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parkerslatte · 2 days ago

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The Purest Kind of Love || Part Two

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

Summary: The morning after the bond snaps between Y/N and Eris, Eris goes to talk to Y/N but can’t seem to have a genuine conversation. Azriel works through his frustration.

The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

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•••

The High Lord of Autumn paced outside of the large double doors into the room where the one who had turned his life upside down resided. The citrus scent he remembered from the previous night invaded his senses. It must have been nearly an hour since Eris left his own chambers early that morning to make the walk through the Forest House to where he knew the people of the Inner Circle were residing.

Despite the five separate rooms each housing members of the Inner Circle, Eris somehow knew exactly which one Y/N resided in. It was the grandest one and previously Eris’s own bedroom when he was a child. The small burn mark on the door was still present from where he singed it out of anger when his powers were just developing.

No matter how much Eris tried to distract himself, his palms sweat as he took one more shaky step towards the door. The citrus scent made his heartbeat increase as he slowly raised his fist and knocked on the door. It echoed through the empty corridor and Eris looked around, he didn’t want to be seen.

A faint reply croaked from the other side of the door. “Come in.”

Once his hand was on the handle, Eris pushed open the door. It creaked loudly and he internally groaned. When Eris fully stood inside of the room, the citrus scent mixed with a cedar and…salt. The door closed behind Eris as his eyes fixated on Y/N.

“Oh,” she said with a hint of disappointment. “I thought you would be someone else.”

From the scent alone, Eris guessed who she hoped it might have been. He didn’t say anything.

The room fell into complete silence as Eris took small calculated steps closer to Y/N. The salty smell grew the closer he got to her. The streaks on her face was a clear indication of the tears she must have shed.

“Did you sleep well?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer.

“I haven’t slept,” Y/N replied.

“I thought as much,” Eris said. “If it brings you any peace; I haven’t slept either.”

“Funnily enough it doesn’t,” Y/N snapped.

“My, my, there’s no need to bite my head off,” Eris said, his voice calm.

Y/N’s eyes met his for the first time and the bond hummed to life between them. It made Eris want to step closer to her– it was as if a rope was tied around his waist and was pulling taunt, beckoning him in her direction.

“You seem nice enough, Eris, perhaps a little full of yourself, but I am clearly not in the mood now,” Y/N stated.

Eris held his hands up in defence. “I didn’t come here to fight you. If you must know, my original intention was to ask if you were okay.” A flicker of surprise flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone as quick as it arrived. “But you seem to have already answered that question already.”

A long sigh passed Y/N’s lips. “No, I am not okay. How could I be?”

“A mating bond snapping was not what I expected to feel last night,” said Eris, holding his hands behind his back and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket.

“You are not the only one surprised by that news,” Y/N said. “Now, will you please leave me alone. I don’t feel like talking right now.”

Eris nodded. “As you wish.”

As he turned his back, he tried to ignore the small sigh of relief slipping from Y/N’s lips. As his hand touched the cool metal of the door handle, Eris inclined his head to Y/N.

“Just so you know, I am finding this news just as surprising and as hard as you,” Eris muttered. “I may not show it, but I am terrified.”

Eris didn’t wait around to hear if Y/N would respond. The door flung open and he stepped into the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in her room.

When he was back in the corridor, Eris wiped his palms on his jacket and groaned. He hadn’t meant to come across so condescending, he had every intention of being genuine and asking her if she needed anything, if there was anything he could do. But the moment he found himself slipping into that vulnerability, his defences rose and were harder than steel.

“That is a sight I wasn’t expecting,” the irksome voice of Rhysand spoke.

“This is my home in case you forgot, Rhysand,” Eris drawled, already irritated to spend time Rhysand’s presence.

“A home that I helped you claim,” Rhysand replied.��

“Did you? You and I seem to be remembering differently,” said Eris, his voice dripping in annoyance. “I seem to recall that your two lap dogs, Azriel and Cassian, doing most of the work while you eye fucked your High Lady.”

A threatening growl emitted from Rhys. “Careful, Eris. You just claimed your title as High Lord. It would be a shame to pass it along so quickly.”

“Exactly, I just became High Lord. My powers have increased, Rhysand. I could incinerate you where you stand and I wouldn’t need to even move an inch,” Eris stated, folding his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at the High Lord of Night.

“What were you doing in Y/N’s room?” Rhysand asked.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Eris commented. “This is my house, I can go where I like.”

“Stay away from her, Eris,” Rhysand sneered.

“Or what? Your shadowsinger will take me to his torture chamber?” Eris questions. “I don’t see how checking on someone after they have been crying the whole night is a valid reason to be tortured but I guess that is just how the Night Court works.”

“She was crying?” Rhysand asked, eyes darting to the closed door.

“Sobbing her heart out,” Eris said. “It was only when I comforted her did she stop.”

Rhysand glared at Eris. “Stay away from her.”

“Why? I seem to have done more than her friends did,” Eris retorted.

“I won’t warn you again, Eris,” Rhysand threatened.

A low chuckle slipped past Eris’s lips. “You seem to forget who you are talking to, Rhysand. I am the High Lord of this court. If you lay a finger on me, I am within my right to declare war against Night. And right now as it stands, the Autumn Court has more allies than the Night Court.” Eris took a step back and straightened his jacket. “I want you out of my court by midday. Y/N and Nesta are allowed to stay if they desire. They are the only two of your court I can abide having a conversation with.”

Eris turned on his heel and walked down the hallway just as Rhysand knocked on Y/N’s door. A faint ‘Go away’ was heard from the other side. Eris was not sure why but it made a smile tug at his lips.

***

Blood covered his hands and the dummy he had beat to a pulp. It was the third one Azriel had battered. The first two were thrown into the corner of the room haphazardly. There wasn’t a fourth one to use so Azriel immediately picked up the sharpest knives that were in the training room.

The ache in his chest hadn’t eased and it wasn’t because of the bargain. Something was lost in the Autumn Court; his hope. He had thought that his hope had been shattered beyond repair before. First with Mor and the next time with Gwyn. At least when he was with Elain, he never needed to cling to the hope of her being his mate.

As the first blade cut through the air, Azriel let out a long sigh. It was foolish to believe he would find his mate in Y/N. And Azriel did truly believe it for a time. There was no one else in the world that made him feel the way Y/N did. Even their transition from friendship into a relationship had been easy. He had always trusted her, confided in her, bonded with her. Azriel knew that his hope was shattered– for good this time. He couldn’t imagine a world where there would be someone better matched for him than Y/N.

Azriel threw the final blade in his hand and he watched as it missed the target completely and embedded itself into the stone pillar behind.

“Not only did you crack a glass, you now decide to begin destroying my home,” Cassian commented as he walked into the training room.

Azriel spared Cassian a quick glance before turning his back to him to grab bandages for his hands.

“You weren’t with us when we all came back from Autumn,” Cassian said. “Y/N said you left early.”

At the mention of her name, Azriel stiffened. “I came back last night.”

“Without Y/N?” Cassian questions.

Another person entered the room and the shadows around Azriel began to grow restless. He couldn’t handle any more questions.

“It seems as if you don’t know where your lover is either, Azriel,” Rhys commented. “I was wondering where she went after we arrived back here this morning. I was hoping she was with you.”

“If anything she is most likely at her cottage,” Azriel answered. His heart stung. Only hours ago he would have been calling it home. Their home.

“And do tell me that if she is there, why are you here?” Rhys questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You have a day off, typically we rarely see you.”

“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” Azriel growled as he wrapped his hands up.

Behind him, Cassian frowned, stepping closer to the shadowsinger, his eyes widening once he noticed his bloodied hands. “What happened to your hands?” Cassian asked.

Rhys inclined his head to the heap of training dummies in the corner of the room. “I assume Az is letting out some anger.”

“I’m not angry,” Azriel stated.

“Tell that to the dummies I now need to replace,” Cassian groaned.

Azriel turned his body to face his brothers, eyes cast down to the floor. “I will be returning to my room here. Only if that is okay with you, Cass.”

Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course. But why? You’ve been living with Y/N for nearly four years.”

“There won’t be any more,” Azriel responded.

The High Lord glanced at the open doors of the training room. “I see. I hope that this doesn’t affect the work the two of you occasionally do together.”

“I can be professional,” Azriel snapped, pulling on the end of the bandage too tight.

“Why did the two of you split up?” Cassian questioned, still looking utterly confused.

“I’d actually like to know that myself,” Rhys added.

“It’s none of your business,” Azriel retorted. “But you will pry regardless of what I say. All you need to know is that we were not compatible.”

Cassian snorted. “Not compatible my ass! Az, I’ve seen the way you look at her. You look at her like she is the centre of your universe, as if she was a goddess herself.”

“And how did she look at me?” Azriel asked, honestly curious. Though Cassian was rather talented at overexerting the truth, he wanted to know the way Y/N looked at him when he wasn’t looking. Did she look at him the same way? Or did she look at him the way many others did…in pity.

“I never really noticed a difference in the way she looked at you,” Cassian replied. “But she was… touchier with you than anyone else.”

Azriel deflated at Cassian’s answer. Did Y/N never look at him any other way but neutrally? Was he wrong about the connection they had the whole time?

“I see,” Azriel voiced.

Rhys’s gaze still bore into Azriel as if he were trying to read his body language but Azriel had gotten used to hiding how he feels so he was an expert in deception. There was a presence in his mind and Azriel knew that Rhys was lurking, just waiting for him to lower his walls to find out the true story. The walls in his mind remained impenetrable.

“I still don’t understand why your relationship ended,” Cassian wondered aloud. “You have been happier than you have in years.”

“Can you just leave it alone, Cassian!” Azriel snapped. “I do not want to talk about it anymore. Our relationship ended because of our incompatibility, that is all. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Of course he told a lie, he had to. Azriel didn’t want to admit to his two happily mated brothers that the female who had lit up his life was mated to another– destined for a life of fiery love with a High Lord; it was what she deserved. He remembered the pity in their eyes when Gwyn had told him she had found her mate and Azriel never wished to be looked on like that again by anyone.

Once again, Cassian’s mouth opened as if to argue back but after quickly looking at Rhys, Cassian closed his mouth. Rhys’s orders were most likely whispered into his mind. Azriel was grateful.

“If you don’t mind, I need to go and collect my things,” Azriel stated, making his way towards the door.

Only after a few steps, however, it was as if the world was mocking him as Y/N appeared in the threshold. Azriel’s whole body went rigid as he looked at her. She looked exhausted.

“Az,” Y/N whispered.

For a split second, Azriel wanted to run back into her arms and pretend as if he were her mate instead. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and bury her head into her neck, breathing in her sweet intoxicating scent. They would return home and everything would be as it should.

After that second was up, Azriel’s face washed over with one made of stone. His expression didn’t change. Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a habit Azriel knew all too well. It indicated that she was nervous or uncomfortable. By the tension in the air, Azriel knew that she was feeling the latter.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, Azriel walked towards the open doorway, aiming to leave without a fuss. Y/N watched him the whole way, her eyebrows knitted together. His intention was to leave without a fuss but as Azriel walked past Y/N, his arm knocked her shoulder, causing her to stumble the smallest amount.

Azriel closed his eyes and continued his stride. He hadn’t meant to knock her. He was too focused on leaving that room that nothing else really mattered. But Azriel didn’t look back, he couldn’t– because the moment he did, he knew he would run back to her and beg on his knees for her to take him back.

Once Azriel was far enough away, he stopped and let his wings scrape on the floor, not having the energy to hold them up anymore. He looked down at his bandaged hands to find the blood soaking through the white fabric. With a clench of his fists, Azriel continued down the hall, trying to scrub any thought of Y/N from his mind.

***

Neither Rhys’s nor Cassian said anything as they stood motionless in the training room. Y/N didn’t have anything to say either as she took a small hesitant step inside. Did Azriel tell them? She thought. Though if she had to admit to herself, she didn’t want anyone knowing of her bond with Eris yet. She knew that nobody would take kindly to the news.

“What did you do to him, Y/N?” Cassian asked.

“I–” Y/N failed to find the words as she replayed Cassian’s question in her head. What did I do?

“Why do you assume I did something?” she questioned.

“You saw him,” said Cassian, gesturing to where Azriel disappeared. “I have never seen him that angry before.”

“Again,” Y/N repeated. “Why do you assume that I did something?”

“I don’t see you looking too upset,” Cassian scoffed.

Y/N frowned. “How do you know what I feel? Just because I am not punching and beating things up doesn’t mean that I am not upset.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten us and tell us why your relationship with Azriel ended,” Rhys chimed in. “Azriel is reluctant to tell us.”

“It is none of your business,” Y/N snapped. “It is private between Azriel and I.”

“And Eris,” Rhys added.

“What?” Y/N questioned.

“I watched him slip out of your room this morning,” Rhys commented, picking a piece of lint from his clothes.

“After he tried to comfort me after Azriel left me alone after the celebration,” Y/N explained, getting more irritated by the second. “If you dare to think anything else, Rhysand, mother help you.”

Rhys shrugged. “I wasn’t implying anything.”

Cassian who had silently stood beside Rhys spoke up. “Why don’t you go home, Y/N? Azriel is staying here and it doesn’t seem like he wants to see you.”

Y/N scoffed. “So if Azriel is upset then you don’t want me around? Why haven’t you assumed that I also want to be around my family? Or does that sentiment only extend to Azriel for the both of you? After all, I was never invited to family dinners by the both of you, that was always Feyre, Mor or Azriel’s job. It seems like I was only your family once Azriel and I were in a relationship, despite the fact that I have known you for around five hundred years.”

“Y/N–”

Cassian was cut off by Y/N’s hand. “No, it’s fine. I now know exactly where I stand.”

“You know we think of you as family,” Rhys cut in.

Saoire shook her head. “No, Rhys, you don’t. I see that clearly now.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian had the chance to respond as Y/N quickly left the room. She didn’t exactly know where she was going but all she knew was that she wanted to be alone. As she walked down the corridor, she could faintly smell the familiar scent of Azriel and Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew that there was no way to convince him to stay with her. Her soul was tied to someone else, the male she was fated to be with.

Eris Vanserra was someone Y/N had never met personally; only heard stories about– and most of the stories were not positive. Yet, when she danced with him last night, even if she wasn’t leaning into his fake flirtations, she had an amazing time dancing with him. Even this morning when he checked up on her after their mating bond snapped, he didn’t need to do that. And left the room when she asked him to. It was the bare minimum but they didn’t align with the stories of the cruel, evil, wicked High Lord that the Inner Circle had spoken about for many years.

Y/N shook her head, hoping to rid herself of thoughts about Eris and continued down the hallway. No destination in mind, all that she wanted to do was be alone and dive into her own research– anything to distract her from her reality.

Taglist:

@22hilda @lazypostfandomer @inkedinshadows @awkardnerd @azysmate @therealmoonstone @lets-talk-about-xyz @starryevermore @babypeapoddd @tothestarsandwhateverend @batboyrhyrhy @callsigns-haze @wildflowermooon @wildfloweroutlaw @acourtofbatboydreams @bookandtealover @queenoffeysand @the-sweet-psycho @the-starlight-way @curiosandcourioser @cheekym8s @honk4emoboyz @paleidiot @buckystevelove @that-girl-reading @readinggeeklmao @hextech-bros @scarsandallaz @paige0103 @k8r123-blog @asweetblueberry2 @bloodicka @eddsthemunson @fourthwing4ever @crypticme @that-one-bibliophole @lilah-asteria @sassybluebird @ninthcircleofprythian @imma-too-many-fandoms @happyt0exist @spiritualmooshroom @phoenix666stuff @imagoddessinmystories @sveretrice @stormieandateacup @impossibelle @opium-den

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #high lord eris #azriel x eris #eris acotar #eris x reader #azris

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stuckinmymind22 · 2 days ago

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wise words | ace x gn!reader

and then it hit you - "you're in love with me"

wc: 1,127

tags: its just a bunch of fluff

series: "you're in love with me"

a/n: ik i said i'd post this tomorrow but i got too excited. this one ended up being much longer than i initially intended it to ngl i really like this one, it might be my favorite so far (both in the series and in general)

"ace," the whitebeard had said, making eye contact. the usage of his name told ace that whatever he had been about to say would be serious. "you are in love." pops had decided to have mercy on the boy, leaving ace alone to sit with what he had said, only slightly struggling to stand his nurses running after him. ace had been left frozen as he processed pop's words. it had felt like pieces falling into place and the world felt clearer. holy shit, he did love you

not proofread

ace had been treating you differently lately, that difference became starkly apparent when compared to how he acts with the rest of the crew. ace was known for being affectionate, both verbally and physically, especially when he gets a few drinks in him, but the way he acted around marco for example paled in comparison to the way that he would hang onto you.

ever since you returned from a mission just over a week ago he had barely left your side - that's not to say that you minded it, you had always had a bit of a thing for him and now you were starting to suspect he felt the same.

recently, you had discovered how he has been going out of his way to be around you. someone spilt the beans on how he has been taking over tasks assigned to other members just so he could be near you.

and here he was, high up on a mast helping you repair the edge of a sail that was damaged in a recent storm. a task that in all honesty was beneath him. a task you knew he hated, you remembered how he would complain about it.

ace kept poking his head around the side of the sail to talk to you, his eyes sparkled as you joked around and you found yourself getting lost in them. the two of you weren't exactly on task, you should've been done with this by now but no one has said anything and you weren't about to complain. you were basking in his warm company while trying to sus out how into you he was. the gears were turning then it hit you.

"holy shit," you say causing his head to snap to you in concern. you couldn't help but vocalize your revelation, "you're in love with me."

immediately, his playful smile fell as his face dropped, eyes going wide. out of all of the things he thought you might say, that was not even an option. still, he made no move to deny it

ace himself had only just realized the way he felt about you when pops, of all people, had called him out on it.

it all had happened after a banquet thrown in celebration of your return. you (along with several others) had just returned to the moby dick after a voyage to one of the islands under whitebeard's protection. the party had been dwindling down and you'd been making the rounds, and he'd been completely unable to keep his eyes off you, even when talking to pops his eyes consistently flickered over to you.

a small chuckle coming from pops was the thing that had pulled him away from you. "you're in deep, my son," the man said full of mirth. he had laughed even more at ace's confused face, "my boy, you are completely smitten."

"w-what do you mean?" ace had stuttered. his bright red face should have betrayed his look of confusion, but the puzzlement had been genuine.

"you haven't been able to take your eyes off of them since they returned. you struggled to even before they left," a light joyful laughter had broken whitebeard's speech, "haven't you noticed how you always gravitate towards them? don't you feel lighter when they are around?"

answering honestly ace had skeptically nodded to the line of questioning. the legendary pirate shook his head with a smile, muttering something about kids.

"ace," the old man had said, making eye contact. the usage of his name told ace that whatever he had been about to say would be serious. "you are in love."

pops had decided to have mercy on the boy, leaving ace alone to sit with what he had said, only slightly struggling to stand his nurses running after him.

ace had been left frozen as he processed pop's words. it had felt like pieces falling into place and the world felt clearer. holy shit, he did love you.

ace had stood in place for an undetermined amount of time, stewing in the realization. it had been marco who snapped ace out of his daze. after minor amounts of prodding, ace had confided in the doctor what pops said. to his surprise the first division commander had been relieved, telling ace that everyone on the ship seemed to know how the two of you felt about each other except for you two.

he wanted to believe you felt the same way, but he didn't want to hold onto false hope, despite what marco had said ace couldn't believe that you felt the same way, but he also knew he had a duty to tell you.

at the moment ace had no plans to make his feelings known (he hadn’t quite come up with anything yet, it was still new to him) and the last thing he expected was that you would figure it out on your own. to say the least he was caught off guard.

"am- am i right?" doubt and excitement are mixed into your question.

his face, all the way to the tips of his ears alight, the boy who was quite literally made of fire was burning up. ace nodded, the move paralleling a child caught doing something that they shouldn't be. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes, but that all changed when at the edge of his vision, he saw a large smile blossom on your face.

you were so excited you didn't know what to do. you started to resent the fact that he was just outside of your reach when all you wanted to do at the moment is kiss him.

"let's get down, we can finish this later," you proposed. ace agreed to your plan with hesitation.

once both of your feet were firmly placed on the deck, you grabbed him by the necklace and he stumbled into your lips. ace was startled by your actions at first but he was quick to melt into the kiss. you dropped his necklace to hook your arms over his shoulders. his hands moved to frame your face, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

the wolf whistles in the background all faded until they felt worlds away, as if all that existed in that moment was the two of you. reluctantly, the kiss was broken when the need for oxygen started to outweigh the need for each other's lips.

ace rested his forehead against yours as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. he couldn't help the massive smile that formed on his face - this went way better than he ever could have imagined.

masterlist | damn, that shit was so cute, patting myself on the back fr

#one piece #one piece x you #one piece x reader #ace x reader #one piece headcanons #ace fluff #one piece fluff #portgas ace x reader #fluff #fire fist ace x reader #ace x you #gn reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace fluff

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thedemoninme141 · 2 days ago

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The Maiden Of Death Part 2

Summary: You finally needed Wednesday for something and she learns some interesting things about you in exchange and yet she wants to know more.

Part 1

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 5.8K-ish Warnings: Nothing Really? I guess roles reversed by Wednesday getting her feelings hurt just a tiny bit so a little angst?

The walk back from the bus station was a quiet one. Even Enid, who could usually fill any void with her endless chatter, seemed reluctant to speak. She kept glancing at you nervously, as though unsure whether to say something or not. Eugene walked close to her, shielding himself behind her as if you were radiating gamma rays.

You didn’t so much as glance back at the others, walking as if you were alone in the world.

Wednesday lagged behind slightly, her dark eyes fixed on you. Questions churned in her mind, but she knew that asking them outright would show her curiosity. And she would never, under any circumstances, let you know how deeply you intrigued her.

Still, the scene from earlier refused to leave her mind. The way you had dismantled those boys, it wasn’t just violence. It was precision, efficiency, calculated as if you had done this hundreds of times before.

But what stuck out the most was what she didn’t see. You hadn’t conjured any weapons. You hadn’t used whatever strange ability had allowed you to summon a parrying knife in the library.

Why?

The question burned at the edges of her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it at first, reasoning that it was none of her concern. But the more she tried to push it away, the more it consumed her. If you could summon a weapon in an instant, why bother with a bat and a chain? Why risk getting your hands dirty when you didn’t have to?

Without realizing it, she had quickened her pace and was now walking beside you. Your focus was still straight ahead as if you knew Wednesday is going to ask something.

The quiet stretched between you two, until Wednesday broke it.

“Why didn’t you just conjure a weapon?”

The question was direct, delivered with her usual bluntness.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even glance her way.

Wednesday’s irritation flared. “It would have been faster. Cleaner. More effective.”

Still, you said nothing.

Enid and Eugene exchanged worried glances behind you. They really don't want to be caught between crossfire.

“Are you going to ignore me?” Wednesday pressed.

You finally stopped walking. Turning slightly, you met her gaze with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. For a moment, Wednesday thought you might ignore her again. But then, in a voice devoid of emotion, you said, “I can conjure weapons that I’ve… earned. Weapons that have accepted me. All of them are lethal.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t explain. You simply turned and continued walking, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.

Wednesday followed in silence, her mind racing. What did you mean by “earned”? And what exactly did a weapon have to do to “accept” someone?

She wanted to push further, to demand an explanation, but she stopped herself. It wasn’t hesitation, she told herself. It was strategy. She would learn the truth eventually, there was no need to rush.

But as she watched you walking ahead, your shoulders relaxed, your posture indifferent, Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling that you were hiding something. Something deeper. Darker.

You were a puzzle, and Wednesday Addams would solve you.

No one exchanged a word until the four of you reached the main building. You walked away from the group without so much as a glance back. No goodbye, no acknowledgment of the people who had trailed after you all day.

Enid watched you go, a small frown tugging at her lips. “She could’ve at least said bye,” Enid sighed and nudged Wednesday. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m exhausted, and you’ve probably got some brooding to do or whatever.”

They walked in silence back to their shared dorm room. Enid occasionally glanced at Wednesday, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

When they finally reached their room, Enid flopped onto her bed with a dramatic groan.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Y/N is just… wow. She’s like… you but not you. Does that make sense?”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She was already at her desk, pulling out a book and flipping it open. But despite her best efforts, the words on the page blurred together, her focus slipping.

“She’s so quiet,” Enid continued, propping herself up on her elbows. “Like, quieter than you, and I didn’t think that was possible."

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the edge of her book.

“Did you see how she looked at those guys? Like they were… I don’t know, bugs or something. And then wham! Down they went. I mean, I get it, they deserved it, but still.”

“She handled it,” Wednesday said finally, her voice flat.

Enid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she handled it, but it was… intense. And you don’t think I didn’t notice you staring the whole time."

“I wasn’t staring,” Wednesday snapped, her tone defensive.

Enid smirked, sitting up fully now. “Oh, you were staring. I don’t blame you, though. She’s… interesting. In a creepy, mysterious way. I mean, you two could totally be related or something. Have you asked your parents if you lost a twin or something?"

Wednesday ignored her, her eyes fixed on the pages of her book, though she hadn’t absorbed a single word.

The truth was, Enid wasn’t entirely wrong. You were interesting, irritatingly so. You were like a distorted mirror image of her, similar in some ways but fundamentally different in others. The quiet, the detachment, the sharpness, it all felt too familiar and yet so different.

As the night wore on, Enid sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop, scrolling through social media and occasionally humming under her breath. Wednesday remained at her desk, engrossed in her book, though her thoughts strayed far from the text.

“Huh,” Enid said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Wednesday asked without looking up.

“Of course Y/N doesn’t have anything social. Can’t find her anywhere.” Enid frowned at her screen, scrolling furiously. “No Instagram, no Snapchat. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Does she even have a phone?”

“Maybe she doesn't want to be a slave to modern technology either,” Wednesday said coolly, though the revelation piqued her interest. "And why are you so concerned with finding her online?”

“Why are you so concerned with finding her online?” “Because I wanted to write a blog post about her!!!” Enid said, her eyes wide with excitement. “And, don’t you want to know more about her? Where she’s from? Why she’s here? What her deal is?”

Of course Wednesday wanted to know. She just wasn’t about to admit that to Enid.

Instead, she closed her book with a deliberate snap and said, “If she wanted us to know, she would have told us.”

“Or maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her,” Enid countered.

Wednesday didn’t reply. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to ask you. How she would ask you. The thought annoyed her. She wasn’t supposed to care about such things. And yet, here she was, her mind tangled up in questions about you, questions she didn’t know how to ask, questions she wasn’t even sure you’d answer.

The calculated knocks startled neither of them, it was gentle but deliberate, three slow raps against the wood. Enid glanced up first. “Uh, I'll go get it.”

She hopped up and padded to the door, opening it cautiously. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing there, hands tucked into the pockets of your black hoodie.

“Is Wednesday here?” you asked.

Enid blinked, clearly surprised, before nodding and stepping aside, opening the door wider. Wednesday finally turned in her seat, and there you stood… you didn’t step in.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed, reading your body language in an instant. You wanted to speak to her, but not here, not with Enid present. She closed her book before standing and as she passed Enid, she motioned with a small, firm gesture for her roommate to stay inside and close the door.

She stepped out into the hall, brushing past you with just enough space to show her own sense of control. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even seem fazed as Enid let out a defeated sigh and shut the door behind them.

The hall was empty, silent. You didn’t waste time. “There’s another library in Nevermore.” It wasn’t a question. “Where is it?”

The Nightshade Library. Hidden deep within Nevermore, its entrance disguised behind one of the worst puzzles she has ever solved, "Snap twice", Couldn't they make it a bit more challenging?

“Why do you think I would know where it is?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, as if evaluating her. “Because if anyone knows, it’s you.”

The faintest flicker of satisfaction crossed Wednesday’s face. She liked being recognized for her intellect, especially by you.... wait what?

“And if I did know?” she countered. “Why would I share that information with you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you leaned against the wall, your dark eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her feel, for the first time in a long while, as if someone were looking through her rather than at her.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, your voice low and measured.

Wednesday hesitated. She could deny her curiosity, feign disinterest, but she knew you would see through it. So she decided on honesty, or at least a version of it.

“I’ve solved enough mysteries to recognize one when I see it,” she said, her tone steady. “And you, Y/n, are a mystery. You’re here for something. At first, I suspected it was something sinister, but…” Her lips twitched ever so slightly, not quite a smile. “Your actions at the shop earlier today disproved that theory. Not that I’m impressed or anything.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Wednesday’s surprise, your lips curved into a faint smirk.

“One good deed doesn’t fix a thousand sins, Wednesday,” you said.

It was the first time she had seen you smirk, and something about it unsettled her. It wasn’t the smirk itself, it was the fact that it felt… earned. As if it was meant for her and her alone.

And it lingered only for a sceond before fading.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said. “I’ll tell you about me. Not everything, but enough to satisfy your curiosity. How much depends on how much you help me get what I need.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together, her mind working rapidly to process your words. This was a gamble, a game of secrets and trust or lack thereof. And yet, she found herself intrigued.

“Very well,” she said finally. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll be satisfied with scraps. If I’m helping you, I’ll expect substance, not crumbs.”

You didn’t respond, but something in your gaze shifted, a silent acknowledgment of her terms. Without another word, you turned and began walking down the hall.

Wednesday followed, her steps light and deliberate, her mind churning with questions. What were you looking for in the Nightshade Library? Why were you so guarded? And why... why did she feel something seeing your smirk?

The statue of Edgar Allan Poe was just ahead as the two of you stopped.

Wednesday stepped forward, she glanced at you, her dark eyes daring you to comment. You remained expressionless, giving her nothing, as always.

She snapped her fingers twice.

The faint clicking of mechanisms echoed, and the statue shifted. Its heavy base slid back, revealing a dark staircase spiraling downward.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way down the stairs.

Once at the center of the library, Wednesday turned to face you. “What are you looking for?”

“That’s not part of the deal.” You said as your eyes were scanning the shelves, skipping over rows of books as though you instinctively knew what you sought. She internally sighed for even offering to help.

It didn’t take long. Your gaze landed on a dusty, leather-bound tome nestled deep in the recesses of a high shelf. The book was thick and worn, and it was tightly bound by some sort of green metallic wires. It was dusty, untouched for ages like most of the books here.

As you reached for it, Wednesday approached, her curiosity clearly piqued. She peered over your shoulder as you pulled the book free, revealing its cracked and worn leather cover etched with strange, arcane symbols. You carried it to a nearby table and set it down carefully, your fingers brushing away the layers of dust.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Before you could answer or more likely refuse to answer, a faint sound from behind you drew your attention.

Without hesitation, you conjured a katana in one fluid motion. You spun on your heel, the blade slicing through the air, and lunged.

The blade sang through the air as you moved with precision, grabbing the intruder and shoving him against the bookshelves. Xavier’s mask clattered to the ground as he struggled against your grip, your blade pressed firmly against his throat.

“Wait, wait, wait! Stop! Whoa! Whoa!” Xavier stammered, his wide eyes darting between the blade and your impassive face.

Wednesday smirked, crossing her arms as she observed the scene. “You shouldn’t have stopped,” she mocked dryly. “Xavier could use an upgrade. He might finally get the touch he needs so much! Getting rid of his face.”

Xavier shot her a panicked glance. “Not helping, Wednesday!”

One by one, they all came out, the members of nightshade society—Bianca, Ajax, Yoko, Kent and Divina.

“You can’t just bring whoever you want down here,” Bianca snapped. “This place is supposed to be a secret.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, her smirk deepening. “Clearly, it’s not much of a secret if you’re the ones guarding it.”

Bianca shot her a warning look before turning her gaze to you. “You don’t belong here,” Bianca said, her voice cold. “And in case you didn’t know, Ajax can stone you, and Yoko is faster than you’ll ever be. So I’d think twice before trying anything.”

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and replied in an even, calm tone, “Do you want to try?”

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Wednesday noted the faint flicker of fear in their eyes, a reaction she found... satisfying.

Yoko stepped forward, chuckling softly. “I’m not faster than you. Don’t mind Bianca; she’s still feisty from getting beaten by you in fencing.” She shot a playful look at Bianca, who scowled in response. Yoko’s grin awkwardly widened as she pulled Bianca back, making way for you.

“By the way,” Yoko added, glancing at Xavier, who was still pinned to the bookshelf, “can I make a tiny request? Not really important, but maybe let go of him before he has a heart attack?”

Your gaze shifted to Xavier, the look in your eyes promising, If you try that again, I won’t stop my sword next time. Slowly, you pulled the blade back as it vanished into the air as you unconjured it.

Without sparing another glance at the group, you reached for the book, tucking it under your arm as you turned to leave.

Wednesday followed, pausing only to glance over her shoulder at the stunned group. “I’d say it was nice catching up, but I’d be lying.”

You didn’t speak as Wednesday walked behind you. She didn’t expect you to. But the weight of unanswered questions was pressing on her. Finally, she broke it.

“What’s in the book?” she asked,

“Information,” you replied simply.

She frowned slightly, pressing further. “Information about what?”

“Not me.”

The two words were curt, but their meaning was clear. Wednesday’s mind immediately clicked back to the terms of your deal. She had taken you to the Nightshade Library, and in return, you had promised to answer her questions about yourself. But this book wasn’t part of that exchange. It was something else entirely.

“Fine,” Wednesday said “Now it’s my part of the deal. I ask you questions about yourself, and you answer truthfully. Do not attempt to lie. I can tell the difference.”

Finally, you stopped and turned. There was something unreadable in your expression—calm, detached, as always, but then it shifted. Slowly, deliberately, your lips curled into the faintest smirk. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Wednesday caught it.

That smirk.

She hadn’t seen any emotion on your face Enid had tried to engage you, when the Nightshade Society had surrounded you with suspicion and hostility. She had only seen it when it was only you and her, it was there, just for her.

It was... unsettling.

Before Wednesday could dwell on it, your voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Ask your questions and be done with it.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched behind her back as her mind raced through the countless questions she wanted to ask. But she knew she had to start somewhere.

“Why are you really here?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do at your last school to get transferred here, or did you come willingly?” she elaborated.

“I came willingly,” you said without hesitation, your voice calm, as if the answer was obvious.

“Why?” she pressed.

“I had work.”

“Work?”

“Demon hunting.”

It was so matter-of-fact, so devoid of emotion, that Wednesday was momentarily speechless. She blinked, half-expecting that smirk to return, telling her it was sarcasm. But you didn’t. Your face remained neutral, your posture relaxed yet guarded, as if you had just told her something as mundane as the weather forecast.

“What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” you said evenly. “I get hired to hunt demons. My father trained me.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight. Wednesday prided herself on her composure, but even she found it difficult to mask the intrigue and unease bubbling inside her.

Her mind raced. Demon hunting? It sounded absurdly dangerous, but the calmness with which you spoke of it suggested otherwise. Still, she found herself grappling with the idea of someone her age taking on such a task.

“How old are you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She instantly hated how curious she sounded, but the question lingered nonetheless.

You rolled your eyes, the closest thing to irritation she’d seen from you. “I age normally. I’m your age.”

It was such a simple answer, but it left her with more questions than before. Why would someone your age be hunting demons? Why would your father send you to Nevermore now? And more importantly, why did you move through the world with such deadly precision, like you were always preparing for the next fight?

“Why do you hunt demons?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, you simply looked at her, your expression unreadable. Then, finally, you said, “I think the questions you’ve asked are enough payment for your assistance.”

It wasn’t a refusal, but it was a wall, just like the one's she has built around herself. You weren’t going to answer. Not now. And yet, the way you avoided the question only made her more determined to uncover the truth. Wednesday wasn’t used to being denied, and she found the challenge you presented both infuriating and... intriguing.

She followed you silently as you began walking again, her gaze flicking to the book in your hands.

“Demons,” she finally said, her voice slicing through the quiet. “What are they exactly? Giant monsters? Beasts with claws and fangs? Creatures of folktales?”

You didn’t answer as if her words had evaporated into the night air.

The lack of response was infuriating and Wednesday wasn’t even surprised. She had expected resistance. Still, she persisted. “You claim to hunt them. Surely you can describe what it is you face. Or do you find it amusing to leave me in ignorance?”

Again, you didn’t respond, and Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Her dark eyes flicked to the book you held, its worn cover and metallic bindings catching the faint light. Now the book intrigued her just as much as you did.

Her mind raced with possibilities. She couldn’t simply take the book from you; you would sense her intent before she could act.

Dispatching Thing to steal it was out of the question as well. She could already envision the outcome: you sensing Thing’s presence, catching him mid-act, and possibly doing something drastic. The way you had nearly sliced Xavier’s throat in the blink of an eye without any hesitation just for sneaking up on you... No, she couldn’t risk Thing. She would need another way to learn more.

Her voice cut through the silence again. “Your swordsmanship, was that something your father taught you?”

This time, you slowed your steps, just enough for her to notice. For a fleeting moment, something flickered in your eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“No,” you said simply. “I figured that out.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together in disbelief. “You figured that out?” she repeated, her tone laced with skepticism. “No one simply ‘figures out’ swordsmanship. It takes years of training, discipline—”

You interrupted her “I figured it out,” you repeated, leaving no room for argument.

Frustration simmered beneath Wednesday’s composed exterior. Your cryptic responses were as infuriating as they were intriguing. She couldn’t fathom how someone could master a skill like that without instruction. But then, nothing about you followed conventional logic.

The two of you reached the steps to Ophelia Hall, for a moment, it seemed the conversation was over, but Wednesday’s curiosity refused to let her remain silent.

When the hallway to her dorm came into view, her frustration boiled into something she rarely allowed herself to feel: desperation. You had what you wanted now. There was no more reason for you to seek her out, no leverage she could use to force you into another exchange.

This was it.

For the first time, Wednesday Addams felt the sting of helplessness. And she hated it.

As you turned to leave, something in her snapped. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “What?”

Her mind scrambled for something, anything to keep the conversation from ending. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“The way you beat me,” she clarified, her tone sharpening as if to mask the vulnerability behind her request. “During our last fencing match.”

You turned fully now, facing her.

She continued, her voice cool and measured. “I know how to handle a rapier. I’ve studied various forms of swordsmanship. But the technique you used—it's unlike anything I’ve seen. It could prove… useful.”

“Useful?” you repeated, your tone neutral but tinged with curiosity

Wednesday hesitated for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it coming up with something. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to put Bianca in her place again. Your technique might be just the thing to humiliate her properly.”

“And what makes you think I’d teach you?”

She rolled her eyes as her tone sharpened. “It’s not a matter of ‘teaching.’ You wouldn’t need to explain. I can observe. All I need is for you to demonstrate. You seem to enjoy a challenge. Consider this one.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying her. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Wednesday felt her irritation flare. That expression again. She hated how it made her feel—off-balance, as though you were the one dissecting her.

“I’ll think about it,” you said at last.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now,” you replied.

You turned without another word, continuing down the hall toward your dorm. Wednesday remained rooted to the spot. Her thoughts spiraled, replaying every word, every glance, every flicker of emotion you had allowed her... only her to see.

She had what she wanted, another thread to pull, another opportunity to uncover more about you. But even as she told herself it was all for the sake of satisfying her curiosity, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.

She ignored it. Or at least, she tried to.

When Wednesday stepped into her room, Enid bolted upright in her bed,

“Wednesday! Oh my god, you’re finally back!” Enid whisper-yelled, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation. She clutched her phone like it was her emotional support animal.

“I was so scared you were out there doing something... you know... Wednesday-ish. And with Y/N? Are you kidding me? I thought for sure I was gonna get a text saying you’d been arrested. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Wednesday finally replied, “that I do not require your approval or your concern.”

Enid huffed, crossing her arms over her pink top, “Well, someone has to worry about you because you clearly don’t!” She paused, “Anyway... how was the date?”

Wednesday froze mid-step as she turned to face Enid. “Excuse me?”

“The date,” Enid said, emphasizing the word with a mischievous grin. “You know, you and Y/N, sneaking off together into the night, exchanging cryptic looks and intense vibes. Classic romance. Sooo... how did it go?”

Wednesday glared at her, the look sharp enough to cut glass. “It wasn’t a date, Enid. It was an interrogation. One that, I might add, yielded frustratingly little information.”

Enid flopped back onto her bed dramatically, groaning. “Ugh, you’re no fun. How can it not be a date? I mean, the two of you are so...” She gestured vaguely, her hands mimicking some kind of explosion. “...tension-y.”

“Tension-y is not a word,” Wednesday deadpanned, moving toward her wardrobe to retrieve her nightclothes. She disappeared behind the changing screen, her voice carrying through. “And whatever you imagine my interactions with Y/N to be, I assure you, they are nothing of the sort. It was just an exchange of information, nothing more.”

“You’re no fun. Fine, it wasn’t a date. But you can’t deny there’s something going on between you two. Totally intense. And you-”

“Enough, Enid,” Wednesday cut her off, climbing into bed. “If you insist on fantasizing about my personal life, at least do so silently. I require rest.”

Enid rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, fine. Goodnight, Wens. Sweet dreams of a certain someone.”

Wednesday groaned internally as she closed her eyes, letting the darkness of sleep swallow her. But even as her mind began to drift, she couldn’t help but replay your last words to her: “I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked over the students passing by. You should be here, she thought, where are you?

“You’re weirdly quiet this morning,” Enid noted, glancing at Wednesday as they approached their table with breakfast “Not that you’re usually a chatterbox, but still.”

“I was reflecting on the peaceful silence I enjoyed before you began speaking,” Wednesday replied dryly.

Enid rolled her eyes but let it slide. The two of them sat down, Enid immediately reaching for the stack of waffles in front of her.

“So,” Enid began between bites " I was thinking-"

"Truly a groundbreaking moment in history." Wednesday muttered.

“Ha ha,” Enid said sarcastically. “As I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and we need to form a team.”

Wednesday sipped her coffee, unimpressed. “You mean, you need to form a team. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid said, pouting. “Last year was so much fun, and we actually won! Don’t you want to keep the streak alive?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please?” Enid got out her puppy eyes.

Wednesday sighed, setting her cup down with more force than necessary. “Why don’t you find someone else? I have better things to do.”

“Well,” Enid said, fidgeting with her fork, “that’s the thing. One of the girls on our team transferred out after all the drama last year. So... we’re already down a person even if you join.”

“Tragic,” Wednesday said dryly.

"And everyone seems too afraid to participate, no one seems to come up... So I was actually thinking about asking Y/N to join too.”

Wednesday froze. Slowly, she turned to face Enid, her eyes narrowing. “You were planning to ask her?”

“Yeah,” Enid said brightly, oblivious to Wednesday’s sudden tension. “I mean, if she says yes, you and her in the same team? We will have the most unstoppable team in Nevermore history. And if she says no... well, I’ll just have to work extra hard to convince her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond, her mind preoccupied with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, she had no desire to participate in another Poe Cup. On the other, the idea of you aligning with Enid’s cheerful chaos—and possibly bonding with her—left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Finally, Enid broke the silence. “So? Are you in?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Fine. I’ll join your team. But only because your incessant whining is insufferable.”

Enid beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yes! You won’t regret it, Wens. We’re going to crush everyone. And when Y/N joins, it’ll be game over for the competition.”

Wednesday didn’t share Enid’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity. If you agreed to join the team, it would be yet another opportunity to observe you up close, to understand what makes you- you.

“Ready to lose, Addams?” Bianca asked, adjusting her grip.

“I don’t lose. I simply assess flaws in my opponents’ technique until they defeat themselves.” Wednesday replied, stepping into position.

Strike, parry, lunge—her movements were precise, calculated, and relentless. But even as she focused on the match, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Where are you?

You weren't at breakfast, You hadn’t appeared for fencing class. She told herself it was curiosity, maybe her need for a rematch, nothing more. But the faint pang of disappointment at not seeing you was a feeling she couldn’t entirely suppress.

Bianca’s blade grazed Wednesday’s shoulder, snapping her attention back to the match.

“Distracted today, Addams?” Bianca taunted, taking the advantage to press forward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t allow anyone, least of all Bianca, to expose a moment of weakness. With a swift disengage and a perfectly timed riposte, she scored a touch on Bianca’s chest, earning a point.

“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, her voice icy.

The match ended in her victory, as expected, but it felt hollow. Even as she returned her rapier to its rack and packed away her gear, her mind kept circling back to you.

Alchemy class had started precisely ten minutes ago. Wednesday sat at her station, her notebook open and pen poised, ready to absorb whatever instruction was given. Despite her usual attentiveness, her gaze kept flicking to the door.

It wasn’t until the teacher began explaining the chemical interactions of reagents in transmutation circles then you finally entered.

You walked in as if you owned the room. No apology, no explanation. Your footsteps were measured, calm, as though arriving late was entirely intentional. The other students turned to look, whispering to one another, but you ignored them all. And took the empty seat beside Wednesday.

She waited for you to offer some explanation, but none came.

Finally, she leaned slightly toward you, her voice low enough not to attract attention. “Where were you?”

Without even looking at her, you replied, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

The curt dismissal sent a flicker of irritation through her. She narrowed her eyes, studying your profile.

“Interesting,” Wednesday said, her tone flat but with a razor’s edge. “Your penchant for evasion is almost as impressive as your talent for making enemies.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of my every move. Should I start providing hourly updates?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t relevant,” Wednesday countered.

"I fail to see how my schedule has any bearing on your life.” you replied, turning your attention to the potion ingredients laid out in front of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around her pen.

After last night, she had thought they had... progressed, in some way. Not to friendship, she didn’t entertain such trivialities, but to something more than this cold indifference.

Evidently, she was wrong.

She turned her attention back to the professor, though her thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on you.

When class ended, Wednesday packed her things with more force than necessary. You, as usual, seemed unbothered, moving at your own unhurried pace.

She considered leaving without a word, but the thought of you dismissing her again was unbearable.

As the two of you exited the classroom, she matched your stride.

She didn’t speak immediately, her mind grappling with the questions swirling in her head.

Finally, she broke the silence. “About last night.”

“What about it?” you asked, not looking at her.

“I thought we had reached some… understanding,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

You finally turned to look at her, your eyes sharp and unyielding. “I told you what I’d tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her jaw tightened. “And the demonstration you promised?”

“I didn’t promise anything,” you said evenly. “I said I’d think about it.”

“And?” she pressed.

“I haven’t had time to think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive.

“You seemed to have plenty of time last night.” she said.

Your lips quirked slightly, not quite a smirk but close. “You think too highly of yourself if you believe I’ve spent the entire night pondering your request. And now that I do think about it, I don’t see why it matters. You’re not worth wasting my time.”

The words struck Wednesday harder than she expected. She kept her face impassive, but inside, a strange, unfamiliar ache bloomed. Her jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. She hated the way her chest ached, hated the vulnerability that threatened to surface.

But she would never let you see it.

“I see,” Wednesday said finally, her voice icy. “Then perhaps I shouldn’t waste any more of your valuable time.” Without waiting for a response, she quickened her pace, leaving you behind. Behind her, your steps slowed, and she resisted the urge to look back.

Botany class passed in a blur for Wednesday. The usually calming task of handling deadly poisonous plants gave no solace. Her mind churned with your words, replaying them over and over. She hated how much they stung, hated the power you seemed to wield over her thoughts.

And yet, when class ended, you approached her.

“Meet me behind the greenhouse,” you said, your voice low and deliberate. “After the sun falls.”

Before she could respond, you turned and walked away. She hated how you left her with more questions than answers. But despite herself, she knew she would meet you.

[A/n: Tried another new route, in most fics I see that it is the reader character who earns Wednesday's smile, so I thought I should reverse the roles a bit, how did you guys like this one?]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @masterofpuppets-10

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zepskies · 17 hours ago

Note

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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dismightyman · 1 day ago

Text

There was always a hesitance for Soap when it came to the more deeply personal aspects of Ghost. Even with how brazen he was when they started their partnership he wasn't stupid. As hot as it made him under the collar, that mask ghost wore was a bright neon sign that screamed Fuck Off.

More often than not he towed the line. Hell you could say he danced on it occasionally when the situation allowed, but when Ghost was well and truly shutting him out he knew when to let it go. It’s a source of great internal pride for him to be able to read Ghost well enough to push his buttons while avoiding pushing him to his breaking point.

As they got closer, there was a larger pool of tolerance for his specific flavor of boldness. The answers to semi-personal questions getting longer, less clipped. The dumb hypotheticals he’d toss out to fill the silence as they smoked were given more thought, instead of outright dismissals he used to get.

Then they fell in bed together for the first time and it was like a flood gate was opened.

The touches between them got more sure, more intentional. The tidbits that made up Ghost more readily found, and if he didn’t know any better, almost placed at his feet. Just begging to be picked up and stowed away in the little box in his chest that was solely for Ghost. To be seen, judged and found worthy of not just Ghost, but Simon himself was worth more to him than any medal or accolade could ever be.

It wasn’t just the getting to know Simon that truly made this something Soap cherished, but the fact that Simon seemed to enjoy getting to know him in return. The intentional work to learn what made him tick, what made Soap Johnny and vice versa. It solidified in his mind that this wasn’t just a fling, a rough romp in the barracks sheets every now and again. This in all its fucked up gory messy glory, was love.

Over the years he’s picked up on a few things that Simon does in his spare time. Not just for maintaining himself and his gear or staying sane, but for actual fun and pleasure. The biggest thing though was the models.

He told Soap once after a nightmare and a fucking freezing night smoking through an entire pack, that his favorite thing he ever got for Christmas one year was a little model train his mom had gotten him after his father had left the house.

“It was shite.” He said fondly. His eyes were settled somewhere on the horizon, far away and glassy.

“The wood was so brittle it snapped more often than it didn’t… and the paint, fucking don’t get me started on the paint…” the small barely there smile he wore as he described the way the cheap paint streaked on the toy made it into Soaps journal that very next day.

The next time he saw this side of Simon was the first time he’d stayed at his little flat in Manchester. They’d gotten leave together after an OP went slightly south leaving him with a concussion and Simon with a broken wrist. With a very pointed look from Price and a cheeky “Don’t have too much fun mate” from Gaz they were on a train headed north.

As they made their way up the stairs to his front door, Simon stopped.

“Before we go in there’s something I should probably mention…” Normally the eye black covered everything except his eyes. Since they were traveling as civilians Simon only had a black medical mask and a cap to cover himself. He apparently learned the hard way how nosey some people would be when he tried to walk the street in a skull balaclava. The blush that sat faintly high on his cheeks was a beautiful surprise and then some.

“Got a wee wife and bairn hidden away ere’ I don’ know about?” Soap said with a bit of a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

Johnny knew from the crinkles next to his eyes that he was smiling, Simon let out an overly dramatic sigh before speaking again.

“Piss off Mactavish, if anything you’re the wee wife…” he grumbled out, shifting slightly from one foot to the other before he continued.

“It’s just… I’ve never really… let anyone in here before and there’s…” he trails off looking anywhere but at Soap.

He grabs Simon’s good hand to get his eyes back on him.

“Unless ye got dead people hanging up to dry on yer ceiling, I doubt whatever yer dancing around is bad enough to turn me off of you” he starts with humor before taking a more serious tone.

“I’ve seen you open a man from navel to chin and grin while you do it… I’m more than gone on you Simon and nothin’ short of Hell freezin’ over is gonna change that” he says lowering his tone to a level that's just for them. “Honestly, probably not even that would do it” he finishes with a wink.

“Jesus Johnny…” Simon sighed in a surprised exhale, his blush deepening to a delightfully deep pink.

Without another word he turns, unlocks his flat and steps inside.

For the most part, in Jonny’s opinion anyway, it’s a fairly normal space for a single active duty man like Simon. There’s a kitchen to the left and a living room to the right with a hallway leading to what he can only assume is the bedroom. The furniture he can see looks old and mismatched, like he grabbed it all from a second hand shop. It's charming in its own way, nothing matches but it somehow all works. As he slips off his shoes by the door he’s mildly confused by the reaction out front, until he sees the wall on the other side of the living room, hidden by the little wall in the entryway.

As Simon stands sheepishly next to the display he gets a good look at frankly the largest collection of model trains he’s ever seen. From carpet to ceiling there are shelves loaded with tiny dioramas. However as he steps closer and gets a better look he realizes all of the trains are in some stage of destruction. Some torn in pieces, others on fire with tiny people inside panicking, there’s one, he realizes, that’s an almost spot on recreation of a blown out train they had tracked down and eventually killed an HVT in about a year ago.

After a long moment of soap simply absorbing everything, he turns to ghost standing stock still next to the wall. His eyes assessing, taking in every minor move or facial expression, waiting for some kind of negative reaction he’s sure.

Soap doesn’t let that stand for a minute longer.

“If I told you tha’ this is one of the hottest things I think I’ve ever seen would you believe me?” He’s probably laying it on a little thick but honestly it’s the truth. The level of detail, the time soap knows is required for something like this. The steady hand needed to get the tiniest lines painted straight. It’s a show of skill that he finds very very attractive.

“You’d have made a hell of a demo specialist if you hadn’t been so good with a blade, Jesus Simon how long this take you?” He breathes out, awe heavy in his voice. He steps closer to the wall taking in the finer details. On one shelf closer to eye level, there’s a train car mid crash held up by the thinnest of wire. It’s almost invisible if he hadn’t been looking so hard for it. The people inside are in varying states of being tossed around, upon closer inspection he can see little bloody hand prints on one of the windows.

“For all of it?” Simon asks stepping closer now that he’s determined soap isn’t taking the piss

“I don’t really keep time when I work on them… I’ve been making these since… well since I started wearing the mask” he’s slowly unwinding the tension out of his shoulders as he talks.

“Before I just did the regular trains you know, but after… everything it just didn't… feel right anymore, didn't give me the same release, didn't feel like me.” he paused every now and again seeming to look for the right words.

“Therapist suggested I change what I build to make it different like how I felt different.” he says with audible mirth

“Not sure this is what she meant but… it worked… so I just kept at it and…” he trails off with a gesture at the wall.

Soap takes a minute to let that sink in, remembering the bits and pieces Ghost has let slip. He's reminded of the conversation about his mother and it kinda clicks into place. This is Simon's way of connecting the two. The inherent violence of Ghost melding with the memory of who Simon used to be. After a moment Soap moves to wrap his arms around Simon. Gently taking his face in his hands to place a sweet little peck on his lips before pulling back.

“Thank you Simon, fer sharin’ this with me” he says so quietly it's damn near a whisper.

The real genuine smile Ghost grants him is one of the most beautiful things Soaps ever seen. The rest of that leave is spent with Ghost walking through every train disaster he’s ever modeled and them fucking in every room of the house so much so the neighbor comes over to complain about the noise. Twice.

After they get back Soap starts to pay more attention when he gets to hang out in Simon's room on base. He never clocked it before but after Ghost shows him his little model supply drawer, he notices that ghost is constantly collecting those little aluminum mint tins. The box Simon pulls out of the back of his closet is filled with the things. All of them contain little versions of natural disasters or in several notable exceptions, a terrorist attack or two. He explains to Soap that it's easier to keep them when they are moved from base to base when his whole collection fits in a 4x4 box. He finds out Price is Ghost’s main supplier of the tins, and the ensuing laps he runs in punishment are totally worth calling Price out for the old man he is. (Gaz had to join him in his laps after hearing this and laughing so hard he had to hold the wall for support)

Later on, when Simon brought him to that little cottage in the hills with several bottles of their respective poison, no one for miles, and a bomb made of legos and live class A explosives. An idea that had been percolating was solidified into action. It took a few favors from his sister and a frankly large hit to a few of his paychecks but he would be ready the next time they’d get to share leave.

Keeping his plan secret from Simon was harder than he thought it would be. Everytime he was lazing about in Simon's bed scribbling in his journal watching him so focused on his projects, he was so tempted to spill and tell him everything. But his opportunity came around sooner than he thought it would.

Price had announced after a successful round of back to back missions that the 141 had earned some R&R. Apparently there were enough happy parties in the upper brass that they felt the need to reward the taskforce for the good behavior. When the debrief was ending and everyone was piling out Soap leaned over to Ghost to offer his place up this time around. Ghost didn't need much persuading as two days later they were once again on the train north.

Soap only started to feel anxious as they were making their way up the foot path to the front door. In a comically similar way Soap stopped Simon before he put his keys in the lock.

“I have a little surprise for ye” he says with a nervous little grin.

“Do you have people hanging from your ceiling? Or is there a… how did you say it last time… A wee little family I don't know about Johnny?” Simon is smiling as he pokes fun at him from the last time they did this.

“You’d love that wouldn’ you, crazy bastard” Soap chuckles. “ No, nothing so devious, just a little something i've wanted to show ye for a while now”

Without waiting for Simon to respond he unlocks his door and pushes in, flicking on the lights. He makes his way into the front room knowing Simon is right on his six. When they are both fully in the room he steps to the side to let Simon see his surprise for the first time.

Placed right in front of the large window facing the street is a solid wooden work table. He’d looked for quite a while to find something that would match Ghost's height if he felt like standing and would be solid enough to last for years without wear and tear. Getting his sister to watch the house while it was delivered and get the thing put together was gonna cost him some serious sibling karma but it was well worth it.

Along the back of the table was a small shelf containing every single color of model paint he could get his hands on. He made sure to grab the brand he remembered Simon talking about loving to use but always passing on as he thought it was too expensive. He also made sure to get the brushes he noticed were used the most when he actually was around to watch Simon work.

Ghost was locked in place staring in disbelief at the station, Soap isn't sure he blinks for a solid minute and a half.

“Is this for me?” Ghost asks sounds ten years younger as he turns to look soap in the eye.

“Yeah Darlin’ course tha’s for you! If I drag you home with me I wan’ you to be able to do what makes you happy… I want this to feel like home for you too” it's said in a slight rush, like Soap is worried Simon might somehow misunderstand what this means to him.

Simon takes slow steps towards the table as he looks it over, running his hands on the smooth tops and feeling the sturdiness of it as he pushes on it slightly. He damn near picks up every bottle of paint to look at the colors before feeling the bristles on the brushes.

“Johnny” Simon says, it sounds a little croaky and Soap thinks hes fucked up majorly before Simon speaks again.

“I love you” he turns to face Soap, he’s not crying, there’s no tears, but he’s a little misty eyed.

“I love you so fucking much” he sets down the brush he was fiddling with as he takes quick steps to where johnny has been standing. The kiss he plants on Soap is deep and full of just about everything else Ghost didn’t say. When he finally lets him come up for air Soap chuckles.

“You like it?” Soap asks as he lightly scratches his fingers through the short hair at Simon nape.

“It's fuckin’ perfect Johnny” he says as he goes back in for another deep kiss. It's not until the next afternoon he actually gets to use any of it.

(this is for @leathfaic who inspired this mess, I wrote it all then read through it but that's about the max editing its gonna get so if you see a mistake fix it in your head and keep rolling. this is my first non OC fic writing so enjoy fellas, if i ever write again it'll be a miracle)

#ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #all this from me throwing legos to the ground at 4 am lads #sometimes we just stay winning

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bgwlsmahf25 · 1 day ago

Text

If She Could, She Would

natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: none?

genre: fluff

a/n: tried to stick to canon for this one! hopefully I got it right, just after winter soldier and the beginnings of age of ultron :) let me know if you want part 2!

It was extremely early, far too early to be getting out of bed. Wearily, you stumbled around your room, pulling on your uniform and finding your boots as the alarm kept blaring. Somewhere in the world, the Avengers were wanted in assistance and you were being pulled from sleep to monitor them.

Once you arrived in the corridors outside the science laboratories, you realised how big the situation was. It was chaos, people charging everywhere. Maria stood calmly directing people, a clipboard under one arm and a tablet balanced in her hand. She made eye contact and waved you over. Her hair was in a slicked back bun, yet strands of it were already falling out, framing her face. “Agent y/l/n.”

“Maria. What can I do?” You took a tablet from a passing agent and began swiping through the briefs as they appeared on your screen. Some were already assigned to other SHIELD agents, but most were blank. You watched your colleagues fill in their names on various briefs, taking them as they were directed by Maria and other SHIELD executives.

“For now, traffic monitoring. This place has been chaotic since the helicarriers went down. Romanoff’s been speaking to the Senate, they’re not convinced but we have them where we want them at the moment - in our eyesight. Fury’s dead, Rogers and Wilson are in Europe currently but just informed me they might need to head to Africa on a lead, not sure what is going on there.” You waited patiently, knowing Maria was speaking aloud to sort her thoughts out. “Stand here or go somewhere else with Internet reach, I don’t care where, and continue sending these briefs out. Chase anyone who isn’t assigned to something and give them something to do.”

“What will you do?” you said, already typing.

“I need to find Romanoff. If you see her, send her to me.” You nodded, but Maria was already walking off, speaking to agents as she went.

***

“I left for five minutes,” a strong voice said behind you. You looked around to see Natasha surveying the agents rushing about and the general chaos. “What happened?”

“I…” Then you realised she was teasing. After all, she had been present when Rogers and Wilson departed. “I thought you’d left?”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.” She nodded at an agent walking by and then looked at you with a firm, level gaze. “Besides, I need to talk to Maria before I disappear.”

“She went that way,” you pointed. “So the rumours are true.”

“What rumours would those be?” Natasha’s expression was unreadable, but you detected a flicker of sadness - no, wistfulness in her gaze.

“That you’re disappearing. Leaving SHIELD as it’s sinking.”

She didn’t reply, just kept on staring at you, and you realised she wasn’t going to answer. Natasha’s non-answers were answers in themselves. She rarely said more than she needed to, but you’d become accustomed to interpreting her body language. “Is that really how you see me?”

“No,” you replied, perhaps too quickly. “I see a woman who needs to step away from the spotlight.”

“Was I ever in it?” The question was more for her benefit rather than yours and you were left pondering your answer as Natasha walked off down the corridor, in search of Maria. You found yourself wondering about the redhead. Where would she go? What would be her mission now, or was she a free agent, able to choose her work as it suited her?

***

“...and I’m telling you, they’re valuable here. I need them where the action is, Natasha, surely you can appreciate the importance of that.”

“I could use their skills and knowledge in the field.” Natasha paused and sucked in a breath. “It would be helpful to have someone with decency towards SHIELD.”

“They have no heart towards SHIELD, they answer to me.”

“And what are you now, Maria? Nick’s gone, Steve and Sam are too, James Barnes is out there somewhere… HYDRA didn’t pack their bags once SHIELD collapsed. You know it and I know it. They’re the real enemy and right now, we’re at our weakest and they’re just gathering strength.”

“And how do you know that?” Maria sighed in frustration. “I don’t doubt your sources, Romanoff, you’ve got a good many of them out there. I just need to know that you’re not retreating forever. We might need your assistance very soon.”

“Then I’ll just have to be quick, won’t I?”

You stepped aside as Natasha left the room. She glanced at you, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and carried on walking down the corridor, head bowed and obviously deep in thought.

“Agent y/l/n, I know you’re there. Come on in.”

You took a deep breath and stepped into Maria’s office. Well, it used to be her office but as you glanced around, you realised that she was packing her things. “You’re leaving too?” The surprise in your tone was evident.

“Until we find somewhere better to be. I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m just leaving this room.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and typed something out on her tablet. You could see a string of messages coming in and realised that Maria had a life outside SHIELD too. “How much did you hear?”

“Nearly all of it,” you admitted. “Why does Romanoff need me?” You hesitated. “...It was me she talked about, wasn’t it?”

“And this is exactly why I need you here! You’re too damn useful, y/n.” Maria sighed. “SHIELD’s gone and it’s a free world, so I’ll give you the choice. Assist me in relocating and rebuilding SHIELD to a better standard and try not to get further mired down in the political devastation of this whole calamity. Or assist Romanoff with god knows what, though it’s likely to be dangerous and highly secretive, capering about over Europe and Africa and I think she mentioned something about Florida, though I can’t think why.”

“Dangerous and highly secretive sounds interesting and exciting but I’m more concerned with SHIELD rebuilding itself and going after HYDRA,” you admitted. “I’m an agent, but I wouldn’t consider myself a spy quite yet.”

“So you’ll stay?” Maria sounded surprised. “I thought you’d pick Natasha.”

“I’m not one to take sides, but I’m not someone who’ll abandon a sinking ship that easily.”

***

“You’re not who I thought you were.” Natasha eyed you shrewdly. “Staying to support Maria… are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

“I - I need to be here. It feels right,” you said awkwardly. “Maria’s given me control of your incoming traffic though, for decryption.”

“Hmm.” Natasha watched the constant movement of agents and goods around you. She obviously wanted to say more, but instead closed her mouth and shook her head. “Well… I’ll be in touch.”

“I know,” you replied simply. “And if you ever feel like taking a break, I hear Times Square is very nice. I go there on weekends.” You weren’t sure why you were telling Natasha about your favourite spot in the city, but you didn’t regret it.

“Interesting.” She smiled briefly then nodded. “Alright. Time Square. I’ll… consider it.

***

Time passed quickly. SHIELD was rebuilding and HYDRA was coming down, but it was all taking far longer than you or Maria had realised it would. Maria was now concerned with the ever-increasing workload that the SHIELD directorship generated and repeatedly found herself in executive board meetings and exasperating talks with Tony Stark.

The Avengers facility, or the compound as it was more familiarly known, was still under development yet already recognised as the new birthplace of SHIELD. You were slowly training yourself in espionage, still recording and monitoring Natasha’s traffic from her various exotic locales, and always taking a weekend trip to Times Square. A part of you deep down wanted her to show up, to tell you that she needed a break, but you knew she wouldn’t stop until HYDRA was eliminated.

Natasha was working on another mission and any correspondence addressed to ‘My dear friend Andre’ was being immediately sent to Maria without you decrypting it first. You had strong suspicions that before his death, Fury had given further orders to Natasha, and she was carrying them out posthumously according to his instructions.

Bruce Banner the scientist was showing up more and more often now, often deep in conversation with Tony Stark, and also often in the science laboratories at the compound, running various chemical substances and long lines of code, neither of which made any sense to you. Tony was often found talking to Maria as well, broadcasting the value of the Avengers Initiative to anyone who’d listen and slowly increasing his hold in the corporate aspects of SHIELD.

***

Natasha, I wish you were here. Tony is an insufferable bore, constantly talking about his own ideas and plans for SHIELD, and Maria is reaching the end of her tether. I don’t know why I’m talking about him anyway. I miss you

You crossed it out and sighed, crumpling the piece of paper and shredding it into smaller and smaller pieces before depositing them into separate litter bins as you walked through Times Square.

Even at the early hour, the square was busy, filled with tourists chattering and watching the ever-changing displays. You watched a fashion advert about a model you vaguely recognised, your mind a million miles from New York. You were imagining Natasha, crouched in a dark alleyway somewhere in Europe, hot on the heels of a shadowy assassin…

“It’s smaller than I imagined.”

You jumped out of your skin and looked around frantically, only calming down when you spotted the object of your thoughts watching you with an amused expression. Natasha looked healthy but you could see the worry lines on her face and the tiredness in her eyes. Her red hair was short and wavy, tied back in a ponytail and she looked casual in a pair of suit trousers and a leather jacket. You could see the faded red Converse you’d given her several Christmases ago, peeking out from the flared edge of the trousers.

“Your letter was nice,” she continued. “Maybe don’t call Stark a bore, you clearly haven’t talked to him.”

“He called me ‘somewhat pretty,’” you groaned. “The man’s on my blacklist whether he wants to be or not.” You stared at Natasha. “Why are you here? I mean, why now? I’ve been coming for weeks.”

“I know.”

“You know?” You stared at Natasha, realisation flooding your mind. “So you have been here before?! And I got led on a wild goose chase. Gee, thanks,” you muttered bitterly, turning and walking away across the square.

“Y/n, wait.” You stopped but didn’t turn around. “Please don’t leave. I - I needed to see you.”

“Me?” Her words had got your attention, just as she predicted. “Why?”

“You know why.” The fact you knew and she didn’t have to say it sent shivers down your spine. “You never left my thoughts. I kept wondering.”

“You did?” You smiled. Natasha cared for you and you cared for her. Did anything more need to be said?

***

You’d parted easily, and the spy had informed you that she would be back soon, once she’d finished a meeting.

Meanwhile you headed home, immediately suspicious once you found your front door opened far too easily. Had HYDRA found you?

On the table was a book with a red cover and black lettering: As If You Were Beside Me.

Don’t destroy this, I can’t make another. N

You smiled, recognising Natasha’s handwriting and opened the book. “Oh Nat…” She’d made you an album, a rare gesture and sign of weakness from the redhead, filled with plane tickets, movie stubs and photos.

You sat cross legged on your kitchen floor, the book balanced across your lap, and examined each page carefully and for increasing periods of time.

Natasha had documented some of her travels, as if you were there beside her. There were many slightly blurry photos, her camera held at arm’s length, her smile forced in some (she’d taken some pretty bad injuries and beatings and it made you wince).

There were receipts from places she’d eaten, decorated with little smiley faces and other curious doodles.

Finally, at the back of the book, Nat had written a longer message:

You have to know that you mean something to me. If you are half the person I know you to be, then you’ll have already figured that out. I don’t do a lot of things but I would with you. N

You wiped tears from your eyes, a strange deep ache tugging at your heart. Oh how you wished she was beside you right now! But you knew she had to announce her return to Maria and Tony, and she’d join you as soon as she could.

#fanfiction #fanfic #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #fluff fic #age of ultron #winter soldier

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vofriviasblog · 2 days ago

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Priority

SUMMARY - After Quidditch practice, Draco prefers to return to his beloved and spend time with her in the comfort of his private quarters rather than attending a party with his team.

AUTHORS NOTE - This is my first fic. I hope you enjoy it! Comments and reblogs are welcome!

Draco was exhausted after practice. As the captain, he decided with the team to increase the number of practices per week to prepare as best as possible for the upcoming match against their eternal rival, Gryffindor. Sweat cascaded down the Slytherin's face. All he dreamed of now was a shower and his beloved waiting for him in the prefect's quarters. Just the thought brought a wide smile to Draco's face.

He patted each team member on the back as a sign of thanks for their presence and commitment, then headed towards the castle. He hadn't gone far when his good friend Blaise Zabini appeared in his line of sight, panting as if he'd run a marathon.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?"

"To the castle?" he raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture, as if urging his friend to spit out what he had to say and leave him alone.

"Aren't you staying for the party? Mattheo got the best juices for drinks from the kitchen! Do you know how many nights it took us to find the house-elves' stash to get our hands on these wonders!?" Before Draco could answer, Blaise was already rushing with the answer. "The answer is too many. So you can't slip away now, you'll miss all the fun."

"Sounds pretty good. You deserve great respect for your perseverance in your mission, but I have to decline the invitation. I already have other plans that can't wait any longer."

"What?!?!?! Man, don't do this to me. This is the second time you've decided that the party isn't for you. What plans are more important than your buddies, hmm?" the dark-skinned boy looked at the blond with undisguised irritation, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Y/N is waiting in my quarters. I want to spend the evening with her," Draco couldn't help but smile as he said this, and just mentioning his beloved's name made his heart beat faster. Blaise, on the other hand, looked at the blond with his mouth agape as if he were an alien.

"Man, you're ditching us, your buddies, for a girl!?"

"Yes. Is that so strange?" Draco couldn't understand his friend's exaggerated reaction.

"Yes! That's exactly the same reason Nott used to decline the invitation. You're becoming terribly boring!" The blond rolled his eyes and replied, "You're such a kid. You'll understand me and Theo when you have a girlfriend. I heard Astoria doesn't like parties." This fact effectively shut Zabini up, who was ready to retort with a sharp comeback. All he did was widen his eyes and watch his friend until he disappeared behind the castle doors leading to the dormitories.

The sight that greeted Draco as he entered his prefect's room was the best balm for his sore muscles. His beloved lay comfortably on his bed, engrossed in a book about magical creatures. Draco had bought her this book a few days ago during a trip to Hogsmeade. The image of her sparkling eyes with happiness would stay with him for the rest of his days. He loved bringing her joy with such small things. This way, he wanted to convey that he thought of her every hour of the day and night.

Draco took a breath to calm his racing heart a bit, then walked lightly towards the bed. The sound of his footsteps pulled the girl out of the fictional world. At the sight of her boyfriend, Y/N smiled brightly, causing an equally wide smile on the blond's face.

"Hey."

"Good evening, beautiful," the girl's cheeks flushed at this term. She tried to hide her embarrassment by burying her face in the book. The boy's smile widened even more. He wouldn't trade this moment for any party. He lived for these moments filled with peace and love.

Without waiting any longer, he threw himself onto the bed with a thud, causing the girl there to squeal, completely unprepared for it. Like a snake, he wrapped his beloved in a tight embrace, as if he'd been waiting for this all day.

"Draco!!! You're all sweaty and dirty with soil. You'll ruin the sheets!"

"I don't care. I've waited too long to have you in my arms. No dirt or sweat can stop me from completing this task," the boy's serious tone elicited a peal of laughter.

"Sweetheart, you need to take a shower and change."

"No."

"Draco..."

"No," the boy, to further show his protest, tightened his embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You are going to take a shower right now, or I'll go back to my dormitory," the blond, with obvious reluctance and a look of a beaten dog, obeyed his girlfriend's command.

When he returned to the room, refreshed and dressed in more comfortable clothes, his face still bore the look of a martyr. Y/N, familiar with his antics, smiled at him innocently and opened her arms in an inviting gesture. The boy, with undisguised joy, jumped into her arms. As soon as he settled comfortably, Y/N's hands went to his hair. Draco practically purred with pleasure as his beloved played with his hair.

"How did practice go?"

"Pretty well. We're well prepared for the upcoming match."

"I'm very glad."

"Will you come to the match?" the boy looked at her pleadingly. He knew perfectly well that when he did this, his beloved couldn't refuse him.

"Of course, darling," she kissed his forehead, receiving in return a look full of gratitude and adoration. "I heard from Pansy that the Slytherins are having a party in the main dormitory," she got only a quiet "mhmm" from the boy, so she continued. "Don't you want to go?"

"Nope."

"But why? You'd spend some time with your friends."

"I'll pass. I'd much rather spend my time with you than drinking with that idiot Zabini. You, my dearest, are my priority. I will always choose you first, no matter what I'm offered," to emphasize the seriousness of his declaration, Draco propped himself up on his hands to level his face with hers. The boy placed a gentle, deep kiss on the girl's lips, leaving her breathless. Yes, this was definitely his favorite way to spend evenings.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #slytherin boys #draco malfoy imagine

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turtles-invoked · 3 days ago

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“How come you can’t fly?” Jack asks Castiel randomly one afternoon. Him, Jack, Dean, and Sam sit at the long table in the library, the brothers sharing a beer, Jack and Cas just happy to be in their company.

Well, maybe it wasn’t as random as it seemed. Jack was curious about The Apocalypse after Dean’s possession. They explained it all in as much detail as they could, Sam even offering as much as loosing his soul and how that affected him, and then how it affected Cas. Which lead to the Leviathan’s and then somehow they ended up talking about their time in Purgatory which naturally lead to Naomi’s control over Cas and then Metatron’s betrayal which leaves them where they’re up to now at the Great Fall… at least that’s what they’ve been calling it.

All eyes turn to Cas. The conversation comes to a halt at the somewhat intrusive question. An uncomfortable, bubbling feeling begins to roll and churn in his stomach as his face begins to heat up.

He opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam had begun to answer for him, “because he fell with the angels.” He says it as if it was obvious, but when he looks around and takes in Dean’s frown and Cas’ squinted eyes and slight head tilt to the left he starts to doubt himself, “…right?”

Cas completely forgot that Sam was particularly unwell at the time of the Great Fall. No one ever spoke about his lack of wings after he became human and they were a little busy when Cas finally got what little of his Grace was left. Of course Sam wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t even know it all, so how would Sam?

“No… I uh…” Cas started and looked around at all the faces watching him; Sam’s confused frown, Jack’s intrigued yet a little wary squint, and Dean’s sympathetic eyes.

“When I gave Metatron my grace…” he starts slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “naturally, I lost all of my powers, including my wings…”

“But you got it back?” Jack asks, still confused.

“Not all of it. What was left after the spell wasn’t enough to heal my body immediately.”

“But you said over time it will regenerate,” Jack argues.

“Correct, and it has, but-”

“Then you should be able to fly,” he says hopefully.

Cas shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. Jack was looking so hopeful at him that it almost felt worse to crush that than it did to admit what really happened.

“Theoretically, yes…” he starts and spares a glance at Dean. The brothers hadn’t said anything more since Cas begun his story and it unnerved him a little.

“Since I never technically fell with the rest of the angels, my Grace should have healed them… but there is more to it than that.”

“Wait a second-” Sam cuts in leaning forward in his seat, “you didn’t fall with the angels?”

“No, at the time I was already human.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s trying to piece together everything but nothing quite makes sense.

Jack interjects this time, frowning as he asks, “you gave Metatron your grace?”

“He was played,” Dean says simply, a tinge of frustration in his tone.

Cas sighs in agreement, “while Sam was attempting to close the gates of Hell, I thought I was sealing Heaven…”

“You were going to lock all the angels away? Including you?” Jack interjects again.

This time Cas’ eyes snap to Dean who was staring straight at him. His expression remained stoic and neutral but his eyes were a little bit wider, more attentive, desperate for the answer too. Of course he wasn’t going to leave Dean, but they had never had a chance to have that conversation.

“No,” Cas says sincerely, then turns his attention back to Jack, “No, I was- am unwelcome in Heaven. Though, I would have stayed on Earth regardless.”

“Jack, we’re getting off track,” Sam points out waving his hands to backtrack to the original plot.

“Right, yes. I was tracking Metatron when a couple of his followers found me. I was captured an-”

“Alone?” Jacks asks surprised.

“Yes.”

“As a human?”

“No. No we found Metatron previously and captured him, however, he knew where the rest of my grace was. I was… dying… and at the time Metatron was cuffed… we didn’t- I didn’t think he could escape. He was weak but he did, and I was trying to… find him when some of his very few remaining loyalties found me. I was still weak…” he trails off becoming nervous again.

“Wait- you had Metatron, but you let him go so you could get your grace back!?” Sam asks incredulously.

Dean slaps his arm to shut him up, but Cas can feel the frustrated anger in Sam’s stare.

“For what it’s worth, I did not agree. It was Hannah who insisted. I assumed wrongly that the cuffs could contain him,” Cas feels his face flush with frustration. He was starting to lose track of his story with all the interruptions and emotions beginning to swell in his chest.

“All of this could have been avoided!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, and Cas would be dead!” Dean interjects for the first time since Cas started talking.

“I would not have survived much longer without it, I am sorry to disappoint,” he replies curtly and returns his attention to Jack’s big pleading eyes.

“What happened when they found you?” Jack asks softly.

“He…” Cas swallows the lump in his throat before he continues, “… he bound and tortured me…” he looked at his intertwined hands, talking to the table. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the thumping in his ears as the blood rushed through his body, the embarrassment working its way through his veins.

“He cut into me with my own angel blade, but he soon realised I would not give up Sam and Dean very easily, so he…. Resorted to more… intense… measures…” Cas swallows again… his mouth beginning to dry, and his eyes burn ever so slightly. Visions of his shirt ripped opened and bloodied, flashed through his mind. He could feel the tight, pulling, bounding of his wrists as he was suspended from the ceiling, toes barely touching the ground; the stinging of each carve into his skin. He even remembers his relief when he thought they had given up, but the devastation as he realised what they had planned to do next.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about it…” Dean says carefully.

Cas shakes his head to try and push the memories away, “I thought when they stopped they had given up. But how wrong was I…”

He shifts in his seat, leaning back so he’s not so hunched over, his hands now in his lap, still clenched together.

“They sliced down my back… extracted my wings and-” Cas inhaled shakily before blowing it out, the corners of his eyes beginning to prickle.

“We get it,” Dean says softly. Cas looks up and meets his eyes. Dean offers a sympathetic smile while Jack looks like he may pass out. His face has paled a little, mouth hung open in disbelief,’“I didn’t think that was possible…”

“It was… excruciating. Had Hannah not found me when she did…” Cas looks sheepishly to Dean, “I would not have lasted long at all…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says in that same gentle tone.

“Cas- I-” Sam was at a loss for words, “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Cas replies a little too short.

“Have you tried to heal them?” Jack says quietly.

Cas gives him a flat smile, “yes. As well as Hannah and Gabriel. It appears they are damaged beyond repair…”

“May I try?”

All Cas can do is shake his head.

“Please let me try, Cas?”

At the same time as Dean says, “that’s enough,” Cas pushes his chair out and mumbles an, “excuse me,” not looking back at the table as he exits the room and heads for his own.

He can hear Jack and Dean arguing lightly with each other, but he pays it no more attention than he does the tears welling up in his eyes. When he approaches his room he shuts the door gently behind him and leans against it, sighing out deeply as the tears fall from his eyes freely.

He wipes them away and laughs to himself at his own humanity. ‘An angel crying,’ he thinks to himself. My, how far had he fallen indeed.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his self pity as well as a gentle soft call of his name, “Cas?” Cas could pick out Dean’s voice anywhere.

Cas wiped his face one more time before kicking off the door and opening it.

“You good?” Dean asks leaning against the frame.

Cas nods and tries to put on his best smile. But Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, looking straight through his facade.

Cas sighs and steps to the side to let him in, and shuts the door behind them.

He doesn’t have much in his room. His bed hasn’t been used in a couple of days, his few personal items are the books he’s snagged from the library to read while the boys sleep. Very bare compared to Dean’s.

Dean walks in and takes a seat at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his hands folded between his legs.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, hands clasped, and in his lap but he. Twiddles his thumbs, a nervous tick he developed as a human that he can’t get rid of of, “I-” but he doesn’t know what to say. Or where to start. Or how to explain it. Or if he even wants too. Because as soon as he starts to think about it again, the heaviness is back in his chest, and the warmth in his eyes returns, “-I can’t…”

He takes a moment to compose himself, to settle the heavy beating of his heart, and stares up at the ceiling. He takes a couple of breaths before looking over at Dean, his deep green eyes studying him, not judging, but observing, paying attention to every little move Cas makes. Cas looses his breath looking at him and how alluring his gaze is, so he focuses back on his hands and whispers, “I don’t believe this is something Jack can fix.”

“Why not let him try?”

“Would I be of more use to you if he succeeded?” Cas snaps before he could think and looks over to Dean again. The hurt in his eyes not gone unnoticed, but the pending answer in them tugged on his heart.

“It’s not about you being useful. It’s about you being you,” he replies in his defensive tone.

Cas sighs and looks back down to his hands. When he first lost his ability to fly it felt a lot like imprisonment. Human transportation is slow and tedious. Dean’s music and rambling did pass the time rather pleasantly, and he will admit that he does like his off key singing, enjoys it even, however it was no comparison to being able to “zap” places in a matter of milliseconds. The freedom to go anywhere in the universe at anytime whenever he wanted. Even after all these years, driving still makes him feel claustrophobic at times, something that will still probably take a while to get used to.

“Cas, you got to know you’re not here to be useful right?” Cas looks back up at him. The frown set in his brows mimicing the slight tinge of panic and worry in his voice.

Cas squints his eyes and frowns a little himself, “Of course I do,” and looks back down at his lap, “that was unfair of me to say, I apologise.”

“Good,” Dean says rather shortly.

“Besides,” Dean starts again, bumping their shoulders together, “I hated being zapped places anyways.”

Cas chuckles a little at his response, remembering Dean’s complaints of not being able to poop after they travelled together, or the uneasiness he felt in his stomach, or the one time his ear didn’t stop ringing for a whole day. Humans weren’t really designed for teleportation. But still, the weight of what he’s lost weighs heavily on his heart and mind. Always there in amongst the background noise. Deep down he knows he’s not kept around to be useful, but the guilt still lingers in the space between them whenever they have a long drive ahead, or rare ingredients to find for whatever spell they need.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What for?”

“For telling Metatron where to find you and Sam…”

“But you didn’t…”

Cas turns to him then, “but I would have. I almost had. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Cas-”

“No Dean. I think about that moment all too often. The pain is something I will never forget, but I would have never forgiven myself had something happened to you because of my wrong doings… again.”

Dean didn’t try to protest again. Instead he places his hand over Cas’. It wasn’t until then he realises how tightly he had clenched them together. He allowed himself to relax a little, the warmth and slight clamminess of Dean’s touch grounding him.

“Can I see?” Deans voice, barely above a whisper, breaks through their silence.

“What?” Cas asks, more shocked that Dean would even want to see his broken wings than he is that he asked at all.

A blush fills Dean’s face faintly as he pulls his hand away but in spite of his obvious embarrassment he asks again, “can I see them?”

“I… it’s- they’re not… visually appealing…” he says, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll be able to see them anyway…”

“So?” Dean asks, pleading green eyes begging Cas to fulfil his request.

Cas’s heart beat heavier and faster in his chest, his stomach turned a little making him feel slightly nauseated but he stood before he could talk himself out of it, because how could he deny Dean anything?

“Fine, but not here. I need more space…” and leads the way out of his room and down the hallway towards the garage.

“More space…?” He hears Dean mumble behind him.

Sam and Jack were no longer in the common areas, and for that he was thankful. Between Jack’s sympathetic need to help, and Sam’s guilt filled eyes, he’d rather not have to face either of them.

Cas opens the door to the garage and lets Dean in first. As he closes the door after him as Dean turns the lights on, but Cas immediately turns them back off, plunging the room into complete darkness, “dude?”

“No lights,” Cas says walking passed Dean towards the impala.

“Then how will you even se-”

Dean stops abruptly as Cas turns the headlights of the impala on, plunging the room into a soft yellow glow. He turns around to face him, still standing at the door.

Dean, after a moment of adjustment, makes his way over with a confused frown on his face, “oh, yeah, sure, we can’t use the free electricity, but yeah, let’s drain baby’s battery,” he mumbles under his breath, but Cas can hear it regardless of his volume.

“Humans cannot perceive an angels true form, as you already know, but you can see the shadows…” he starts, shrugging off his trench coat, folding it neatly and places it on the hood of the car.

“Shadows?” Dean asks, arms crossed while he watches Cas. He shrugs off his suit jacket and ignores the fluttering in his stomach as Dean’s eyes track his every move.

“Yes, Dean, you will only be able to see the shadows they create, not how they actually look,” he folds the jacket up neatly too and starts undoing his tie.

“Wait, Cas, hang on,” Dean says now standing in front of him, “are you-? I was asking about your scars…”

Cas freezes, stomach dropping, his fingers still on the knot of his tie, and looks into Dean’s eyes. A wave of embarrassment floods through him and warms his face and chest, definitely reddening.

“You were willing to show me your wings?” He asks incredulously, as if it’s the most sacred thing that Cas could do for him. And it kind of is. Exposing himself this willingly, and openly, is kind of intimate. He has never voluntarily showed anyone or any angel his wings without the intent of intimidating them. He imagines this is how humans would feel when they are perceived completely naked for the first time, excited but terrified all at once.

“I-” he tries to speak but his voice cracks, stopping him. How could he not have understood what Dean was asking of him? Does Dean even realise how profound it is for him to show him his wings? Would he even appreciate the weight of such an act?

“Cas,” he says breathlessly and my goodness does Cas love the way his name sounds that way, “Isn’t this… a big deal?”

Cas swallows the lump in his throat and continues undoing his tie, more so as something for his hands to do instead of standing still and awkward, “…yeah.” He says pulling the fabric from around his neck and rolls it up in his hands.

“You… are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to do this…” Dean says taking the tie out of his hands and leaning into his line of sight to catch his eyes.

Cas takes a breath and looks Dean up and down, “I trust you,” he says slowly and takes the folded tie back from Dean and places it with his other clothes, beginning to undo the buttons to his shirt.

He untucks the fabric from his pants to reach the last button and shrugs himself out of the sleeves, catching the way Dean averts his gaze when he notices Cas looking at him.

A slight flush fills Dean’s cheeks as he awkwardly runs his fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, “well… what do you need?”

Cas grabs him by the elbow and pulls Dean along to the front of the car, standing back to the hood between the headlights, “your patience.” Is all he says as he turns to walk towards the empty wall a few meters in front of the car, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he could walk away.

“Jesus, Cas,” is all he says and Cas can’t help but tense, knowing he’s looking at the pair of pink parallel scars that run down from just below his shoulder to half way down his back. From what Cas could see by looking in the bathroom mirror, they’re thick and viscous, and were nearly impossible to heal due to the angelicness of the wound.

Dean drops his grip on him and Cas takes it as his cue to continue on, so he does, ignoring the heat in his face and tingling where Dean held him.

He stands about a meter in front of the wall, just enough space for the shadows to appear higher than his body so Dean could actually see them, and kneels to the ground. He sits on his feet and place his hands on his thighs and hangs his head low, he doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he realises just how broken he really is.

So he closes his eyes and relaxes his upper body and summons his grace. He takes a moment to prepare himself before imagining his wings unfolding and extending wide, like a big stretch first thing in the morning.

His left wing opens easily, smoothly and wide. His right, however, cracks a little like the popping of the knuckles in his fingers, and pinches at the joint before expanding out. Cas only winces slightly as a shock of pain runs down the bone and into his shoulder blade as he stretches it out for the first time in months. A wave of instant relief washes over him as he lengthens them both wide and high and displays them for Dean.

A gasp in front of him has him squeezing his eyes shut and his stomach stirring. He knows they’re not pretty to look at. His right has no feathers left, just soft fur like skin covering the bone. It’s bent in the middle where the bone was forcefully snapped, and a couple of inches shorter at the end where Metatron’s followers had begun to amputate it. His left one, however, has a couple of feathers that have slowly begun to grow back along the tip of his wing, some long, some very short and some of them fluffy. Most of them fall out after a few weeks of growth, keeping their length short. Some have fallen out now as he’s opened them up, the floor to his left littered with white gold specs of a fur like substance, almost like dust, in the reflection of the lights.

The burning returns behind his eyelids and his heart stutters in his chest. Time feels like it moves far too slow as Cas kneels on the ground before Dean, as bare as an angel can be before a human. He keeps his head low and his eyes clenched until Dean whispers, “Castiel,” into the thickness of the air between them.

He can’t help but look up at Dean through his tear filled eyes at the echo of his full name on Dean’s lips. A name he hasn’t heard Dean call him since the angels fell. A name that, he’s been called for centuries, all of a sudden sounds foreign to his own ears.

But Dean’s eyes don’t meet his, they dart from his left to his right, taking in what little of his true from he can see. Wide, and curious, and beautiful green eyes sparkling in the refraction of light coming from Castiel’s grace.

He bows his head again and mutters low on his breath, “I did say they are not pleasing to observe.”

“No,” Dean says earnestly. Cas doesn’t lift his head when he hears Dean’s boots on the floor treading closer his way. Not even as Dean kneels on the floor in front of him. But two hands cup his cheeks ever so gently, as if he were made of glass, and slowly lifts his head up to meet his gaze. This close, Cas can see the blue of his own eyes shining back at him through Dean’s, bright and blue and…

“No, they’re beautiful,” Dean declares breathlessly.

Cas’s mouth opens slightly in astonishment as his eyes well up and his vision blurs softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers as the tears fall silently from Cas’s eyes, down his cheeks, and into the palm of Dean Winchester’s hands, “thank you,” he adds and the admiration in Dean’s voice makes it harder for Cas to keep himself together, as a soft sob escapes his lips.

Dean wipes away his eyes with the pads of his thumb before pulling his hands away to rest on his own thighs and Cas looses his breath at the sight of the righteous man on his knees before him; open, and authentic, and nothing but the purest of intentions.

“Dean…” Cas starts but doesn’t know what to say, or how to express his gratitude.

Dean shakes his head, “no, Cas. You don’t have to say anything,” he says in a low hushed tone, his eyes flicking back up to the broken one.

“…Does it… hurt?” He asks timidly.

Cas nods slowly, “A little…”

Dean nods at that and squints at the shadow, brows deepening ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Cas asks tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better read on him.

“No-nothing. I- I can kinda see ‘em,” he stutters still squinting.

Cas squirms a little under the scrutiny, “how do you mean…?”

“There’s a…” he pauses, perhaps trying to find the right words, “A-a shimmer? I guess? Kinda like.. looking through water…” he says pinching his eyes as if focusing too hard put strain on them.

Cas couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the man before him. Very rare is it that a human can see an angels true form. Even a slight peak at such a being will burn the eyes right out of their socket, melting the surrounding tissue and vessels. He’s not sure whether it has to do with Dean being the chosen vessel himself, or their profound bond, but a part of him isn’t even surprised at all that Dean can see that much. He wonders if maybe he could perceive more…

“Try and touch them?” Cas suggests quietly.

Dean gapes at him, “what?”

Cas blushes and adverts his gaze down to his hands, “I don’t know if you can… but you may try.”

He chances a look back up to Dean’s face, staring mesmerised back at him, “You sure?”

Cas can only nod his encouragement. He watches Dean process his request, the way he licks his lips before gulping and taking a deep breath as he glances up at Cas’ unharmed wing. And then ever so slowly, almost like if he moved too fast he would scare Cas away, he reaches his hand up. Cas doesn’t think anything would happen, maybe a slight ripple in the current, or a slight rush of wind as he passes through the ‘shimmer’ but when Dean’s fingertips graze the surface of delicate skin, Cas gasps. Dean’s pulls his hand back suddenly and almost like an electric shock running through his body, Cas squints his eyes closed as the most intense wave of pleasure coursed a through him. He clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, and steadies his breathing.

“Cas!” Dean calls out but to Cas it sounds distant and muffled. Dean calls for him again and Cas snaps his eyes open, Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee. He hadn’t noticed he had put his hands on him, and now his face is mere inches from his, “hey, what the hell, man?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs shaky and a little panicked, “I didn’t think anything would happen,” he admits sheepishly.

“Are you okay?” Dean pulls himself back but his eyes don’t leave his face, worried for what might happen if he looks away.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” Cas gives Dean a once over. He appears to be fine…

“Yeah, no, I’m good, I thought I hurt you…” he admits and Cas sighs in relief, glad no harm came to Dean.

“No, no it didn’t hurt…” he says, confused, remembering what he felt… “it was…” electric? Chilling? “…overwhelming…” he settles on.

Dean nods, still not entirely convinced.

“I would like for you to try again.”

“Oh- n-no, no way,” Dean says moving to stand, but Cas reaches out, his hand grabbing his thigh stopping him in his tracks, “Please,” but the sudden movement causes Cas’s wings to flow with the movement making him wince and grunt in pain, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, at the ache running down the right side of his body.

“Cas-”

“I’m okay. I just moved to quick,” he says slowly pulling back, Dean still watching his every move.

“Cas I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” he says assuredly sitting back up straight.

Dean still looks unconvinced though, his brows frowned in a deep, worried, line, jaw clenched, eyes wide and watching, “stop me if I do.” It’s not a question, but a demand. He’s telling him to stop him, knowing that if he asks, Cas would probably let him go on even if it hurts. So Cas nods his agreement and braces himself, trying to keep his body relaxed, expecting the sensations this time to come.

He keeps his eyes opened this time as Dean’s hand reaches out, trembling ever so slightly, and pauses right before he makes contact. They lock eyes and Cas can see the anxiety, plain as day, in Dean’s. He gives him the smallest upturn of his lips, encouraging him as gently as he can to continue. He hears Dean suck in a breath before ever so slowly reaching forward again until his fingertips, in a feather like touch, graze Cas’s skin ever so lightly. A feeling, almost like a tickle, dances on the skin where his fingers sit before it bolts like a shiver down his spine, soft but intense, new, and unfamiliar.

Cas shudders at the feeling, as Dean applies more pressure, still soft, still gentle, and strokes up just a little. Cas can feel the feathers pull and turn under Dean’s fingertips and it sends an almost feverish feeling down his wing and into his chest. Cas can’t help but gasp at the same time Dean exhales a, “woah.” His eyes begin to prick in the corners, and his breathing picks up pace as his grace begins to quiver, a slight tremor forming throughout his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as to not blind Dean by the bright white light glowing from within them, as a faint running softly echoes throughout the garage.

Dean pulls his hand back nervously, “hey,” he says softly, “what’s happening?”

“Sorry,” Cas whispers, tensing, trying to regain control over his grace before his reaction accelerates further gaining the attention of the other occupants of the bunker. His fists clench hard against his thighs, the muscles in his arms so tense they feel like they’re burning. He tries to focus on breathing but his body feels heavy, almost like he’s being crushed. The air feels thick, as if he’s underwater, though he can feel his body shaking, struggling to contain him. He mutters a few words of Enochian low to himself repeatedly in an attempt ground himself, but it’s not until Dean’s hands, one on his right shoulder, another on his left thigh just above his knee squeeze him gently that he can feel his body calming down, relaxing once again.

“Sorry,” Cas whispers again, his face warm and wet. He wipes at his cheek and looks at his hand, expecting a crimson streak of blood, but it’s just water, tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying… again. He had never done such a thing in front of Dean, or ever really, and now he’s up to number three for the day alone.

“What just happened?” Dean asks pulling back and giving Cas back his space.

Cas wipes his face dry and folds his wings back away, cringing again as his broken one collapses weakly into itself and tucks away. His timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the door to the garage swings open, and in storms Sam with an Angel Blade gripped firmly in his hand and Jack standing ready behind him, “what the hell was that?” He demands walking further into the garage, looking around. Cas’ stomach sinks with anxiety, and nervous disappointed that he had created enough of a disturbance to concern Sam and Jack.

Dean stands up then, leaving Cas still kneeling on the ground. He takes the opportunity to lean into his shadow, blocking the headlights from his view.

“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jack asks curiously taking in the sight of a half naked kneeling Cas in front of Dean.

“Nothing,” Dean says in his usual gruff macho tone that implied ‘none of your damn business’ as he steps to the side to block the boy’s view of Cas.

Sam raises his eyebrows at the sight of them, and what a sight that must be. It doesn’t help that Cas is flushed and a little out of breath either…

“Are we interrupting sex?” Jack asks amusedly, and honestly, Cas can’t even blame him for coming to the conclusion. That doesn’t stop him from leaning from behind Dean’s stance to frown at the kid, squinting his eyes slightly as if to say, ‘why would you even ask such a thing.’

Sam scoffs as Dean chokes and sputters for a response other than a defensive, “No.”

“Then what are you doing?” Sam asks chuckling amusedly, the same smirk still plastered on his face as he watches Dean squirm under his gaze.

Dean stammers for a response, clearly uncomfortable sharing with Sam what they were actually doing. Cas takes the opportunity to slowly stand from his position on the floor, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hands onto his pants. He waves his hands over his knees and within a matter of seconds, his pants are clean again.

“An exercise in trust,” Cas says walking to meet Dean at the hood of the car, reaching around behind him for his shirt.

“And the sounds just now?” Sam asks, body language becoming defensive.

“Me,” is all Cas offers up, shrugging his shirt back on and begins buttoning it. It’s mundane tasks such as this when he’d rather participate in the experience of doing it himself rather than using his powers.

Sam scoffs at his response, looking away from him, towards Jack, and shakes his head, “fine. Yeah. Okay. Good. Well just… we’ll leave you to it…”

Cas only feels slightly bad as Sam gestures for Jack to follow him, exiting the garage.

Jack looks between Cas and Dean, and smiles cheekily before waving them goodbye and following Sam out of the room.

Dean sighs in relief beside him and turns to face Cas, running a hand through his hair, “jeez, did you have to be so short with him?” He walks over to the door, leaving Cas still buttoning his top, and flicks the overhead lights on.

“Would you rather I have told him what we were doing?” Cas asks, tucking in his shirt to his pants when Dean rejoins him and turns the Impala’s lights off. He did not answer him, though Cas knew that he wouldn’t when he asked it.

Instead he deflects, “can’t you just mojo yourself back into those,” he asks handing Cas his tie.

“Thank you. I prefer the manual labour,” he wraps the tie around his neck, only a little confused on which way it’s supposed to face before the knot is tied, deciding that he doesn’t really care which way it faces, before tucking one side over the other and looping it through.

Dean huffs, and Cas knows he’s watching him mess up the knot. Suddenly aware of the eyes on him, he looses his focus and decides to undo it and mojo it on later.

“Dude, give it here,” he offers and gently swats Cas’ hands out of the way. Cas looks down at Dean’s hands, watching as he carefully measures the length of the fabric, pulling the thicker side down much further than Cas had it before crisscrossing them.

He lifts his head, looking up at Dean then, giving him a little more room at the collar to work with. This close, he could see everything so clearly, so perfectly. How long and fine his eyelashes are, how they perfectly dust the tops of his cheekbones as he focuses on the task at hand. He could see all the different shades of green that made up the iris of Dean’s beautiful eyes. All of the individual hairs that built the perfect stubble across Dean’s jaw. The slight dryness of Dean’s lips and all the fine lines and wrinkles in them. He could practically count all the freckles that glitter Dean’s face. Of course he’s familiar with every single one of them, but it’s still beautiful to be able to carefully examine them this closely. Beautiful. Dean had called him that earlier. And it had made his heart yearn for more, more of Dean, more of their connection, just… more.

Dean clears his throat then and a light flush of pink begins to spread across his cheeks and nose, as he taps Cas’ chest, signifying that he was done. Cas blinks out of his little daze and lookes down at the perfectly tied knot, “thank you.”

Dean smiles a little awkwardly and chuckles nervously taking a couple of steps back to lean against the side of his car.

Cas finishes dressing himself, shrugging on his jacket, followed by his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets and joins Dean, leaning against the frame next to him.

“So uh….” Dean starts, and chuckles nervously, cutting himself off.

Castiel remains silent next to him, allowing him the space to find the words on his own.

“How… what was it like?”

Cas glances at Dean beside him, face flushed, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the floor in front of them.

Cas smiles to himself and looks ahead, admiring the vintage cars in front of them, “good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs. He could practically feel the relief rolling off of Dean.

“So the…” he trails off waving one of his hands in front of him. Cas frowns at his hand, not really sure what he’s asking him but patiently waits for him to continue.

“The shaking… and the ringing…?”

“Yes,” Cas says and nods, looking at the ground in front of him. He feels his face and chest warm as the feelings rush back through him momentarily.

“No one has ever touched them before. It was quite sensitive… overstimulating, if you will.”

“So not painful?”

“No, not at all. Just… overwhelming.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.”

“It was.”

Silence falls between them, but neither of them move. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Dean looks around the garage, his eyes darting from one object to another, yet he makes no effort to move.

“Would you like some time alone?” He asks, not sure if he’s made Dean uncomfortable or not… He’s gotten pretty well at reading a situation but sometimes, in moments like these, he’s not sure what the appropriate social protocol is.

“No!” He says quickly followed by a nervous laugh, “ah… no. But I think I need to get out for a bit…” he admits pushing himself off the car.

“Come for a drive?” He says patting the roof of his car, leaving his arm resting along the frame, “she needs fuel, and we need snacks.”

Cas nods as Dean opens the door and folds himself in.

Cas takes a breath before pushing himself off and joining him in the vehicle as Dean turns the key and she rumbles to life.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types away at it whilst the garage opens. Once she’s finished, his shoves his phone back in his pocket and explains, “let Sam know, just in case,” and they make their way through the tunnel, down a few side streets and onto the open road.

With the windows down, whatever tape in the deck turned down low, and the comfortable silence between them, Cas doesn’t feel so trapped. The wind in his face and through his hair feels rather nice, refreshing even, cool against his flushed skin.

Dean beside him looks much more relaxed too, although, he usually always did when they were on the road. His fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door, half out the window. He looks at peace almost. And he drives like this the short distance to the fuel station.

Cas gets out of the car with Dean and leans against the side while Dean fills it, “I’m thinking jerky, popcorn, and pork rinds. What do you want?” Cas thinks about it for a moment… as a human he enjoyed the tastes of sweet foods, not the greesy stuff or salty stuff Dean liked. But now that he’s himself again, food doesn’t really taste the same… nor does it elicit the same emotional enjoyment… As a human he could ignore the individual molecules, but now it’s hard to get past it. However, their last movie night, the sweet popcorn Dean made him try was rather delicious.

“What was the popped corn we had when we watched the movie with the robots?”

Dean rolls his eyes at him and groans as he hangs the pup back up, “transformers, dude! And it was kettle korn, the caramel flavour I think. Is that what you want?”

“Please.”

They walk in together, Dean stuffing his arms with different flavoured jerkies and popcorn and chips. He makes Cas grab two soft drinks from the fridge and a no sugar flavoured water for Sam and at the counter he grabs a container of plum pie and a salad bowl.

Their items are handed back to them in one big bulging bag that thankfully doesn’t bust as they walk back to the car.

“Wait Cas, before we leave,” Dean stops him just before they part ways to get into the car.

Cas turns to him, curious, but a little worried seeing the frown on his face.

He digs through his pocket and dangles the keys between them, “I want you to drive.”

Cas’ mouth and stomach drops a little in surprise, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest. Dean barely lets Sam drive the impala, and now he’s handing him the keys.

“Dean,” Cas starts but he’s at a loss for words.

“Seriously. You shared something so… so big with me and I want to do the same for you,” his cheeks flush a soft shade of rosey pink at the admission and all Cas can do is stare at him gobsmacked.

“I mean… it’s not really the same thing… but this is all I have,” he says, beginning to backtrack, “and I trust you, too, Cas. I do. So please,” he jingles the keys and Cas reluctantly takes them.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all he says as Dean already walks to the passenger door.

Cas looks down at the silver keychain in his hand and looks back up at Dean who isn’t paying him any attention, or trying not to anyway. He nods to himself and takes his new place in the drivers seat, the weight of what this means to Dean not lost on him. Cas checks his mirrors, only having to adjust the rear view, and turns the key. The car rumbles to life once more, purring under Castiel’s hands. He grips the wheel tight and slowly rolls it out of the station, carful to angle it going down the drive so he doesn’t scrape it before slowly accelerating once on the road.

“You can loosen the death grip,” Dean chuckles from beside him.

Cas becomes aware of how tense he is and wipes his clammy hands, one by one, on his thighs. He adjust his grip and rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to loosen the anxiety in him.

“Sorry…”

“Why are you nervous?”

Cas glances over Dean’s way briefly, their eyes meeting for a slow second before he turns back to the road.

“I am not accustomed to driving and this is your prized possession,” he replies as if it answers all of Dean’s questions.

Dean chuckles softly again.

They pull at a red light and Cas is glad for the break. His hands had started to become sweaty and tight around the wheel again. He wipes them on his pants and returns them as the light flicks to green. As he takes off, a vehicle flies past in front of him, running the red. Cas gasps and slams on the breaks, Dean barely having enough time to brace himself against the dash as Cas narrowly stops in time before they are hit. Cas can’t move. There’s a vehicle behind him, honking, but Cas is struck still, his breathing heavy and hard in his lungs, body rigid.

“Cas, you gotta go buddy,” Dean says to him, but it’s muffled and distant. The car eventually drives around them, honking as they continue, but Cas still can’t move.

Dean gets out and walks around to his side, “shuffle over,” he says but Cas can’t move his hands from the wheel.

Dean reaches in front of him and puts it in park and nudges his shoulder, “move over,” he says again. He gently takes Cas’s hands off of the wheel which snaps Cas back into the moment. He clenches his fists a few times to loosen them up and slides into the passenger seat, his whole body hot and sweaty, uncomfortably so.

Dean drives them out of the intersection and pulls over after they’ve cleared it. He parks the car again and turns to Cas, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the wheel, “we’re okay.”

Cas nods into his lap as the embarrassed tears well in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he voices again.

Cas nods into his lap again as a hand gingerly cups his cheek, gently moving his head so he can look at him.

“You are okay.”

Cas takes in a deep breath then and blinks away the tears. He refuses to cry in front of Dean Winchester one more time today.

“You did everything right. I’m not mad. You saved us from a wreck. Okay?”

‘His first near miss,’ he thinks as he huffs out a breath.

“Okay?” Dean presses once more.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Do you want to keep driving?”

Cas immediately shakes his head, “no. No thank you.”

“That’s okay… but when you feel confident again, we can try again.”

“No thank you,” Cas says turning away to face the passenger window.

Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder before he turns back in his own seat and pulls them back onto the road, “yes. I have rebuilt this thing from the ground up more times than I can count. That back there, not your fault. And even if that dick did hit us, yes I would be pissed, but not at you. And I would have fixed it, okay. There’s been nothing wrong with my baby that I haven’t been able to fix, okay. So yes, maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I want to share this with you, okay.”

Cas looks over at Dean then. The sincerity in his voice tugging on his heart.

“Please don’t let this discourage you,” he adds as they share a brief moment of eye contact. All Cas can do is watch Dean. He can’t speak, at a loss for words once more, so he just watches him. Watches his relaxed form even after their near miss, one hand on the wheel, and the other reaches over, palm down in front of Cas. He looks down at it confused but opens both of his anyway, not really sure what Dean’s looking for. Cas looks back over to him as Dean looks over at their hands quickly and takes Cas’ left hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding on firmly. Cas does the same and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips, a new heaviness swells in his chest.

They drive the rest of the way home like this, Dean only using one hand to park the car back in the garage, and Cas couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily Dean could reverse park one handed. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand as he turns the car off, but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods, his heart still beating erratically at their intertwined hold, although the feeling is nothing compared to what Dean does next. He squeezes Cas’s hand once more and lifts his hand to his lips. Cas gasps softly as Dean closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss on the back of Cas’s hand.

Dean chuckles nervously as he releases Cas’s hand, “I bet Sam’s waiting on us,” he says low and hushed, neither of them making an effort to move, Cas not wanting their time alone to come to an end. He did forget that it was Sam’s turn to pick what movie they were watching tonight. He never did find his choices interesting, but it would be worth it to spend the evening next to Dean.

They share one last sweet smile before Dean sighs, “come on,” and they join the boys who were already sat in the Dean cave, just about to start the movie without them. Jack on a beanbag to the left of the TV, Sam in the arm chair next to him, leaving Dean to sit in the other arm chair, and Cas takes residence with a pillow to sit on in front of Dean and between his legs. Sometime through the movie, Cas leans his head back against the seat, Dean’s hands running through his hair. He shuts his eyes, and focuses on the sensations, his breathing becoming even, and all thoughts pushed to the back of his brain. And though he may not technically be asleep, it’s as close to it as an angel could get, blessed to be at the hands of Dean Winchester.

#this was much longer than I anticipated #I just couldn’t stop #no one stopped me #they want to kiss so bad #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #destiel #cas dean #dean x castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack #one shot

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 days ago

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So for new year cards...

Jack SSR is actually so cool; I like it. Malleus SSR is beautiful and all, but he really reminds me of a bride in forced marriage tropes. 😭

[Referencing the Twst JP Jan 2025 schedule!]

Finally, some good fucking food for Jack stans 😭 Port Fest feels like so long ago… fbjssbdjjs I feel like I can’t appreciate his design as much as others can. I’m not into the skintight undershirt on a character as buff as Jack is, and I'm confused as to why his gloves are... like that??? But!! I do like his fluffly little boa thing and how enthusiastic his pose is. You can tell he’s really putting his all into the New Year Sale~!

Malleus got another new hairstyle (any hairstyle that's different than his default one is a win in my book www)!! I think it's a well-liked look among his fans; I already saw so many people commenting that he looks like a love interest in a reborn as a villainess isekai or something to that effect.

I also saw some chatter around the thin fabric that Malleus seems to have over himself. A common joke is that it's a "wedding veil", but given the traditional Japanese clothes everyone is wearing for the new year, it's more likely also a Japanese article of clothing. A friend theorized that it's a 被衣 (kazuki/katsugi), a garment worn over the head that fully covers the body. These are mostly donned by noblewomen to cover their faces when they go out--and that sort of makes sense, given that Malleus himself is a noble. How demure and mindful... I thought the veil could also be a frost blanket (you know, to protect the budding flowers from the cold)?? But I'm not entirely sure right now; maybe the vignettes will give us more context!

A friend and I were speculating as to what flowers might be featured in the initial card art and the conclusion we came to was ume (plum) blossoms. The color and shape are similar, and they're a classic flower in winter anime. Something else I noticed was that the same flowers seem to appear in Sebek's New Year Attire from two years ago! If you compare Malleus and Sebek, you'll notice that the lighting is much warmer in Sebek's too. In fact, all previous SSR cards are pretty much like that, save for maybe Trey but at least Trey is shown to be in front of the shop. It really makes Malleus's card "stick out", since he's the only one that appears to be in a lonely and isolated location, just him and the plum blossoms.

On the subject of clothing worn by Japanese women! The same friend and I talked about Jamil's New Year Attire too. (Figured I'd throw this in here since I'm already talking about the other three 2025 New Year boys. Don't wanna leave him out, y'know??)

You can see that he has his hood up in the initial card artwork; my friend joked that Jamil's a newlywed. Why? Brides that choose to dress traditionally for their wedding days wear a wide white headdress/hood called a 角隠し (tsunokakushi), which covers an elaborate hairstyle like Jamils'/j. The "tsuno" (horns, as I'm sure you're all familiar with) in the name refers to the "horns of jealousy"; the tsunokakushi is meant to blanket the jealousy so she can enter her new married life at peace.

Of course, the shape, color, and context of the tsunokakushi is very different than what Jamil's got going on and the Twst team most likely did not intend for this comparison to be drawn, but I thought that this was interesting to share ^^ (*feeds Jamuil yumes this delulu cultural trivia*)

Aaaand let's close out with Floyd! The answer to his question is simple, actually. To put one's arm inside the kimono is just a very casual or relaxed way to pose. It suits Floyd and his attitude, doesn't it?

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #Malleus Draconia #Jamil Viper #Floyd Leech #Jack Howl #jp spoilers #notes from the writing raven #yes that friend I talked with is a Jamil yume and I dedicate that section of this post to them #question #Sebek Zigvolt #Trey Clover

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pauli-writes · 3 days ago

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ever since 2.7 the sunday short(s) you made live rent free in my head.... how would reader react to him joining the ae after all of that 😣😣

warning: idk what to write here, themes of trauma and healing?

pairing: sunday x reader

author‘s note: thank u anon for waking me up from my hiatus with this. i was so creatively drained, but this request gave me new life. im probably gonna do all of the event stuff in the new year, so you can still request on that if you want. also happy belated holidays to all of you!

part i ☆ part ii

“no.”

“but reader-“

“i said no. i don’t want him here.”

march 7th and the trailblazer were looking at you with wide eyes, while welt, himeko and dan heng were a little more understanding to your seemingly drastic reaction to the newcomer of the astral express, who at the moment was standing awkwardly a little further away from the group.

“maybe we should talk about this in private?” dan heng suggested, but you only brushed him off.

“there is nothing to talk about. you asked me a question and i gave you an answer, i’m sorry if it doesn’t satisfy you.” with that you left the parlour car, the door closing shut behind you with a heavy thud. there was a tense silence that followed as the remaining members of the astral express exchanged worried glances.

himeko was the first to speak. “they’ll come around. this is just a lot for them.”

“himeko is right,” welt added calmly, “they’ll talk when they’re ready.”

later that day you were ghosting around the party car, unable to fall asleep. you supposed a snack and something to drink would do the trick. the earlier encounter was still heavy in your mind, replaying over and over again like a broken cassette tape. you know you were being mean and unreasonable, but you were just too overwhelmed with emotion to think reasonably.

as you got your drink and snack from shush, you turned to walk back to your room only to find sunday, staring out the window. the sight stirred something in you, a strange feeling of nostalgia, melancholy and hurt all mixed into one. you wanted to walk away, return to your room and never speak of this again, but just in that split second he turned his head and the two of you locked eyes for a split second, before he turned back toward the window. a moment of silence passed between the two of you, before he spoke up.

“the view is beautiful…” his voice was subdued, almost sad as he spoke, a stark contrast to the assured way he talked previously.

“i suppose it is…” you replied awkwardly, “i haven’t payed attention in a while.”

another stretch of silence passed between the two of you. you pondered if you should just leave, avoid the awkwardness, but before you could walk away he spoke up again.

“i apologise for any distress i caused you with my request to join the express. that was never my intention.” he turned away from the window and looked at you properly. you could see his expression, it was different that before, he looked sadder, remorseful even. this was a different sunday, that much was clear to you now.

you sighed and avoided his gaze uncomfortably, “you never mean to, but you still do it…”

sunday’s face fell at your words as a slight realisation fell upon him, he let out a small humourless laugh. “of course, i owe you an apology for that too…” he said mostly to himself, before clearing his throat and properly addressing you. “i see now that my actions were selfish. keeping you inside, wasn’t for you, it was for me… i know this apology doesn’t make up for what did, but i hope it makes traveling with me… easier.”

you looked to the ground silently. your emotions were all over the place at the moment. his apology didn’t help. there was a time were you hated him, but as you distanced yourself from what happened and looked back, you knew that sunday wasn’t solely responsible for what happened, his environment, the people around him, shaped him into that person. so, couldn’t blame him entirely anymore.

you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “i don’t what to feel anymore… the astral express was the first place where I was free to do as i please, it’s my home… somehow it feels wrong having you here.” you paused for a moment, looking for the right words, “but my reaction earlier was harsh, i can see you’re making an attempt to redeem yourself and that’s… comforting. i just need time and space to… to process everything.”

sunday looked at you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “of course, i understand. thing like that take time.”

for the first time that day you smiled, only a little, but a smile all the same. sunday couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile, but he was glad to see that again. “thank you… well, i’m off to bed then. good night.”

he straightened himself and nodded, returning the small smile. “good night, reader.”

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail #hsr x y/n #hsr sunday #sunday x reader

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cry4mina · 18 hours ago

Text

Untied

Domme!Mina x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7.7k

Smut/a little bit of everything I guess

Summary: Mina surprises you with the mentions of a dynamic change. This is how that plays out.

TW: This is truly just filth. Degrading, straps, choking, spitting, cum swapping, aggressive at some parts, food mentioned lemme know if i missed anything.

A/N: hi i hate this and it took forever 😭😭 Thanks to @psylocke142 @nr1chaedickrider @sscieloz and @ghostykapi for always keeping me sane and listening to me yap about this cuz good lord this was a time.

i hope you all had a great holiday! I’m going to re-write TMBTE 1-3 now. Sorry if this is ass, I barely edited it. Thanks for reading🖤

“Y/n, do you think we could talk for a second?” was the last thing you expected to hear on a lazy Sunday morning. The calmness of the world still sleeping around you couldn’t have prepared you for a sentence like that.

“Yes, of course.” turning over on your side to face Mina’s sleep filled eyes, concern on your face as you wait for her to say something or give you some form of hint on what this could be about.

It was barely 9am, you were both in just your underwear, the most you had said to each other was a “Good morning,” hell, you barely even got that out. No coffee, no breakfast, just a “hey, can we talk?” which made you more anxious than any amount of caffeine ever could.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” She giggles, scooting closer to you. Nuzzling her face into your chest as an act of comfort.

“You know how we have developed a certain…dynamic…in the bedroom?” sheepishly leaves her perfectly shaped lips, a glint of the timid breaks through the courageousness of the question.

“Me being a top and you being a bottom?” you joke back to her, eyebrows raised and nudge her a little with a smirk.

You and Mina had only been together for a few months, everything was still very new and there were certain roles that hadn’t been hashed out yet. Already having had thought about the roles you would play in the relationship and curiosities about how things would settle - this sparks more wonder.

“Hey!” Mina playfully smacks your shoulder, giggling with you.

“Okay, so what I wanted to talk to you about is…I’m actually not a bottom.”

Oh?

“In my last relationship…I was a top…a domme, specifically.”

A beat of silence as you take in what she just said.

“You?…A domme?”

“Mhm” biting her lip subtly in anticipation of what you would say, flickering in her eyes try to predict your reaction.

The confusion that creeps its way onto your brow makes her chuckle, she watches as it drips off your face.

There is worry wrapped in the giggle she lets out, you respond before she can let that stressor grow.

“You are a domme? Really?” unable to comprehend as she never had any indicators that she would be dominant…at all.

Mina? The soft, shy, reserved person you have come to really like being around…a domme?

In most situations you’ve experienced in these few months, she would look to you for everything. Seemingly submissive in all aspects…

“I can be anything you want me to be. I’m open to whatever you’d like…but I’d love to experience you submissive, baby.” bringing her hand up to trace your lips softly, watching her own finger trail around, look of desire reflected in her eyes.

“Would you want to explore that side of things with me?” another shy ask whispered through the timid surface.

“I’d love to.” answering without hesitating, kissing her forehead and pulling her a little closer.

“Really?” she beams up at you, the excitement in her eyes sends warm waves of desire running through you.

You just nod your head at her, still very much shocked at what she’s said but how “domme” could she really be?

Mina lays a soft but passionate kiss on your lips as she koalas herself around you, a cute little quirk she had picked up, wrapping her legs around your torso and clinging to you.

“Do you still want me to make you some French toast for breakfast, honey?” You chuckle through the grip of the full body hug you were experiencing.

“I’d rather eat you instead, but breakfast does sound lovely.” rolls off her tongue before she tilts her head up and lightly nips at your neck.

Audacious was an understatement. Mina had never said anything like this before. She was reactive to the way you’d speak to her in bed, but she had never initiated dirty talk in the slightest.

Vanilla had been the flavor of the type of intimacy you had been having, it was all so new that exploring each others body’s was all you had really done, aside from you having the control, so to hear her say something so suggestive really took you by surprise.

The pulse felt between your legs was loud, even to Mina who had wedged her leg between yours, could feel the bass line of your heart as she pushed her thigh up against your pussy and cupped your face with her hands.

“I can feel how wet you are through your panties, baby. Don’t worry, we will have time to address that later.” seductively whispered into your ear before she kisses you passionately, nipping at your lips to keep the thought in your head.

A whimper leaves your mouth without permission, already enjoying this look into what was to come. Holding her tight to keep her in place, you deepen the kiss even more. A smirk and giggle in response, pulling away right as you start grinding against her thigh.

“You owe me breakfast! Don’t try to get out of that!” playfulness sings through the sentence as you try and convince her with your body language to stay put, not moving an inch and whining to her.

She doesn’t react to your signs, rolling out of bed, going into your closet and grabbing one of your t-shirts to wear.

She looks so cute in your clothes.

Bringing you a shirt, she sits down on the edge of the bed and tosses it to you.

“Come on, let’s go!” She tugs on your wrist, trying to get you to get up.

“But Miiiiiinaaaaaaaauuuuhhhhhhhhh, it’s so early still and…maybe I’m curious.” the implication very blatant in your statement.

“Be curious then, baby.” winking and making her way to the door.

Mina leans on the frame seductively, waiting for you to get up. Instead, you pat the sheets- inviting her back to them.

There’s a switch flipped, something changed. Her eyes darken- she seems…more stoic?

“Fine.” the sharpness of her stare makes your breath hitch, the side you’ve never seen rearing its head to expose itself to you.

She blows you a kiss and sets off for the kitchen.

“Babe! Come back!”

Silence.

“Mina!”

More silence.

“Alriiiiiiight” sighing as you get out of bed, not bothering to put the shirt she pulled out for you on and heading towards the kitchen.

Hearing the clinking of dishes and the faucet turn on, you make your way into her view. Mina’s eyes widen when she sees your chest is out and exposed to her, swallowing as you walk towards her.

She was trying to get the coffee started but you shirtless in front of her caused her focus to shift.

“It’s a shame you didn’t mark me up last night, Madam Top!” Placing your hands on her hips, leaning into her and letting your tits rub against the shirt she was wearing.

“I think I’d look just lovely with your bite marks on me.” you reach over the side of her on your tip toes to grab the loaf of bread on top of the fridge, tempting her - never breaking eye contact while you stretch.

“Don’t you?” Winking as you reposition yourself, face to face with her.

Placing a hand gently on her waist, you maneuver her out of the way of the fridge, guiding her to the right of it while being a mere inch from her face before taking a step back and cracking open the door.

“…are you…teasing me?” stunned Mina’s whisper hits your ears as you grab the carton of eggs and close the door.

“Maybe.” Standing and facing her, two thirds of the ingredients in your hands.

“Is it working?” Setting the bread and eggs on the counter to grab the cinnamon out of the cabinet next to her.

“No!- I mean…no.” Catching an attitude as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet and starts fiddling with the coffee maker.

“You sure about that, baby?” The sultry tone you take with her is one she’s familiar with, usually used when you’re on top of her but it will work for provoking her too.

You grab a bowl and starting to crack the eggs and catch a glimpse of her reddened cheeks. Mina shakes out the thoughts and stands her ground.

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, the more you do…whatever this is…” Gesturing at you before looking you up and down again.

“…The worse it’ll be.”

“…Worse?” questioning as you start whisking the eggs together.

“Yes….Worse.” crossing her arms and taking that stern tone again.

An ache is created between your legs when her rigid words radiates through your ears. Something about her like this is just so sexy to you.

“Don’t you want it to be worse, Ms. Dominatrix?” playfully mocking her allegedly title and role she was taking on.

All in good fun or so you thought.

Seeing her in get an idea in your peripherals, the lightbulb over her head shined all too bright giving you the indication that maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so many of her buttons.

“Hmph…This is very interesting to witness.” taking a few steps towards you, watching you mix the cinnamon sugar into the eggs.

“I don’t think I was expecting you to be such a brat.” placing her right hand on your lower back, raising her left hand to harshly pinch your nipple.

The hand on your back keeping you from moving, you suck in air between your teeth, practically hissing as she tugs and twists aggressively - you attempt to keep cooking, unraveling the bread and grabbing a few pieces to soak in the egg mixture.

“Awh, did I make it worse?” Sarcasm weaved into the statement.

“….I know what makes you tick, baby. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Mina pouts up at you, trying to get you to submit to her with puppy dog eyes and lower register.

This makes you even wetter, feeling your slick accumulate and drip down your thigh- you aren’t really sure how to navigate this corner you backed yourself into. What was originally meant to be silly teasing turned into something else completely.

On one hand, you want to push Mina to see how dominant she could really be, and on the other hand…hearing her ask if you wanted to be a good girl made you want to give her anything and everything she could ever want.

Noticing your hesitation, she grins.

Placing 2 pieces of french toast into the pan, you focus on the sound of the sizzle and try to bring yourself down a little, trying to lower the level of neediness that your body was screaming at you with.

“Oh? Did you like that?” eyebrows cocked and evil smirk across her face.

Shit.

“Like what?” playing stupid but you know it’s not going to work.

“When I asked you to be a good girl for me? Seems like that might’ve…” her finger traces up under your jaw turning your head towards her over to face her.

“…done something for you.” Mina kisses your lips, trailing her finger up your torso and over your already hard and sensitive nipple ever so gently, causing a fire to erupt inside you - letting a weighted huff out as she removes her touch from you.

She stays close to your face, letting you feel the tension that’s building between the two of you and then goes back to making coffee, without another word.

Blinking a few times, you’re completely stunned at the flip that Mina has presented you with.

“You okay?” scooting a mug of hot coffee made just how you like it over to you.

“Mhm.” pulling another piece of bread out of the bowl and tossing it into the hot pan, the sound of the sizzle brings you back to reality, the cracking of the slime solidifying on the bread and turning into breakfast makes your stomach growl, pushing the sexual thoughts of Mina to the back of your mind.

—

Eating breakfast was slow and tantalizing, not even bothering to put on a shirt while you ate. The distraction of what Mina was saying while you were cooking was causing a knot to build in your stomach.

Mina couldn’t keep her eyes off you and you were very aware of this. The tension was there…she just needed to make the move.

Leaning into the teasing every moment you had, making sure you never so much as let your arms block her view of your chest and moaning at every bite.

By the time she was finished, she was crossing her legs exceptionally hard and glaring at you.

“I should probably get ready.” Mina sighs as she stands and brings her plate to the sink.

“What time is the lesson?” Stretching back in your chair to make sure she had a good view.

“12 to 4” flicking on the faucet to rinse her plate off, the aggression in the way she flips the handle up makes you smirk.

“Want me to come? I can also just drop you off there if you’d prefer.”

The offer makes Mina stop in her tracks. Her eyes reflect pondering as she turns around to face you, back against the counter with her arms crossed.

“Will you wear a shirt?” Eyebrow raised at you as if she’s poking back.

“Maybe” winking as you stand to make your way to the sink.

“…maybe? Gonna show what’s *mine* to everyone at the studio?” The tone she took when she revealed this moment of possession was…sexy.

“What’s *yours*?” you rinse your plate off, stacking it on hers in the sink, and turn to face her to see her arms are crossed and she’s got a bothered look on her face.

Before she could reply, you place one hand on either side of her, trapping her against the counter.

Mina turns her head, not looking at your attempts to seduce her. Feeling your chest against hers, you slip your hands under her arms to unfold them and wiggle into them so they’re wrapped around you.

Her jaw clenches, watching it flex makes you weak in the knees.

“Baby.”

Mina side eyes you, waiting for whatever it is you’re about to say while your slip your hands under the oversized shirt she was wearing - placing them gently on her lower back and giving her light scratches with your nails until she faces you.

“If I belong to you like you say I do, then why haven’t you put me in my place yet?” Lips ghosting across each others as you taunt her further.

Grip turning harsh, Mina flips you around before you even realize what’s happening, back pressed against her chest and one arm around your waist locking you in.

“You want me to put you in your place?” whispered in your ear as her free hand creeps up to your neck.

“Is that what you want, slut?” Fingers wrapping around your throat and squeezing lightly.

“Maybe” reveals itself from your attempt to keep your cool, arching your back to your ass grinds against her to see if she would actually do anything.

“Of course that’s what you fucking want.” Mina lets go of your neck and coasts her hand down your torso until she’s at the waistband of the only thing you’re wearing.

Slipping her fingers beneath the band causing you to gasp and lean into her harder, asking for more even if you’re vocally defiant to her.

A heavy chuckle in your ear as she slides her fingers around the elastic until they she reaches your back.

“This is what you want, right?” Tugging them down while she speaks.

“You just want to push me to see what happens, right?” Your panties hitting the floor as the hand she had around your waist pulls you around her with your stomach against the cool counter.

She’s still pressed against you, not letting you move a single inch without her as she pushes you down on the cold marble countertops.

You can’t help but clench around nothing.

Roughness suits her well.

“Awh, look at you.” Her chin pressed into your shoulder as her hand slithers down between your legs, lightly trailing your slit.

“I knew you’d like this side of me.” Lifting her face so her lips can dance across your back before she lays a light bite down on your shoulder.

Whining at her touch, unable to help yourself from rocking your hips against her fingers- she keeps the pressure feather light, despite your attempts for more.

You’re absolutely distraught in how much you crave her.

A need so instinctual that you feel like you can’t focus on anything else.

“Mina…please!” Huffed out as you raise and drop your hips again , trying to get more friction from her.

“No.” Lifting her hand away from you.

You can hear her sucking your slick off her finger.

Not letting you move, you whimper again.

“Behave today while I teach my class…and I’ll think about letting you experience more of this tonight. Do you understand?” Stern in tone, you’re dripping for her like this.

Your need for her grows with every second and she shows no signs of giving in.

“Ugh, Mina!” Struggling to flip around when her hand grips your hair and forces your face onto the counter gently enough to not hurt but hard enough to show you who was in charge.

“I said…do you understand?” Between clenched teeth.

Fuck fuck fuck, she’s so fucking sexy like this.

“Yes…” breathed out without question.

“Good. Now get ready. We need to leave soon.” Planting a kiss to your spine and releasing you.

You’re quick to turn around and look at her. Wanting to take in the fierce look in her eyes. Knees like jelly as she winks and heads off to your bedroom, leaving you leaning against the counter trying to catch your breath and pull yourself together.

—

On the way to the ballet studio you managed to keep it together, Mina was tying her hair up in the passenger seat while you hum the tune playing softly on the radio, following the GPS that she put on her phone even though you didn’t need it.

A side eye and a soft smile from the seat over refract what little light broke through the overcast sky into the car. You pretend not to notice the way she beams at you.

“You want to know something?” offered to you while Mina applies mascara carefully to her eye lashes as you pull up to the studio.

“Hmm?” putting the car in park and undoing your seat belt.

“I love you.”

Mina’s eyes widen when she realizes what she’s spoken out loud to you, frozen in surprise at her own words.

She acts quickly.

“I..uhm…uh….okay, gotta go to class.” panicked in her movements, she leaps out of the car.

“Wow! Wait wait wait!” Matching her speed in jumping out and locking the door behind you.

Grabbing her hand, you tug her back into you.

“Ms. Myoui…” tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and watching as her cheeks flush into a beautiful rose.

“Say it again for me, darling.” The smile on your face can’t be contained in the slightest.

“…I love you…” regulated breaths rhythmically leave her as she tries to keep her composure.

Cupping her reddened cheeks, you bring her into you and lay your lips gently on hers, the butterflies that never left your chest flutter furiously.

A moment neither of you would forget.

You part from her, only to caress her check with your thumb and look her in the eyes.

“I love you too, Mina.”

Her eyes hit the floor, you can feel the excitement oozing from every part of her.

It’s adorably charming, you swoon at how happy she is to hear you say those words.

“I should…probably get to class…you should stay and watch….if you want.” Reaching for your hands and wraps her fingers around yours.

“I’d love that.” The grin on your face sits in place, permanently painted at the words she spoke to you as they repeat while she leads you through the studio doors.

—

Watching Mina teach her ballet class was mesmerizing. The grace and fluidity of her movements was as alluring as they were devastating. The balance and poise she had was aspiring to all her students, as they watched her twirl around the hardwood and bow once finished.

Though she spoke, it was hard to keep focus on the instructions she was giving to the women taking her class.

Her lips moving and all you could hear was “I love you.” Too lost in that specific sentence ringing in your ears to entertain anything else.

“…do you need an example?…Y/n! Can you come here for a moment?” Her voice chimes in your ears so beautifully, snapping you back to her giving you a rushed come here motion.

Springing out of your seat, you walk over to Mina - she looks so cute in her little tights that you have to bite back a smile.

“Don’t move, okay?” looking you in the eyes with her hands on your arms to make sure what she said registered, she must’ve seen you swooning over her in the corner of the studio.

Mina positions you in front of her, the rest of the class watching as she swiftly hoists her leg up and places her ankle on your shoulder- thigh pressed against your torso as she explains her movements, what it’s supposed to look and feel like while your jaw is on the floor.

Feeling the heat rise between your legs, you stand painfully still while Mina continues on teaching her class when suddenly two cold fingers guide your mouth shut.

Instantly turning red, you realize you had been caught gawking.

“Sorry.” whispering to her nonchalantly.

“Don’t be.” whispered back.

“I did teach this lesson today on purpose.” Mina winks at you, wearing a smirk on her face like she knew exactly what that would do to you.

“Alright, everyone! I think that’s enough for today!” dismissing everyone before turning her attention back to you- leg still up on your shoulder.

“Do you want to go back to your place now?” leaning in to kiss your cheek, pressing her core against you as she does.

The warmth that radiates from her is excruciating.

“I’ve never been more ready.” Body tensing as she removes her leg gracefully from you and giggles.

“Let’s go, then.”

Quickly gathering all of her stuff and making sure you had everything you needed, Mina runs into the back to grab something and tells you to meet her in the car.

You practically run to the car to get it started.

—

The door flies open, you take Mina’s bags and toss them on the couch. She’s giggling behind you as she closes the door and removes her jacket before placing it on the hook by the door.

You’re not sure what to do with yourself, patiently waiting for her to say something while you’re day dreaming about how she had you this morning.

“I’m going to shower and get comfy.” Kissing you before she disappears into your bedroom.

Removing your jacket and taking your shoes off, you sit on the couch and kick your feet up on the coffee table.

Grabbing the blanket tossed over the arm of the couch and throwing it over your legs, you turn the tv on and out on a random show to drown out the silence.

Scrolling through your phone, your stomach growls. You bet Mina is hungry too after her class.

Opening a delivery app, you scroll to your most frequently ordered dishes from Mina’s favorite restaurant, pressing order with no hesitation.

Hearing the shower kick on, you know you’ve got about 20 minutes before Mina is on the couch with you - stealing your blankets and cuddling up to you for warmth.

You grin at the thought and decide you should get more comfortable as well. Walking into the bedroom to change out of the jeans and sweater you were wearing, you hear a voice from the bathroom.

“Baby, Can you come here a second?” Mina chimes through the cracked door and the falling droplets.

Walking over to the door, you take your sweater off and lightly kick the door open.

“Yeah, hon?” eyes meeting Mina’s as she sits on the counter, palms flat on the surface, and completely in the nude.

“Come here…” reaching out for your hand.

You let her take it and tug you between her legs, pulling you into a sensual passionate kiss that drowned you in love.

Things heat up for a moment, before she pushes you away - tugging at the button of your pants and letting them drop to the floor.

“I love you.” softly spoken against your lips, her hands wandering around your neck and slipping down your back, nails against skin.

Though the sensation is light, it sends shockwaves of pure pleasure over you, goosebumps douse your skin.

The warm delicate satin of her fingertips with the partial sharpness of her nails melts you into her, welding together like two sheets of metal connecting under a scorching burst of heat.

Your hands raise up, cupping her face and keeping it close as your lips dance with hers. Tangoing through this passionate encounter when you feel her teeth pinch and tug softly on your lower lip.

The whimper you let out was more than enough; she had you right where she wanted you.

Mina’s finger raised up, pad to your bottom lip while your foreheads stay connected.

“Not yet.”

Both of you huffing and eyeing each other up and down, temptation running wild in each pass on each other.

A knock at the door interrupts the streaming moment.

“…I forgot I ordered us food…”

Mina’s hands slip down to your ass, squeezing it in her hands and giving you her signature gummy smile.

“What did you get?” Excitement present as you step away from her and she hops off the counter.

“Your favorite.” Winking at her and taking your jeans off.

You notice the wet spot she left on the counter and smirk.

“Meet you on the couch in 10?”

“Deal.” As she steps into the shower and you head towards the door.

—

Changing took seconds, slipping into sweats and a baggy tshirt and setting out Mina’s favorite clothes to steal from you.

Grey sweatpants, black hoodie.

Grabbing the food and bringing it to the kitchen, you wait until you hear the shower cut off to put it on plates.

Bringing them to the living room, setting them down on the table and walking back to the kitchen to get some drinks for the two of you.

Opting for a mixed drink, you get two rocks glasses out of the cabinet and put a couple ice cubes in them, swirling them around a little to chill the glasses.

Grabbing the bottle of rum off the refrigerator, you pour until you hit the top of the ice and finish it off with some Coke.

Bringing them carefully to the living room, Mina is already on the couch waiting for you - looking immaculate in your clothes. Hair leaving wet spots on the hoodie as it bends and curls it’s way through the drying process.

“OoOoOo, trying get me drunk?” Reaching for the glass she knew was hers before sipping it and setting it next to her plate.

Offering a giggle, you sit next to her and throw a blanket over both pairs of legs.

“Pick something you want to watch, baby.” taking a bite of your food and a swig of your drink.

The alcohol burns on its way down your throat, making a face as it warms your stomach.

“Maybe you’re trying to get drunk.” Mina chuckled next to you.

“Why would I be trying to get drunk?”

“So you won’t be so nervous later? If that’s the word to use.” flicking through the options and settling for a horror movie you have both seen so you don’t have to pay attention.

“Nervous? About what?” another bite with a sip following your confusion.

Mina glares at you, like you just forgot the encounter you’ve had in the bathroom.

“Fine.” Frigid tone slaps you across the face as she continues eating in silence.

“Oh, come on baby! Im just teasing you…” taking another bite.

“I’m sure you make a great dommy mommy.” Giggling and chewing your food.

Mina remains cold to you, her jaw tensing further with the jab at her dominance.

“Babe, I’m just playing. Please don’t take me seriously.” Looking over at her.

She doesn’t react, just continues eating and sipping her drink.

You give her the space she silently asked for.

—

After dinner was done, you grab her plate and go to the kitchen to rinse both off and put it in the dishwasher.

“Do you want another drink?” shouted to the living room.

“No.”

You hear the bedroom door close and silence following.

“Well, fuck.” Said under your breath as you pour yourself a shot and knock it back.

Sighing as you finish up in the kitchen and wash your hands, tossing the dish towel on the rack to dry and walking back to the living room.

The tv is off, Mina’s empty glass is on the table and the bedroom door is closed.

Walking up to the door, you lightly knock.

“Mina…are you okay?”

Silence.

“Mina…I’m sorry, I was just messing around! I didn’t mean to make you upset.” there’s a ping of sadness in your voice, this must’ve caught her attention.

“You didn’t.”

Another beat of silence.

“You can come in, you know.”

Cracking the door open slowly and stepping into the dark room, you see Mina sitting on a chair in black lace lingerie and a strap hanging from the side of the chair.

She stands, meeting you half way to the door.

“You’re so cute when you think you’ve upset me.” Her finger caresses your face, making your breath hitch.

“If you’re good…I’ll still give you what you want, okay?”

Nodding your head quickly but gently at what she says, you agree to her terms before you even know what they are.

“Good girl.”

*Fuck.*

“Are you ready?” the eye contact deflates your lungs - senses overloading as you gently nod your head once more.

Mina’s eyes dilate- her jaw tenses as she pulls away from you.

“Strip and sit in that chair for me. I’ll be right back.” Kissing your cheek and vanishing out the door.

Doing exactly as you’re told - you strip completely nude as quickly as possible and sit in the chair facing the door.

Mina walks back in, seeing you being so obedient and smirks.

“Now you want to be good for me?” arms crossed and hiding something behind them.

You’re too blinded by her beauty to notice. Black lace hugging her body so perfectly, you’re drooling at the thought of ripping it from her body and licking every drop of slick she has between her legs.

“You spent so much time earlier trying to provoke me…” Mina walks towards you, slowly.

“And yet here you are…”

As she gets closer she uncrosses her arms, revealing some thick red ribbon she must’ve taken from the studio earlier in the day.

Squatting down in front of you, she puts the spool of ribbon under her chin, resting her head on it before lifting her brow at you, play confusion on her face.

She’s taunting you.

You like it a little too much.

As you feel the build up of slick leaking out of you, you try to subtly clench your legs to try and prevent it from being visible to Mina. Not wanting to let her know that she was winning this mental game you were playing.

“Here you are,” she repeats, placing her hands on your knees and spreading your legs apart.

“Acting like a pathetic needy whore for me.”

Your eyes shift from left to right, not sure where to look or what to say.

“Interesting. Isn’t it?” She begins unraveling the ribbon in front of you, making sure you watch as she does.

“Put your hands behind your back, slut.” Standing and walking around the chair.

Once again, you listen.

“Good girl.” Whispered to you from behind as you feel the softness of the ribbon wrap around your wrists and tighten harshly.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, baby.” The final knot tied and you are unable to move now, she’s made sure to wrap the ribbon around the back of the chair so you can’t move, let alone get up.

Mina grabs the strap from the back of the chair, returning to your line of sight and squatting down in front of you.

“Lift your feet.”

You comply.

Slipping eat foot into the faux leather material, hoisting it up to your thighs and waiting for you to lift your hips. You instinctively follow her movements, allowing her to fix the buckles on you tightly.

Mina stands in front of you again, in all her glory, removing the black lace thong she was wearing and tossing it towards the bathroom.

The smirk on her lips drove you insane, the neediness radiating from you was tense and very easy to read, despite how much you tried to keep calm.

Stepping closer, she sat on your lap - straddling you, dildo in front of her as she got ready to proceed. She snaps back into the Mina you knew well for a single moment.

“If anything happens tonight that you don’t like…you say “red light” okay?” Cupping your face to reassure you she was still there -a glimmer of your sweet, loving girlfriend.

Simply nodding your head and leaning into her was not a good enough answer. Mina harshly pinches your nipples, brows furrowing against her stunning features.

“Use your words, bitch.”

“Y-yes, Mina” winced out between breaths.

Before anything else could be said, Mina leans for a deep and powerful kiss, no space between your torsos when the feeling of her hand distracts you as it slips up to your throat and squeeze. Letting out a satisfied hum and biting down on your lip before releasing it.

“I’ve waited so long to have you like this…” harshly biting your neck as her weight shifts, grinding down against the strap firmly attached to you.

“You just had to go and be a little brat this morning, didn't you? Wanted me to make it worse? I don’t know how rough I can be with you just yet but let’s try and push your limits.” Each grind harder than the last.

Hearing the sounds that were emitted from your lap was excruciating. Even with friction, she glides so easy up and down, teasing herself and you as she does.

“Your punishment is watching.” growled out before tightening her grip around your throat.

Lifting herself up, you watch as the tip of the strap enters her.

So slow in her movements so you can take in every single breath she‘s taking. Every sigh is music to your ears, the squelch of her cunt as she brought herself down on you, and the way her body tensed and released when she was finally bottomed out.

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.” lifting herself slowly and slamming down on you.

An attempt to bring your arms around her only to feel your restraints tighten against your wrists.

Tugging on them again incites a chuckle from Mina who shows no signs of stopping her movements.

“No touching, fuck ugh!” Her hands falter around your throat, loosening and then tightening again as she rides faster.

The craving inside you is painful, watching as the thin layer of sweat builds up on her skin , hearing her grunt and moan without being about to touch her…excruciating. Soaked was an understatement, you needed to feel something against your pussy.

Too needy to care, you start rocking your hips and getting what little friction you could against your pussy while also contributing to Mina‘s pleasure.

Her hand maneuver up, placing two finger behind your jaw.

“Open your mouth.” How she could get her voice to be stern and whiny, you’ll never know.

“Mina, please let me touch you! I need to fucking taste you baby, please!” Whining at her while thrusting up into her with the range of motion you had.

“Shut the fuck up and open your mouth!” Riding faster the more defiant you get.

“Now!” Pressing her fingers against the back of your jaw to assist you in the task.

Opening your mouth for her, you watch as she hangs her head over you for a moment.

A warm sensation between your legs and in your mouth- she dripped her spit down onto your tongue, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Swallow.” Putting her fingers on your chin and helping you close your mouth so she could watch as you ingest her saliva.

Mina lets out a guttural moan, bucking her hips faster and faster.

“Fuck- just like that!”

Suddenly, her nails are in your chest. Sharply scratching down over your tits, leaving trials of red marks and a hint of blood shines through the clawed streaks.

Hissing as the sting sets it, you can’t focus on anything except what’s happening in the moment.

Mina bouncing on the strap attached to you.

The pulse you feel between your legs.

Her whines and moan.

The smacking of skin.

Fuck, you need her.

Her mouth finds its way to your neck, biting harshly and sucking on your skin leaving trails of bruises in her wake.

Mina’s body tenses, sputtering hips haphazardly thrusting against you when she cries out - arms wrapping around you so tightly, you barely have room to breathe.

Gasping as she tries to continue rocking her hips, the attempt failing, you thrust up as much as you can to help her ride her orgasm out.

No time wasted, Mina gets up from your lap. Legs shaking in an attempted quick recovery as she starts to unbuckle the strap off you.

The only thing you can hear is your heart beat until she shatters the silence with her sultry voice.

“Well now that’s out of the way…” stepping into the cum covered strap herself and standing before you, knife in hand.

“It’s time for the real fun.” Quickly slicing the ribbon to release your arms, you start grabbing at her.

Whining is not enough to explain the sounds filling the room. The absolutely primal want for her was excruciating and you’d do just about anything to feel some type of touch.

“To the bed…Now.” Pointing to where she wants you.

Clinging to her, you have desperation written all over your face. The ragged breath shared between the two of you leaves little to the unknown. Both of you know

Taking in the way your eyes scream for her- she grabs your shoulders harshly, pushing you with the same aggression to the bed.

“Do. As. You’re. Told. Bitch.“ flipping you onto your stomach and pressing your face down into the mattress.

Taking the warm tip of the strap you just had attached to you, she smears her own cum all over your entrance, using it as lube to glide up and down your slit.

“How does that feel? I can see how much you’re fucking leaking for me, whore. Does it make you rabid to know that my cum is about to be inside you?” Taunting you with her tone out of pure evil.

“So fucking good, please baby! I need to feel you.” Muffled through the sheets thread count as she pushed you further into them.

“You think you can just do whatever you want? Huh?” Flipping you over onto your back and lifting your thighs up so you’re sat at the edge of the bed.

Her eyes are black with desire and lust, pulsating at every whine choked out of you.

She takes her fingers, running them up your pussy and gathering as much slick as she can, knowing it would only take moments for you to produce more.

“Open” tilting her head up and watching as you do what you’re told, her fingers reach the back of your throat - forcing a gag from you.

Eyes watering as you choke on her fingers coated in your essence, tears spilling at the lack of stimulation from her, and sniffling as the frustration boils over - you are past words the moment she removes her digits from your mouth.

“You were such a good girl…and I’m a woman of my word.” Slipping the warm strap right into your cunt.

There was no push back, sliding in so easily - all the way in.

The tip hits your cervix and your hands fly up to grab Mina’s shoulders, clawing into them while letting out the loudest most guttural moan you’ve ever heard.

The warmth of the strap was a sensation that was new to you, Mina’s cum coating every inch of it and now it was inside of you - acting as a lubricant and actively creating more with each thrust.

Mina wasted no time, forcing your arms down next to your head and pounding into you. Every single slam like a shockwave of heaven that caused every cell in your body to pulsate with pure pleasure.

“Look at you” more taunting, she was enjoying this.

“Taking my strap like the slut you are. So fucking good for me.”

Barely able to understand what she was saying, you were already seeing stars and focusing on holding your orgasm back.

“Do you like the way my cum feels inside you, baby?” Seductively spewing from her, the contrast between how sweet her voice was and how harshly her hands were holding you down was diabolically sinister.

Something you never expected from sweet Mina.

“Please, Mina…fuck, oh my god!” Nodding your head at her vigorously, hands fighting her grip and she slams into you harder.

“Please what? Are you ready to cum already? What if I’m not done toying with you yet?”

And that sentence pushed you so far off the edge that you were sure that if the neighbors didn’t know her name before…they definitely did now.

Vision blurring as if you’re going 0-160 in a millisecond, harsh grip of your wrists tighten as you twitch violently underneath her, groaning and moaning her name and only her name as your cunt convulses for her.

And the sheets…the poor sheets.

Ruined.

The only thing you can hear is your pulse, your heavy breathing and the sound of something dripping on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

Mina lets go of your wrists, kissing your cheek tenderly and comforting you while you come back down from the height of being ruined. Tracing shapes on your chest as she slowly pulls out, cooing and reassuring you that you did great.

“You did so great for me, my love. So so perfect.” Moving a piece of your hair off your drenched forehead and tucking it behind your ear.

“I’m going to run you a hot bath, okay?”

Nodding your head, unable to speak - you watch as she vanishes to the bathroom.

You can hear the tub running as you drift off into a light nap full of bliss.

Mina wakes you after 5 minutes, letting you know the bath was ready.

“Come on, baby. Let me help you.” Lifting you bridal style and bringing you into the bathroom.

There is no energy to be had, no way to express the gratitude you feel in this moment as your stunning girlfriend carries you to a hot bath that she drew for you after absolutely ruining you.

Placing you gently into the water, she hands you a cold bottle of water and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be right back, you just relax here.” And she’s off again.

It’s hard to stay awake. Between the adrenaline and the warmth of the water hugging you - it’s hard to fight your eyes even through the sting of your freshly ruined pussy but Mina is sure to check in on you every few minutes or so to make sure you aren’t sleeping.

Walking into the bathroom with the sheets and a few wet towels bundled up, she tosses them into the laundry hamper and turns back to you.

“I knew you were messy…but wow.” Letting out a giggle and unhooking the bra that was never removed.

Stepping into the bath behind you, she puts her legs on either side of you and lets you lay back on her. Playing with your hair and massaging your shoulders and arms, she lets out a deep sigh before kissing your cheek again.

“So what did you think?” There is a bit of fear behind the question, but the answer is obvious.

“We should do that more often.“ smirking, even though she can’t see your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I liked it a lot…you’re so irresistible when you’re frustrated.” Giggling as you grab her hand to lock your fingers together.

“Well now you being a brat makes sense…next time I won’t go so easy on you…”

“Easy?” Concern written all over your face and a devilish smirk lay across Mina’s.

“Don’t worry about that now, my love. Tomorrow we can discuss that.”

#twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice smut #kpop imagines #myoui mina x reader #mina x reader #mina imagines #mina smut #myoui mina x fem!reader #mina x fem!reader #minaaaaaaaaaa #twice mina x reader #myoui mina imagines #myoui mina #mina myoui

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xxsycamore · 3 days ago

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╰┈➤ It’s Halloween night at the Crown caste, and you’re looking for some fun.

- William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Jude, Ellis, Roger, Victor, Ring, Nica, Darius x f!reader

[ ◄ PART 1 ] - [ ◄ PART 2 ] - ◉ PART 3

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster; Mythical Beings & Creatures; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Masquerades; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Sirens; Water Sex; Bathtub Sex; Brainwashing; Smoking; Rough Sex; Desk Sex; Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation • wordcount: 3,261 • masterlist

a/n: I got this idea for a story that is similar to Nine Nights, but without any plot or continuity between the different parts whatsoever. Unless, of course, you want to imagine that all of these take place one after another (poor Reader)... Monsterfucking is a new territory for me, so please bear with me. Once again, I tried leaving you with enough hints about who is who and I hope you can have fun guessing them lol

Dubcon warning: The reader seeks out physical intimacy on her own from the very beginning, however, some suitors use their curses' abilities on her without her being aware of it.

NEW: I made a playlist for this fic! It consists of 12 songs, one for each scenario. Enjoy <3

VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024/ KINKTOBER DAY 31: Non-human characters/traits

❝ MONSTER VILLAINS' NIGHT. ❞ (PART 3)

IX. A sly Kitsune

"How do you move your tail like that? It's very realistic... It's wagging so cutely too…"

The fox-like man seated at the other side of the table keeps gazing lazily at you, his chin resting on his palm, as he makes a show of wagging his heavy, fluffy tail for you.

"How are you so sure that it's not real?"

Yeah, right. You'd find his teasing cute if it weren't the tenth or so time he's been answering your question with a question tonight. Each one more deceitful than the previous until you're completely confused about which parts are true and which aren't. The conversation flows easily despite that, as you find yourself stimulated by his web of lies, if anything.

With a smirk blooming on your lips, you decide to answer his riddle without words. Standing up from your seat, you walk slowly until you're behind him, and with one swift motion, you pull on his tail.

The teal-eyed stranger hisses as if he can feel actual pain from the faux appendage. He's such a good liar, a play-along comes naturally to him, it seems. You're a little bit impressed.

It begins to seem strangely exaggerated for a mere act when he looks behind his shoulder and his face is beet red when you meet his gaze. Gone is the playful glint in his eyes, and for a second, you're genuinely worried that you went too far. So you wait for him to say something, anything.

"You've got some nerve, attacking the kitsune's most sensitive spot."

You burst into laughter, barely caring about getting eyes on you from the surrounding crowd. What's more, you're absolutely triumphing on getting this sort of reaction from him - he's almost a sorry sight at the end of his wits, throwing another poor lie at you like that.

"Oh? So what's gonna happen if I keep touching it?"

You wrap your fingers more around the fluffy appendage now, the fur so thick that you can't meet your thumb with the rest of your fingers. You give it a nice stroke, bottom to top, feeling its hard center curve and resist in your hold, as if there truly is a bony spine inside. You're not sure how he's pulling it off when you can see both his hands laid out on the table now, elbows settled on the hard surface with his head drooped in between in a display of utter powerlessness.

By the time you let go and place a hand on his shoulder in concern, the expression on his face has gone through another metamorphosis. There's something animalistic to his gaze now, and it matches the speed with which he drags you out of the room and into some secluded part of the castle.

You're suddenly shoved against a cold wall, the stranger's body firmly pressed against your back as he presses his hips against yours, making you feel the arousal tenting his pants at the front.

"So kind of you to check on me after playing with me so lewdly. Did you feel sorry for me back there? It seems like you've been deceived by the kitsune."

You let out a whimper as your lust for him grows. Screw him for messing with your head like that. But mindgames aside, you know you can get a good time out of this, and you don't practically mind the ongoing roleplay, quite the contrary.

It feels like an eternity has passed before he finally aligns his cock with your dripping hole. You moan as your walls squeeze around him tightly, but he gives you no chance to get used to the delicious stretch before he pulls out of you.

"Say it. Say that you want me to fuck you."

What a tease.

"I want you …to…fuck me…" Throwing your shame out the window, it doesn't take you long before you press your hips back into his, hoping that his swollen cock will find its way inside by chance.

You feel the brush of his fluffy tail around the small of your back, the sensation unfamiliar and not unlike being teased with a feather, and it does a great job at distracting you so he can bottom out inside you in a sharp thrust.

"Ahhh!♡"

"Now then. Let's say that I have a trick up my sleeve to keep you impaled on my cock looong after you get what you want from me. Am I lying, or am I telling the truth?"

Another wag of his tail. Your mind is getting clouded by the growing pleasure, and you realize that this is your only chance to answer before you reach your orgasm.

"Nhhg- I'm rather-sceptical! Haven't you thought that you might not be my type?!"

Bold words for someone who has a cock buried to the hilt inside them currently, you know, but you can't help it. The stranger lets out a chuckle, rutting his hips against you once, and twice, and by the third time, your orgasm hits you.

"Wrong."

Something expands at the base of his cock, and a shudder runs through you. Is that... a knot? An overwhelming sense of fullness rules over your nethers, heightening the pleasure, and only then do you realize you might have truly been deceived by a kitsune.

And leaving its grip might be a little harder than you thought.

X. A bewitching Siren

As soon as you step foot out of the hall, your ears detect a melodic singing voice that is nothing like the music played at the party. Is that coming from a singer invited to perform here? Maybe that's the sound of him doing his warmup. With no set direction in mind, your feet take you closer to the source of that music, without thinking.

Through long and elaborately decorated corridors, your step speeds up, as you're eager to meet the talented individual. If he's someone famous, perhaps you'll able to get his autograph, or at least exchange a couple of words and treasure the chance meeting as a memory…

Following the voice to what looks like a regular restroom, you assume that he came here for privacy. Your excuse would be that you wanted to freshen up, yes, that sounds good. Actually, wasn't that your goal in the first place? Your head is full of excuses to follow the voice, and you understand nothing of it, but your hand is already at the doorknob.

The man you find inside, to your utter surprise, is relaxing in a bathtub. He's in costume too, much like everyone else at the party, but his puts many others to shame.

"What a beautiful tail! It reflects the light so beautifully…Oh, I'm sorry for barging in! I was looking for a restroom, and…"

"Why, thank you! Finally some company, I was starting to get lonely here."

Flip-flap. The beautiful siren's tail you just complimented is even more gorgeous when moving, the holographic properties of its scales making a beautiful rainbow pattern under the bathroom light. You're not sure why he chose something so unpractical if he's prone to getting lonely, but you give him credit for the beautiful sight he makes.

"Do you want to keep me company? I can sing for you."

"Yes, please!"

You're unsure of where that eagarness of yours comes from - wanting to spend more time with his beautiful face, or his intoxicating singing voice. But you don't let the offer slide, you'd be a fool if you did.

"Why don’t you come closer?"

Once again, your feet take you near him before your mind can command them to. Taking a seat at the edge of the bathtub, you offer the stranger a somewhat awkward smile, and he gives you one in return. His eyes are like candy, looking at you so sweetly with their magenta color as if daring you to get even closer. But you don’t get a say in that. Because he takes matters into his own hands, pulling you in by the arm until you lose your balance and fall in the tub right on top of him.

Your yelp is masked by the noisy splash of water, but you can't move an inch. The beautiful tail you admired just a while ago now turns into an immobilization tool, wrapping around your legs and pressing them tightly together. Similarly, he wraps his naked arms around your torso, fully capturing you in his grasp. He also appears to be… laughing.

"What are you squirming so much for? I thought we were going to have fun?"

"I'm just- surprised- Ahh!!"

Flipping the two of you around, you find your head dangerously close to being pushed underwater.

"Isn't it exciting to be held like that? Don't worry so much, I'm not gonna drown you! I need a pretty woman like you by my side if I want my singing performance to truly capture the romantic sound I'm trying to give it! And if we were to make love during it, that's making it even more powerful, don't you think?"

His sense of humor is strange, but you can't deny the way adrenaline heightens your need, as much as you hate the part of your brain that does that to you. He begins touching you all over with his gentle hands while humming a tune, and between desperate moans, you have another chance to admire his costume, the scales on his arms a beautiful finishing touch.

When he finally enters you, your world is spinning, and the sound of water continuously spilling over the edge of the tub sounds so distant. The man's moans are like a melody, the way he drags them out, you feel brainwashed by them almost. You'll do anything to prevent him from putting an end to that song, until you can't move a limb anymore. You just have to be careful not to completely drown in him.

XI. A cunning Devil

Wandering off on your own turns out to be rewarding as you truly manage to find another balcony that's not as crowded as the hall's main one. The crisp midnight is heavenly when you take a lungful, instantly putting you at ease. It makes you that much startled when you suddenly register someone's presence beside you. Cigarette smoke rudely enters through your nose just as you've been getting to enjoy your air filtered out from heavy perfumes. The man doesn't pay you much attention upon setting his elbows on the railing, and you can't decide if you're relieved or offended by it. The latter somewhat prevails, and you decide to break the ice after all.

"Too noisy inside, huh? It's good that we found a place to escape, haha…"

You're just a tad awkward with him, and he isn't helping much with the uninterested half-gaze he casts in your direction as he lets out a huff of smoke.

"Did ya come here hoping that I'd fool around with you?"

W-What on Earth…! Just what left him with the impression that you're-

"Take yer decision quickly. I'm almost done here."

What is he acting so full of himself for? It pisses you off, and that's no good, because you know yourself too well when being provoked.

"Fine. Let's 'fool around'. I bet you're not even that good."

The stranger takes another drag of his cigarette.

"And what do I get in return?"

The audacity!

"Excuse me? You get my body, maybe? We're BOTH in this, aren't we?"

For the first time, he turns to fully face you. You see a pair of short, pointy red horns on top of his head, and his tired eyes have a strange glint in them, making him look dangerous somehow.

"Can you repeat that for me?"

"What? I'm giving you my body."

His violet eyes flash red for a second, you swear you see them. It must be the light playing tricks on you. Not that it matters now. Not when the whole demeanor of the stranger changes in the next second, with you being whisked away in his arms and pinned against the nearby wall.

"I'm gonna treat ya to some good time, after all."

"Finally." You roll your eyes, getting used to the new arrangement as the man captures your wrists and pins them above your head. You try to initiate a kiss despite your partial immobilization, but you easily miss his lips when he lowers his head to nibble at your neck instead. The bickering must have rilled you up, because you're moaning already, despite yourself. The last thing you want is to give him the time of day and become a whimpering, moaning mess under his touch. You'll hold back as much as you can, just because. But he's making it way harder than anticipated.

Between your legs, his hand finds your dripping core easily but he's gone the second it starts feeling good. You curse him in your head, but your temper is quickly softened by the way he hoists up one of your legs on his arms and enters you. His cock feels divine, you hate to admit, as he loses no time starting to thrust away in your welcoming heat. Maybe a quick, rough fuck is exactly what you wanted. You open your eyes just so you can look at him through a layer of lustful haze. Is he enjoying this as much as you are?

The smirk on his face catches you off guard, and coupled with a rougher thrust, it becomes the reason why you reach an explosive climax so soon. He follows not long after, pulling out at the last moment and painting your abdomen with his cum.

On wobbly legs, you readjust your clothes to retrieve some decency before you return to the real world. But a hand captures your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Tsk, where do ya think yer going? Did ya forget already? Your body is mine now."

A thin red tail with a pointed tip wraps around your leg, further preventing you from making your escape. You hear your own heart pound in your chest, and you realize that you might have just made a deal with the Devil.

XII. A beguiling Death

"Awww, I hate this part so much! Seeing the hall get emptier and emptier as the small hours roll in…" You giggle a little at Victor's woes. The social butterfly he is, it only makes sense that he feels that way, on top of him being the party's host. You've chosen his company for a large chunk of the evening, yet you still feel as if you barely spent time with him. He's been excusing himself times and times again, talking with guests, managing the event, making sure that everyone's having fun. All of which, of course, includes you, and you're thankful for that, making sure to remind him what a good time you're having every chance you get. "But Victor, isn't it nice? You'll get to relax at long last! You must be tired." Victor looks at you, a mysterious little smile on his face. For someone who smiles so often, you pride yourself in recognizing the different meanings behind the curling of his lips, but that one in particular worries you. "Are you sure you're not having malicious intent when you're saying that? Something like wanting me all for yourself when the guests leave? Ahahaha!" The laughter doesn't make it any less obscene, what he's suggesting. You feign shock as you gaze away from him. "I never said that!" "Naughty girl, what did you think? I meant it with utmost innocence! We could help ourselves to some sinfully sweet leftovers once anyone leaves, for starters!" Oh! Okay, he caught you there. You both laugh, holding each other's gaze. His idea doesn't sound all too bad. You tell him you'll be waiting in his office, with a wink. He nods and stands to his feet, preparing to see the last of the guests out.

*** "Victor, you're still wearing your costume!" You don't have to wait long for him. Your arms are open and welcoming as soon as he enters the office, and he gives you a warm hug without saying anything. His long, black robes give him an interesting aura. His choice of costume frankly surprised you. For someone as eccentric as him, you were ready to bet he'd pick something flashy and colorful, but no. Tonight, he's Death. Your best guess is that he played along with the Grim Reaper nickname, living up to it at least in appearance. His hug gets… handsy. You're being pushed back until your rear bumps into the edge of his desk, and you've no choice but to sit on it. His tongue enters your mouth as his hands never stop wandering on your body, squeezing there and there and feeling you up. "Little Robin." "Hmm?" You barely have the brains left to answer him, just from a few kisses. You want him, now. You hope whatever he wants to talk about right now is directly related to him putting his cock inside you. "What would you do if Death wants to claim you right this instant?" Yes. Gods, yes. "I will simply accept my fate." "Hoooh? Aren't you a good girl!" Victor's long fingers worm their way under layers of clothing until you feel their coldness on your most burning parts. He's inside your panties now, and the way he loses no time slipping two of his digits inside you is making you practically melt. "Ahhh~" He shows no mercy, fingering you at a steady pace from the get-go. You don't hold back either, ready to give him everything you've got. Letting go, you're inevitably pushed over the edge and drenching his fingers with your cum. "And that, my dear," he whispers in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine, "Is called The Little Death." Your heart starts beating faster as you turn your head to capture Victor's gaze. There it is, this strange light in his amethyst eyes again. As if he's just beginning to have his fun with you after revealing another trick up his sleeve. Barely having time to recover, you start moaning in earnest again, as he scissors his fingers through you. Pleasure builds up, and just as you begin to get used to it, Victor changes the angle and begins hitting your sweet spot at the upper wall of your heat with the roughened pads of his fingers. "Ahh- Victor-Too much-" "Let yourself go, Little Robin. Tonight, I want to take everything you have to offer." Helplessly, you grab onto his dark robes for purchase as an unfamiliar sensation builds inside you. You let go as he tells you to, and you're granted with the obscene sound of water hitting the tiled floor of his office. "Nghh- Victor-" "Marvelous. Let's see how many more you can endure, shall we?" As more liquid escapes you, drenching him completely, you feel shameful, yet it's just so good it turns your brain to mush. You're not sure how many more little deaths Victor can pry out of your body, but you'll gladly leave yourself in his arms until the sun comes out.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @raeraeks @ethereal-blossom @valkyyriia @candied-boys @ludivineikewolf Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

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cryptid-killjoy · 2 days ago

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When Mazzie asked Ellie if she'd planned on staying too Babyface knew it wasn't her plan. They hadn't even spoke about it. Still, put on the spot he knew it was his plan all along. He knew from the moment he stepped foot on the boat. He'd known long before that if he ever got the chance to step foot here again and get a do over what he'd do different.

This was it. He'd stay. He wouldn't have run away from Mazzie when she needed him the most. Hindsight made him realize that was biggest mistake.

So, he clenched every muscle as he waited for Ellie's answer. She was laughing and so did Mazzie, but it felt like a goodbye to Babyface. He smiled through it even though it wasn't a no. It was clever wording even a not so clever boy could manage to pick up on. It scared him.

The timer scared him. Her indecision scared him because of that clock. Come some time tonight the island would start it's feed and turning real people into donkeys. He needed the island to accept them or their time, Ellie's time would run out. Not just that but despite being wholly committed to staying, in his mind, it wasn't permanent. When the Foulfellows used to work the island they still left it all the time. Babyface figured he could work on the details of how to leave it later. What mattered is he was staying.

Mazzie laughed. "We skate all over." It seemed to diffuse her though. She was realizing herself what both of them were saying. The one she had been so angry with was the one pleading to stay, completely willing, and the one she was okay with was the one hedging. It gave off the feeling that they had no plans of ambushing her and trying to take her off the island. It made Mazzie have to slow down and think. She gave her memories a once over. It was hard not to be sentimental when these were the only real life friends she'd ever had. Everything Ellie was talking about was reminding her of the old days. No matter how many hard feelings she had, she had just many good or more.

Even all Babyface's questioning made her believe on some level he must have cared more than she realized. So, she looked at him real serious because she knew something he didn't. She was hesitant to say it.

"You'd care for the island like me?"

"Yeah. That's the point. The whole point."

"You're sure. Donkeys and all? You remember how it works?"

"Yeah-yeah. I know. I know. I don't care about all that. I can handle it."

"So, you'd forgive the island for everything."

"Yeah-yeah Alls forgiven. It's all good. Whatever."

"No matter what? You're sure?"

"Yeah. I said yeah. We're crew. Remember?" Babyface sounded frustrated by this point she was dragging it out so much.

"UGH. I'll see what I can do. Come on. Let's go find Jax at the control room." Then she went in for a hug finally giving the warmer reception Babyface wished for.

"And don't ever make me have to forgive you again. Ever. I hated missing you guys."

All the island boys were giving them side eyes but slowly backing away from area where they'd once looked like they were ready to pounce if Mazzie felt threatened. Babyface figured this was a good sign. He finally figured out the pace of the boys was the chaos of island's emotions. At least sort of. He was hoping if they were backing down that meant they were okay with him staying and he wouldn't be turned into a donkey like the offer years ago.

When she finally let go she punched Babyface twice quick with two fast jabs in the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you in so long. I just feel like I owed you some."

She'd start to talk more like a regular conversational Mazzie as they followed her to the control room.

"I have to admit, a part of me thought you two were goners already. Over time I started to assume everyone I knew was gone. We don't have any boats left. We stopped trying to leave. We had the paddle boats and the water zombies would pull them down. Flip them. People would drown trying to leave the mainland dancing unable to swim. The magic didn't dance on the island. We'd never make it back to the mainland if we tried. We decided it was just best to hunker down and live it out here. We could survive. There's been a few to make it but the island either rejected them, got the donkey treatment in the end, or even the few I managed to save succumbed to the zombies eventually. All but one."

He looked over at Ellie with a bit of surprise. He never saw Mazzie as some sort of hero trying to save people on the island even if it ended up a failure.

"Sucks you found some you liked and lost them then I guess."

Mazzie glanced up, "Yeah, they were Beagles."

His feet stopped. "What?"

It wasn't like Babyface didn't already know. He'd been trying to mourn, but no bodies meant he could keep a glimmer of pretend hope. His heart started to pound.

"That's the boat that made it over. They'd been spying on us. You and us. All of us. Trying to figure out what you were doing all the time. It's how they knew. I got the island to let me keep them. Your family was the only people they let me keep. Anyone else that ever happened on the island got the donkey treatment. Sadly, I'm sorry, like I said, the zombies just over ran the place. We're finally getting it weeded down and protected. We have barriers up. But, they're still here."

Babyface was stunned. Fuck those details. "Who Mazzie? Who? Who was here?"

"Oh, Big Time, the zombies came out of nowhere that day. There was nothing we could do. We weren't fast enough. Bouncer, spinning tea cup accident. Not quite sure what happened there. It was going too fast. He got real pukey and dizzy after. Then zombies. He's so big and strong and he couldn't have protected himself if he tried. Not right then."

Babyface looked like he might puke himself. Putting images to his family's vague MIAness to actual faces of death was a reality check. He put a hand on his stomach as he asked, "Wait. Stop. Didn't you say earlier that you had a survivor? You mean of my family?"

"Mhm."

"Well who already? Who?"

Like a movie cue she waved to the control house. "See for yourself."

Babyface Beagle looked over at Ellie and then looked up following Mazzie's arm pointing in the distance.

There was Jax's curly hair sitting on the porch with all the carnival lights behind them talking to a god damn ginger.

Of all Beagles to survive. Mother fucking Bebop was sitting on the stoop with Jax.

Fuck the coachman right now, Ellie just let out the biggest sigh of relief that Jax was okay, her head leaning back as she let it out, running her fingers through her hair. “Thank fuck for that,” She said, thinking of the curly-haired guy whose homework she had helped out with while he was a donkey, of the guy that always seemed to bring a smile to her face, of the one that she disguised as a girl so that he could sleep over at their house. “You have no idea how much we thought of you two. Seriously. Shit went down and -” Another deep breath, shaking their head. Even with zombies here, and the bad boys, she felt alright for the first time since setting foot on the island.

Honest John and Gideon - she didn’t really care about those two right now. It always seemed clear that it was Maz in charge, not those two. So to Babyface’s disappoint, she wouldn’t try to get any clarity on that.

Yeah, of course there was disappointment in Babyface. Ellie had been expecting that. That they weren’t going to get the warmest welcome in the world, considering that Babyface had literally gone and popped the Magic Man. And she knew that Babyface wasn’t going to go apologizing for it either.

Her face definitely reflected the shock at what he was doing instead. That was not expected. That was not what they had talked about. True, they didn’t actually talk about what to do with their future, but it always had seemed so open. Like they could do anything. They had no attachments anymore, nothing keeping them down. Ellie had the Laveaus and Aunt Elsa but distance didn’t seem to come between them, she could go anywhere. Babyface had his mom in prison, and she supposed now Black Arts Beagle but it was hard to trust the smooth-talker. He was too smooth, like a freshly waxed floor, and she didn’t want to go slipping and sliding.

So much for not making any decisions for Ellie. He might not have spoken for her right then and there, but his decision affected her too, and he had to have known that. He goddamn better have known that.

This was hard. This was conflicting. It felt like two separate armies - the hot and the cold inside of her - were clashing inside of one another and there was no winning.

This was her crew. This was her life. She had the chance to get Maz back in it, and Jax. The two people that she never felt right not having anymore. She woulda died for them, no question. She woulda fought for them too. And here she was, with the opportunity to stay here, in this place that felt like a personal Hell to her, with them.

But then there was the other side. The Hellish side. She never liked the island. She never liked the way that it made her feel. The bad kids, the constant screaming and noise and mayhem, the fact that she couldn’t even use her powers which was something that Babyface would never understand, because he never had them. Being repressed like that - it felt like having a part of her missing.

But there were heavy eyes on her, wanting to make a decision. And a yes or a no was something that she couldn’t give now, not without thinking about it first, not without talking to her trusted people about it.

The weight of the eyes was intimidating. Babyface and Mazzie both. She struggled to come up with filler, something that wasn’t a yes, but also wasn’t a no.

“Put in a skatepark and we’ll talk about it.”

#babyfacexellie #mazziexellie

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