far from the tree in that particular regard.

"There's my sweet girl,"

You began, squatting down to offer your unoccupied arm to her,

"Would you like a cuddle as well, then?"

And immediately, the elder of your two children all but launched herself into your arms, muttering softly of her nightmare and the fading details she recalled of it as she buried her face into your neck, relaxing herself with any and all familiaritites you carried about your person.

You shushed her gently, swaying your body back and forth with a practiced rhythm until all of the sudden, Fred's voice snapped you straight out of your reverie.

"They truly are real then."

He said softly, as if in utter disbelief of the sight unfolding before him.

Unsure of what to say, you simply nodded, avoiding his gaze to the very best of your ability as you prayed he didn't notice the quiver in your bottom lip upon hearing the hurt and confusion in his voice.

"I-"

Seeming to choke a bit on his words, Fred faltered for a moment, floundering in place until finally, he simply shook his head and sighed.

"I should go."

Your eyes widened at that, and your head quickly snapped up as the man standing before you pulled a small pen and notepad set from his back pocket, the front of it clearly stained with ink and worn from use.

No doubt for his ideas, then, you realized idly before putting a stop to any familiarity you felt for the individual standing before you.

He was a different man now, a totally new person.

You had no right thinking of him as if you still knew who he was today.

Scribbling out a few lines of text in writing that you knew all too well, the ginger sighed before tearing the piece of paper he had been using out and handing it to you.

"That there is the address to mine and George's shop and our apartment just above it. If you don't find me there, I'm likely at Mum's or somewhere just down the road. Have someone let me know if you ever stop by while I'm not in."

Shocked, you nodded absently before finally finding it within yourself to speak up once more.

"So I'm guessing you'll be wanting me to come to you about all of this sooner rather than later?"

Shrugging in a manner that you would almost describe as hopeless, Fred looked to you briefly before quickly glancing away, as if pained by the mere sight of you alone.

"I would have wanted you to come to me about our children years ago, but better late than never I suppose."

Opening your mouth as if to argue with his statement, you found that nothing worth saying would come.

Once again, it seemed he was rather justified in how he felt.

Once again, it seemed you were the bad guy for doing what you had felt was right all those years ago.

What a mess.

Seeing your apparent speechlessness, Fred simply nodded in farewell before apparating out of your apartment complex without another word, leaving you to wonder how today could have begun so typically and ended in such a life altering manner.

Such was life with twins, you supposed.

masterlist

[ervotica]

the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it. 

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?” 

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes. 

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles. 

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood. 

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.” 

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear. 

“You hurt my feelings.” 

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace. 

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout. 

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close. 

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”