#do you ever reach to touch her but there’s nothing there? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

athenamikaelson · 1 day ago

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Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 26

Word Count- 4.8k

Warnings- ARSON, swearing, mentions of sex and threesomes

“Wait so Theo tried giving my brothers the sex talk?”

I tighten my jacket as I cringe at Rebekah’s question. The blonde original walks beside me past construction workers and townspeople as we make our way over to Wickey Bridge.

“I wish I was joking. He’s so corny.”

Rebekah lets out a chuckle, “And let me guess, my brothers sat down and listened.”

I let out a sigh, “Every second of it.”

“What happened after you kicked Theo out?”

I frown as I recall last night, “Nothing. Like… literally nothing. Theo went to his room and then Klaus and Elijah stood up and then Elijah wished me a good night, and then they just left,” I raise my hands in defeat and Rebekah rolls her eyes.

“Well what did you want to happen,” I close my mouth as I hear Rebekah’s tone and see the smirk on her face.

“Nothing…shut up.”

Rebekah shakes her head, “Then you have nothing to complain about,” She eyes me, “Right?”

I eye her back and nod, “Yep. Nothing at all.”

Rebekah rolls her eyes at me and mutters something quietly under her breath before wrapping her arm in mine and dragging me toward Carol Lockwood.

“Why are we here anyways,” I shake slightly as a brush of wind hits my face, “It’s cold. And there’s too many people here.”

“I told you in the car, I need some information. We’ll leave as soon as I get it.”

Rebekah leads us to Carol who plasters a huge fake smile as soon as she sees the Original and it slightly dampers when his eyes meet mine and I fight the urge to roll my own.

“Rebekah and…Y/n,” Her tone tightens as she says my name, “What a pleasure you’re both here! How can I help you?”

Before Rebekah can respond I spot a refreshments table and untangle my arm from Bekah’s. She frowns at me but when I point towards the drinks she nods, going back to talk to Carol.

I’d rather lobotomize myself than have a conversation with that woman.

—

I blow out a breath as I nurse the styrofoam cup filled with cocoa in my hands. The warmth momentarily giving my hands some much-needed heat.

“Pukey, you hear with Barbie Klaus I presume?”

I turn around and my eyes meet Damon’s blue ones.

“Sadly, yes.”

My attention strays to a pretty red-headed woman who stands beside him, an amused smile comes over her face as she gives me a once over.

“Pukey?”

“It’s Y/n.”

She blinks as she hears my name and something momentarily shifts in her gaze, and then her smile turns into a small smirk that unsettles me.

She reaches out her hand for me to shake but Damon pushes it down.

“Touching is a big no-go for Pukey,” He says and I fight back a small smile.

I turn my gaze back to the woman, “And your name?”

She smiles, “Sage. My name is Sage.”

No way. Not possible. Too easy. This can’t be Sage Sage. Finn’s Sage?!

“Rightttt,” I twiddle my thumbs trying to act casual, “And um how exactly do you know Damon?” “He used to be a student of mine.”

Damon smirks, “A longgggg time ago.”

Be casual Y/n. CASUAL.

“How old are you?”

Sage raises an amused brow, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you you should never ask a woman her age.”

“Well, I think that only applies to women who actually age,” I mutter and I see Damon roll his eyes.

“I’m a little over 900 years old. But, who's counting,” Her response has my stomach flipping and I’m fighting the urge to test if I can do a backflip. IT IS HER.

I mean it’s got to be, right? There can’t be that many 900-year-old vampires named Sage.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Our attention is turned toward Bekah who joins us. An annoyed look is plastered on her face as she stares at Sage.

“Easy there Rebekah,” Damon chides, “She used to beat men for sport.”

“That’s a hobby I need to get into,” I remark and Sage sends me a smirk.

“She always was quite common,” Rebekah says. Oh yikes.

“Rebekah, what a happy surprise,” Sage responds.

“What are you doing here, Sage?”

“Well, I hear Finn was finally freed from that casket your rageaholic brother Klaus carted him around in.”

Ohhh. Yet another fan of my man.

“I wouldn’t be too harsh on my brother in front of Y/n here. I’ve heard soulmates have a tendency to get quite prickly when their other half is insulted. Not that you’d know,” Rebekah smirks, and I cringe and silently curse at her as everyone’s attentions go to me.

“I thought your name sounded familiar,” Sage eyes me and within a second Damon positions himself in front of me.

“Touching Pukey is a death sentence, Sage. I would advise against it,” Damon eyes the woman and she rolls her own.

“I’m not stupid enough to do that. But let’s be serious Damon I taught you everything you know. You can’t beat me.”

I position myself so I can see Damon’s face, “Oh, it’s not me you should be worried about. Yes, Pukey here is under my protection, but I’m not the one who would torture you until you're begging for your death. That falls upon…well let’s see,” He picks up his hand and starts counting on his fingers, “Klaus “The Great Evil” Mikeaelson, his noble brother Elijah, the annoying one Kol, Barbie over here, and last but not least your boy toy Finn. Along with all the other supernaturals of Mystic Falls.”

Sage looks from Damon to Bekah who just nods in agreement, “I hate to agree with the bastard but he’s telling the truth. Going against Y/n is going against the Mikaelsons.”

Sage clears her throat, “Well it’s a good thing I mean her no harm then.”

“Yep…sure is,” I mutter.

“Now where can I find Finn?”

“Probably somewhere forgetting all about you,” Rebekah remarks and then reaches over and wraps her arm in mind, “Come, I’ll buy us lunch.”

Before Bekah can fully pull me away I lean towards Sage, “Have Damon give you my number and I can help you.”

Sage’s eyebrows furrow but she still nods.

—

Well, that was a bust.

Rebekah canceled our lunch once she got into the car. After talking to Damon and Sage, Rebekah told me she had forgotten her coat and would meet me back at her car. But when she came back 10 minutes later she was more annoyed and volatile than usual, muttering something about Damon being a dick and other profanities. She apologized to me and said she’d have to rain-check our lunch date to a time when she didn’t feel like murdering everyone around her. I told her not to worry about it and that I wasn’t hungry.

I lied. I’m fucking starving and now I’m home looking at a bare fridge since my mother hasn’t gone grocery shopping in however long. I don’t want to have to go out and get something but at this point, it’s either go and deal with people at the grocery store or starve.

Starving might be better.

I grab my keys though when I realize that Theo still needs to eat dinner. I fling open the front door and- FUCK!

“Fuck me!”

“I’ve been trying, Luv.”

My eyes narrow and my cheeks warm as I stare at Klaus who is watching me with a soft smirk.

“What the hell are you doing here,” I huff out and clutch my chest.

“Well, it’s good to see you as well,” The hybrid replies sarcastically.

I give him a deadpan look and he rolls his eyes.

“My dear sister told me she had to cancel lunch with you so I thought I would ask you if you would accompany me instead.”

I feel a small smile make its way onto my face, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Klaus eyes me for a moment before turning his attention to the chipping white paint of the front door frame.

“I suppose.”

“Damn, don’t sound too excited,” I mutter sarcastically.

Klaus huffs and looks back at me, “That’s not what I…I just meant that” A look of frustration comes over his face while I watch in amusement.

“For being as old as you are you would think you’d be better at this whole date thing,” I smirk at him.

“Well none of the ones before ever mattered the way you do,” Klaus seems to respond without thinking.

I wring my hands and Klaus and I eye each other for a moment before I look away.

“Well, sadly I can’t go out for lunch since my fantastic mother seems to have forgotten to get any groceries for our house. Which means once again I have to go out and get them myself.”

A wave of sadness washes over me and I look to see Klaus’ shoulders drop slightly.

` “But…if you want to come,” I point towards my car, “Shopping with me. I could always have your super strength carry the bags.”

I doubt a one-thousand-year-old hybrid wants to spend his afternoon grocery shopping when he has enemies to fight and-

“I’ll come.”

—

“Princess, I’m immortal and yet with the way you’re driving I fear for my life,” Klaus’ voice comes out sarcastically but with the way I can see him frantically eyeing the road from his position in the passenger seat, I don’t think he’s joking.

I press my foot on the gas as I pass an old woman in a red Ford, “You’re being dramatic. Look we’re here.”

Forgetting my blinker, I whip my car into the small grocery store parking lot and slam it into park.

“See we’re here,” I turn to smile at Klaus but I find him staring wide-eyed at me.

“Is this how you drive all the time?”

I shrug, take the keys out of the ignition, and open my door, “I’ve got places to be, why would I wait in traffic?”

Klaus gets out of the car as well and meets me at the trunk as we begin to walk into the small grocery store, “You passed 4 cars in a 10-minute drive.”

“They were going too slow.”

“You were going 20 over the speed limit,” Klaus’ frustrated voice makes me laugh.

Klaus is quiet for a moment as we reach the automatic door. I turn to him and question and it takes him a second to snap out of whatever stupor he was in.

“What was that all about,” I ask as I grab a cart and lean the front of my body on it.

“Nothing,” Klaus denies as we pass an elderly couple arguing over bananas, “I just don’t get to hear your laugh very often.”

I shrug and smirk at him as we approach the produce section, “Ever think it might just be because you’re not as funny as you think you are?”

“Nope,” Klaus says as he grabs a produce bag and hands it to me.

“Of course not.”

` The bickering couple and the overhead music of an old pop song are the only things heard as I put different fruits and vegetables into plastic bags as Klaus follows behind me. Every time one of my bags gets full Klaus is right there with another. I stare at the cart momentarily and nod.

“I think that's all for produce,” Klaus walks beside me, looks down at the cart, and nods as well.

“What next?”

I stop for a moment and look up at the man everyone else in this town is terrified of and laugh under my breath before turning back towards the cart, pushing it towards the dairy section.

“What was that,” Klaus points a finger at me.

“I just find this funny,” I say simply.

“Find what funny?”

“You,” I grab a gallon of milk when we hit the aisle, “Being here. Grocery shopping. Everyone else in this town is probably trying to plan your demise and here you are shopping for 2% Low-fat milk,” I say as I put the milk in the cart.

“Well, personally I prefer 1%,” His sarcastic reply has me shaking my head, “And yes I know your little friends our out there planning my great demise but…until my death is imminent, which it isn’t if domestic shopping is what you and I do together than,” He grabs a bottle of $3 wine off the shelf and glances at it for a moment before cringing in disgust and putting it back, “Than that’s what we shall do.”

I think about his words as we walk through the store and grab other items, from cereal to pasta, and random snacks, and from time to time, Klaus will throw in his own items.

I lift on my tip toes as I try to grab the sauce can that is on the very top shelf. I hear Klaus mutter a laugh from behind me before I feel his hand place itself on my upper waist to move me out of the way.

“Is it really that hard for you to ask for help,” He comments as he grabs the can with ease and places it into the cart.

“Yes.”

Klaus rolls his eyes but the ghost of a smile on his lips tells me he was already certain of what my answer would be.

I turn back towards the cart and sigh, “I think that’s it.”

Klaus nods and follows behind me as we walk towards the checkout line.

—

“Oh come on, Theo!”

I growl and Klaus, who is putting all the groceries from the cart and onto the checkout stand instantly looks up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Theo just asked me to get his stupid gummy worms,” I look at the cashier clerk, who is slowly ringing in each item, and then look to Klaus.

“Can you-”

“Go,” Is all he says and I’m running towards the candy aisle to find Theo’s stupid ass gummies.

After way too long I find them squished in between some chocolate and peanuts and run back towards the checkout line where the clerk is giving Klaus a dirty look, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

I look at all our bagged groceries and swear under my breath, giving the gummies to the clerk.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” I apologize and I hear a scratchy laugh from behind me.

I turn to see the old woman and man from before waiting in line behind us. She smiles thoughtfully as she leans towards me.

“You’ve got a good man here,” She points to Klaus who is clearly pretending not to eavesdrop, “She kept telling him he had to pay and you’d just have to go back at the end of the line but he wouldn’t budge.”

I turn to look at Klaus but frown when I see him swipe his card through the reader.

“Dude!”

Klaus punches in his pin and just shrugs, “You’re friend over there is still talking to you.”

“He even pays for you,” I turn back to the woman who is looking dreamily at Klaus and if she were 50 years younger I’d probably fight her for looking at him that way. Might still now.

“I have to drag my old bastard here by the ear just to get him up in the morning, let alone to the store with me,” She points to the man beside her who rolls his eyes before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you too, My Everly,” The man says as he puts their groceries on the stand. And even though the woman tries to play it tough the look of love and admiration she has in her eyes gives her true feelings away.

“Married for 47 years and he still knows how to get on every one of my nerves,” She mutters lovingly, “Make sure to keep that one though. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a man look at a woman the way he does to you. When you have something like that child, grab it and don’t let go. And it helps that he’s quite easy on the eyes.”

I nod and bid her goodbye. I turn to Klaus who is waiting by the entrance of the store with our bagged groceries and a knowing look on his face.

“Have a good chat?”

“Oh shut up,” I mutter as I punch him in the shoulder.

“I am easy on the eyes aren’t I?”

Klaus smirks to himself while sighing, “You Mikaelsons need to work on your egos. I swear to God.”

“All of our egos are very much healthy and intact, thank you very much.”

“Ya…that’s the problem.”

—

“Cans go in that shelf over there, Klaus,” I point to the middle shelf right in front of Klaus and he nods, putting the cans of vegetables into the cabinet.

We got back home 20 minutes ago and after Klaus helped me lug all the groceries in, the ones he paid for, he then just started unloading them and placing them into cabinets and the fridge. It’s been almost comical to watch Klaus’ tall frame try to maneuver around in my tiny kitchen, but somehow he’s managed.

“Remind me to buy you a bigger house,” I hear him mutter and I laugh.

“Yes, please do. And make sure it has a big ass library,” I point at him, “Oh! And I want one of those built-in window chairs, so I can read while seeing the stars at night,” I nod at him jokingly but as I stare at the look on his face I freeze.

“That was a joke, Klaus. I know what you’re thinking,” I put my finger in his face and he gives me an innocent look, “Don’t you dare buy me a house. I’ve come to learn how you Mikaelsons like to throw your money around and I don’t want any part of it.”

Klaus gives me an upside-down smile and nods.

“Oh! That reminds me,” I grab the last grocery bag and start dumping out the contents, “Remind me to give your brother back the expensive ass jewelry he gave me for the ball.”

Klaus grabs a loaf of bread and places it in the bread box, “Good luck with that, Luv. My brother can be more stubborn than I am when it comes to you.”

I put a hand on my hip, “Elijah? Stubborn? I highly doubt that.”

The kitchen is quiet for a moment before a loud laugh comes out of Klaus’ mouth. I pause what I’m doing and find myself smiling as I watch the pretty man in front of me.

“Luv,” Klaus manages to get out between laughs, “The only reason you haven’t seen that side of my older brother is because he hasn’t let you…or really doesn’t want you to see that side of him. Don’t get me wrong, Elijah is noble,” Klaus rolls his eyes, “Annoyingly so. But he is also the pettiest being I have come across in over a thousand years. There is no one I know that will play dirtier than him when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. And you luv,” Klaus takes a step closer to me so he can reach out to grab a piece of my hair and twirl it between his fingers, “Are at the top of his list of loved ones.”

—-

“Well this was almost not horrible,” I tell Klaus as I walk him to the front door.

Klaus snorts sarcastically, “And that was almost a compliment. You and I are making great progress.”

I roll my eyes and open the door for him and his smirk drops, “But in all honesty, Y/n… I-,” Klaus pauses as if he’s having a hard time trying to find the words.

“Me too Klaus. Thank you for coming with me today. It was nice not having to do it by myself like usual.”

Klaus smiles, “You know I could always hire someone to do your shopping for you.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You mean compel someone?”

Klaus’ upper lip quirks, “I never said that.”

I tilt my head, “You didn’t need to.”

Klaus rolls his eyes playfully before shrugging, “Well whenever you get tired of mundane shopping let me know, Luv.”

“Goodbye, Klaus,” I push him outside and he lets me.

“Goodbye, Luv.”

—

“Who is this?”

I pad around the kitchen with my bowl of ice cream as I answer an unknown call.

“Sage. Damon’s friend from earlier. You told me to get your number from him,” The feminine voice makes my eyes widen and I place my ice cream down on the counter.

“Oh! Hi! How are you?”

“Um, I’m alright. How are you,” Her tone comes out slightly confused.

“Eh, eating ice cream. What can I help you with Sage?”

“Finding my beloved, Finn.”

Oh, shit ya.

“Oh right, ya me and Finn and tight. He’s been waiting for you,” I say as I take a spoonful of ice cream and put it into my mouth.

“He has,” The hopefulness in her voice makes me smile.

“Umhm. And you didn’t hear this from me but he thinks you are his soulmate.”

Sage is quiet for a moment, “I know he’s mine. Will you help me find him?”

“Ya, sure when do you want to meet?”

“Now?”

Her rushed tone makes me pause and look at my fluffy bunny slippers, PJ shorts and my “I Heart my Turtle” shirt.

“It’s 10 pm?”

“Yes, I know… please Y/n, I’ve waited 900 years for this moment. I can’t wait another second.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “Um ya sure…I’ll text you my address.”

—-

“You’re not going to try to kill me right?”

Sage, who stands at the front of my door raises an eyebrow, “If I even thought about causing you harm Klaus and Elijah would be here in under a minute ripping me to shreds.”

I nod. Good Point.

“Come in.”

Sage takes a hesitant step over the threshold and into my small entryway.

“Your house is…”

I roll my eyes, “What? Quaint?”

“Homey,” Sage smiles softly, “It looks like a home,” She takes off her jacket and holds it in her arms, “The only thing that kept me going after Klaus daggered my Finn was the hope that one day he and I could have something like this… something that we could call our home.”

I fight the urge to let out a loud “awww.”

“Well then, we shouldn’t keep Finn waiting,” I grab my jacket and place it over my PJ shirt.

“Wait…”

I turn at Sage’s voice and my stomach drops when I see the guilty look on her face.

“Please tell me you're not actually going to kill me,” I raise my hands up in a fighting stance and she shakes her head.

“No, but… you’re helping me out of the kindness of your heart so I have to admit something to you…”

I stand there completely quiet and still as she goes on to tell me the information she’s done tonight. From having a threesome with Damon and Bekah (gross) to going into Bekah’s mind to learn that Wickery Bridge was actually made from the same tree that the white oak came from and that if the Salvatore’s got a hold of it they’d kill the Mikaelsons.

“So…what do we do?”

Sage shakes her head, “I don’t know.”

We stand there in silence for a moment before a Theo-level-bad-idea comes to my mind, “I’m going to propose something. But if the cops show up you’re compelling us out of there.”

Sage gives me a worried look.

—

“Ok,” I put my hands on Sage’s shoulders and positioned her in the doorway out of sight, “You stay here and I’ll go get him. When I tell you to come in, you can.”

Sage eyes my hands, “I thought you had a thing about touch? And also why can’t I just come in with you now?” I shrug, “1. After what we just did, I’d say we bonded so I feel like our relationship has progressed, and also I’m touching you over your clothes…it’s skin-to-skin that irks me. And 2. Obviously for dramatic effect.”

I excitedly turn around and whip open the front door to the Mikaelson Mansion, catching the last of Sage muttering something about me fitting right in with the Mikaelsons.

“PHINEAS!!!”

“Bloody hell, Little Doll,” A sarcastic British voice has me rolling my eyes, “We’re all immortal here. No need for the yelling.”

I turn and meet Kol’s brown eyes.

“My bad. Wheres Finn?”

“Elskan?”

“Is that Y/n?”

“Luv, miss me already?”

Elijah, Bekah, and Klaus all enter the foyer with combined looks of confusion, whilst Kol is approaching me with an amused look on his face.

“And what’s with the outfit? You have a turtle?”

I shake my head, “No.”

Kol just frowns.

Elijah, still dressed in his suit even though it’s past midnight, hastily approaches me, “Elskan what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Chill, Elijah,” I smile at him which seems to make him relax a bit, “I’m good. I fulfilling a duty I have for your brother.”

“For me,” Klaus’ annoying smirk is plastered on his face as his eyes roam my body.

“No,” I glare at him and point to my face, “And my face is up here.”

Klaus smiles but turns his attention back to my face.

“Y/N?”

My attention turns towards the top of the stairs where Finn is now standing and I have the fight the urge to ruin the surprise right now.

“I have something for you Finn,” I bounce on the heels of my toes and he descends the grand staircase.

“For me?”

Finn’s unsure look only makes me more excited as I nod my head hastily.

“You can come out now,” I call behind me and all the Mikaelson instantly tense up, probably thinking it’s a threat.

I don’t even have to look behind me to know Sage has entered the room because I’m looking at the utterly bewildered look on Finn’s face.

“Sage? Is that you?”

Finn takes slow steps closer to Sage and I.

“It’s me, Finn… I’ve missed you so much,” As soon as Sage says that Finn is running to embrace her.

I feel my cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard as I watch the couple kiss, embrace, and, share quiet words with one another.

“You did this?”

I look away to find Elijah at my side with a soft expression on his face.

I nod and look back at the couple, “At the ball Finn and I talked and I told him I’d help him find Sage. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to do it… but she kinda just showed up thankfully. Not that Finn needs to know the last part,” I whisper to Elijah.

Elijah doesn’t respond which makes me turn back to him. Once again he has the earth-shattering look in his eyes that makes my knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” I mutter as I try to go back to looking at Sage and Finn so I don’t have to look at him.

“Because I love you.”

Oh.

OH.

I whip my head back towards Elijah so fast I think I might’ve pulled something and stare at him wide-eyed.

“Nuh-uh.”

Elijah’s eyebrows furrow but his lip twitches letting me know he’s finding my reaction entertaining, “Nuh uh?”

“Ya, nuh uh?”

“Well, I do.”

“Nope.”

Elijah lets out a soft sigh, “You’ll accept the love I have for you one day…but even if today isn’t that day I want you to know it. That I do.”

I side-eye the man standing next to me bite down hard on my lip and nod.

“Hold up,” Kol’s annoying voice pierces the air breaking everyone from their conversations.

“What now, Kol?”

I would laugh at Klaus’ annoyed tone if it weren’t for the state of shock I’m currently in.

“Why do the two of you smell like gasoline?”

Everyone in the rooms stops, and I watch as they smell the air and then turn to Sage and I. Sage turns to me though with a raised eyebrow.

“Breaking News,” The loud voice of a newscaster comes from the living room beside us, “Mystic Falls historic Wickery Bridge, has been burned down. Police and firefighters are currently at the scene. Was this a natural fire or something more criminal? When we find out you’ll be the first to know. This is Margot Fell reporting live from Channel 9 news.”

I blink and blow out a low breath as I turn back to the Mikaelsons who already have their eyes glued on me.

“Sooo, Sage and I have something to tell you.”

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covenofagatha · 7 hours ago

Text

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.”

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.”

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff.

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you.

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands.

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her.

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.”

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls.

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?”

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?”

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need.

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you.

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.”

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?”

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes.

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?”

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right?

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.”

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before.

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it?

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy?

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it.

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds.

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?”

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you!

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat.

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again.

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it.

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell.

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it.

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body.

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings.

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent.

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly.

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know.

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.”

Can you?

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish.

It’s clear that you cannot say no.

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant.

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything.

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months.

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.”

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better.

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being.

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip.

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded.

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches.

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else.

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her?

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth.

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her.

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you.

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad.

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough.

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you.

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real.

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back.

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens.

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more.

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed.

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?”

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it.

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly.

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you.

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously.

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in.

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha.

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it.

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum.

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning.

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.”

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils.

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree.

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other.

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck.

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you.

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating.

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

And you think you might actually believe her.

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut

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bettystonewell · 3 days ago

Text

SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 2 - It Should’ve Gone Down by Now

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: ‘Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours… or …Mrs Butters isn’t just messing with Dean’s underwear drawer. She’s messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 3.4K words (multiple POV)

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT—————————————————————PART 1 || PART 3

Part 2: It Should’ve Gone Down By Now

Something else going on, huh? Well, you were right. There was definitely something else going on because Dean felt like shit. He’d dropped a load off twice, and still wasn’t faring much better. What with his insides rumbling and… squeaking, he could liken his stomach to a volcano or a geyser, ready to erupt.

It had to be that turkey.

That bird was the most awesomest thing he’d ever eaten. Moist and meaty. And with those potatoes and the pumpkin and that cheese covered stuff on the side? Man. Who knew vegetables could be so delicious? He’d had two helpings of it, and… oh right. The dairy.

Heh-heh.

Eh. He’d slow down tomorrow.

Mrs Butters had promised him apple pie, and he needed room for that if her cookies were anything to go by.

Or were they your cookies?

Yeah, he still didn’t know what’d gone on there besides you having beef with Mrs Butters, and really? What else could be going on besides Christmas, monster radars and lactose causing him grief again? He could tie all of it back to Chuck, no doubt if you gave him a minute.

He sauntered back to his room, extra careful to not make a sound as he passed everyone else’s. The tips of his boots tip-toeing over the polished floors. But when those tips reached his door, he felt the first niggle of something being up other than his heels.

Pulses, tiny but strong, kinda like how it felt when he got his rocks off, strummed to the beat of his heart. It travelled from his queasy stomach to his now warm junk and had him looking down to find little Dean stirring.

Huh.

Well, okay, nothing that unusual. Maybe for not seeing or thinking ‘bout anyone special, but it’d been a long day full of victories. The vamps, the nymph turned housemaid. A bit of sugar, even though forced and unexpected, was kinda nice. Stressful, but nice, and he figured he’d earned himself some time to rub one out.

Heh. Who was he kidding? He was wired, his gut issues weren’t about to let him sleep, and it was just another regular Tuesday night. He didn’t need an excuse to cook up his own batch of cookies.

Ever.

So he shut his door, locking it behind him in case Mrs Butters let herself in again and went straight into getting everything he needed ready. Lube. Tissues, an old sock… okay, no on the sock...

The even older wood nymph was a little too efficient, but no bother. He had plenty of tissues and a sink by the door. He’d make do with what he had. Just needed to pry open his favourite Miss January 1973 from his collector’s edition and he’d be in business.

Thank god she hadn’t found that.

He ripped his clothes off, ‘cause who needed them anyway, and planted his ass with a wriggle, into the sweet memory foam on his bed. Comfort was key. Getting it hard, even more so, though, surprisingly (or maybe not), he was at full mast. Must’ve needed this more than he thought, and he shrugged and reached for the lube.

He squeezed out a decent dollop and wasted no time wrapping his hand around the base. Ho-ho, he really was in business. Slightly cool, but warming rapidly under his touch, his balls pulled tighter and his skin lit up. Seemed he really needed this.

No, seriously.

As he fisted himself, squeezing just the way he liked with a swipe over his head to boot, his slit was already leaking his own brand of special sauce. Warm and creamy.

Heh-heh. You and your stupid special sauce. His hand was on fucking fire, and you were…

Shit.

No.

Why was he thinking of you when Miss January was right there in front of him? Yeah. He needed to dump whatever thought that was and bring his top head back to Miss January.

Fuck. Miss January.

His free hand spread the glossy pages further apart, and his eyes roamed over her body. She was lovely. A fine and upstanding citizen. With pretty titties he could rub it between, and a round ass he’d plough in and out of. Yeah. Bet she’d like that.

Bet you’d like it, too, and he grunted at the thought of touching.

But, nope. Nuh-uh. He wasn’t going there, remember? He was looking at Miss January with her legs spread nice and wide for him. She had hair the same length as yours if he squinted just right and he squeezed his fingers tight. Dragging perfect pressure up the length of him and to the sensitive tip that twitched when he rubbed that reddened head.

Though wait. Fuck. If your drapes looked like hers, did that mean your carpets matched hers, too? Dean sped up his hand at that thought. And oh, oh, okay. He was doing this and picturing you?

Apparently so.

His hips were lifting off the mattress. His heels dug into the sheets and the plush foam beneath them to keep up momentum. He’d say he was going to hell for that, but he’d already been, and the pull in his stomach, hard to ignore. It was just… Too. Damn. Good.

What would you look like out on display like Miss January? he wondered. Would you let him touch you? Let him spread you open with his fingers?

“Oh shit.” The hand that’d held the mag open swept down to cup his sack and the base of his spine jolted. He was so close. His thumb on the other swiped over his slit, pulling out a large drop of more sauce that kept him wanting for more.

What would you taste like? Better than stupid cookies, no doubt. A little sour when you let him lap you up? Tangy if he spread your pussy open with his tongue and fucked you with it?

“C’mon, Deano,” you’d said under the mistletoe. “This sweet skin aint gonna kiss itself.”

No, it would not, and, yep. Oh, god. He was gonna… Yeah… He was gonna fucking burst.

“Take it, baby,” he said, and his visual changed to you with your mouth wide open. A rim of eggnog ‘round your lips just to hit that sweet visual home.

You’d take it alright. You’d take every last drop, as did his hand and stomach.

There was no time for tissues or socks. Warmth bubbled in his still queasy gut and his pelvis went rigid. His own freckled skin, taking it all as he moaned your name.

That had to be a record time, but he didn’t fucking care up on cloud nine. His languid strokes drew more and more out of him until he was sure he was spent. Only little Dean didn’t go down as expected. Not even slight.

Nope. Dean even rested his wrist, but nothing was changing. There was no refractory period whatsoever. His dick, still straining in his hands, was hard, stiff and throbbing. And those pulses? Yeah, they still hadn’t stopped, either. No. His balls remained tight.

Of course, Dean saw it as a blessing. He still had it, and you… heh… you were kinda hot.

He looked down at the mess and back at the mag, then back to his dick. May as well go again, right? Take his time, ‘cause he did deserve it.

There was just one problem he hadn’t realised yet, and by the end of the night, less than a few hours really, you all would.

You see, you were also wired. And if you couldn’t get to sleep before, you certainly couldn’t get to sleep now.

Not only was your head running through that peck and Dean’s last words to you over eggnog, but your stomach churned and the same, overthinking made it pound.

You and Dean? You and Dean? Fuck no, it’d never happen, but the pounding still didn’t let up.

Your skin felt clammy, too. You’d say you had a fever, but touching the back of your hand to your forehead was no different from placing it anywhere else on your body. So, maybe you weren’t sick, but getting there?

Had… had Mrs Butters given you food poisoning? The cookies? The ham? The cheese-covered cauliflower?

It was all plausible, and you were up outta bed again for the second time that night because lying there, tossing and turning, wasn’t helping. Neither had the eggnog.

Only difference was, last time you walked free and steady. This time you stumbled, tumbled and fell more than once.

Through the halls, past Dean’s room, your hands fumbled over the tiles on the walls. It was a surprise no one woke up to the sound of your distress. The aches. The pangs. They were spreading all over, causing you to groan and gripe.

You’d say you were getting your period. Had it not been for it coming and going two weeks ago, though maybe it was ovulation cramps? That was a thing, right?

Whatever it was, you needed aspirin. Or a hysterectomy, stat. But with only the former available to you, that’s what you sought, and you somehow found your way towards the infirmary. The smoke from a train still running in the war room, making you even more nauseous as you passed by it.

Oh god.

The pain.

You. Were. Going. To. Die.

But so was Dean a short while later, by Sam’s hands, no less, having been called out to, twice. God. Sam was not in the mood for his crap.

No. His jaw tightened, but he held back the sigh that wanted to escape him as his brother’s voice thundered out his name once again.

“Sammy!”

What the hell had he done now? He sounded… pained? Panicked? The last time he’d called out like that, Kevin had been trying to communicate with them from beyond the veil, so Sam presumed it was urgent. At least it better be.

He turned back to his computer screen open on his bed and signed, “I’m sorry,” to Eileen’s confused face. “Can I call you back?” His hands added ‘jerk’ to the mix, and pointed to the door, knowing she’d get a kick out of it.

She giggled in that way that had her nose scrunching up, and Sam’s heart raced. All he could give her in return was an apologetic smile, and another, “Sorry.” This better be quick, he thought.

“No problem,” she said. “Don’t be long.” And with that, she waved and signed off.

Sam stood up, taking his time. There’d been no gunshots or screaming from anyone else, so it wasn’t a life or death situation. Yet. Just needed investigating.

Of course, Dean couldn’t come to him. Never in a million years. It was always Sam making the middle ground like now.

He traipsed the far-enough-distance down the hall to Dean’s room, where he found the door locked. Great. The least he could’ve done was open the damn door.

“Dean?” He knocked, not bothering with being quiet, though he was rather surprised the rest of you weren’t up now, too. How could you not hear his brother’s cries? Your door was only three down. He’d think you’d have been the first to arrive, and he took a step back to check. Yours was open?

Weird.

“Sammy?” Dean finally said, followed by shuffling, ruffling, and footsteps that stopped shy of the crack below the doorframe. “That you?”

“Who else would it be?” he asked.

Silence sounded back.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He jiggled the handle, but a force from the other side made him stop.

“Okay, okay,” Dean said with a defeated tone and a huff, clicking the door open by only a crack.

Having had enough of his antics, Sam pushed it aside and marched in. He scanned the room the second he had, finding Dean and his purple nightgown with ease.

It was hard not to miss.

As was his one-eyed-snake, reddened and sticking out from under it.

“Dude.” He… He… “Would you put that thing away?”

Thank Chuck, Dean listened to that instruction. It was bad enough seeing it before in the kitchen, not hard. This was… This was… “What the hell do you want me for?” And what was he supposed to tell Eileen?

“It’s stuck.”

It… “What do you mean it’s stuck? Just beat it out and go to sleep.”

“You don’t think I tried that already?” Dean said. “I’ve jacked off three times, man.” He raised his fingers in the air. “It won’t go down.”

“Okay. That-that-that is way too much information.” They were brothers, they knew the drill. Knew all about what happened behind closed doors, but you didn’t talk about it. Not a word… unless you were Dean, and you got yourself into something like this. Whatever this was.

“Did you take something?” Sam dared to ask.

“No!”

To which he glared, and Dean grinned.

“Well. Not this time.”

And Sam drew his hand down over his nose and chin, trying to adjust. Why was he always the one cleaning up Dean’s mess? Even just thinking about it like that had him shuddering.

He could see how Dean was upset, though. He had some empathy if he really hadn’t done or taken anything because three times and still being up would probably be painful.

But, “What’re we gonna do?” Dean asked. His hands were now on his thighs in a weird-ass brace. At least the tent was outta sight.

“We? Dean, this is your problem.”

Except it wasn’t only him.

No matter the position you sat or stood in on the infirmary floor, the ache between your legs would not yield. It weighed your whole body down like a heavy period might, only there was no blood. Just wet upon wet that’d soaked through your pyjama bottoms.

Mrs Butters’ housecoat was looking mighty fine right now.

The satin finish with dainty embroidered flowers would cover the stain on your ass, assuming you could even make it back to your room without toppling over again.

The aspirin hadn’t kicked in yet, and your legs were like jelly. The pain, excruciating.

Pins and needles had travelled the back of your calves, and up your thighs to settle in your core and your wet, wet heat. It continued to throb in time to the pounding in your head, and it wouldn’t die down.

You were hot, burning up really. You were buzzing, and you were horny. It just took a minute for you to figure out what your body had been trying to tell you. You’d even tried to assist by flicking the bean.

But then Dean had gone and yelled out to Sam and you’d removed your fingers from your panties quick smart on the off chance one of them came upon you.

It was agony. Pure agony.

Just when you thought you’d get some sleep, this shit had all gone down.

You needed to get off, but you were also desperate for the guys to find you ‘cause something wasn’t right here. Dean’s timbre was doing things to you, and Chuck, a part of you, hoped it would be him that did the finding.

His thick fingers could work wonders. Other parts, more so. And after that kiss earlier, those lips of his were welcome on any piece of skin of yours, inside and out.

“Oh. shit.” More heat gushed out of you, if that were even possible, and your legs clenched together on instinct. It felt way too damn good, and you did it again. And again.

Your ass cheeks were working the aerobic commercial circuit. One squeeze, two. Clench, release. Tighten, relax. Hips gyrated too, and oh fuck. Just a little more.

Screw the guys. Your middle finger was pushing back under the elastic as you spread your legs and got comfortable on the tiled floor like some bitch in heat.

Of course, that’s when Sam found you, and he wasn’t pleased.

You weren’t either.

“Not you, too?” he said, and you just stared back. You should’ve been ashamed… but you weren’t.

First Dean and now you? What the hell was going on and would Sam catch it? Yeah, he didn’t want to explain this to Eilleen.

Something was definitely up, besides Dean’s hard on, and you were no better. Wriggling in his arms, squeezing your thighs together like that.

Nope. Nope. He wasn’t going there.

“Would you stop fidgeting? I’m going to drop you,” he said, gripping you tighter. Though why he’d picked you up was still questionable. You weren’t running away. Quite the opposite, actually, and he needed to be careful. There was no way he was going down that road. Least not with you.

But then you said, “It hurts Sam,” and he had to hold back asking where.

So, the walk back to Dean was awkward, but nothing he’d seen could prepare Sam for what lay ahead.

Seeing his brother’s junk twice was one thing.

Seeing him flogging it was another.

And feeling you squirm and then moan in his arms at the sight? Yeah. That was a whole other level of whack, and Sam wanted to call it quits. Now.

Yes. Something was up all right, though you could no longer see the tent in Dean’s nightgown from where you sat.

The library chair was worse than the ground. At least you’d had some wiggle room there. With only so much space to twist your hips in search of friction and your hands and torso tied up, there wasn’t much going for you on the wooden seat.

You should’ve considered yourself lucky Sam had used a scarf on you, whereas Dean had gotten the rope treatment.

“Why am I tied up when Dean is as well?” you asked, staring at the man in question from across the table. The coil inside wound so tight, you were about fit to burst.

He looked better than you remembered. Pure sex on a stick. Those lips were the perfect weapon to counter your needy cunt, and he was looking at you just as wanton.

Okay. Hold up. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You were a woman who had needs, but this was beyond ridiculous. No one was this… horny.

“You’re looking mighty fine from over here, darlin’.” Dean winked, and it sent tingles to your bits.

No one but Dean, god dammit.

You pressed your thighs together as if your life depended on it. Heaved your chest out like an old-timey harlequin and pushed your pelvis into the chair.

Oh.

Mm-hmm. Mrs Butters would not approve of this, but Dean sure did.

“Would you stop that!”

“But it hurts, Sam.” You elongated his name as far as was possible. The whine you could produce when you wanted to, grating, even to you.

“Yeah, well… I got nothing,” he said, closing the fourth textbook he’d read so far, and scanning the shelves for another. “Something must’ve happened after I left ‘cause you’re the only ones affected. What did you do after Die Hard?”

You grinned at that. Dean did, too, though he had more of a smouldering smirk going on.

“It’s not a Christmas movie!” Sam said, but you both ignored him.

Your tongue swiped over your lower lip. Teeth grabbed it once it had to bite down. Hard. Dean’s jaw had tightened and his shoulders flinched, rippling the bone and muscle under his nightdress that spread taut across his chest. Tighter on account of his arms and the rope. Yes, Dean could rock just about anything. Would probably pick up, even at a bar wearing that thing, if he so dared. The purple brought out his eyes, and when yours met his, they widened as you remembered the last time you’d really looked at them.

“You know how you’re always going with your gut?” you’d said then, and, “Mrs Butters,” you said now.

The eggnog.

You knew it tasted funny, and as far as you were aware, only you and Dean had drunk it. But no. No, no. Maybe it was the mistletoe? You’d both kissed under that, too, and thank Chuck. Dean was also coming to your conclusion.

His head tilted and his face grew pained as he went through the motions. “Dammit. Guess we can’t keep her now.” He pouted, and Sam’s face lit up in delight.

PART 1 || PART 3—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Up next in Part 3 - 14/02

Your white knuckles and sweaty palms held on too tight to the arms of the chair. Damn. That Pink song knew a thing or two, even if the lyrics and your body had differing opinions.

You didn’t want Dean to blow you one last kiss, though. No. Oh no. You’d settle for blowing him, or better yet, him blowing his warm breath over you because everything was on fire. The depths of your panties, the worst. The stiff wood under your ass and your pyjama shorts weren’t doing nothing for you. Neither were your knees rubbing together.

“Would you quit it?” Dean growled, and the echo went straight there.

A shiver. A trickle. A shock? Whatever it was, your cooch clenched tight to trap it and you had to stifle the moan you almost couldn’t. —————————————————————DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007

SNICKERDOODLES UPDATES:

@happyfxckinghorrors

If you'd like to be tagged, please lmk.

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douqhnxtss · 2 days ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 나연¡ 트와이스! ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

✦ some im nayeon headcanons as your super soft girlfriend while being a baddie yourself.

✧˖°. cw! suggestive, fem!reader, softie!nayeon, badgirl!reader, mentions of injuries and blood, reader has a soft spot for nayeon, softie x baddie, grumpy x sunshine

Cupid's Game — 01

────⋆.˚✮🎬✮˚.⋆────────⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆────

soft!gf!nayeon who loves tying bows on you. whether it be in your hair, on your fingers, wrists, neck, even your waist. she loves seeing you, her girlfriend who lives and breathes dark colours and black, covered in her cute pink ribbon bows.

soft!gf!nayeon who never fails to worship your physique. always reaching her hand out to touch the defines muscles of your abs or being in awe at your arms and their muscles.

soft!gf!nayeon who loves covering your face in kisses. again, she'll take her favorite shades of red or pink lipstick, apply it on her lips, and smother your face, covering your face in endless red and pink kisses.

soft!gf!nayeon who almost loses her shit everytime she sees you enter her peripheral vision, covered with blood. an loud shriek escapes her mouth and she's running, yelling at you, tearing up all while you just stay there, listening.

soft!gf!nayeon who makes you come with her when she goes to get her nails done, making you choose the designs based on the colour scheme she gives you. she'd give you liberty to choose the colours buy you'd just select black, navy blue and maroon.

soft!gf!nayeon who has her assigned photographer as you. she's the model and you're her "professional" photographer. finding the right angles to make the sunlight hit her skin just right, making her adjust the poses ever so slightly to have better results in the photos.

soft!gf!nayeon who sits on your lap while gently applying makeup on your face when she's bored. your hands resting on her hips as she brushes the pretty crimson blush on your cheeks while you have the most whipped smile known to mankind on your face.

soft!gf!nayeon who always wears mini skirts, clingy tops and little shorts that she knows get you riled up. twirling in front of you to show you your outfit, your eyes can't help but to perceive the delicious sight, since there's nothing left for the imagination and that's exactly what nayeon likes.

soft!gf!nayeon who tries to push you away while you keep tickling her, pushing her t-shirt, which is yours, up so that you can properly tickle her until there's tears in her eyes, while laughing yourself.

soft!gf!nayeon who is obsessed for you shorter hair, constantly running her hands through your hair, ruffling it and doing whatever, she just needs to mess up your hair 'cause you can't look too good, other girls might try to snatch you away. though, both of you know your going nowhere.

soft!gf!nayeon who is just so easy to manhandle. you practically throw her on the bed, gently, quickly getting on top of her. you trail kisses down her neck, hands back under her shirt, pulling it over her head.

soft!gf!nayeon who will never let you read in peace. you tell her that your gonna finish this one chapter and give her attention but no, she obviously won't listen. so, she keeps annoying you, kissing you everywhere, getting under your nerves and throwing a fit (cutely).

soft!gf!nayeon who has you wrapped around her pretty fingers. she tell you do something, you do it, no questions asked. you wouldn't have to be asked twice to get on your knees if she wants you to. she's your girl and she's the only person who you'll ever listen to.

soft!gf!nayeon who is super clingy and is never not by your side anywhere. when you take her out shopping, she has your arm around her waist. while taking a walk to the park, she sways your intervened hands. with your friends, she makes sure your arm is around her shoulders.

soft!gf!nayeon who outright demands selfies when your not around. you'll have just sent a selfie 20 minutes ago and she'll text you for another. like, you can never get a break. yet, you'll never complain about it either.

soft!gf!nayeon who has her own separate folder on your phone with other 10k photos. yeah, it's crazy. funny meme-esque photos are there, couple photos of her and you, photos of her, your going to have to make a new folder soon.

soft!gf!nayeon who is a sucker for cute dates. pinterest is her bestfriend. going on dates in the alphabetical order, you've done it. colour-themed dates, you've been there, done that. every aesthetic date idea she'll find, she'll make sure you two do that idea. no date plan goes unnoticed in your softie girlfriend, im nayeon's eyes.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — 「cupid's game」

ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

note :: why do I love this sm lmao softie nayeon ftw!!! Say it w me kira Nation!!!

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thelov3lybookworm · 18 hours ago

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Misapprehensions and Confessions

(moodboard creds to @sunshinebingo hehe she made it so pretty 🥹)

Day 1: First kiss

Summary: It has been a regular routine for Gwyn to seek out the spymaster for training. And when he suggests helping her out with getting reaccustomed to society, it doesn't take too much persuasion for Gwyn to agree. But when he doesn't show up one day, Gwyn takes up the liberty to accompany herself into the city.

That one decision is all it takes for it all to fall apart.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 3013

Warnings: none for this chapter, though theres going to be yummy angst in the coming parts heheheh 😋

A/n: SURPRISEE!!! WE'VE BEEN KEEPING IT FROM YOU ALL BUT ME AND POOKIE @sunshinebingo HAVE BEEN WORKING ON A GWYNRIEL FIC TOGETHER FOR @sjmromanceweek 🥹

heres the first part for the mini series for day 1 <3

Read on AO3 here

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Gwyn's pov.

Gwyn adjusted her belt around her waist after making sure her white t-shirt was perfectly tucked into her high-waisted jeans, then turned this way and that in front of her mirror, her high ponytail swishing at her back as she assessed herself from every angle. Deciding she looked good enough for her weekly trip to Velaris, she walked out of her dorm room, closing the door behind her.

By the time she reached the balcony on the highest level of the House of Wind, her hands were slightly shaky and her cheeks a little flushed. And they had nothing to do with the pace at which she had climbed the steps to the man landing of the house. The reason why her heart was beating faster, chest heaving, adrenaline rushing and her lips were parted stood at the railing with his back to her in a black t-shirt and equally black sweatpants, the curls of his dark hair tousled as though freshly washed and barely towelled. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his perfect silhouette and added a bright outline that complemented beautifully with the dark shadows swirling around him.

Gwyn sighed wistfully.

A few wisps of shadows rushed to her at the sound, as excitable and ticklish as they always were. Their nuzzling caused her to giggle and their master to turn around.

“Hello, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn laughed, not yet able to look at him thanks to the shadows who wouldn’t stop circling her.

“Alright, alright, I missed you too,” she said to the shadows. “You saw me this morning at training. And you, little sir,” she pointed at one in particular, “stayed with me for a good hour after.”

The one shadow booped her nose and settled on her shoulder and remained there even when the others moved away from her face so she could see their master. When Gwyn was finally able to look Azriel in the face, she found him staring at her with a look that caused her cheeks to burn.

Gwyn wondered if she would ever be able to control her blushing in his presence. Wondered if the hazel eyes looking at her would ever not make butterflies come to life inside her.

Today marked the third month since their first outing. It had been during one of their private training sessions at night that Azriel had proposed to be her companion while she braved one of her biggest fears; exploring the world outside the library of the House of Wind. Three months of walking beside Azriel as he showed her around Velaris and a few other places of the Night Court, drinking in every information he offered, his advice and praises, leaning on him for security or simply comfort. Three months during which her gratefulness and admiration for him had grown exponentially, turning into something akin to what the protagonists in the novels she read felt for their love interests.

Being an avid reader and a good observer, Gwyn knew that there were signs that did not lie. There were certain things heard and seen that hinted at those which remained unvoiced. The stolen looks and the smiles, the banter and subtle flirting, the touches that had gone from accidental to very much intentional and welcomed; all of these combined with the meddling and teasing from their friends and family made Gwyn hope that, perhaps, if she dared be courageous in ways she hadn’t been yet, she could live a life where her daydreams would be reality.

Unfortunately, no amount of reading or even praying had helped her take the leap from hoping to actually confessing her feelings to Azriel. What if she wasn’t enough? Not pretty enough for this stunning male, not strong enough to be worthy of him, her mere 29 years no match to his 500 of existence and experience?

And yet, the way those hazel eyes were looking at her right now, appreciating and silently approving of her chased away any doubts, his smile making them float away like the shadows that brushed her cheek as they made their way back to him. He extended a hand towards her.

“You ready, Berdara?”

Her name being voiced by his deep voice caused a fluttering in her heart. And a tingle in other places of her that she blushed even more just thinking about. It got worse when she took his hand and felt a shiver run up her arm at the feel of his skin.

“To spend time with you? Always.” She admitted with a smile.

Azriel brought her hands to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles worthy of a romance novel. Gwyn’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she followed him closer to the railing. As she had done many times before, she wrapped her arms around Azriel’s neck and allowed him to effortlessly lift her up bridal style.

Gwyn was enveloped in his arms and his scent, his shadows acting as another blanket that wrapped around them both. It almost felt like they were pulling Azriel and her somehow closer.

“You still won't tell me where we're going today?” She asked.

His wings began spreading behind his back, the sunlight revealing the blue and purple veining on them.

“You’ll see when we get there soon.”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” She insisted.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it for fear that your head grows bigger, you’re too smart for me to give you a hint without risking that you find out before we get there.”

Gwyn frowned at him, although she glowed inside at the compliment.

“If it sucks, I’m putting a stop to our weekly outings.” She warned him with a lie.

Azriel looked down at her with a tilt of his head. The smirk that tugged at his lips made him look downright sinful.

“You won’t.” He said.

“How can you be so sure?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Because,” he leaned down, his face now so close that the tips of their noses almost brushed, “You won’t dare deprive us both of our favourite day of the week.”

He shot up into the sky without warning. Gwyn squealed and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

She wanted to retort and challenge his last claim. But he was right. And he knew that he was right. It was something they had told each other before, word for word even. A confession that had come out during a picnic on a cliff overlooking the sea, in between a conversation about their respective pasts and another that had been filled with laughter.

There had been another confession on the edge of her lips back then, threatening to spill out without her permission as he had cradled her cheeks to swipe away her tears. But fear had made her swallow it, just like it did every time they met up.

Gwyn had promised to herself that she would be brave and strong. But confessing one's feelings, she had realised, was much harder than luring a beast or cutting down any physical enemies. She was a Valkyrie, always ready to fight and protect. She had been trained to use every weapon that had been put in her hands and had learned how to turn seemingly harmless objects into deadly ones. Yet Azriel was a ribbon that she had yet to find out how cut.

One day, she vowed as she gazed at him while they flew above the clouds. Soon, she decided when he pulled her slightly higher and brushed his lips to her forehead.

The flight to their destination was shorter than Gwyn had anticipated. They landed in front of a building at the border of Velaris. But while she had always seen it in a state of construction, now the green tarpaulin had been removed to reveal a place that looked like it had come out of a dream.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel's pov.

Azriel had been on many dates. Romantic, platonic, work related. He had been to plenty.

But none compared to this.

The time he spent with Gwyn. Watching her smile freely, gave him a sense of purpose, a sense of him doing something right. She was beginning to open up to him, and it made him feel like he was on top of the world. The fact that she trusted him, no one else, to take her down to the city and get reacclimated to socialising after a traumatic event no female- or male, for that matter- should have to go through was truly a freeing feeling.

It made him feel like he was not just inherently bad, like he wasn’t just a sadist who tortured people for a living and a messed up sense of obligation. The tainted hands he owned, the shadows that he used to spy on people, they could be used to bring comfort, happiness.

They could make someone feel secure, safe.

Even now, as Azriel placed his hand gently on the small of Gwyn’s back, the feelings remained. He led her into the beautiful two-story white stone building with wide terraces on each level. Gwyn stared at the place in awe, marveling at all the green plants they had been able to fit on the ceilings and at every column and railings. Azriel watched with rapt attention as her eyes roved over every surface, wide with wonder.

As they climbed over the few steps that led to the entrance, he nudged Gwyn, motioning with his free hand. Her lips parted as her gaze landed on the fountain that glimmered inside no doubt what was the lobby, only confirming this place as coming out of a dream. It was the epitome of elegance and romance.

And Azriel wondered if she too described this place as that. As something romantic.

Wondered if she knew he felt such feelings. That there was a reason he brought her to such an intimate place.

He told her to wait, then hurried over to the reception. One of the workers dressed from head to toe in pristine white garments tinted with light gold shimmer led the two to a table in the far back.

The inside was almost opposite from the outside in that the outside seemed to be shining under the afternoon sunlight. The interior, though, was darkly lit.

Everything seemed mysterious, from the candles that hung from sconces, to the ones that stood proudly on the candelabras on the white cloth covered tables. Stained glass windows covered large portions of the walls, changing colour with every step they took, further adding to the dark allure. One moment, they displayed a plethora of reds, then blue the next step.

It was easy to assume the glass panes were most likely charmed.

The worker stopped at a table next to a window that displayed a beautiful portrait of a woman peering up at the skies, her eyes upturned and hands raised in prayer. It almost looked haunting.

Azriel hurried to pull Gwyn’s chair back for her, then walked over to the other side to settle down himself.

“Azriel, this place is beautiful.”

Even the syllables of his name rolling off her tongue made his ears turn warm.

“You think so?” She nodded, her eyes still wandering around. “So you like it?”

She looked almost offended that he’d even asked such a stupid question. “Of course I like it! Anyone would love this place. It is so beautiful.”

Azriel folded his arms over the table, smiling as he gazed at Gwyn. “It opened recently, so I thought we could try out the food.”

She nodded. “I’ve seen this place before, but I think they were under construction then.”

He hummed. “So, what have you been up to this past week?”

She groaned, leaning back in her seat and dragging her hands down her face. “Don’t ask. Merrill has been bothering me so much. It’s almost like she’s trying to kill me or something.”

Azriel raised an amused brow. “Why is that?”

Her brows furrowed in annoyance. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Me? Laugh at you? Never.” He raised his hands, his smirk widening.

She huffed. “Go away. I won’t tell you.”

He chuckled, mirroring her position. “I’m sorry, I won’t laugh. Please, tell me how the awful female has been causing you woe.”

“One day, I will force you to work with her, and you won’t be so amused anymore.” She grumbled under her breath.

It only took a bit more encouragement, but she finally began speaking, forgetting his initial disrespect to her frustrations. She spoke throughout the whole time they spent in that restaurant, and Azriel was only too happy to listen.

Time lost its meaning, and before long, they were walking side by side down the market square.

“Can we go home?”

Azriel glanced over at her, then towards where the sun was setting. “Why?”

She sighed. “I need to finish researching some nymph-fae relations from centuries ago. Merril wants me to hand them in before tomorrow.”

Azriel’s lips twitched, but he nodded dutifully, avoiding her narrowed eyes as he bent to scoop her into his arms.

“One day, Azriel. I will make you pay for making fun of me.”

Azriel only looked up to the skies, then pumped his wings, catching the breeze and gliding over it. She squealed, her hold tightening on his neck. Azriel found it adorable, how she never really got used to flying. Each time, she’d make surprised noises and cling to him tighter.

“Would it kill you to give me a warning?!” She said into the skin of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He’d be lying if he denied not warning her before jumping into the skies on purpose.

Lights were beginning to come on by the time he levelled out, and he squeezed Gwyn’s waist, prompting her to glance down. She smiled, her eyes tracking over all the tiny lights and their reflections off of the Sidra.

“I can never get used to this.”

He said nothing, just watched her. Sure, Velaris was beautiful and he himself remained in awe of the city, but nothing was more beautiful than Gwyn smiling. The way her eyes twinkled, the way her skin crinkled around her eyes and lips, the way her freckles shifted. Everything about her had him hypnotised, and he would never, ever, complain about anything in his life if he got lucky enough to see the sight all day, everyday.

For now, though, he was grateful he could even see the beautiful sight twice a day at training.

Too soon for Azriel’s happiness, his feet made contact with the floor on one of the house of wind’s balconies. It was the one closest to the library. He didn’t even know why he always picked this particular balcony to land on, but maybe in his subconscious, he wanted Gwyn to feel safer by landing in the place closest to her place of comfort.

Gently setting Gwyn on her feet, he straightened. She turned to him, and he knew what was coming.

It was a ritual, almost. After every outing of theirs, Gwyn would turn to him, smile, thank him, and then kiss his cheek.

It always left him a blushing mess.

He could see her preparing to rise onto her tiptoes, smiling up at him. Maybe if he kissed her cheek before she could, maybe he wouldn’t be left flustered?

Yes. And she might get shy and blush…It would be perfect, his shadows whispered excitedly.

But… no. It would be too forward of him.

Why? They complained.

Because I do not know if she is comfortable enough with me kissing her, he replied to them.

She likes master.

No. And even if she does, I do not know if-

Here’s the thing about his shadows. They were just that, shadows. Wispy, dark tendrils of smoke. But they could be corporeal when he needed them to be.

And being their own beings, when they wanted to be.

So Azriel wasn’t expecting them to become semi solid at that moment as Gwyn’s lips were barely a hair's breadth away from his skin.

Nor was he expecting them to push against his other cheek, making him turn his head in surprise.

Azriel’s eyes widened as he realised the proximity between him and her. He only had a moment to turn his head away, hoping her lips would land on her cheeks.

Alas, he was too slow.

Her lips grazed his cheek, sure, but they also touched the corner of his.

He froze, his gaze fixed on her face, the skin tinting a deep, beautiful shade of red. She pulled away quickly, her heartbeat so loud that Azriel could almost hear it.

He swallowed, his own heart beating in his throat. Blood rushed to his neck and ears as he looked at her, her eyes wide and lips parted.

I could get used to this sight, he thought.

But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. He needed to apologise.

“Gwyn I-”

“Bye-”

They both spoke, then stopped. Waiting for the other to speak. Neither of them did.

It got so awkward to the point that Azriel sighed, taking a step away. Maybe it had not affected her as it did him. Maybe he had imagined her heart beating quicker. Maybe he imagined the blush on her face.

It was not a big deal, he wanted to tell himself.

But he knew that it was. A very big deal. At least to him.

But still, he bowed his head, offered her a smile. Motioned for her to speak.

“See you next week, shadowsinger.” She mumbled with a sweet smile. She didn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the one shadow that had refused to leave her side the entire outing and was now wound around her wrist.

He watched her go, feeling the need to say something but fearing it wouldn't be enough.

It had never been before.

He had never been. Not for himself, not for anyone.

But, for Gwyn, could he ever be?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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justanothermemestrider · 2 days ago

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Nothing Ever Stays Dead - An Epilogue

I couldn't help myself. I had to write out what life post-NESD looks like for our main couple- a snap shot of what they're doing, where their state of mind is at and what their relationship looks like right now.

If you need a refresher or to read the main story, the masterlist is here.

So, hope you guys enjoy this one. And also, thanks to @nereidof40k for letting me borrow her oc Mirian for a quick mention near the end :)

Ellicent holds the offending pieces of steel together in her left, prosthetic hand. In her right, a plasma welder hisses and spits. She reaches up, bringing the tip of the flame to the crack that's almost split the armoured plate in two. It's a piece of a Rhino's tread armour-- the Astartes go-to armoured vehicle. It's supposed to be painted Ultramarine blue, but with the damage it has sustained, it's stripped all the way down to the steel.

Blue sparks burst from where the plasma cutter touches the metal. It stings her eyes despite the protective goggles she's wearing. But through the smoke, she can see it's working. Under the impossible heat of the plasma, the severed edges of the split start to melt. Ellicent clenches her left fist, digging the ceramite-tipped nails into either side of the armoured plate and dragging them closer together. The melting metal meets in the middle, filling the gap. Ellicent allows herself a self-satisfied smile. Almost done, now. Just a little-

A bolt of pain spikes through her left shoulder. For half a second, her entire bionic arm goes limp.

"Shit!" Ellicent hisses. She kills the plasma welder, drops it to the floor, hurries to catch the plate with her other hand. But it's too late. With a deafening clang, the plate clatters against the floor. The crack down its centre reopens. Molten ceramite dribbles from it like liquid magma. Tearing off her goggles, Ellicent clutches her bionic arm. The nerves are still twinging, making the fingers twitch and jerk. Ellicent glares at it in loathing. She swears that the thing glares right back at her.

"Is all well over there, Ellicent?" a soft. vox modulated voice implores from behind her. "That was quite the bang."

Ellicent winces. Rising to her feet, she turns in the direction of the voice. "Yes, Galeo, I'm okay. Sorry for the... the disturbance."

The Magos looks at her through spherical, turquoise eye lenses embedded within a bronze face plate. It looks like a mask- completely devoid of emotion or expression. His voice, however, has a warm soft-spokenness that reminds Ellicent an awful lot of her beloved late father.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says. "From what I can see, you are not even at fault."

At first, Ellicent doesn't understand. Then, with one, skeletal hand, Galeo points at her limp left arm. As if on cue, the bionic spasms, sending another lance of agony streaking through her shoulder. Ellicent grimaces. But it isn't only from pain.

"Yeah," is all she manages to reply.

Galeo glides over to her, his robe rippling as the scores of robotic legs beneath them scuttle along. Another pair of robotic limbs protrude from his shoulders, tipped with various blades, claws and other such mechanical instruments. These unfurl as Galeo reaches Ellicent's side.

"May I?" he asks, nodding towards her prosthetic.

Wordlessly, Ellicent nods, releasing her right hand and dropping it to her side.

Galeo stoops down to her level and gently takes her arm in both hands. He holds the limb out, and the robotic arms atop his shoulders extend their manipulator claws. They grasp Ellicent's arm by the bicep and elbow. In a flurry of tiny, mechanised movements, they strip away the outer plates and begin working on the synthetic muscle beneath. Weaving, reweaving, detangling and reconnecting. Ellicent grits her teeth a little. Vaguely it feels like a dozen ants are tugging on her nerve endings. Not painful, but not pleasant, either.

"Ah, I see the issue," Galeo says.

"Let me guess," says Ellicent. "It's rejecting me."

"So to speak," the tech priest admits. "It seems the bionic's machine-spirit is... cautious of those within the xenos implants."

His careful choice of wording makes Ellicent smirk. It also fills her stomach with stones. "Cautious?" she says. "More like disgusted."

"I detect no such sentiments from this spirit. Rather I detect intimidation. Suspicion."

Ellicent looks at the ground pensively. "Same, same," she mutters.

The servos in Galeo's neck squeak as he turns his head to look at her. "Semantics aside," he says. "It is a problem I believed I had solved with this latest prosthetic. But, clearly, I was mistaken. A long term conundrum to be sure. But in the short term, it is an easy, albeit temporary, fix."

The nerves in her arm give a final, uncomfortable twinge. Then, as efficiently as they'd stripped them, Galeo's robotic arms reassemble her prosthetic's outer plating and screw it back into place. Once they've retracted out of the away, Ellicent clenches her fist and gives the elbow and shoulder joints a good flex.

"How does it feel now?" Galeo asks.

Ellicent opens her palm. Touches each finger to her thumb, one at a time. "Still a little stiff," she admits. "But it's always like that after it's been rewired. Should go away on its own; it usually does." She gives him a smile. "But other than that, it's perfect. Thank you."

"That's quite alright," Galeo says warmly. "And before you remark on it, do not worry about the mess. I'll have a servitor or two tend to it."

Ellicent's smile turns sheepish. "Thanks," she murmurs.

"Magos Galeo!"

Both Ellicent and the Magos turn around.

From the main entrance of the engineering chamber, almost too tall to fit through the doorway, approaches a broad figure clad in crisp white robes. His dark hair is shaved around the temples and grown into a short, well-kept mop on the top of his head. He's got the square, rugged face that all space marines have, though there's a kindly softness around his eyes that makes him stand out from many of his brothers.

"Greetings, Captain Ventris," Galeo says. "It has been a long time."

"I was hoping I'd find you here. I've something I need to discuss with you." Uriel Ventris' is cordial, but serious. When he sees Ellicent, however, he offers a smile. "Ellicent! How good to see you again."

Ellicent returns his smile. She hasn't known Ventris very long- hardly longer than a week, in fact. But that time has been more than enough for her decide that Ventris is, as they say, one of the good ones.

"Cap'n," she greets him with a casual half-salute. "Good to see you, too."

"Fortuitous, as well; I was hoping to find you here, too."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes." Ventris' smile turns coy. It's an odd expression to see on a space marine, but somehow, he manages to pull it off. "I wanted to pass on that your sergeant is looking for you."

Suddenly, all of that sinking weight in Ellicent’s gut from before evaporates. "That so, huh?"

"Indeed it is," Ventris replies. "He'd have come himself, but he was stuck in a debriefing with the Chaplain. It should be wrapping up by now, though. If you head up to the situation room now, you'll probably catch him on his way out."

Ellicent looks at Galeo expectantly. The tech priest inclines his head in affirmation. "The other enginseers can finish things here," he says. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you," Ellicent says. Then, to Ventris. "Really was good seeing you again, Uriel. Take care of yourself, yeah?"

"I shall try," the captain replies with a chuckle. "As unto you."

With that, Ellicent leaves the two men to it. Headed down the corridor, bound for the nearest elevator.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The situation room is on one of the centre most levels. Oval shaped with chamber-like walls and decorated ceiling, it has enough space to hold an entire company of space marines while still having room left over for seating and pict-projectors. At least that's what Gadriel has told her; Ellicent herself has never been inside. She's never been allowed. But she knows the way well enough. And after only two wrong turns, she finds herself standing before the enormous, automatic doors, currently sealed shut from the inside in the name of confidentiality. Ellicent takes up a spot on the wall beside them. Sliding down to sit of the floor, extending her necronian leg out in front of her. She thanks the Emperor everyday that she'd been allowed to keep it. The memory of her arm's failures- both today's and the dozens that have come before- are painfully fresh in her mind. She isn't sure if she could cope with a broken malfunctioning leg, too; she'd barely even be able to walk.

But it's not just that.

Absently, Ellicent holds her left hand in her right. It's larger that her necronian hand had been; the fingers are thicker, the edges of its metal more jagged. Each its fingertips are encased in ceramite, which is sharpened to points as sharp as talons. It's a monsterous looking thing, really. More similar in appearance to a torture device than a protesthetic limb. How surprising, then, that a device as fearsome as this is utterly repulsed by the machine spirits within Ellicent's body.

Or is it?

The rumble of the doors beside her opening distracts her from her spiralling thoughts. She gets to her feet just as the first of the space marines are leaving the room. There are nine in total. Six of whom, Ellicent recognises as being from squad Talasa- the same Astartes who'd rescued her, Gadriel and Titus from the Drukhari ship Dark Star, almost two weeks ago. They acknowledge Ellicent with curt, yet cordial nods. She returns the gestures in kind.

Chairon passes through next. The moment he spots Ellicent, his face breaks out into a grin. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Lady Gadriel herself," he says. "What a pleasant sight to end a brief upon."

Ellicent bows her head in an exaggerated curtsy that borders on facetiousness. "Oh, my Lord Chairon, you flatter me so!"

Chairon chuckles. Already, she can see his retort sitting on his lips, but before he can open his mouth, he is pushed aside by someone at his back. "That's enough out of you. Remember to whom you're speaking."

Gadriel's tone is clipped, almost snappy. Standing beside Chairon now, his pretty, delicate features are prickly with irritation. Too much so to have been caused only by his brother's remarks.

"Easy, darling," Ellicent says, using the same tone she might if she were calming an agitated dog. "It's only banter." Walking up to him, she wraps both arms around his forearm. "Everyone here knows I only have eyes for you."

The bravado drains from Gadriel's face. Colour creeps up his neck to colour his cheeks, his silver hair and dull-coloured robes making it stand out all the more. Ellicent exchanges amused glances with Chairon. The other ultramarine gives her a little wave. "I'll see you two around, then," he says before taking his leave. Ellicent returns his wave, while Gadriel simply watch him go.

"You weren't actually jealous just now, were you?" Ellicent asks.

Gadriel looks at her sharply. "What? No, of course not."

Ellicent raises a dubious eyebrow. The red in Gadriel's cheeks deepens a little and he looks away with a scowl. "Fine," he murmurs. "But it wasn't... intentional."

"A symptom of some other frustration?"

"That's the one."

Ellicent runs her organic hand up and down his bare forearm, mindful not to disturb the neural ports embedded there. "Wanna talk about it?"

Gadriel sighs. "There's nothing really to say," he admits. "It's just that Throne-damned Chaplain, stirring the proverbial pot without cause or meaning."

"The Chaplain?" Ellicent's heart leaps into her throat.

Seeing it on her face, Gadriel adds hurriedly; "Don't worry, it's nothing to do with us. It's something else. Something that happened between Titus and I, way back during the Avax campaign."

"The Avax campaign..." Ellicent combs her memory. Realisation dawns. "You don't mean that... that thing with the astropath, do you?"

The look on Gadriel’s face is confirmation enough. Ellicent furrows her brow, both concerned and confused. "But why? That was years ago, wasn't it?"

"It was," Gadriel says bitterly. "But even so, the Chaplain hounds me about it. And the strangest part is that he doesn't even seem interested in why I was suspicious of Titus, either. Rather, he demands to know why I am no longer."

"Sounds like he's digging for dirt," Ellicent murmurs.

"That's exactly what it is," Gadriel replies. A line of tension feathers along his smooth, square jaw. "And it grates me like nothing else."

Ellicent bites her lip, but says nothing. Gadriel continues. "Titus doesn't deserve such suspicion. He never has. The only reasons I subjected him to it were my own, personal biases, and I was wrong to fall victim to them. Time and time again, I have explained this to the Chaplain. And still, he continues to press me. Because for whatever reason, he's convinced Titus is guilty of... I don't know. I don't even think he knows. I think that whoreson has some personal slight against the lieutenant, and he's trying to leverage my mistake to... well, as you said, to dig up dirt."

"Doesn't sound like behaviour very becoming of an Astartes chaplain."

Gadriel snorts. "Yes, well. It seems that not even space marines are immune to human pettiness."

Ellicent laughs, but only briefly. And afterwards, her demeanor is serious again. "There's something else though, isn't there?"

Gadriel makes a sound that's part wince, part sigh. She can practically feel the reluctance radiating from him. "Maybe," he says shortly.

Ellicent raises her eyebrows expectantly.

Gadriel sighs again. "I suppose I... I don't enjoy being reminded of it. Of Avax, I mean."

"Titus has forgiven you for it though, right?" Ellicent says.

He smiles pensively. "I don't think he even blamed me for it in the first place. Not even at the time. No, it's not that. It's..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. I just... I'd rather leave such things in the past, if I can. I don't like being reminded of my mistakes."

"I know you don't," Ellicent says gently. "You always were a perfectionist; not just in your actions, but your moral compass, too." Gently, she resumes rubbing his arm. "Always striving to keep it pointed north, no matter how impossible the situation might be."

"Avax wasn't an impossible situation," Gadriel murmurs. "It was my fault. My weakness-"

"Bullshit it was weakness. You were misinformed. You didn't know all the facts, and Titus wasn't exactly forthcoming with them, either, I might add."

"So it was his fault?"

"'Course not," Ellicent says. "He had his reasons at the time. Same as you. It was a shitty situation, and you both did what you felt you had to based on what you both knew. It's as simple as that."

Gadriel stares at the ground. His expression, however, isn't morose. It's thoughtful. He slips his arm out of her grip, putting his hand around her shoulders and gently pulling her into him. Her head comes to rest just below his armpit.

"You're right," he says finally. "I know you're right. Just a matter of actually believing it, now."

Ellicent leans into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You will. Just give it time. And if you forget, I'll remind you."

Gadriel chuckles. Against her ear, Ellicent feels the sound reverberating through his rib plate. "How did I ever make it this far without you?"

"From what I know? Through sheer luck and the mercy of the Emperor alone."

Gadriel laughs again. "You wound me, Ellie. You're not wrong, but you wound me nonetheless."

"Lucky they built you so tough, then," Ellicent smiles.

Gadriel squeezes her shoulder. "How about you, my love?" he asks. "The Magos has been good to you, I hope?"

The question is harmless, but Ellicent can hear the threat veiled thinly behind his tone. It makes her chuckle. "Don't worry, Galeo has been fantastic to me. Very respectful with his studies, and very patient in showing me all my new duties."

Gadriel gives a satisfied grunt. "And what about the new arm?"

Now, Ellicent falters. Her chest winds itself into a twisted knot, and she draws her left arm in close to her chest. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah it's... it's okay."

Gadriel pulls her closer to him. She glances up to find him chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Tell me," he says softly. "Is that "okay" as in you're okay? Or "okay" as in you don't want to talk about it yet?"

Ellicent swallows tightly. "The second one," she murmurs.

"I see." Squeezing her shoulder again, he drops to one knee so he is at her eye level. His expression is as gentle as his tone. "What do you need for that to change? Time? Privacy?"

"Second again," she replies. "It's... it's about the eighty percent."

Gadriel understands her meaning right away. "Alright. Head to our quarters, then. I will meet you there."

"You won't just come with?"

He clenches his jaw. Tenderly, he strokes her cheek with his thumb. "Not with the Chaplain and his staff slinking about," he says.

"Ah. Fair enough."

Rising to his full height once more, Gadriel flashes her a small, knowing smile. "I'll see you soon."

Ellicent nods. Still, her stomach feels like it's full of rocks, but the lump in her throat has shrunken a bit. As she parts ways with Gadriel, she clasps the bicep of her left arm. The cold of its metal bites her palm and fingertips. Even after holding it for several minutes, it refuses to warm even a little.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just as promised, Gadriel is already there when Ellicent arrives at their shared quarters. He's sitting at the head of their bunk, his back resting against the wall. The moment Ellicent steps inside, he's waving her over, ordering her to come and join him. With a soft-spoken laugh, Ellicent kicks off her boots and does just that.

Laying down within his arm, she curls up up against his broad, chiselled chest, draping an arm across his middle and resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. Gadriel's arm loops around her waist. In long, soothing strokes, he caresses her back with one giant hand. "Alright," he says softly. "Now, tell me; what's troubling you, my love?"

Ellicent bites her lip. A reluctant sigh escapes through her nose. "My arm," she finally says. "It had another spasm today. Galeo managed to fix it, but not permenantly."

"Why not?" Gadriel asks.

"'Cause of my implants. The bionics keep rejecting them. No matter how many adjustments Galeo makes or new models he builds, same thing always happens." Ellicent pauses. Fingers of dejection creep into her voice. "They hook up to my body, see all the alien tech inside me, and their spirits just freak."

"Sounds like the Magos' problem, no?"

Ellicent stares at her hand, the one resting on Gadriel's belly. "No," she murmurs. "No. It's... it's me. I'm the problem."

A beat of silence passes. Taut with undeclared sadness. Gadriel breaks it with a soft, gentle question. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's true," Ellicent says quietly. "Or it feels true, at least. Feels like I'm... tainted. Or damaged. Or... or just plain wrong."

She rambling a little now, letting all the doubts and terrible things her thoughts have spun spill out into the open air. With every one she says, her throat closes over a little more. Tightening her voice and bringing tears to her eyes. Gadriel listens dutifully. But as she goes on, the hand around her waist tightens and she hears his breath hitch. "Forgive me, but I must to stop you there. I can't bear listening to you talk like that any longer."

His tone suggests he's personally offended. Despite herself, it makes Ellicent laugh. "Gadriel-"

"I'm serious, Ellie." He covers the hand she has resting across his middle with his- none other than her prosthetic one- and squeezes it tightly. Even with its imperfect nerves, Ellicent feels it no less potently. "For Terra's sake, you're not tainted or damaged. You're a survivor. You should bear your implants like battle scars; evidence of your overcoming impossible odds with your dignity and humanity intact. That's how I see them. And everyone else who cares for you- the Magos, my brothers- that's how they see them, too."

"The laws of the Imperium might disagree."

"You mean the same laws that believed Demetrian Titus a heretic?"

That makes Ellicent smirk. "Fair point, that."

Tilting his head down, Gadriel plants a long kiss on the crown of her head. "It's more than fair," he whispers. "It's the truth, Ellie. I mean that."

Befoee she has the chance to swallow them, tears are welling in Ellicent’s eyes. An invisible weight has evaporated from her chest, and suddenly her prosthetic doesn't feel so cold and stiff.

She kisses Gadriel lightly on the collarbone, then on the side of his neck. "Thank you," she whispers.

Gadriel pulls her closer. "Anytime," he whispers back.

"You're the best."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Of course; you wouldn't have settled for me if I weren't."

Despite the tears in her eyes, Ellicent can't help but smile. "That was a good save. For a second there, you almost sounded arrogant."

"Who, me? I would never."

Her smile breaks as she starts laughing. From Gadriel's attempt at humour, sure, but more than anything, it's from the sudden, overwhelming release of tension from her body. She hadn't realised how bad it'd been; how tightly insecurity had been clutching her, how frayed anxiety had left her nerves.

And all it had taken to relieve both was a but few moments in Gadriel's arms.

This is why Ellicent loves him. Why, in the moments where she'd lost all hope, she'd drawn strength from him instead. He completes her. He balances her. He fills the gaps in her mind and mends the holes in her heart. And he does it all without even having to try.

Eventually, after her laughter has died away, Ellicent lifts her head gazes up at Gadriel. Even from this angle, he's inhumanly handsome. Another thing she loves about him. "I ran into Ventris earlier. He told me you were looking for me. Needed me for something."

Gadriel's eyes widen slightly, as if only just remembering. "That's right, I did. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Well, go on then," Ellicent says.

"There's someone I want you to meet. A baseline woman. A kind soul, but a lonely one. She could use a friend like you, and I believe you'd like her a lot, too."

"Oh yeah? What's her name."

A smile colours Gadriel's voice. "Lady Mirian Valerius."

"Valerius? As in House Valerius?!"

"The one and only."

Ellicent gapes at him. The faculty for speech has fled her entirely. "But- how? Why? How did she even-"

Gadriel interrupts her babbling with a chuckle. "It's a long story from what I've heard. But it is also hers to tell."

Ellicent just blinks at him. "I-" she eventually stammers. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... You know. Would it be safe? I mean, she's a noblewoman. If she were to learn... what I am-"

"What happened to you, you mean," Gadriel corrects.

Ellicent smiles. In gratitude she nuzzles her face into his neck. "Sorry, what happened to me. If she were to learn of that, what if she... I don't know... told someone? Someone powerful?"

"If I thought she might do that," Gadriel says. "I would never have suggested it."

Ellicent can't disagree with him there. "Alright. I'll try and track her down."

"Thank you." She feels his lips press against the top of her head. "Make sure you tell me how it goes."

Ellicent nods against his chest. "I will."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @passionofthesith @finchly-tintinnabulation @justfreakynothingelse @mooniequeen

#warhammer 40k #space marines #sergeant gadriel #ultramarines #gadriel #demetrian titus #adeptus astartes #warhammer 40k oc #chairon #uriel ventris

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xspeter · 3 days ago

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

˚✧˚. summary: you meet a girl with a buzz cut, finally learn why Conner’s been ignoring you, and get into a blowout fight with your twin brother

m.list

wc: 6.1k

notes: “but kat! we haven’t even had any real interactions with steve yet! isn’t this a steve harrington story?” patience everyone, it’s coming i swear. but i meant it when i said slow burn.

You don’t know what you were expecting when you arrived at The Wheeler residence. Maybe some tears? Some yelling? You can say with full certainty though, that a girl wearing nothing but an oversized benny’s diner shirt and Ted Wheelers jacket all while adorning the cleanest buzz cut you’d ever seen was nowhere near the top of your list. In fact, it wasn’t even on the list!

She stuck out like a sore thumb in the basement, her breathing shallow and her face pale. Mike swallows, turning to look up at you. “We found her in the woods out by Mirkwood.” He explains, but you can’t get yourself to look away from her.

She’s soaked to the bone, her eyes glancing warily between the four of you. “Is there a number we can call? For your parents?” Mike asks.

Dustin looks at her wide eyed, “Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?”

“Dustin!” You reprimanded.

“Did you run away?”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Is that blood?”

The girl's breathing quickens even more, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say she looked like she was going to have a panic attack. All of the boys' questions are probably overwhelming her, and honestly they were making you anxious as well. “Boys! Enough, okay? She's just scared, and cold.” You say sharply, effectively shutting them up.

You lean down so you’re eye level with the girl, cautiously placing your hand on her knee. She jumps at the contact, but doesn’t make any move to pull away. “Mike, get her something to change into.” You murmur.

He does as he’s told, jogging over to what you’re assuming is his clean clothes hamper. He comes back holding a blue sweater and grey sweatpants. “Here, these are clean.”

You take the clothes from him and hand them to her cautiously, “You must be freezing.” You murmur. She doesn’t reply as she takes them from you, her big, brown eyes never leaving your face, like she’s scared something will happen if she looks away.

Suddenly, she stands and lets the jacket she’s wearing fall back onto the couch. You stand back up to your full height as well, your knees cracking as you do. “The bathroom is over-” You attempt to tell her, but she reaches down to pull her shirt over her head before you can stop her.

The boys all instantly turn around, their eyes wide and cheeks red. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Dustin repeats.

Without thinking, you grab her wrist and stop her, and she flinches at the sudden touch. You swallow, letting her go cautiously and pointing towards the basement bathroom. “Let's change in the bathroom, okay?” You murmur.

She doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you sigh in relief as she follows you. She looks around the bathroom uncomfortably, and you reach to pull the door shut, but she stops you.

“You don’t want it shut?” You ask, and she slowly shakes her head, and then mutters her first word. “No.”

You smile, “Okay. We’ll leave it cracked, alright?”

Once more, she just nods, and you turn away from the now cracked door so she can change. You can see the boys all discussing something, but you can’t really hear them, something about Alcatraz?

Still, you don’t really care about whatever it is they’re saying right now, you just want to know how the hell they found this little girl. “Hey!” You call out to them, and they all freeze, turning to you with questioning looks. “What the hell is going on?”

The boys all exchange looks with each other, and Mike is the first to speak up after a moment of silence, his voice soft. “We found her while we were looking for Will.”

You wet your lips, trying to wrap your head around what they’ve said. “Looking for Will? Boys, it’s pouring outside-”

“So? If Will is out there in the rain why should we stop looking because of it?” Lucas defends, and your heart aches a bit for the boys. You hadn’t really thought about them at all today, you’d been so busy focusing on your family and yourself. It makes you feel like shit. You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You can’t look for Will if you get sick, or even worse, hurt.” You explain to them, “I know we’re all worried for him, but you can’t put yourselves into danger because you want to find him.”

They don’t say anything, and you don’t really blame them. You weren’t mad at them, you just wanted them to be more cautious. “Do your parents even know that you went?”

Dustin shakes his head slowly, and you just nod. Mike sighs, his wet hair sticking to his forehead and dripping into the floor. “Look, she can sleep here tonight.” He says, changing the topic back to the girl.

Dustin’s eyes go wide, “You’re letting a girl-”

“Just for tonight!”

You tug on your bottom lip uncomfortably, really there isn’t anything else you can do right now. You’d bring her home with you, but you aren’t too sure how you’d explain her to your mom, and you don’t really want to put the extra stress on her right now.

Mike continues, “In the morning, she’ll sneak around the house and ring the doorbell. My mom will know exactly what to do and she’ll send her back to wherever she comes from, and we’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

Lucas and Dustin smile, their eleven year old brains thinking this is the best idea on the planet. Really, it’s not too bad, but you aren’t sure how much you trust that it really goes as smoothly as he makes it sound. Plus, no way they actually thought you would let them go back out there by themselves. “Yeah, that plan is great and all, but did you forget I’m here?” You questioned, “You’re not going out and looking for him unless you call me first.”

Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Nope! Look, I'm not stupid enough to think I can stop you guys from looking for him entirely. So, I’m going to come with you and make sure you guys don’t get hurt.”

Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, biting on his lower lip in thought. “It would be nice to not have to bike home.” He mutters, and Dustin hums in agreement.

Before anyone can say anything more, the girl walks out of the bathroom, now adorned in Mike's pajamas and hugging her old clothes to her chest. You quickly walk over to her with a soft smile on your face and lead her back to the couch. Mike wanders off to find something for her to sleep on.

“I don’t think we ever got properly acquainted, did we?” You mumble, letting her sit back down onto the couch. “I’m Y/N, and these three knuckleheads are Mike, Dustin, and Lucas.” You point to each other of the boys as you tell her their names. “You're gonna stay with Mike tonight, and then tomorrow his mom will find your parents.”

She frowns a bit at the mention of parents, like the word is foreign, but you don’t have time to dwell on it right now. You need to get the boys, and yourself, home.

She doesn’t say anything as you lead Lucas and Dustin out of the basement, but you can hear Mike talking to her while he gives her the sleeping bag he found.

After you fit the boys bikes into your trunk and let them clamber into the backseat, Dustin sits up so his head is right next to your headrest. “Do you think he’ll actually go through with it?” He asks.

You raise a brow, “With what? The plan?”

Dustin nods, and you just shrug. “Mike is smart, he’ll do what he thinks is best.”

Lucas scoffs, wrapping his arms around himself and leaning his head against the backseat window, “Wouldn’t want her in my house.”

–

The next morning, Jonathon is making breakfast for three instead of four. There’s a lingering tension in the air, and you can’t help the way you glance at the fourth, empty chair at the table.

“Here, I made breakfast.” Jonathon mumbles, going to set your Moms plate in front of her, but she gasps and takes it from him. “Be careful of the posters!”

“Yeah, okay, alright.” Jonathan murmurs, placing your own plate in front of you. The food looks appetizing, but you can’t really bring yourself to do more than pick at it.

“I can’t eat.” Your Mom mumbles, shoving the plate away and going back to staring at the poster you’d made last night.

“Can you atleast try?” You murmured to her softly, shoveling some eggs down your own throat in encouragement. She sniffles, shaking her head. “The Xerox place opens in, like, thirty minutes, and I don’t want you to go alone, Jonathon, so Karen’s going to take you.”

Jonathon just nods, but you cautiously speak up. “I can go with him.”

Your Mom just shakes her head, “No, no, I need you here with me. I, uh, we need what? 200? 300 copies?” Her words are moving a mile a minute and you and Jonathon can barely understand what she’s saying.

“Mom,” Jonathon attempts but she’s not listening.

“How much is a copy? Ten- ten cents?” She digs around in her purse for all the change she can find.

“Mom-”

“This is all I have-”

“Mom!” Jonathon reaches for her wrist, gently stopping her and ultimately forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes instantly fill with tears as she begins to use her free hand to hold her head.

Jonathon lets his head hang, releasing her wrist and in turn gripping the chair in front of him. “You can’t get like this, okay?” He says, and you all know it’s true.

She sniffles, a quiet sob leaving her, “I know- I know, I’m sorry.”

You grab her cold hand in your own, squeezing it. “It's okay, Mom.” You murmur, because it is. This is… unimaginable, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like you were going the slightest bit crazy either.

The heartbroken look on your Moms face kills you just the tiniest bit, you’ve never seen her look so broken in your life. You wish there was something you could do, like you could magically pull Will from thin air.

Then the thoughts come, the ones you’d been fighting off with a sword. How this was your fault. How if you’d just come home, if you hadn’t worked late, then Will would be here. He’d be home, and everything would be normal.

The only thing you and Jonathon can think to do is to continue reassuring your Mom that it’s okay, but even you don’t know if you believe that yourself.

A knock at the door causes your Mom to shoot up, the poster in her hand falling onto the floor. You pick it up, placing it back onto the coffee table as Hopper walks into your home. You resist the urge to snap at him, considering you’d called him as soon as the Police Station opened six hours ago and he was only coming to check in now.

“We’ve been waiting here for six hours.” Your Mom says, her whole body practically trembling in what you assume is anger.

Hopper doesn’t look the slightest bit remorseful, “Yeah, I came as soon as I could. A little bit of trust here, alright?”

You scoff quietly at his mention of trust. How could you trust a cop that couldn’t even bother to call back? Hopper glances at you, and you swear you can see the tiniest bit of pity in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, instead turning back to your Mom. “We’ve been searching all night. Went all the way to Cartersville.”

Your mom sucks in a shaky breath, “And?”

For the first time, Hopper looks remorseful. “Nothing.”

Your breath hitches, a hand coming to rest on your stomach while you grip the chair in front of you. You’re in disbelief that they didn’t find anything, not even a piece of clothing. It makes the hope you’d been holding onto dwindle just the tiniest bit.

Hopper smacks his lips, gesturing to your landline, “Flo says you got a phone call?”

You watch as your Mom explains the call you’d gotten last night, how she’d heard Will breathing on the other line. You can tell Hopper is skeptical, the way he chalks the whole thing up to a prank call, but you’d seen your Mom when it happened. She was scared, genuinely terrified. You don’t see how a prank call could cause that visceral of a reaction in her.

“You think I don’t know my own son's breathing? Wouldn’t you know your own daughters?”

Hopper goes silent at that, wetting his lips as he turns away from your Mom and looks to you. “We need to talk.”

Your eyebrows raise slightly, had he found out about the girl in The Wheeler's basement? Did she do something to Mike? You swallow, “What about?”

“Your friend. Conner.”

You lead Hopper to your bedroom, the only place you can think of to give yourselves the slightest bit of privacy. You couldn’t lie and say that the mention of Conner's name hadn’t immediately brought a weight down into your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Hopper closes the door gently behind him, and you plop down onto your bed. Your fingers grip the sheets, tugging them between your fingers nervously. You hadn’t been able to get ahold of Conner since you saw him at work the night Will went missing. Of course, it worried you, but you assumed… Well, you’re not sure what you assumed.

Hopper runs a hand over his face as he stands in front of you, he almost looks like he’s dreading what he’s about to say to you. He sniffs, “When was the last time you saw your friend, Conner?”

“Why are you asking me this?” You murmur, standing up from where you sit on your bed so you’re chest to chest with him.

Hopper sighs, “You know why, Kid.”

Your stomach drops. This had to be a joke, there was no way- no way that your brother and your best friend go missing on the same night. You don’t believe you could’ve angered anyone that much.

You let out a disbelieving laugh, eyes immediately filling with tears. “You’re lying.” You gasp out. It’s the only explanation you can come up with. One person you love going missing? God, that was hard to even comprehend, but two? There was no way.

Hopper shakes his head, “I’m not.”

“You are!” You scream, shoving your finger into his chest over and over again, “It’s not true! It can’t be!” Hopper doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you’re subconsciously thankful for it.

“They can’t both be- be gone!” You cry, guttural sobs spilling from your lips. You hadn’t cried this hard since you found out the news about Will, but you suppose with the news about Conner it’s all just become overwhelming.

Hopper wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as you continue to fight against him. “Listen to me.” He mutters, placing a comforting hand on the back of your head and the other on your upper back. “I’m going to find your friend and your brother, alright? I promise.”

Slowly, your breathing begins to even out and your sobs begin to get softer. Hopper just sighs, giving you one final squeeze before letting you pull away from him. Your tears continue to fall, but not as violently as moments before.

“We’ve just gotta get through these questions.” He mutters, and you just nod, not even embarrassed at your break down.

“Okay.”

After Hopper leaves, it takes you a little bit of time to build up the courage to tell your mom about Conner. You're not sure how many heartbreaks she can take before she completely breaks.

When you finally do, she instantly bursts into tears. Conner wasn’t- isn’t, her son, but he’s been close to your family since you were both eight years old. Jonathon hadn’t said anything, instead grabbing his keys and leaving. He doesn’t say where he’s going, and frankly you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much.

Your Mom does her best to comfort you, but considering she herself needs comfort, it doesn’t work out all that well. Still, you accept her hug with open arms, crying onto her shoulder.

“They’re both okay, Y/N, alright? I- I know it.”

You just nod, sniffling slightly. Yesterday, those words had been comforting and had given you hope. Today, they just make you feel empty.

“I should go talk to his Mom and Dad.” You murmur. Your Mom just nods, giving you a kiss on the crown of your head before you leave.

The last time you had seen Mr and Mrs Donnelly was last week, for Conner's birthday. Their family always had huge birthday celebrations, because Conner was the only baby Mrs. Donnelly had been able to carry to full term, so a birthday was like an accomplishment in their family.

Another sob wracks through your body, but you’re quick to control your breathing and stop the oncoming flow of years threatening to escape. You don’t want to be crying when you see Conner's parents, you want to be strong for them.

When you approach the driveway, you notice that somehow the bright blue house seems dull. Honestly, the entire world felt dull, like all the color had been ripped out of it.

It takes you a while to exit your car and knock on their door, but you eventually do, biting on your nails the whole time.

When Mrs. Donnelly opens the door, the first thing you notice is how similar she looks to your own Mom right now. Her blonde hair is sticking up in places it usually doesn’t, and she’s nursing a lit cigarette in between her shaky fingers.

“Y/N.” She sighs out, immediately wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You can’t stop the way the tears now spill from your eyes in big droplets, most definitely soaking into her shirt. She doesn’t seem to care either though.

“They’ll come home.” She murmurs into your hairline, “Both of them.”

You just continue to sob, your fingers tugging at the fabric of her shirt. “I’m sorry,” You murmur, “I’m so sorry.”

—

By the time you return home, Jonathon still isn’t back. Your mom is practically burning holes into the new phone she must’ve bought though, and she’s moved the couch so she’s sitting right in front of it.

She barely glances at you as you enter, and neither of you say anything as you make your way to your room. Your talk with the Donnellys had been very hard, and even a bit uncomfortable, honestly. They told you that Conner never came home from that shift, and you’d felt a crushing ton of guilt sit on your lungs.

You’d left Conner there alone, even though you’d had a bad feeling. Those awful voices begin to creep back into your mind, reminding you that what’s happened to Conner and Will was entirely your fault.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach at the reminder that now two people had vanished off of the face of the earth on the same night. Did someone take them? Were they together? Subconsciously, you hoped that Conner was there to take care of Will wherever they were. Maybe then Will would be less scared.

You glance at your electric clock, realizing school has been out for thirty minutes. Mike should be home by now, and if the plan went as smoothly as he claimed it would, everything should be back to normal now. Or, at least as normal as they can be. Still, you had a suspicious feeling that she was still right where you’d left her last night.

Will and Conner going missing, this strange girl showing up in the woods… Everything was too weird right now. Did the girl have something to do with what happened to Will and Conner? Yesterday you would’ve said that chances are the two had nothing to do with each other, but now you weren’t sure.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your landline, and you practically dart towards it. You aren’t entirely sure who you’re expecting, but this time you aren’t exactly surprised to hear Mike on the other side.

“She knows.” He blurts out, not even giving you a proper greeting.

Your eyebrows furrow, so you’d been right about her not leaving, but what did he mean she knew? “She knows? Knows what?”

“She knows about Will.”

By the time you get to the Wheeler residence you know that Lucas and Dustin are already there, because their bikes are thrown across the yard hazardously.

You roll your eyes as you step out of your car, collecting both of the bikes and setting them against the only tree in the yard. You know firsthand just how expensive those things are.

Karen Wheeler opens the door for you with a warm smile, baby Holly sitting on her hip while she plays mindlessly with a Barbie doll.

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you!” She says, and you laugh nervously, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater as you think of some excuse. “Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to check on the boys and make sure they were doing alright.” It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s not exactly the truth either.

Karen nods, a small frown forming on her lips, tugging the slight wrinkles on her forehead down. “That’s really sweet of you, Honey. But… How are you doing? I mean, first Will and now Conner- I can’t imagine it’s been easy for you.”

Your breath hitches a bit. So, Conner's disappearance is public knowledge now too. You shouldn’t be surprised considering Tommy knew about Will just hours after he’d been officially reported missing, but it still makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. “Oh.” Is all you can manage to say for a moment. You clear your throat, “Yeah, um, I’m okay. Holding up the best I can, you know?”

Karen nods, placing a comforting hand on your bicep. “Well if you or your family need anything don’t be afraid to call us, okay?” You just nod, your eyes glancing at Mike at the top of the stairs. He waves at you, urging you to hurry up and come up stairs.

You give Karen a polite side hug and smoothly walk up the stairs, where you see Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all standing outside his room. Lucas looks shocked, Dustin’s smiling, and Mike looks worried. You narrow your eyes at them, placing your hands on your hips, “What happened?” The boys all glance at each other before Lucas and Dustin both begin to speak at once.

“She closed the door—”

“No, she slammed it—”

“Really, Dustin, that’s what you’re worried about?”

“I’m just saying!”

“She slammed the door shut with her mind.” Mike finished for them, and your eyes widened slightly. She closed the door with her mind? That wasn’t possible.

You sigh, shaking your head. “It was probably just the wind, guys.”

Dustin scoffs, “It wasn’t the wind, Y/N. Look, we’ll show you.” He barges into Mike's room, where you can see the little girl sitting on his bed. Her eyes immediately dart to you, and there’s remnants of blood under her nostril. It looks like she’d tried to wipe it away, but she hadn’t gotten all of it.

Dustin darts over to one of the many Lego sets Mike has on display from when he and Will built it last year, and you can see Mike itching to protest, but he holds back.

Dustin holds the house they had built together out in front of him and swivels his neck back to you, “Okay, watch.” He says, going to release it, but you stop him. You don’t think Mike would be very happy to watch it shatter on the floor.

“Dustin, let’s not, okay?” You say, taking the house from his hands. “I don’t want to be mean, but we’ve got a lot bigger issues at hand then her apparent powers.”

Dustin frowns, “But-”

You put the Lego House back where it was sitting on Mike's shelf, fixing Dustin with a hard look. The curly-haired boy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

You ignore his pouting, walking past him so you can crouch in front of the little girl. “Hi.” You say to her warmly. You’d be lying if you said she didn’t creep you out just the tiniest bit. A random girl with a shaved head and limited vocabulary? It was hard not to be nervous around her.

“Her name’s Eleven. El for short.” Mike tells you, and the girl- El- nods in agreement. Add named after a number to your list.

You nod, “Do you remember me, El?” You ask her softly. She swallows, slowly nodding, “Yes.” She says shortly.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Okay. Good, that’s good.” You glance at Mike, then return your gaze back onto El. “Mike told me you might know something about my brother? Will?”

El is silent for a moment, her eyes darting from you to Mike, before she nod’s solemnly. “Lost.”

You resist the urge to gasp, instead letting out a shaky breath. “L-Lost? Where is he? Is he safe?”

El looks at you with eyes so wide you would compare her to a china doll. She shakes her head, wetting her lips before she says terrifyingly low, “No.”

Mike shudders, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s something else,” He says. “She said that there’s bad men looking for her. We think they’re the same ones who took Will.” He explains.

Your eyebrows furrow. Bad men? So he was kidnapped. You look back to El, “What kind of bad men?” You ask her.

She sucks in a shaky breath, her tiny fingers forming a gun. She points it at her own head, and just as quickly drops it. But, you’re able to get the message.

That’s all the information you’re able to get from her, but it’s enough to fill you with a mix of dread and hope. Hope, because there was a chance he was alive. Dread, because you knew if that were true, it wouldn’t be the case for much longer. And if Will was alive, wouldn’t that mean Conner was as well? You prayed that they were at least together, able to keep each other safe.

As you make your way out of the Mikes room, you awkwardly find yourself face to face with Nancy Wheeler. You hadn’t actually talked to the girl since eighth grade, the last year before she decided playing with her brother was officially lame.

“Oh, hi.” You say, giving her an awkward wave. Nancy gives you a nervous smile, returning the wave. “Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry about Will and Conner. I’m sure they’ll find them soon.”

You tug at the bottom of your shirt uncomfortably, your gaze falling to the floor. “Thanks. I, uh, I hope so, too.”

You both just stare at each other in silence, until the sound of a horn honking outside turns your attention away. Nancy shoves her thumb towards the front door, beginning to slowly walk away from you. “My rides here, so… I’ll see you around?”

You nod, “Yeah, see you.”

As Nancy walks through the front door, you wait for her to leave fully before also making your exit. You don’t have any issues with Nancy, you just weren’t the same people anymore. She was dating Steve Harrington and hanging out with his possé of future highschool dropouts, while you were still dressing up for your little brothers board game.

Once you’re finally able to get back on the road, your thoughts easily drift from Nancy to Will and Conner. El said that Will was lost somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where. That could be good, right? If he was lost and not kidnapped or something like that. Lost things could be found when looked for hard enough.

Jonathon always said Will was exceptionally good at hiding, but you’d always thought that was because he just wasn’t looking hard enough.

—

By the time you get home the sun has already set, and your Mom hasn’t moved from her spot on the couch. You can tell she’s fighting sleep by the way she’s slouched over and her lips are slightly parted. You just look at her in pity, debating if you should tell her what you learned.

But, you didn’t want to get her hopes up when you didn’t even really know if El was telling the truth. After all, Will’s face was plastered all over Hawkins, it wasn’t that unlikely that she’d simply seen his face there and recognized him in Mike's photo. Still, you couldn’t help but think she was telling the truth. It was all just too strange to not be connected.

You softly shake your mom awake, and she practically jumps out of her skin at the contact. Her eyes dart across the room before they land on you, and her gaze softens just barely. “Oh, Y/N, you scared me.”

You mumble an apology, your hand falling naturally to her shoulder. “What do you say we get you to your bed?”

She shakes her head, her body already beginning to tremble again. “No, no— I need to be here if Will calls again.”

You tug on your lower lip, weighing your options in your head. You could leave her out here and watch her drive herself crazy, or you could convince her to go lay down in her own bed. “Look, I’ll stay out here and keep watch, and I promise as soon as I hear it ring I’ll come get you, alright?” She’s silent for a moment, as if she’s arguing with herself in her mind, before she slowly gives in and begins to let you lead her back to her room.

Just before you reach her bedroom door, the shrill ringing of the phone cracks through the silent house. Your Moms ears practically perk up as she darts for it. You just follow her, your arms crossing over your chest as she cradles the yellow landline to her ear.

“Hello? Who is this?”

She glances at you, her breathing heavy as her eyes immediately begin to fill with tears. “Will?”

Your own heart begins to beat faster as you step closer to her, “It’s Will? Is he- Is he saying anything?”

She lets out a quiet sob, “Will, it’s me. It’s mom.” She places her hand over her heart, “Talk to me. I’m here. Just tell me where you are honey, please?”

Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and you can hear a faint Mom? sound over the phone. Your hand immediately flies to your mouth, your jaw going slack. He’s alive.

“Will! Yes, it’s me! It’s mom! Where are you? Just—” Suddenly, the electricity spikes for the last time and you watch as your mom flings the phone onto the couch. “No, no!”

You reach for her, your own voice shaky. “Was it- Was it actually Will?”

She doesn’t answer, instead crouching onto the floor and sobbing into her hands. You can’t bear to watch it anymore. Your stomach begins to churn and you feel your lunch beginning to rise back up. You quickly run outside, hoping the fresh air might help you, and thankfully it does.

You're able to force your lunch back down, but you can’t quite build up the courage to walk back inside and face your Mom. You heard… Did you hear Will? You thought you did. Or were you just so desperate for him to be alive you imagined it?

Your stomach begins to churn again, but the sudden sound of music coming from Will’s room distracts you. You assume it’s your Mom going in there again. When she wasn’t staring at the phone she was usually in there, just sitting on his bed and going over the countless drawings he’d made over the years.

What you aren’t expecting to hear though, is the guttural scream that rips from the house. You immediately run back inside, “Mom?” You cry out, but she doesn’t respond to you. Instead, she practically flies out of Will’s room and takes you by the hand, dragging you back outside and into her car.

Once you’re sat in the passenger seat you once again bombard her with questions. “What’s going on? Why’d you scream?”

She doesn’t respond, her eyes practically bulging from her skull as she shakily forces the car on. Her gaze falls back to the flickering light in Will’s room, the song starting up once again.

“Mom?” You attempt again, but she doesn’t answer. It’s not until after she’s gotten out of the car do you hear any words from her, those simply being, “Stay here.”

Your mouth goes dry as you watch her walk back into the house with her head held high. Really, you’re at a loss. You don’t know why she freaked out so much, and you don’t know if it’s something dangerous or if she really has just reached her breaking point. Your fingers tap your thighs as you wrestle with what to do. If it is something dangerous, the last thing you want is for her to be in there with whatever it is by herself.

Just as you’re about to get out of the car to follow her, the blinding white lights of your twin brother's car enters the driveway. You can’t help the way your skin bristles at the sight of it.

You step out of your moms car, your feet crunching against the rocky driveway. Jonathon’s car squeals as it comes to a stop, his headlights slowly going out as he exits the vehicle.

“Where the hell were you?” You say exasperatedly.

Jonathon looks shocked at your tone, but he’s quick to come up with an explanation. “I was looking for Will.” He says, slamming his car door shut.

You scoff, “For ten hours?”

Jonathon runs a hand over his face, and it’s now that you notice just how exhausted he looks. His eyes are red and puffy from crying, and the dark bags under his eyes don't compliment it very well. His skin is a sickly pale, and he looks like he’s struggling to even hold himself up. It breaks your heart to see him like this, but you’re holding strong in your stance that he can’t just disappear for half a day without telling you where he was going. Especially not now that he was one of the only people you had left.

“I went to Lonnie’s.” He confesses solemnly.

Your lips tug into a straight line, your arms hugging yourself tighter. Your Dad hadn’t even bothered to call you and see how any of you were doing. You can’t say you don’t expect that kind of thing from him though. “And? What did he say?”

Jonathon just scoffs, kicking up some of the gravel on the driveway. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” The hard expression on your face doesn’t change. “Well, while you were out, Mom got another call. And she’s really freaking out in there.”

Jonathon’s head snaps up so his eyes are meeting yours now. “She did? Was it Will?”

“I’m…” You suck in a breath, your lips twisting uncomfortably. “I’m not sure. It- It could’ve been.”

Jonathon shakes his head, “Could’ve isn’t enough, Y/N.”

You bristle at that, your eyebrows furrowing as you point an accusing finger at him. “You think I don’t know that?” Your anger feels like it’s flowing out of you in waves, all of it wrongfully directed at Jonathon. He's not the one you were truly mad at, but he’s the only person around.

Jonathon frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets— an anxious habit he’s had since you were kids. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He attempts to defend, but you’re hearing none of it.

“I mean, to be honest, Jonathon, it feels like you don’t even have any hope that Will is alive. Or Conner. So why even bother looking?”

“You know that’s not true—”

“Do I?” The tears are flowing freely now, and you don’t have the energy to try and stop them. You turn away from him, the wind making a shiver run up your spine.

“You’re not being fair, Y/N.” Jonathon whispers, so softly that your ears strain to hear it.

You sniffle, adjusting your arms against your chest. “Yeah, well, neither are you.” You spit out, walking through the open front door and leaving him outside in the cold.

[taglist: @inlovewithchriss @idkman5335 ]

42 notes · View notes

umi-adxhira · 18 hours ago

Text

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 020

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Fontaine, Lante, Dion, a severed head

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Last post of today, hope you guys enjoy it

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

It’s been two days since Dion came back, and you’re sitting in your room, eating some bread with soup. The doctor advised you not to eat solid food such as bread, but having it with a liquid to soften it would be okay.

You eat by yourself, content with the quaint atmosphere of the room. The bread with soup is good, much more savory than the soup you’re familiar with in your world. It must be due to the lack of exotic spices. If they can’t make it flavorful, then making it rich and savory is the next best thing.

The door to your room creaks open. You don’t need to look up to know who it is.

Lante stands over your small form, his presence as oppressive as ever. He smokes a cigar, the acrid scent stinging your nose. He takes a long drag before speaking.

"Since you're injured, you’ll have to make up for it later. I expect overtime. And when you’re back on your feet, you better doll yourself up properly. Consider it an apology for the inconvenience."

He turns to leave, then mutters under his breath, "Last time someone pulls a stunt like that." Your bread halts halfway to your mouth. Stunt?

"What do you mean?" you ask.

Lante glances at you over his shoulder, his expression one of mild irritation. "Fontaine's been dead for two days. His head's missing, but I'd recognize that stupid brat’s body anywhere."

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you in silence.

Your stomach churns. The soup suddenly tastes like ash. Fontaine is dead. You have no doubt who did it.

Dion.

The blood on his cheek that morning. His calm, unbothered demeanor. He didn’t even hesitate, I bet. That makes me feel a lot better. One problem is gone, but I’d be an idiot to think that Fontaine is the only Agriche to pull off a stunt like that.

You push your half-empty bowl away, fingers curling over the edge of the wooden tray. I should eat. I won’t heal if I don’t. But the thought of swallowing anything now makes your throat close up.

Your thoughts scatter when Roxana enters, carrying fresh bandages, a basin full of water, and a towel. She says nothing as you set your food aside and pull the blanket off your body. The cold air makes you shiver.

She starts with your head, unwrapping the old bandages carefully, her fingers firm yet gentle. She dips the towel into the water, squeezing out the excess before dabbing at the wound. The water stings, sending a sharp jolt through your skull, but you don’t flinch. It’s better than infection.

She works in silence, her touch precise, pressing fresh gauze against your temple before securing it with clean bandages. Moving to your arms, she peels away the old wrappings, revealing healing bruises and shallow cuts. She cleans each wound methodically, replacing the bandages with practiced ease. Your legs are next - she lifts them gently, mindful of your sore muscles, fingers brushing against sensitive skin as she works.

By the time she reaches your torso, you’re trembling slightly, not from pain but from the sheer exposure. She unwinds the final layer of bandages, revealing the deep gash across your ribs. The cool air prickles against it, but Roxana says nothing. She only dips the towel again, pressing it firmly against the wound to clean away the dried blood.

The basin is now dark with bloodied water, the scent of iron thick in the air. She wraps the final bandage tightly, securing it with a knot before gathering the soiled wrappings and the basin. She turns toward the door, only to pause when it creaks open once more.

The door opens again. You don’t need to turn to know who it is this time either.

Dion steps in, a medium-sized box in his hands, wrapped with a red bow - the same shade as his eyes. Roxana stops, scowling at him before shoving past and leaving without another word.

Now, it’s just you and Dion.

He walks closer, setting the box beside you. You glance at him, searching his face for anything. He meets your gaze without hesitation, but he says nothing.

He’s watching me. The silence stretches between you both, thick and unspoken. You hesitate before reaching for the box. “You brought me something?” you ask, your tone teasing, though there’s an edge to it. Why does it feel so heavy?

Dion doesn’t respond. He only tilts his head slightly, watching you expectantly. You tug at the bow, undoing the knot, then lift the lid.

Inside, staring back at you, is a severed head.

Fontaine’s head.

Your breath catches. The world tilts.

The face is pale, slack with death. Blood stains his hair and the edges of his severed neck, dried and dark. His lifeless eyes remain half-open, a frozen expression of surprise barely etched onto his face. Flowers adorn the edge of the box, along with a single rose in the hole of his gouged eye. It’s an ugly sight to see, but something about it…

The silence is deafening.

Your hands tremble, but you don’t drop the box. You can’t move, can’t breathe.

Dion doesn’t say a word. He only watches.

You suck in a breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. He watches you with something unreadable in his crimson eyes, head tilted slightly, as if assessing your reaction. There is no remorse. No regret.

Your stomach churns violently, but you swallow it down. He did this for me. Didn’t he?

How sweet.

You exhale, pushing the lid back onto the box, blocking out the gruesome sight. It doesn’t erase the image from your mind, though. Fontaine's dead eye is seared into your thoughts.

Dion shifts closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity. His fingers brush against your cheek, cold and deliberate. He lingers there, his touch featherlight, testing.

Your pulse stutters. You should pull away. You don’t.

His lips barely part, his voice a whisper. "Afraid?"

You swallow, shaking your head. "No."

His fingers trail lower, his touch ghosting down your jawline before he pulls away.

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips - something dark, something satisfied.

"Good."

The room feels smaller. The air between you charged with something unspoken. You don’t have an answer, but one thing is clear - Dion did this for you. He has no intention of leaving.

And now, neither do you.

TAGLIST: @evaxmisu, @00hellohello00, @welpthisisboring, @hsrvl264, @flyingpansaurus

#the way to protect the female lead’s older brother #twtptflob #dion agriche #jeremy agriche #roxana agriche #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #lante agriche #cassis pedelian #yandere x reader #dion agriche x reader #x female reader #yandere x you #female x reader #x reader #yandere

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melancholyfool · 1 day ago

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End in Ruin

Pairing: Henry Winter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Henry have an unhealthy obsession with each other

a/n: i got feedback on my writing style (or lack thereof?) and I think my academic writing is influencing my creative work... i will definitely try and improve my writing in future posts! :')

Henry sits beside you on the worn-out sofa, close enough that your thigh is pinned beneath his, the heavy weight of him comforting you, in a strange way. He hasn't let go of your hand since you sat down hours ago. His fingers rest against your palm, absentmindedly stroking the lines there, tracing the curve of your knuckles. It's not even conscious anymore—just something he does, just to make sure you're still there.

You shift slightly and his grip tightens.

You don’t pull away. You never want to anyway.

Instead, you murmur, soft enough that it barely disturbs the air between you, "I need to go to the bathroom."

There is no question in your voice, no hesitation.

Henry responds immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

No one reacts.

Richard takes a slow sip of wine, looking vaguely toward the window. Francis exhales smoke and flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette. Charles doesn’t even glance up from the book in his lap, while Camilla hums absently, stretching out her legs.

It’s expected now. The way the two of you move as one.

You nod, as if it was always the plan and take Henry’s hand, standing, his fingers lacing through yours effortlessly. He trails behind you as you make your way down the dimly lit hall, the sounds of conversation dulling as you turn the corner.

The bathroom is small and the old tile is cool beneath your feet as you step inside, Henry following without question and shuts the door behind him.

You don’t say anything as you move toward the sink, but he watches you, leaning against the door.

He always does.

You reach for the faucet, twisting the knob, the water rushes out, and you press your fingers beneath the stream, watching as droplets gather on your skin. Henry folds his arms across his chest, his gaze never leaving you. There is nothing intrusive in it, nothing awkward or expectant. Just watchful. Steady.

You press your hands to your face, the coolness soothing against your flushed skin. You don’t acknowledge him, but not because you’re ignoring him—because this is normal. Because he belongs here, in this space, in every space you occupy.

He shifts slightly and you catch the movement in the mirror, the way his head tilts, waiting for you. The weight of his gaze is tangible, thick as the summer air pressing in through the little open window in the bathroom.

You reach for the towel, and Henry moves—just the smallest adjustment, the faintest lean forward as if on instinct, reaching to help you.

You glance at him, meeting his eyes in the reflection.

Neither of you speak.

The silence isn’t empty. It’s brimming. It’s all there, unspoken.

When you dry your hands you step past him, opening the door, making your way out of the bathroom. You don't need to look back to know that he's following you.

When you get back to the others you don’t sit back down right away. Instead, you linger, standing between Henry’s legs as he adjusts himself on the sofa. His hand finds yours immediately, gripping tight. You grip back just as hard.

The others are watching, though only mildly. Not surprised. Not unsettled. Just watching.

You lower yourself, finally, onto the sofa beside Henry, and he shifts to make room, except there’s no real space between you. He turns slightly, enough that his knee presses against yours, and his fingers, still tangled with yours.

Camilla tilts her head, watching. “Do you ever let go of each other?”

Henry doesn’t answer, but you do. “No.”

Francis chuckles, the sound lazy, amused. “What, not even to sleep?”

You press your fingers into Henry’s palm, dragging slow, absentminded touches, just as he did to you before. “Not even then.”

Henry exhales slowly, a near-silent thing, and his free hand—his other one, the one not trapped in yours—settles warm and heavy against your thigh. He does it without thinking... without hesitation.

“Isn’t it exhausting?” Richard hesitantly asks, as if he doesn’t want to know the answer. Or maybe he's just worried you'll get upset.

“No,” you murmur. “It’s worse when we’re apart.”

Henry hums in agreement.

Francis rolls his eyes, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Christ, you two.”

Camilla’s lips curve faintly, but she doesn’t say anything. Charles mutters something about unhealthy attachment, but it’s quiet and dismissive.

Richard, ever hesitant, asks, “What happens if one of you leaves?”

You feel it like a strike to the ribs and your breath catches. Henry’s fingers twitch against your skin.

Camilla answers for you, "They don’t."

It’s true.

It’s unthinkable, the idea of leaving, of being left, the thought alone makes your throat close, makes something deep inside you twist up into a terrible, aching knot. You grip Henry tighter.

"That’s not sustainable," Richard says after a moment.

“That’s irrelevant,” Henry says bluntly.

Charles exhales, flicking his cigarette ash into the tray, shaking his head like he's already seen the ending of this particular tragedy, and he knows Henry has read enough tragedies to spot them a mile away. “It’ll end in ruin.”

But despite being well-versed in greek tragedies, something in you twists, sharp and immediate. You turn instantly, pressing yourself closer to Henry, your hands gripping his arm, the lapel of his jacket, anything you can grab. “Henry,” you whisper, the sound just shy of a whine. You’re not sure what you want him to do—deny it, fix it, make the words untrue.

Henry doesn’t even look at Charles, doesn’t spare him the briefest glance. Instead, his focus stays on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles where he still holds your hand.

"Charles talks too much," he says simply, dismissively, as if the conversation itself is beneath him, beneath you.

You exhale shakily, nodding, pressing your forehead to the place where his jaw meets his throat. Yes. Yes, he does.

Charles scoffs, but it’s only half-hearted, and he doesn’t argue.

Henry tips his head slightly, his lips just brushing your hair. “Don’t listen to him.”

"I won’t."

#henry winter #henry winter x reader #henry marchbanks winter #tsh fanfic #the secret history #donna tartt #camilla macaulay #francis abernathy #charles macaulay #richard papen #melancholyfool

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jade4956 · 1 day ago

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Unspoken words (2021)

Pt. 1 (Pt.2)

Tahlia Bliss wasn’t sure when it started.

Maybe it was when she first arrived at UCLA in 2017, wide-eyed and eager, and Jessie Fleming had taken her under her wing, guiding her through the chaos of college life and elite soccer. Maybe it was in the quiet moments between training sessions, when they sat on the grass, legs stretched out, talking about their dreams and the futures they wanted. Or maybe it had always been there, tucked away beneath layers of friendship and familiarity, waiting for the right moment to make itself known.

All she knew was that in 2021, something had shifted.

It wasn’t obvious at first, just small things. A lingering glance across the locker room. The way Jessie’s hand would brush against hers when they walked together after practice, neither pulling away. The way Tahlia found herself hyper-aware of Jessie’s presence, her laughter, the way she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear when she was focused.

They had always been close. That wasn’t new. But the way Tahlia’s stomach flipped when Jessie smiled at her. The way she replayed their conversations late at night, searching for meaning in the smallest words. That was new. And terrifying.

Jessie, for her part, wasn’t much better.

She prided herself on being composed, level-headed, able to analyze everything with a clear mind. But when it came to Tahlia? That clarity disappeared.

She caught herself looking for Tahlia in every room she walked into. She found excuses to be around her, to sit next to her at team meetings, to offer her an extra granola bar from her bag. When Tahlia laughed really laughed, that uninhibited, full-bodied kind of laugh, Jessie felt like she could listen to it forever.

And it wasn’t just that. It was the moments in between.

Late nights in their apartment, watching some terrible reality show on the couch, neither really paying attention. Jessie would glance over, see Tahlia curled up in a blanket, hair messily tied up, completely at ease, and she’d have to force herself to look away, heart pounding.

It wasn’t normal. Friends didn’t feel like this.

They both knew it, but neither of them knew what to do about it.

It wasn’t as simple as just saying something. They had known each other for years. They had built something solid, something important. If they crossed a line, there was no going back.

So they danced around it.

When Tahlia lingered at Jessie’s door at night, hesitating like she had something to say, Jessie pretended not to notice.

When Jessie’s touch lingered on Tahlia’s wrist a second too long, neither of them acknowledged it.

When their teammates teased them. “You two are basically married at this point” they both laughed it off, but later, in the quiet of their own thoughts, they wondered.

Tahlia told herself she was imagining things.

Until one afternoon, when she caught Jessie staring at her across the dining hall.

It wasn’t just a glance. It wasn’t a fleeting look. It was something else, something heavier.

Their eyes met. Jessie didn’t look away.

Tahlia’s breath caught, and for a split second, she thought this is it.

But then someone sat down between them, and the moment was gone.

That night, Tahlia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She thought about every time Jessie had reached for her, every time their hands had almost, almost intertwined. Every time Jessie had looked at her like that.

She thought about what it would mean to close that last bit of distance. To stop pretending.

And then she thought about what it would mean if she was wrong.

So Tahlia did nothing.

So Jessie did nothing.

Until one night, after a long training session, when they found themselves on the field alone. The floodlights cast a soft glow over the grass, the distant hum of traffic in the background.

Tahlia sat down first, stretching her legs out. Jessie followed, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Neither moved away.

Jessie hesitated, then exhaled. “You ever feel like something’s changing, but you don’t know what to do about it?”

Tahlia turned her head, eyes searching Jessie’s face. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken things.

Jessie swallowed, her heart pounding. “Tahlia, I—”

A voice called from across the field, breaking the moment. One of their teammates, shouting about getting food.

Tahlia exhaled, blinking. Jessie clenched her jaw, frustration bubbling under her skin.

They stood, brushing the grass off their shorts, and started walking toward the exit.

But before they reached the gate, Tahlia’s fingers brushed Jessie’s light, fleeting, but deliberate.

Jessie glanced at her.

Tahlia just smiled.

And for now, that was enough.

—————————————————————————

I feel like Jessie is a good choice for Tahlia’s love interest so I hope you like this decision I made for Tahlia and hope to see some requests of things you’d like to see about Tahlia or other fics

#woso #lionesses #chelsea women #england #woso community #woso x reader #women football #woso fanfics #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #ucla #send requests #send asks #Tahlia Bliss

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princessmaeee · 1 day ago

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Bisexual Lights _ P3

Hello Sweeties ! So, for this part, it's longer than the other ( I think ) but there's no S M U T cause I had other things to focus on. It will talk about passed Trauma and it gonna be more of a Angst but also with Fluff. It gonna talk about the Reader and Nam Gyu's relation and in the next part, it gonna continue on them but also gonna Talk openly about Nam Gyu's past. I'm getting tired of people who just write him as a mean Dom. I'm sure Nam Gyu is way more than That and that's exacly what I wan to show. Yeah He can be a Cunt, be he's not just that. Yeah he can be mean, but he's not just mean. I think all of that is just a shield to protect himself from getting hurt and who can't relate ? Whe all goes trought somethingwho changed us and made us take decision to protect ourself. In My head Nam Gyu did the same. So I hope you gonna Enjo that part even Is it can be hard on feelings. Tag : @ansleyyquinn

Loud music was playing all around but it felt so silent. It sounded like the music was playing in another room, like he was trapped in four walls. In fact, the only thing he could hear was the laughing of a girl and a boy échoing in his head, mixed with an unpleasant buzzing. His head hurted, he could feel something flowing from his head and tears from his eyes. A tight and firm grip on his hips, nail digging harshly in his skin, it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his entire body. It was like fire, burning his skin, he was ripped apart with. As he try to say something, to move away, nothing came out of his mouth except desperate whimpers and sobs. For them, time flied, but for him, it felt like hundred years of torture.

A soft and manicured hand came to grab his jaw, making him look at her. She felt happy with the broken vision of his supplient eyes, asking in silence to end this torture.

«-So, that’s how you like It babe ? »

Nam Gyu brutally woke up, looking all around in fear. His body was all sweaty and he could’t stop trembling. His mouth felt dry as his heartbeat won't stop racing in his chest. With a shaky breath and horrible trembling hand he try to reach the drawer of his nightstand, opening it up quickly. His hand is looking for something until he finds it. It was a pot of little pills with many colors.

He could hear her voice again and again in his head. The voice of that bitch, laughing at him and the situation he was in.

Nervously and in an uncontrollable rush, he opened the pot and took one pill and put it on his tongue.

Eyes closed, he tries to find his focus as the little drug melts in his mouth. But the voice never shutted up, making him grunt.

«-Shut up… shut up…»

He felt a shiver through his spine as he stopped breathing for a second. Just like he’s still there, he could feel the painful grip on his tight and the soft touch on his shoulder, on his jaw. Her kisses on his face. Cupping his head in his hands he put his face in the mattress, trying to scream all the hate and rage out of him.

Out of control, he threw the pill pot against the wall, making it explode and sent the other drugs everywhere in his messy room as his scream sounded like a desperate call for help.

«-SHUT THE FUCK UP !! »

The silent came back, no more voices, no more ghost touch. The only thing Nam Gyu could hear was the sound of his heartbeat, slowly calming down as the tears flowed from his eyes.

…

It’s been almost two weeks since the night with the boys and after you left Thano’s apartement, you were pissed and more confused than ever. You did a lot of overtime work, even on Friday night to avoid your usual Night out, but every night, when you're alone in your bed, your head goes there again and again, remembering how much you enjoyed it and it started to annoy you. It never was the relation you wanted with them but now you are unsure of what you want. Do you have an attraction for them ? Definitely, they’re always good looking. Would you like this to happen again ? Yeah. But you also need to think about each other’s feelings and Nam Gyu’s reaction last morning really pissed you off and worried you a little bit. You were sure he enjoyed it but what if I didn’t ?

You had tried many times to text him, to see if he was still mad but you got no reply. After three days back to back, you gave up.

Thanos texted you a lot too, but you sort of ghosted him. You replied to some of his texts, when he invited you over, but you answered how much work you had to do so you could’t. You felt bad at first but it wasn’t really a Lie. It’s just work you put yourself on your shoulder just to keep your mind away from your erotic fantasies with your friends.

Tonight, it was around 9Pm when you came out from work, exhausted. You worked all week on a new client project and you liked the idea so you ran everywhere in Seoul to find nice spots or to organise meetings. You plan was to go home and relax in a Hot bubble bath, but when you noticed your purple haired friend who was waiting for you outside of your workplace, you knew you would have to cancel that plan.

«-It was about time you got out of there, he said, getting closer to you. -Sorry to disappoint but it’s not everyone who can decide and plan their own schedule. -Since when are you working on friday Night ? -Since I got more client cause I’m an amazing publicity manager ? You replied with an amused smile -Maybe I should Hire you. -Oh, I’m pretty sure You can’t afford me. -And I’m pretty sure I can pay you with something else than Money »

You rolled your eyes. That was the annoying part. Since that Night, you feel like Su bong only see you as an sex object and not like his friend anymore. As you both were walking, you stop and look at him, seriously.

«-What happened were nice. I enjoyed It but I don’t think we should be like that with each other, ever again. You never were … flirthy, with me before and It was perfect just like that. I don’t want you or Nam Gyu to see me in any other way than a friend. -And is it the reason why you have avoided me since all that time ? Asked Thanos. -Yeah, sort Of. I’m sorry, I needed time to figure out everything and find out how I felt and put it into words and- »

You Sight and continue walking.

«-I just want Us to be friends again. -And what If I would like Us to be more than that ? »

You stop walking again and look at your friend, surprised and obviously confused. Thanos just kept walking like he didn’t also say ‘’ we should be lovers instead ‘’ but stopped when He noticed you had stopped, turning around to face you.

«-What do you mean ? You want us like… you and me ? Or you, me and Nam Gyu together ? Or you just mean Sexfriend ?»

He came closer to you, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

«-I didn’t come to talk about this, so let’s save this conversation for Later. At first, I wanted to ask you If you could go see Nam gyu and Try to talk to him. I’m getting worried cause He hasn't answered any of my texts lately. -He didn't answer mine either, but it’s more of a surprise he also ghosted you. And why do you need me to talk to him? Can’t you try yourself ? -I kinda did. I went to his place but he wasn’t there. I guess he’s at work, but I can’t go to the club without being chased by drunk or drugged fans, so I thought maybe you could try.»

You sigh. Of course you could, but you know how Nam Gyu will be more open to talk to Thanos rather than you, but you didn’t mention it since he seems to ghost you both and your friend made a point by not being able to enter the club in peace.

«-Fine, I’ill give it a try. »

That’s how you found yourself in front of the Club where Nam Gyu’s working, wearing something more appropriate for that kind of place. You put on a black dress with a laced back and a cut on one side and had put a small coat on to avoid getting cold. You had changed your makeup for something a little less casual and put on red lipstick. You normally pass without problem and skip the line when you are with Nam Gyu. He also gave you a card for a special pass if anything happens when you’re without him.

Lucky for You, the bouncer let you pass even If you had skipped the line with a lot of people who waited for a moment just to go inside. You felt sorry for them but at least you didn't come here to have some fun. You just need to find your friend and talk with him before leaving.

As you pass through the dancing people, avoiding any guy who would like to dance with you, you finally succeed to make your way to the bar. You recognized the guy behind it, he’s always there when you go out with the guys and a real sweetheart. When he noticed you, he smiled and stopped chatting with two hot girls, clearly trying to flirt with him, to come see you.

«-Hey Y/N long time no see. You normally come on friday. What’s bring you here tonight ? -I’m looking for Nam Gyu. I need to talk with him.»

He seemed surprised and came closer to me.

«-Anyone has seen him in the last 3 days. He didn’t come to work. And He did not answer any texts. -Really ? He did the same with Thanos and Me … -Do you think we need to call the police ? Maybe something happened. -No, don’t worry, I'm gonna go to his apartment and see if he’s here. And if he’s not, yeah I'm gonna call the police.»

He nodded and you quickly left the club, worried for your friend and made your way to his apartment. You didn’t get any answers when you knocked, just like thanos, but you insisted, knocking again and again, calling his name, but still no answer. Using one of the bobépine you had in your air, you managed to skillfully unlock his door and open it.

Walking in his apartment, you found him, in his room, laying down on his bed, in the dark and at this exact moment, your heart started to race from the panic.

«-Nam Gyu…»

You come closer and shake him a little before you turn him on his back to hear his heartbeat. Earring the soft breathing of his heart calms you down. You felt better knowing he’s still alive. Looking around you noticed a lot of pills all over the floor and some syringe on his nightdesk. What tired this dummy ?

Taking your phone, you were about to call for an ambulance, but Nam Gyu’s hand grip your wrist frimley, scaring the shit out of you.

«-Don’t… I’m fine… -Nam Gyu, you need to go to the hospital. I don’t know what you took but it seems big. Why had you taken all that shit ? »

He stayed silent and sit down in his bed, taking the phone from your hands and throw it on his bed.

«-Not of your business. »

His voice was low but you could still feel in his tone he didn’t seem so happy to see you. He would probably like you to leave and let him rot here, but that wasn’t in your plan. Even if Nam Gyu can be the worst asshole you ever met, he’s still your friend and he’s probably in a hard periode right now and that’s why you can’t let him down.

«-Alright, but let me help you. I'm gonna prepare you a bath. I don’t know when you took one for the last time, you stink.»

You didn’t give him time to answer and left his room to go to the bathroom.

You opened the light, got a towel out of the drawer and opened the hot water before you went back to Nam Gyu, pulling his arms to make him follow you to the bathroom. It wasn’t an easy task. He seemed sleepy, but you stayed firm in what you wanted, warning him you were gonna have to call the ambulance if he didn't follow you. He wasn’t really happy with the idea so he finally followed you to the bathroom. You gently helped him to remove his clothes like his T-shirt and Pants. You blushed and looked away when he only had his boxer left.

«-Go one, remove it and go in the bath.»

He said nothing and removed his last piece before entering the bath as you stopped the water. As you were about to take to soap, his hand grabbed your arm.

«-Come with me in the water. »

You gave him a surprised Look, not sure if he was trying to play or tease you, but he didn’t even look at you. His eyes were empty, looking at the water.

«-Please, he said in a shaky breath. -Alright…»

Cheeks red, you started to remove your clothes. Nam Gyu didn’t even look at you, his eyes still fixed on an invisible spot in the water. It was less embarrassing but also it worried you more. Once Naked, you enter the water, behind your friend and start to gently rub it back with soap. You stayed in silence for a moment, not sure of what you should say.

You passed your arms around him, pressing your chest against his back and put your chin on his shoulder.

«-Will you tell me what happened to put yourself in that state ? »

His hands were shaking but came on yours, caressing the top of it with his thumb.

«-I- ..»

His voice cracked and it broke your heart. You never saw Nam Gyu like this and the more he tried to talk, the more confused you were.

«-I heard those voices again. Since-...Fuck…»

His grip on your hands getting tighter as his breath started to be more shaky and heavier. You weren't sure if he was having a panic attack. Not able to move your hand, you pressed you lips againt’s his shoulder.

«-Take your time, it’s fine.»

Another long moment of silence. Nam Gyu tried to get his shit together and not flinch in front of you. It was the war in his brain, struggling to confess his feelings to you. He wasn’t sure he wanted you to see the vulnerability in him. He wasn’t sure he could completely trust you, but on the other hand, you were there, trying your best to make him feel comfortable. You could have just given up on him and let him die from an overdose.

«-Since the Night we had the three of us and the Fight we had the next morning…It brought back some bad memories I tried to forget. I hear voices and I try to shut it up with everything I can. Whatever how strong or deadly or unsafe it can be. I just don’t want to hear it again.»

You started to feel bad. You never thought that night could have been such a problem. Did he really enjoy it ? Maybe he never wanted this ? No one really asked after all. You didn't say a thing and continued listening to your friend.

«-You were Right, I liked it. I liked how I felt with both of you and it scared me. You saw me like that scared me as fuck and it made me realise how hard I trust you Both. -And that’s fine because in that kind of situation we had too. I would never have done that If I didn’t like or trust you or Thanos. You don’t have to be ashamed to have been seen like this. I teased you about it, but I really enjoyed this moment. -I’m used to less passion, less soft touch, less…attention. I’m used to get any bitch I want at the club, fuck her right in a VIP section and never see her again. I’m used to just…using people cause I need to be in control. And I didn’t have control on anything with you two. -And that’s okay, it proved that You trusted us enough. -No, You don’t understand ! »

Nam Gyu started to cry and quickly tried to stop the tears by whipping it from his face. His brain was racing off negative thoughts as he heard her voice again.

«-Fuck…fuck-fuck-fuck ! »

Seeing him like this made you panic, clueless about what you could do for him. You just act impulsive and turn him around to face you, stopping his hands.

«-Nam Gyu, Look at me ! »

His wet eyes met yours for a brief moment as he quickly looked away. You felt Sad for him, wondering what could have happened to him to make him react like this. With your thumb, you whipped his tears before you gently cupped his face in your hand.

«-Explain Me, if I don’t understand.»

Nam Gyu calms himself by the soft feeling of your hands on him. Your eyes met his again and he could see you and her had nothing in common. Your eyes were full of concern and you cared for him.

«-Let’s finish the Bath first and after that I will tell You everything…»

#x reader #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #squid game #fanfiction #nam gyu squid game #nam gyu #nam gyu x reader #angst #fluff #trauma #ptsd #nam gyu x y/n #player 230 #player 124

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sykesandskittles · 13 hours ago

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CHAPTER 12

Noah

THE CAR RIDE home is quiet. Harlow is pissed. I can feel her anger from the passenger seat. She’s not even looking at me. Her gaze is fixed on the shadows passing outside the car window.

She’s angry that I was able to control her body like I told her I would. She’s been trying to resist me since I first laid eyes on her, and now I’m more determined than ever to break that resistance.

But fuck if her little moans of pleasure didn’t get me rock-fucking-hard. It took every ounce of my strength to pull away from her back there. Her pussy was so wet for me. How easy it would have been to lie her down on the sand and slide my cock into that tight cunt.

But I can’t take it that far. Not yet. First, I have to break her.

First, she needs to understand who is in control.

I pull up to a spot on the street next to her residence hall, and she pops out of the car before I even have a chance to switch off the ignition. She says nothing as she slams the car door shut, and heads up the dark sidewalk that leads up to her building.

With a curse, I kill the engine and get out of the car, following her up the path. She stops abruptly, and whirls around, shoving the tip of her finger into my chest. “I hate you.”

I laugh under my breath because that’s hilarious. Hate. She doesn’t know hate like I do. It ripples inside my soul and feeds every decision I make. Hate is what keeps my heart pounding, and my blood pumping.

No, what she feels isn’t hate. It’s anger at herself for allowing me to do the things I did to her. Wait until she sees what I have planned for her. If she thinks that’s bad, it’s only going to get a whole lot worse.

“Really? It didn’t look like you hated me a few minutes ago, on that beach.”

There’s a streetlight about ten feet away, and the warm glow plays across her high cheekbones and petal pink lips. I could kiss her right now. She’d fight me at first, but eventually, she’d give in.

Every girl falls eventually. The only difference is that most girls don’t fight this hard against the energy snapping between us. Ironic, right? The girl I hate most is the girl who sets my blood racing—maybe I’m just a masochist that way. Maybe it just proves how fucked up I really am inside.

She steps up to me and shoves a finger into my chest again. “I despise guys like you. Rich. Entitled. Like you can just order me off a menu and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. Guess what, I have my own thoughts, and none of them involve you. I know that’s hard for you to believe.”

I laugh under my breath, and step forward, forcing her finger even deeper into my chest. I glance down, then back up again. “It is hard to believe, actually,” I say evenly, my gaze moving over her face, studying every delicate feature. “The way your cheeks flush, just slightly, when I speak to you. The way your body trembles when I touch you…” I reach out and brush my thumb lightly across her plump bottom lip. “The little moans that slip past your lips when I kiss you…”

She blinks rapidly like she’s struggling hard to resist this thing between us. I love seeing that little spark of determination in her. Hunting is no fun without a chase.

She pulls back and swallows. She looks shaken, like what I just said hit home more than she cares to admit. “Stay the fuck away from me, Noah.”

I shove my hands into my pockets and flash her a smile. “Not a fucking chance, Little Rabbit.”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian smut #jolly karlsson #nick ruffilo #bad omens smut #nick folio #nick folio smut #noah x reader

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wol-fica · 3 hours ago

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I LOVED LOVED LOVE, your Sabrina carpenter fic can you do more PLEASE like maybe a continuation of the first one I NEED MORE (and maybe some NSFW) 😳☺️☺️

just because you asked so nicely, here’s this out of my good graces ;) - an

————————

Moonlight Startlight

parings - Sabrina Carpenter x G!Preader

warnings - thigh riding, fingering(s receiving), oral(r receiving), semi!public sex, swearing

an - coffeeeeeee 🤤

————————

“Mmm��” Sabrina moaned quietly in your ear, clutching onto you as you left little kisses on her neck.

You both were entangled in the back of her BMW, clinging to one another like velcro while you tortured her with gentle hickeys. Her show had ended a few hours ago, and after parking in the driveway to her mansion, you both had decided you couldn’t contain yourselves anymore.

See, watching Sabrina perform almost every night has gotten you quite peckish, especially seeing the variety of poses she does for Juno knowing full well you were the one she was executing those with. You knew she had wanted to screw around in her dressing room after she was done, but once you saw her bouncing up and down on stage and looking at you with such a seductive stare, you knew you needed to handle her elsewhere.

Now you were here with her shifting in your lap, whimpering softly as your knee rocked back and forth between her thighs, her wetness covering your jeans as she feebly got herself off. She still had her skirt on, brown plaid paired with a button down shirt (which was currently fully unbuttoned) while her panties were stuffed into her mouth. You had used your belt to tie her hands behind her back, gripping her hips to ever so slightly guide her movements during your assault on her neck.

She looked so delicious, her skin glowing from the moonlight shining down through the sunroof. Tears dripped down her face, filling her beautiful blue eyes with a soft warmth. Her eyebrows were upturned, in a position of awareness and pleasure from your consistent touching on her body.

“You look breathtaking my love.” You murmured into her temple, pushing your leg up into her, “So gorgeous.”

She moaned in response, letting her head tilt to the side to rest on yours as she rolled her hips forward and back. Her legs started to shake, thighs tensing and breathing becoming quicker as she began to approach her orgasm. You helped her along, nibbling on her collar bone and licking her sweat coated skin as she tumbled into her release.

She collapsed into your chest, panting softly and taking in gulps of the cold air when you removed her panties from her mouth. You whispered praises in her ear, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of her skirt before pulling the item down her legs.

“Don’t get to comfortable, Sab.” You said, reaching around to undo the belt while the other slipped between her thighs, “I’m not quite done with you.”

“F-fuck.” She stuttered, her soaked cunt clenching around nothing while your digits ran through her folds, “I need t-to be ruined.”

You chuckled, nudging her cheek when she inhaled sharply from your fingers pressing against her entrance, “Oh, I know sweetheart.”

You kissed the shell of her ear before pushing two fingers up into her, sighing in delight from how wet she really was. She gasped, naturally arching her back like you taught her to while she tilted her head back , semiconsciously opening her legs more to give you better access.

She cried out softly, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it when you pressed against that sweet spot just behind her pelvic bone. You curled your fingers into it, pumping them back and forth inside of her without missing a beat. Her walls began to pulse around your digits, clenching in a spastic rhythm, almost of a heart beat.

“Babe…” She whined behind her hand, her eyes fluttering from the intrusion, “m’ close…feels good….”

“I know, baby, I know.” You cooed, rolling your wrist upwards into her with each curl, “I’ll tell you when.”

She nodded, holding onto your bicep for support as she rocked her hips back and forth. You noted on her expression, eyes shut tightly, teeth sinking into her thumb, her cheeks rosy red, all familiar signs of her holding her orgasm at bay.

“Such a good girl, so obedient.” You praised, smiling when she interlaced her fingers with yours, “Cum for me, Sabrina.”

She moaned deeply, a thick sound exuding from the back of her throat. Her body tensed, the tightness of her cunt telling you that she did what you asked, and promptly covered your fingers with her wetness.

You nuzzled her cheek with your nose, slowly removing your fingers and bringing them up to your lips. Her eyes immediately snapped to you, her gaze darkening when you opened your mouth to taste her. As soon as her juices hit your tongue, you groaned, eyes rolling and smiling softly from how delicious she was.

“Tasty.” You commented, wiping the spit off your fingers on your jeans, “As always.”

“Better fucking be.” Sabrina pouted, fidgeting with the button on your pants, “I wanna please you now.”

“Yeah?” You replied, squeezing her hips gently, “Whatcha’ got in mind sweets?”

She hummed, undoing your jeans and pulling them down along with your boxers. Your cock sprung free, bobbing heavily between your legs. She slid to her knees, tying her hair back neatly before leaning forward.

Her eyes locked with yours, big, round, and innocent looking as she began to lick a stripe from the base of your cock all the way to the head. Once she reached the top, she took it in her lips, letting them wrap around your diameter before taking a few more inches into her mouth.

The sight was pleasing, to say the least. Being able to watch such a beautiful woman like Sabrina suck you off like it was her last day on earth was so special. It was intoxicating how she handled you, taking all of you into her mouth with no gag reflex, and slowly dragging all the way back up all whilst blinking innocently up at you was something out of this world.

“God ‘Brina.” You groaned, reaching forward to brush some hair out of her face, “You look so damn good with my dick down your throat.”

She hummed, making you moan from the stimulation, and started to bob her head up and down at a steady pace. Sounds of erotic slurping filled the car, precum mixed with saliva covering your girthy length as she gave you head.

Soon, your orgasm appeared, and you were quick to pushed her head all the way down so her nose was flush with your stomach. You pumped your seed down her throat, moaning in satisfaction when you heard her gulping as much as she could.

“That mouth is something else.” You said, smiling when she giggled as she got back into your lap, “Always the best, baby.”

“Again, better be.” She replied sternly, wiping your cum from the corners of her mouth and popping her fingers between her lips, “I am THE BEST for a reason, remember?”

You laughed, squeezing the fat of her ass, She wrapped her arms around your neck, gazing at you lovingly.

“I’m so in love with you, Y/L/N.” Sabrina whispered, playing with your hair.

“I’m so in love with you, Carpenter.” You whispered back, leaning in before sealing your lips together.

What a great night.

—————————

is this enough food for you people?

#wolfi random #sabrina carpenter x read #sabrina carpenter x you #sabrinasource #sab #sabrina carpenter #sabrina carpenter x reader #sabrina carpenter smut #sabrina carpenter fanfic

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thekhloediary · 11 hours ago

Text

If You Were Here

Nicholas Chavez x Reader

When he’s away, that doesn’t mean you can’t still play

Happy Saturday! More Nic smut because can we ever really get enough lol I appreciate all your comments, likes, and reblogs. Enjoy! -Khloe 💋

I was wearing his t-shirt. My favorite one of my boyfriend’s that always made me feel closer to him when he wasn't here. Nicholas was away filming a movie, and I was missing him like crazy. The soft fabric of the shirt against my skin was a familiar comfort. It had been a month since I last saw him. Well, in person, that is. FaceTime had been our way of seeing each other and staying close, even though we were miles apart. It didn’t compare to having him here with me, but it was the next best thing. It was the closest we could get to each other without being in the same space.

I sat in front of my MacBook, awaiting his voice and handsome face to fill my screen. Lip gloss and his shirt, that’s all I was wearing. Keeping things fun and interesting kept the spark alive—that never ending feeling of excitement, attraction, and connection. Luckily, for Nicholas and I, our spark hadn’t faded. Sure, it got hard missing each other, but FaceTime made the distance easier.

I missed him so much, and there was nothing more I wanted than to feel him on me and in me, but since I couldn’t have him physically, I had to make do with our calls and my thoughts. I let my hand drift down my body, imagining it was his.

“Already started without me?” I heard Nicholas say as we connected to FaceTime.

“Hey, baby, I missed you.”

“Me too. What are you up to?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, nothing,” I teased. “Just thinking about how fucking hot my boyfriend is.”

“Oh, yea?”

“Yea, he’s so fucking hot.”

He smiled. “You’re fucking hot, babe. Look at you. I like your shirt.”

“This?” I asked playfully as I ran my hand over the fabric of his t-shirt and gave him a teasing smile. “How about what’s under?” I crossed my arms, grabbing the bottom of the shirt at each side, and slowly pulled it up over my head.

“Fuck, yea,”

I moved closer to the screen to give him a better view. My hand drifted down and over my breasts, making my nipples tighten. I bit my lip as I rubbed and gently pinched them.

“I miss you so bad.” he told me, making my heart warm and my pussy ache.

“You have no idea.”

“Tell me how much. Tell me what I would be doing if I was there right now.”

“If you were here…” I started in a low, breathy voice, keeping eye contact. “You would grab my tits like this,” I gave them a gentle squeeze. “And then your tongue would taste my nipple before you took it into your mouth. You would suck it gently just the way I like it, and your tongue would feel amazing.”

“I bet you’re so wet right now.”

“I’m always so wet for you,” Just then, an idea crossed my mind. “Hold on, baby. I have something fun for you.” I reached over to my nightstand drawer, and when I was back on the screen, I held a vibrator in my hand. My pretty in pink, tried and true, thrusting rabbit. We’d had a lot of fun together, whenever Nicholas was away.

Now, he was invited to the party.

Nicholas grinned at me. He knew the night was about to get even better from here. With our eyes locked, I spread my legs and placed the tip of the vibrator against my clit.

“Look at my pretty pussy. Fuck. I miss her.” he groaned audibly at the sight. I was already so wet. Just like I had told him. Just like he knew.

But I wanted him to see.

“Let me tell you what you would do to her,” I turned on the vibrator, the sensation hitting me instantly like a bolt of electricity. “You would put your thumb on my clit and you would rub it. Around and around. Slowly at first. Then you would pick up the pace. You would put a finger inside me. Then two. Mmm. I’m dripping all over your fingers.” I moaned and closed my eyes as the toy went to work.

Nicholas watched as I pleasured myself, his body quickly reacting in response. He had watched me touch myself before, but never with a toy, and as he looked, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. From the way the vibrator was pressed against me to the way my hips bucked at the pleasurable sensations, he was turned on and getting harder by the second. He reached down and wrapped his hand around his dick, his eyes locked on the screen and ears perked as moan after moan escaped me.

With each rise and fall of his hand as he started long, slow strokes, my excitement grew more. I could feel the heat coming through the screen as we made eye contact and watched each other please ourselves.

“Mmm. That’s so hot, baby,” I moaned. “You’re so hard. I wish I could feel it.”

I moved the vibrator down to my wet hole. “If you were here…you would slide it in until I felt all of you. Then you would slide it out and ease it back in slowly. It would feel so good. Then you would fuck me. Long, deep strokes just how I like it.” I gasped as I pushed the toy inside me.

I moved the vibrator in and out, imagining it was him. One press of a button, and the setting changed, the toy now thrusting inside me. “Oh my god, fuck…”

As Nicholas watched me almost come undone, his dick was even harder now. Throbbing. Begging for the release his hand was working towards. “If you were here…” His hand moving faster. “I would fuck you so hard and you would take it like the good little girl you are. You’re a good girl, right?”

“Mm hmm,” I was breathing harder now.

“Tell me how good you are,”

“So good, baby. I would tell you to make me cum.”

“I would, but only if you asked nicely.” His grip tightened as he felt the pressure building.

“Can you make me cum, Nic?”

“Good girls say please,”

“Please, make me cum,”

He was stroking at full speed now. I felt my muscles begin to contract around the vibrator and my breath hitched as the sensation became overwhelming. I let out a string of breathy moans.

I was close.

He was too.

In and out went my vibrator.

Up and down went his hand.

Faster.

Harder.

Almost there.

Don’t stop.

“Oh my god, baby,” I whimpered. The vibrator was thrusting relentlessly inside me, pushing me fast towards the edge. My breathing became irregular and my mind went blank as I fucked myself senselessly.

I was at the peak.

Then, I looked at my screen and locked eyes again with Nicholas, who I wished was this pink rabbit inside me, and he gave me a look that said only one thing—cum for him.

And so I did. Right in time with him as he let out a long, aggressive groan and his dick spilled. I watched as spurt after spurt of his milky, white release shot from the tip like a volcanic eruption. It was fucking hot and just about sent me over the edge again.

“Fuck,” Nicholas breathed a sigh of contentment. He looked up at the screen to find me watching him with a satisfied smile.

“That was hot, baby.” I said, still a bit breathless.

“Damn…I really needed that. Thanks, babe.” he returned my smile.

“Anytime,”

“Tomorrow?”

I laughed. “Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower now and think of you while I’m in there.”

“Wish I could join you,” he made a puppy face.

“Me too. Soon enough,” I blew him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, baby,”

As our call ended, I smiled to myself. We were miles apart, yet closer than ever.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez x fem!reader #nicholas chavez x smut #smut #nicholas chavez fic #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr

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