#i wish him nothing but the best and i kinda want to get his book as well

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[localgardenweed]

About to lose my shit over my shitty Algebra teacher cause i think he’s the devil incarnate cause he doesn’t respect kid’s 504 plans, there is this kid who may not always show up to class on time for some reason im not sure why but they try their best to catch up and work hard and they asked to send over and take the recent test they missed in a certain classroom and he was like “No you cant, you have to show up tomorrow in here to take it” when literally in their 504 plan says they can take it in that room no one can force them to take it in their classroom, but DOES HE CARE??? NOOOOOO. I think he was just trying to be tough or smth god knows what cause he has a huge ass power complex like dear god dude we get it you were a army guy but is yelling at teens really what you wanna do to feel that high of power again?? The kid then complained to the school and he got a ass whooping but sadly not fired and then the next day was pissed as hell and took it out on all of us 😍

he doesn’t care to actually help students at all, he just gives up on them if they don’t understand the first or barely the second time and tells em to basically fuck off and find someone else to explain it and i get it teaching is hard you might not be able to get everyone to understand BUT ITS LITERALLY HIS GO TO RESPONSE WHEN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SMTH IN HIS SHITTY RAPID FIRE EXPLANATION WHEN HE JUST JUMPS FROM THING TO THING WITH NO VISUAL OR EVEN SENSE CAUSE WTF HOW DID YOU GET THAT ANSWER HELLO?? SLOW DOWN?? We were going over the study guide and he started doing a question and then realized half way it was “too hard” to do on the board so he gave up and kept going to the next question and a kid at my table who didn’t do that part pf the study guide cause they dont know how asked “Can you go over that please i don’t understand it” and his response was “im not going over it just to fill it in” and the kid said “im not asking to just fill it in im asking cause I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT” and guess what. HE DIDNT DO IT HE JUST IGNORED THEM AND KEPT GOING. YOUR STUDENT IS ASKING FOR HELP AND YOU AINT DOING SHIT. HELLO??? AND THIS ISNT THE FIRST TOME HE ALWAYS PULL THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME, GOD FORBID YOU ASK A QUESTION MORE THAN ONCE THATS TOK SCARY AAAHHHHH.

I hope all his classes fails and they fire his ass cause omg there has never been anything positive said about this man that isn’t from favorites/people who already are godly at math. The average student who’s had him HATES HIM.

Im really debating like cussing him out Thursday after my final cause i cant just walk away and act like it was a okay class no he needs to get fucking humbled at least see what he does is harmful and shitty and douchey. I dont care if i get in trouble im not gonna go down like this so many kids in that class have struggled cause of his ass not doing his job. And sure some of there are rowdy and sure some are a bit off task but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon them. If i ever kicked my own bucket he would be 5 of my 13 reasons why.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 10

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Azriel is fine,” Gwyn repeated drily, her nose buried in a book.

Her friends got to hear all about Nesta’s worry. 

“You don’t know that,” Nesta said with a sigh. “I just…gods, I want to throttle Rhysand,” she seethed. For doing this to Azriel. 

To Az. Who had always been kind to her. Who had always been…sweet to her. Who was sweet. Even when his exterior didn’t betray that. Who was kind and thoughtful and gave the best gifts…Who had sat with her when she had waken up from nightmares and had been willing to lay down his life to make sure that her sister would be happy. 

He was like a brother to Nesta. He was what she had always imagined an older brother to be like. And she knew that he had been utterly miserable, but hadn’t been able to fix what was wrong for him…and now she got to find out that it was all Rhysand’s fault. 

Emerge just sighed. “Get in line,” her friend said drily. “Mor wants to do worse than that to him, I think.”

Nesta held back a snort. She believed it once she saw it and not before. 

“He is fine. Quite happy even,” Gwyn repeated, a small grin painting her features. 

“How do you know?” Nesta demanded, turning to her red-haired friend who just smiled at her. 

“Because I saw him yesterday,” Gwyn said simply.

"You saw him?" Nesta asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "Where? When?" When had Gwyn. 

Gwyn just sighed. “Why would a male and a female that love each other very much come to see a Priestess?” 

Nesta's eyes widened as she realized what Gwyn was implying. 

"You don't mean..." she trailed off, shock and disbelief etched on her face. "They're getting married?" she said weakly.

Gwyn just grinned at her, miming to lock up her mouth and throw away the key. "Let's just say that Azriel couldn't have been more in love if he had tried," she said cryptically, flipping the page of her book with a smirk.

“Who is she?” Nesta demanded. Who was Azriel’s mate? Who was the girl that the mother had picked to be good enough for Az? 

“Sweet. Quiet,” Gwynn answered easily. “Thinks Azriel hung the moon and the stars.”

That was what he deserved, wasn’t it? 

Azriel deserved happiness after everything he had been through, and if his mate could provide that for him, then that was all that mattered. 

"Azriel deserves someone who loves him that much," she said, nodding in agreement. "Does he seem happy too?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"He's as happy as I've ever seen him," Gwyn answered, her expression softening. "He couldn't take his eyes off her the whole time. It was like the rest of the world didn't even exist."

Nesta smiled, feeling a sense of warmth thrumming through at the thought of Azriel being so happy. "I'm glad he's found someone who makes him feel that way," she said softly. "He deserves it."

Gwyn just smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I think they're good for each other," she said simply. "They just...fit together, you know?"

That’s what Nesta wished for for him.

And once she had that confirmation… well, it was much easier to calm Cassian.

Who had been near rabid with… Nesta wasn’t even sure with what. A bad conscience maybe. Anxiety, anger…a whole maelstrom of emotions. 

"Talk to me," she said simply, as she sat down on the ground a few feet away from where he was stabbing one of the training dummy. She had half expected him to pin a painting of Rhysand to it, to stab his brother’s proxy.  “Stop reducing every training double to kindle,” she said drily.

“Az said three days,” and he wasn’t there this morning,” Cassian snapped.

"Calm down," Nesta said firmly. "Azriel is a grown male, Cassian. He can take care of himself. Maybe something came up."

Like breakfast with his wife after they got married. 

"But what if he's hurt or...or worse?" Cassian said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We don't even know where he is or what he's doing."

Nesta sighed, knowing that she couldn't brush off his concerns completely. "Look. He said he would be with his mate," Nesta said drily. "I am sure she'll take care of him. And Gwyn did see him yesterday and said he was fine."

"Why did Gwyn see him?" Cassian demanded immediately.

“Because I had a favour to ask," Azriel's voice came from behind them, drily.

Cassian turned around so quickly that she was quite sure that he got whiplash...and then pounced on Azriel in a bonecrushing hug.

"I am so sorry," she could hear her mate apologise. "I had a talk with Rhys. I imagine you'll get a apology from him as well. It's not enough, it's nowhere near enough, but...maybe it could be a start," Cassian said softly. "I am sorry that you didn't feel like you could come to me when you found your mate."

Even when Azriel had a temper...if it was about his family he was more forgiving than they had any right to, Nesta reflected drily, as she watched him return the hug from Cassian. 

"It's not your fault," he waved him off, his voice dry. Cassian disagreed with that assessment, Nesta knew. Cassian thought that he should have said something earlier, done more...

She had never seen him as angry with Rhysand as he had been over the last few days. Actually, Nesta hadn’t thought that she would ever see the day that Cassian broke his High Lord's nose on purpose.

Cassian pulled back slightly from the hug, his expression still earnest. "I mean it, Az," he said. "I should have been there for you. I should have had your back."

"He did break Rhys'nose on your behalf," Nesta said drily.

Azriel's lips twitched into a faint smile. Thank you," he said, amusement in his voice.  "That...means more than you know."

Cassian just shrugged, still feeling guilty for not having been there for Azriel when he needed him. "I should have been a better brother to you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I let you down."

Azriel said nothing, but squeezed Cassian’s shoulder. 

Nesta couldn’t help but look for a ring on his hand. A simple gold band glinted there on his finger, and she was unable not to smile at it. 

“Congratulartions,” she said quietly, nodding to the ring and Azriel looked at her and then the ring…and then he chuckled as she stood up and hugged him too. 

“Thank you,” he thanked her graciously. 

“You got married?!” Cassian said, sounding shocked, but the warmth in his voice was apparent. “Congrats!”. 

"So, tell us all about her," Nesta said seriously.

"Why do you want to know?" Azriel asked, staring at her.

"Because she is your mate. She is your wife. She is important to you," Nesta said simply. "She is important to you, so she is important to us. What's her name?"

"Her name is Sky," he answered softly. 

Sky. 

Her name was Sky. 

Named after what Azriel hadn’t been allowed to feel for over a decade. Sky. Named after what every Illyrian held dearest. 

"Sky is...the sweetest person I have ever met. With the bluest eyes. She loves books and her cat," Azriel explained, a soft smile on his face. 

Nesta and Cassian exchanged a small smile at the way Azriel's face lit up when he talked about Sky. "She sounds amazing," Nesta said sincerely. "We can’t wait to meet her. Whenever you are ready."

"Do you...Do you want to come to dinner tonight?" Azriel offered.

Nesta hadn't expected that. Had expected Azriel to hold a grudge to keep her away from all of them...but he was giving them a chance.

"Are you sure?" Nesta asked carefully. "We would love to come, but only if you're comfortable with it."

Azriel paused for a moment, "I'm sure," he said simply. "Sky would like it, and I...I would like it too."

Nesta smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest at Azriel's words. "We'll be there," she said warmly, Cassian nodding in agreement.

"Good," Azriel said simply. "I'll tell Sky."

"Thank you, Az," Cassian said softly, his expression earnest. "For giving us a chance."

This didn't stop Nesta's mate from telling her about his more and more ridiculous theories about Azriel's mate during their flight into Velaris and the mountains surrounding it.

Nesta couldn't help but roll his eyes as Cassian suggested her being a mythical being like Amren. "I swear, Cassian, you have the wildest imagination," she said, shaking her head. "Can you focus on flying for one minute without dreaming up these ridiculous scenarios?"

Cassian just shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. "Hey, it's fun to speculate," he said with a playful wink. "Besides, you never know...maybe Az's mate is a mermaid princess or something equally as exciting."

Nesta couldn't help but snort with laughter, even as Cassian landed in front of a charming cabin at a mountain lake. As soon as they landed, Nesta took a moment to take in their surroundings. The cabin was indeed charming, hidden away in a picturesque mountain setting near a serene lake. The peaceful surroundings seemed to perfectly mirror Azriel's quiet and introspective nature. Nesta could understand why he had chosen this spot as his home.

As they made their way towards the front door, Nesta couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves. This was…this was important. 

This was the female that Azriel had married, his mate…she was important to him.  

Before they had a chance to knock, Azriel opened the door, a slight smile on his face. "Come in," he said warmly.

Nesta's gaze immediately fell to the female at his size. Shorter than average, a body that consisted out of voluptuous curves, with chocolate brown waves falling to her waist. Her hands were clenched together and she was obviously nervous as she stared at Nesta and Cassian with ill-hidden apprehension.

"This...is Sky," Nesta heard Azriel say. Nesta couldn't tear her eyes away. Sky was exactly what she had expected and absolutely nothing like it at the same time. 

Nesta's first impression of Sky was that she was undeniably pretty, in a quiet and understated way. But as she looked at the nervous expression on Sky's face, Nesta couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

She could only imagine how daunting it must feel for Sky to be meeting Azriel's family for the first time. She gave Sky a warm smile, which she hoped would put the girl at ease. "It's nice to finally meet you, Sky," she said gently. "Az has told us a lot about you."

Sky managed a trembling smile, but the nerves were clear on her face. "It...It's n...nice t...to me...meet y...you t...too," she stuttered, grimacing at her own voice. Azriel's hand on her waist tightened and he fixed both Nesta and Cassian with a look that told them there would be hell to pay if they said a single thing about her stutter.

Nesta just gave him a reassuring smile, as  she got the message loud and clear. She wasn't going to make Sky feel even more uncomfortable and insecure than she already seemed to be. Not when it was clear that Azriel cared about her so much.

Cassian didn't even hesitate to pull first Azriel into a hug and then Sky right alongside with him, her small frame utterly dwarfed by Cassian.

“So you are my brother’s mate,” Cassian told her seriously. "We are so happy that we finally get to meet the girl that makes our brother so happy.”

Sky blushed at Cassian's warm words, but some of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. "Th...Thank you...," she murmured, her tone a barely audible one. She stepped back into Azriel's embrace and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, his wings coming around to encircle her in a protective embrace.

Even his shadows seemed to love her. The shadows that normally kept away from every other person, only clinging to Azriel…seemed to dote on her, curls themselves through her hair, and along the hem of her dress…

"Shall we go inside?" Azriel asked, gesturing towards the open door behind him. Nesta and Cassian nodded, following the pair into the cozy cabin. The interior of the cabin was just as warm and inviting as the outside, with rustic wooden floors and a large stone fireplace that crackled cheerfully. There were shelves filled with books on every wall and a few comfortable armchairs nestled around a low table.

So many books. Nesta was quite sure that it probably could be considered a private library.

But before she could really take it in, there was a rough meowing.

Nesta glanced down in surprise to see a fat, fluffy brown cat sauntering towards them, meowing loudly. The cat rubbed against Sky's ankles before trying to leap on the arm of the couch...and failing horrible. "Is that your cat?" Nesta asked, an amused smile on his face.

"Y…Yes, Th...That's H...Hector," Sky answered, picking up the cat that now pretended that falling off the couch had been totally his plan all along and instead curled himself happily in Sky's arms. His yellow eyes stared in two different directions and his fur was patchy...but he was somehow quite charming.

Nesta liked him. He had character.  And his rough purring was adorable.

"He's adorable," Nesta said honestly, holding out her hand towards him. As Hector sniffed at her, she reached out to gently scratch behind his ears. The cat leaned into her touch contentedly, his purrs growing even louder.

"Sky dotes on him," Azriel said with a hint of pride in his voice. "He was a stray and she took him in. She's been taking care of him ever since."

Nesta looked at Sky, who was smiling at her cat. "That's so sweet," Nesta said. "He's a big boy, isn't he?" she said with some amusement. When Sky held him, Hector seemed to be nearly half her size.

"I...It's a...all the tuna he eats," Sky answered drily.

Nesta chuckled, "Well, he's certainly in good hands with you." She watched as Hector purred contentedly in Sky's arms, clearly very attached to her.

Cassian, meanwhile, was eyeing the cat with a playful grin. "Careful, Az, Hector might try to steal your girl with all his charm," he teased.

Azriel just cocked an eyebrow, "Oh he already did," he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Nesta couldn't help but laugh at their banter. It felt good to see Azriel being relaxed enough to joke around, even if it was at his own expense.

Even Sky was smiling as Hector let out a loud meow, clearly demanding attention. "Someone's jealous," she said softly, scratching him behind his ears. Hector purred contentedly and burrowed deeper into her arms, clearly happy to be the center of attention.

"Y...You want to hold him?" she offered the cat to Nesta. "I need to check on dinner."

Nesta gamely lifted Hector from Sky's arms, cradling him like a baby. "I'll keep him entertained while you do," she said with a smile. Hector mewled contentedly, his head tilted as he looked at Nesta with one eye.

As Azriel and Cassian made themselves comfortable on the couch, “Are you sure that’s a cat?” Cassian hissed towards Azriel. “And not a stunted mountain lion or something?” 

“It’s all the tuna he eats. He had a hard life," Azriel said defensively.

Nesta looked up from where she was still playing with Hector. "I can see that," she said with a nod, gesturing towards Hector's missing eye and patched up fur. "I can tell he was loved from the moment Sky took him in though."

Nesta carried him over to the bookcases, eyes greedily reading the names and words on the spines.

It was a whole galore of romance books in these bookcases, a lot that Nesta had never even heard about, though there were some of her favourites between them...another bookcase held books from every which topic that involved sword fighting and horse riding and blacksmithing and everything in between...lots of cookbooks too...and then there was one bookcase that seemed to be solely filled with every Sellyn Drake novel in existence. Even the ones that were so rare that notneven the house had yet managed to get them for Nesta. 

Nesta couldn't help but smirk as she ran her fingers over the spines of the 'Sellyn Drake' books. "Seems like Sky is just as big of a fan as I am," she said with a chuckle.

She turned to see Sky in the open kitchen, busy with a large pan. "You have all of her books," Nesta said admiringly. "I can't believe you have some of the rare ones, I have been trying to get those forever!"

Sky looked up from her cooking, surprised that Nesta seemed impressed by her collection. "Y...Yeah, I...I do like them..." Sky replied, her voice soft and hesitant. She turned back to the stove, clearly feeling self-conscious as she stirred the pot.

Nesta sensed her discomfort and decided to lighten the mood. "You know, I think I should officially crown you as the ultimate Sellyn Drake fan," she said with a playful grin. "No one has a collection like this one. Maybe we can talk about our favorite scenes sometime. I'm dying to discuss the latest novel...Did you read it already? Azriel got it for my birthday," Nesta told her brightly. "It's signed. I have no idea how he even managed that."

"I gave it to him," Sky said, turning towards her. 

Sky had gotten it for Az?!

"Where did you get it from? It wasn't even out yet?!" Nesta asked curiously. "Tell me your secrets."

Azriel smirked, "I have my ways," he said with a wink. "But I can't reveal all my secrets. The fun is in keeping a few things a mystery."

Nesta just rolled her eyes, "Always the cryptic one, Az." She then turned back to Sky, "But seriously, where did you get the signed copy from? I'd sell my soul to get my hands on one of those."

"The...The author owed me a favor," Sky said, her voice hesitant.

Nesta's eyes widened, "You mean you know Sellyn Drake in person??!!"

"I...I mean...I...she is...me" Sky stammered, her cheeks turning red as she fumbled with her words.

What?

Azriel chuckled warmly, walking over to Sky and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling Sky close. "What Sky is trying to say, Nesta, is that she is Sellyn Drake," he finished for her.

Nesta just stared for a moment, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Are you serious?" she asked, still reeling from the revelation.

Sky just gave her a small nod, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Sellyn Drake is… a…actually a p…pen n…name," she said softly. "I couldn't use my real name and still keep my a…anonymity...So Skylar Alden became Sellyn Drake.”

Nesta was still trying to process the news. "So you're telling me that the author of my favorite novels of all time, is standing in front of me, cooking dinner?"

Sky shrugged, "Y...Yes?" There was a hint of uncertainty in her tone, as if she was unsure of what reaction she was going to get from Nesta.

Nesta's face split into a wide grin, "This is the best day ever" she exclaimed. She couldn't believe that she was meeting her favorite author, and it was even better knowing that the author was someone so sweet and unassuming as Sky.

Cassian started laughing, the sound deep and amused. "You have a few tricks up your sleeve, Sky" he chortled amusedly.

Azriel chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. "Sky is full of surprises, even to me," he teased.

Sky just swatted at his arm, a soft blush coloring her cheeks

***

Somehow actually admitting that she was Sellyn Drake...that was easy. So easy.

She used to be so afraid to tell people about it. But with Azriel at her side, she felt safer. His love and support made her feel more confident and comfortable in her own skin. She could be herself with him without any judgement.

And why shouldn’t she be proud of her success? She wrote these books! They were her babies!

"Alright, but I need to know what happens next!" Nesta told her, her grey eyes wide and desperate. "You left the book at such a cliffhanger!"

Sky laughed softly, feeling a little less self-conscious now that the cat was out of the bag. She turned back to the stove, stirring the pot once more.

"Maybe I c…can give you a s…spoiler or two," she offered, grinning. "But just this one time. Can't give e…everything away too easily now, can I?"

Nesta leaned in, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Please, please tell me," she begged. "I need to know what happens next!"

"Alright," Sky agreed, amused by Nesta's enthusiasm. "But you have to p…promise not to b…breathe a word of this to my publisher. She would kill me if they knew I was spilling the beans before the book is even published." 

Nesta nodded eagerly, making a zipping motion across her lips. "Your secret is safe with me."

"And we lost them," Cassian said drily.

Azriel laughed, "Can't compete with the author herself, Cass. Best to just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Nesta was lovely and Cassian was as loud and boisterous as Azriel had described him to be...and quite frankly, Sky loved Azriel's family. At least the two people that she had met.

"Was tonight...alright?" Azriel asked her softly as he pulled her into his arms that evening.

Sky smiled gently, leaning back into his embrace. She felt relieved that the night had gone well, and that Azriel's family had accepted her with open arms. 

"It was...better than alright," she replied softly, feeling a warmth in her heart. She caught his hand in hers, pulling it to her lips, so she could press a kiss to the simple gold band that encircled his ring finger.

Their wedding had been a spur of the moment decision a day ago...but Sky wouldn't have wanted it any other day. It was everything she had ever wanted. Just the two of them.

No need for a big production. 

Azriel's eyes softened, and he tightened his arms around her. "I'm glad," he murmured, the emotion in his voice palpable. He kissed the top of her head, holding her close. Neither of them said anything for a while, just holding each other in a comforting silence.

"We have the healer appointment tomorrow," Sky said softly.

Something Azriel had insisted on after their talk about having children. He was worried that the beautiful wings that sprouted from his back would mean a difficult pregnancy for her, an impossible birth…

Azriel just nodded, his face set in a grim expression. "We do," he replied, his voice tight. He was still grappling with his fears about the situation. "But no matter what, we'll face it together," he promised her fiercely.

Madja, that was the healer's name, put these fears to rest however.

"Quite frankly, it's unlikely that the child will be born with wings anyway," she told them after she had listened to Azriel's fears. "It will only be half Illyrian, after all"

"Nyx?" Azriel questioned pointedly. He had mentioned his nephew to her in this context, about him being born with wings which had nearly killed his High Fae mother throughout the birth. 

"There were....circumstances around his conception, you know that," Madja said drily. "Skylar is High Fae with a dash of River Nymph. Which quite frankly, could be a point in your favour anyway."

"How so?" Sky asked curiously.

"Your bones are...bendy," Madja told her drily. "Even if the child would inherit Azriel's wings...and would have them at birth...which is unlikely in itself, your pelvis would be able to...expand enough to have the baby pass through the birth canal. However, it is more likely that any child the two of you had would be similar to the other half-illyrian you know," she told Azriel pointedly. "Being able to summon the wings at will, just like Rhysand."

Just like the High Lord?

"Really?" Sky asked, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. Azriel also appeared visibly more relaxed. "So there's a chance that our child will be born without wings?"

Madja nodded in confirmation, giving them a slight smile. "Yes, there is," she said reassuringly. "But even if that isn't the case, your Nymph ancestry would make the birth easier for you."

Azriel's hand found Sky's, squeezing it gently. She could feel his relief mirroring her own. It was a weight lifted off their shoulders to know that their baby's birth might not be as difficult as they had feared.

It was calming. Like all the puzzle pieces were slowly putting themselves together. 

"Thank you, Madja," Sky said warmly. "For putting our minds at ease."

[wonryllis]

☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 

Word Count- 5.5k

Warnings- Swearing, violence, spoilers for canon, abusive dads, trauma, reader having bad responses to her trauma.

“Wait, you’re telling me that I miss ghosts coming back and terrorizing Damon just because I went to a doctor’s appointment?”

I deadpan at Ric as he looked over a bunch of pictures and drawings they had found in some mystery tunnel. 

“That’s what you get for going to the doctor,” Damon smirks at me as he and Elena spar. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Demon. Next time I just won’t get shot,” I shoot a glare at him and he rolls his eyes. Elena uses this moment to try to throw a punch at the vampire but Damon easily catches it. 

Elena sighs defeated and then turns to me, “How did your appointment go? Any good news?”

I roll my left shoulder and then shrug, “Nothing really new. The doctor did say I’m healing faster than anyone he’s seen before though,” This gains all three of their attention, “He chalked it up to my wonderful youth.”

“Well that’s good,” Elena smiles happily.

“And he said he liked my birthmark.”

“You have a birthmark?”

I look over to Ric who is looking at me questionably.

“Ya, she’s got like a smudge on her shoulder,” Damon jests and I glare at him.

“It’s not a smudge you asshat.”

“Don’t be mean Damon,” Elena defends me, “Personally I love Y/N’s birthmark. I think it’s cute. Almost looks kinda like the moon.”

I walk over to Elena and we both glare at the blue-eyed vamp who just rolls his eyes again. 

“Thank you, my love,” I look over to my best friend who is sporting a light pink tint to her cheeks at the nickname.

“Of course, my beautiful best friend,” Elena smiles back and we both giggle.

“Can y'all just kiss and get it over with,” Damon groans out.

“You wish you had a boyfriend the way I have my girlfriend, Damon. Your jealousy is oozing off of you,” I smile at the man and he purses his lips and then goes over to Ric.

A buzzing in my pocket has me separating from my friend and grabbing my phone. 

“Oh shit,” I whisper out and quickly grab my jacket off a nearby chair.

“Where are you going,” Elena asks to me as I book it to the front door.

“Theo’s tire popped and he’s supposed to be at practice in 2 minutes. So I have to go rescue him. Toddles!”

—

“Thanks for picking me up,” I groan as Theo grabs his football padding from the trunk of my car and puts them into my arms.

“Ya, whatever,” I struggle to carry it all as Theo closes the trunk and makes me follow him towards the school.

“Dude take your shit before I drop it,” I groan out to my brother who turns back and gives me a look before dramatically sighing and grabbing the gear from my hands.

“You need to start hitting weights. I’m bulking up this season so you can join me,” My brother says excitedly. 

I stare at him in disgust, “Oh ya cause that sounds like great sibling bonding time to me.”

“Do you know how many people would kill to be my sibling,” Theo asks and I shoot him a blank look.

“Many people, nerd. Many a people,” I fight the urge to laugh at my brother’s dramatics as his mood instantly brightens, “There’s the guys! I got to go, see you later nerd.” 

I stand there for a moment as I watch my brother run off to his teammates. Oddly enough though after going like 10 feet he stops and turns around. He quickly runs over to me and for a second I think he’s going to knock me down but instead, he balances his gear on one hand, and with the other he side-hugs me. 

“Even though other people want to be my sibling, I wouldn’t want any of those hoes,” Theo lets go of me and gives me a boyish grin, “You’re kind of a cool sister. Even if you are a nerd.”

Theo turns back around and I can’t fight the huge smile that comes over my face as I watch my little brother instantly start bickering with his teammates. 

“You guys have a cute relationship,” A feminine British voice makes my smile instantly drop.

“Hello Rebekah,” I turn around and come face to face with the pretty blonde Mikaelson. 

“That’s your little brother I assume. He looks just like you,” She smiles at me but I don’t return it.

“What do you want?”

Rebekah doesn’t seem to be unsettled by my prickly attitude as she continues talking. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch with me. Or perhaps go dress shopping? Homecoming is coming up and I’ve never been to one so I could use some help.”

My eyes narrow in confusion, “You’ve never been to a homecoming? Aren’t you like a million years old?”

Rebekah seems momentarily annoyed by my comment but quickly brushes it off, “I spent much of my life following my brothers around. Neither of which care for the dramatics that come with high school. So no, I haven’t been to a high school dance.”

I think about what she said for a moment and a smirk graces my lips at the thought of posh Elijah at a homecoming dance. 

“You’re not missing out on much,” I pick at the thread of my shirt, “I mean, not that I would know. I’ve never been to one either.”

At this Rebekah frowns, “You’ve never been! Why not?”

I shrug at Rebekah’s question, “Public places with tons of people aren’t really my thing. I’d rather be alone than be in a room with a bunch of drunk, loud teenagers.”

I move around the Original and start walking towards my car but inwardly groan when I hear her footsteps behind me.

“Great! Then we can experience it for the first time together!”

I bite my lip in anger and whip around, “What are you doing?”

Rebekah’s face morphs into one of confusion, “What do you mean?”

I gesture to her and then to me, “This! Why are you trying so hard to be around me? Did your brother put you up to this? He’s already making Alastair follow me around like a dog, so what about you?”

At my outburst, the girl frowns, “I heard about what my brother did. His ways of caring for people aren’t always shown in the best ways,” She smiles softly at me, “But I swear to you my brother didn’t put me up to this. I just…would like a friend…I would like you to be my friend.”

I look at Rebekah and try to find any signs of deceit in her face but I can’t seem to find any.

“You can’t just have friends, Rebekah. Friendships are built on trust. I can’t be friends with you unless you prove to me that I can trust you.”

Rebekah seems to take this as a approval as she quickly nods her head, “Great! Then I’ll just make you trust me. Can I have your phone number so I can text you? That’s what it is called right? I’m still quite new to this ages technology.”

I sigh and then reach out my hand and Rebekah smiles grabbing her phone from her pocket and placing it in my hand. I go to her contacts and type in my number and hand the phone back to the smiling blonde. 

I turn around and head to my car but hear the blonde call after me.

“I’ll text you!”

—

Rebekah wasn’t joking when she said she’d text me because approximately an hour later I’m pulling up to the Salvatore house because she practically begged me to meet her here.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

I turn around and spot Elena getting out of her SUV. 

“Rebekah asked me to come,” I frown at my friend’s worried expression, “What are you doing here?”

“She asked me to come as well.”

Elena and I warily eye each other for a moment before walking up to the front door. Elena goes first as she pushes the front door open and my ears are assaulted by loud pop music.

Elena shoots me a look over her shoulder and I shrug as we make our way into the foyer. We begin walking into the living room but stop when a smiling She-Klaus walks over to us with champagne in her hands.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You invited me over to talk,” Elena says from beside me, not matching Rebekah’s cheery attitude.

“I’m not exactly sure why I’m here,” I raise a finger.

Rebekah looks at us and then turns around, “Alright, girls. Have at it.”

I’m confused on who she’s talking to for a moment but then when a group of girls wearing homecoming dresses enter the living room in a line, I have my answer.

“What the hell,” I whisper to Elena who looks as shocked and confused as me. 

“Okay, now twirl, please,” Rebekah asks the girls and I watch in disgust as they all oblige.

“You’ve compelled your own private runway show?”

I nod along to Elena’s question because I’m also thinking the same.

“I need a homecoming dress. So what do you think? Pick one” Rebekah says as if this is totally normal behavior. 

“I know you’re new to this whole thing…and century. But most people just go to the store and try on the dresses. Not compel a bunch of innocent girls to parade around in them.”

Rebekah frowns at me. 

“We’re not here to help you shop. I’m here to talk about why you don’t want me to wake up Mikael.”

Rebekah smirks at Elena’s comment for a moment before flashing behind a blonde girl. I jump back slightly as I watch her fangs protrude from her gums as she puts them near the girl's throat. 

Elena takes a step forward and I follow.

“I said pick one, Elena.”

Elena looks a me for a moment before pointing to one of the girls, “The red one.”

“There,” Rebekah smooths out the blonde girl's hair, “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Go away. Remember nothing.”

I watch disturbed as the girls walk back out of the room and Rebekah comes back over to us. 

“You do not threaten me,” Rebekah stares Elena down and I move slightly in front of my friend, “You will learn what I allow you to learn. Is that clear?”

Elena nods from beside me and Rebekah moves around us and out of the room. Elena and I shoot each other another look before following the girl upstairs and into Stefan’s room where Rebekah is starting to go through the broody vampire’s things. 

“We shouldn’t be here,” Elena says standing next to me in the doorway.

“Of course, we should,” Rebekah says as she picks up a pair of boxers, making me frown in disgust, “Come on. Like you’ve never wanted to snoop. Boxer briefs. Now that’s a change from the ‘20s.”

“Ew. TMI.”

“Are you gonna root through his stuff all night or are you gonna start to tell us your story?”

Rebekah sighs, “You really are no fun,” She turns to me, “Why are you friends with such a bore?”

“One thing you should learn about me Rebekah,” I glare at the blonde, “I am not friends with people who insult my friends.”

Rebekah stares at me for a moment before rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath. 

“What do you want to know?”

Elena takes a step into the room, “Elijah said that your father was a landowner in Europe. How did you guys end up here?”

At the mention of the suited Original, a warm feeling brushes my cheeks.

“My parents had just started a family when a plague struck their homeland. They lost a child to it. They wanted to escape and protect their future family from the same fate.”

A wave of sadness washes over me at the mention of Rebekah losing her sibling. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I ever lost Theo. No matter how many headaches he gives me, the boy is practically my son.

“So how did you end up here,” Elena prods, “This part of the world hadn’t been discovered yet.”

Rebekah scoffs, “Not by anyone in your history books. But my mother knew the witch Ayana who heard from the spirits of a mystical land where everyone was healthy. Blessed by the gifts of speed and strength. That led my family here where we lived amongst those people.”

“The werewolves?”

“To us, they were just our neighbors. My family lived in peace with them for over 20 years during which my family had more children including me.”

“So… technically you’re American?” 

My question has both of the girls shooting me frowns but I lightly laugh at myself for the comment. 

“You make it sound so normal,” Elena comments. 

Rebekah walks towards a window and for a second I can see a thoughtful smile on her face, “It was. Once a month our family retreated to the caves underneath our village. The wolves would howl through the night and by morning we’d return home. One full moon, Klaus and my youngest brother Henrik snuck out to watch the men turn into beasts. That was forbidden. Henrik paid the price.”

A deep breath escapes my lips as the girl continues her story.

“And that was the beginning of the end of peace with our neighbors,” Rebekah turns back to look at us, “And one of the last moments my family had together as humans.”

The buzzing of Elena’s phone distracts us.

Rebekah coughs, “You better get that. That’ll be…Damon checking up on you.”

Elena turns around and answers the call as I walk over to Stefan’s desk and start rummaging through his things. I never said I was a Saint.

“Was that Stefan?’’

Elena’s question has me turning around and frowning. 

“Damon, how could you let him out,” Elena exclaims and I frown.

“That didn’t sound good.”

—

“Did you get your fill of snooping yet,” Elena asks Rebekah who is lying down on Stefan’s bed reading one of his many diaries, “Can we get on with the story?”

I watch from my seat on the floor as Rebekah throws the book onto the bed and stands up. She walks over to the desk by Elena and picks up a framed picture of the couple. 

“Honestly, I don’t get you two as a couple,” Rebekah shakes her head at my friend. 

“Why would you? You don’t know anything about who he really is,” Elena defends and Rebekah smiles at her and puts the frame back down. 

Rebekah leans down to make eye contact with my friend and I straighten up, “I know exactly who he is. He’s a vampire. We’re a predatory species. We don’t have time to care about humans and their silly little lives.”

“I don’t believe that,” I say but they don’t hear me. Or at least don’t acknowledge me. 

“Is that why you did that runway show earlier,” Elena snarks back and I bite my lip nervously as I have the feeling that a catfight is about to begin, “Because you don’t care about the homecoming dance?”

Rebekah stands up and Elena nods at her, “You know what? I’m just gonna go,” She turns to me, “Y/N you coming?”

I groan as I can practically hear my bones creaking as I stand up.

“You haven’t even heard half the story,” Rebekah calls to Elena. 

Elena turns around to her, “And you’re not going to tell it. You’re just bored and looking for someone to push around. Find someone else to play with. Maybe you can compel yourself a friend.”

OOP.

“The necklace wasn’t Stefan’s to give,” At Rebekah’s words I instantly sit my ass back down. This time on the comfy mattress. 

“It belonged to the original witch.”

Elena turns around, “The one who put the hybrid curse on Klaus?”

“Not just the hybrid curse. She’s the one who turned us into vampires.”

My mouth drops open, “Bomb drop…”

—

“Vampirism was a form of protection?”

Elena asks as Rebekah continues telling her story as we make our way down the stairs. 

“What else would it be?”

“A curse.”

“My parents only sought a way of keeping their children alive,” Rebekah answers.

“Yeah, but why stay? If they were so afraid of the werewolves why not leave?”

“Pride,” Rebekah says as she steps off the last stair and turns back to us, “My father didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to fight and be superior to the wolves. Where they could bite we had to bite harder. Where they had speed we had to be faster. Agility, strength, senses.’’

Rebekah continues telling us the story of how the spell of vampirism came down to her mother’s hands since the other witch wouldn’t help them.

“In her hands? How could she do anything?”

Elena asks and I feel like I already know the answer. I mean if they’re called “The Originals,” I’m assuming the “Original” witch has something to do with them.

“Because my mother was also a witch.”

“What?”

“The witch of the original family.”

“The original witch,” I finish for her and Rebekah smirks at me.

We make our way into the living room and I plant myself on my favorite couch. 

“Where do they keep their best vintage,” Rebekah asks. 

“But if your mother was a witch then..”

“Am I? No,” The vampire finishes, “A witch is nature’s servant. A vampire is an abomination of nature. You can either be one or the other never both,” Rebekah fishes out a bottle of wine and then turns to Elena, “My mother did this for us. She did not turn.”

“How did you turn?”

Rebekah pours herself a glass and then walks over to the fireplace, “She called upon the sun for life and the ancient white oak tree one of nature’s eternal objects, for immortality. That night, my father offered us wine laced with blood.”

I almost gag at that.

“And then he drove his sword through our hearts.”

My heart clenches as Rebekah’s voice slightly cracks. 

“He killed you,” Elena says.

“And he wasn’t delicate about it either,” Rebekah says with tears and her eyes and quickly breaks the cap off the wine bottle. 

“We had to drink more blood to complete the ritual. It was euphoric. The feeling of power was indescribable. But the witch Ayana was right about consequences. The spirits turned on us and nature fought back. For every strength, there would be a weakness. The sun became our enemy. It kept us indoors for weeks. Although my mother found a solution. There were other problems. Neighbors who had opened their homes for us could now keep us out. Flowers at the base of the white oak burned and prevented compulsion. And the spell decreed that the tree that gave us life could also take it away. So we burned it to the ground.”

Metal.

“But the darkest consequence is something my parents never anticipated. The hunger. Blood had made us reborn and it was blood that we craved above all else. We could not control it. And with that… the predatory species was born.”

“I need a cigarette,” I say out loud as I sigh into my hands at the migraine of an origin story.

“Why did Mikael start hunting Klaus,” Elena asks not giving anyone time to catch their breaths. 

“When Nik made his first human kill,” Nik? “It triggered his werewolf gene. With that, he came my father’s greatest shame.”

“Yeah,” Elena responds, “Elijah told us this part of the story. Your mother had had an affair with one of the werewolf villagers.”

I look down at my hands as Elena and Rebekah continue speaking about Klaus’ father and I have to fight back showing any emotion as I think back to my own father, or not father I guess. 

“She tried to make it right. She put the hybrid curse on Nik to suppress his werewolf side and then she turned her back on him. But Mikael’s greatest weakness as a human was his pride. As a vampire that was magnified. He went on a rampage and killed half the village.”

Here, I thought my father leaving his family was the worst thing one could do in that situation. 

“Then he came home and killed her.”

“Mikael killed your mother?”

“He said she broke his heart so he would hers. He tore it from her chest as Nik watched. Afterwards, my father took off in a rage and the rest of my family scattered. Nik stayed so he could help me bury her. He knew I had to say goodbye to my mother.”

I listen to the rest of Rebekah’s heartbreaking story as she recalls how she and Elijah promised Klaus that the three of them would always be together. Always and forever. 

“Always and forever. Even though he locked you in a coffin for 90 years,” Elena says and I shoot a look at her.

“Dude, really?”

“We’re vampires. Our emotions are heightened. I’m stubborn, Elijah moral, and Nik…Nik has no tolerance for those who disappoint him. Over a thousand years as a family we’ve all made that mistake at least once. I’ve made it several times.”

As Rebekah’s voice softens I have to fight the urge to reach out and comfort her. Being someone who knows what it feels like to be the one disappointing a family member, I can’t help but relate and feel sorry for the girl.

“But you still love him?”

“He’s her brother, Elena,” I turn to her, “What if it were Jeremy? I know that if it were Theo, I couldn’t hate him. Even if he made my life a living hell.”

“She’s right,” Rebekah looks over to me and I can see the appreciation in her eyes, “And I’m immortal. Should I spend an eternity alone instead?”

Rebekah swallows and I think she’s about to start crying but she quickly walks by both of us, “You’ve heard the story. It’s time to go,” She turns to Elena who is just standing there, “I said leave, Elena! I don’t know what you’re up to but I am no longer playing along.”

“I’m just looking for one good reason why we shouldn’t wake Mikael.”

At Elena’s words I frown, “Are you serious Elena? The man literally killed his own children! After, abusing them their whole lives. You may have grown up in a white-picket fence family, but I didn’t. I know men like that, and men like that should stay away.”

Elena looks at me and from the look on her face, she doesn’t seem to understand why I’m defending Rebekah.

“She will anyway,” Rebekah shakes her head, “I know you want him to help you kill my brother. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s no secret that I want Klaus dead. He has a hold over Stefan’s life and over mine,” Elena points back to me, “And he’s terrorizing Y/N.”

Rebekah glares down at her, “Do what you need. Wake Mikael at your own peril. But make no mistake. If you come after my brother I will rip you apart. And I get my temper from my father. Now leave.”

Elena looks down and then back to me, “Y/N, come on.”

I look at my friend and then at the vampire, “You go. I have to talk to Rebekah.”

This seems to shock both of them, but I just stare at them blankly. Elena takes this as goodbye as she nods her head and leaves the house. 

After Elena leaves Rebekah and I stand there in silence for a moment, and awkwardly I clear my throat.

“Um, I’m sorry.”

Rebekah looks over to me confused, “What are you sorry for? You did nothing to insult me, unlike your friend.”

I frown at Elena’s behavior and then play with the loose thread on my shirt, “For losing your brother. And your mother. You were just a teenage girl when that happened. You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you.”

Rebekah stares at me almost shocked before she shakes her head and walks over to the couch I’m sitting on. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was over a thousand years ago, I’m over it.”

Rebekah sits on the seat next to me and we watch the flames of the fire.

“I don’t believe that. I think a loss like that stays with you. Even after a millennia.”

Rebekah turns to look at me and then nods her head softly, “Thank you, Y/N.”

We continue sitting in silence before I see her move out of the corner of my eye.

“What did you mean,” I turn to her in confusion as she speaks, “When you told Elena you didn’t grow up like she did and you knew about men like my father?”

At Rebekah’s question, I turn away from her curious glance and look back towards the flames, “It doesn’t matter.”

“You can tell me you know? It’s not like I have any other friends to go spill your secrets to.” 

At Rebekah’s words, I bite down hard on my lip to try to stop the tears that are making their way into my eyes. The urge to finally spill on the secret that I’ve been holding in all summer, building inside of me. 

“My father…growing up wasn’t the kindest man,” I say out loud trying to be careful with my words, “He was absent a lot but… those were the good moments, oddly enough, because, whenever he did come home… he was,” I stop, trying to find the right words to describe my estranged “not” father, “he was harsh. Nothing was ever good enough for him. No one was ever good enough for him. Certainly not me. He was the stereotypical macho man who thought that women weren’t equal to men. So whenever I showed strength in something, he made sure to kick me back down. Just to remember how weak I could be.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until Rebekah places a tissue into my hands. I’m not really sure where she got it but I take it and wipe away my tears.

“You mention him in past tense…is he…” 

I shake my head, “No, he’s not dead. He and my mother separated about two years ago. I haven’t seen him since.”

Rebekah doesn’t say anything as she waits to see if I’ll continue and I sigh as I try to.

“I didn’t know why they did. My mother always just kind of let it happen you know? The abuse. I don’t even know if you would call it that. It’s not like he hit me or whatever. Others have had it worse. My mother though just always told me not to provoke him, not to make him mad. But, she really wasn’t ever the one who got the brunt of it,” I bite down on my lip harder, “And you want to know the worst thing about it? Three months ago my mother told me that the man that had made me cry into my pillow since I was 8 years old… wasn’t even my actual father.”

I hear Rebekah let in a breath as she continues watching me.

“How fucked up is that, you know,” I laugh with tears in my eyes at the irony of it all.

“Did she tell you who your real father was?”

I shake my head at her question, “Just the bare minimum. I’ve barely talked to her since that day anyway. It’s the reason I have my own room down the hall,” I point towards the direction of my room at the Salvatore’s, “Damon’s let me crash here the entire summer. He’s the only other person who knows.”

“Not even your brother?”

I quickly shake my head and wipe the rest of my tears away, “Especially not, Theo. He’s so young and with the move and everything I don’t want him to be stressed out.” 

I can see Rebekah looking at me as if she’s trying to find the right words to say, “Is that the only reason you haven’t told him?’’

My eyebrows furrow as I keep staring at the fireplace, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you’re worried that he won’t accept you. Nik had that same fear after he found out he wasn’t Mikael’s.”

“I am not Klaus,” I bite out and she just nods.

“I know. But you can’t deny the similarities,” I don’t say anything as I try not to think of her words, “I know I haven’t been here very long but… just from seeing Theo and you a few times, I don’t think you have to worry about telling him. If he truly loves you he’ll accept you no matter what.”

I finally think about Rebkeah’s words and in doing so, don’t even notice the front door being swung open. 

Rebekah sighed deeply from beside me as she stood up, “I thought I told you to leave twice.”

“How do you know Mikael killed your mother,” Elena’s question has me turning slightly to hear her better.

“Nik was there,” Rebekah says as she pours herself a drink, “He told me.”

Elena sighs and she steps closer to Rebekah, “He lied to you.”

“And how do you know that?”

Elena walks over to us and I put my face down slightly so she can’t see the dried tears on my cheeks.

“The cave where you carved your family’s names, is covered in symbols. The story of your family. How your parents arrived, how they made peace, the spell that turned them into vampires, and this,” She places a photograph on the table, “This is the symbol for hybrid. It’s the combination of the werewolf and the vampire symbol. And this is the one for your mother.”

“Her necklace.”

Elena sighs, “And this is the story of her death. The hybrid killed the original witch. Not Mikael, Klaus.”

I turn fully at them both. Surprise is most likely clear on my face.

“No,” Rebekah forcefully shakes her head, “No, he wouldn’t.”

“She put the curse on him, made it so that he would be the only one of his kind and then she rejected him. With the werewolf gene comes aggression and violence. When he turned all of that was heightened. He killed her, Rebecca, and then he made up this entire lie about your father so that he wouldn’t lose you.” 

“These mean nothing. They’re just stupid drawings done by stupid people who had no idea who my family was,” Rebekah yells as she grabs the pictures and flings them into the fireplace. 

Elena approaches her, “Then why are you so upset?”

“Elena stop, just leave her alone,” I tell my friend but she ignores me. 

“Why are you doing this to me? I’ve done nothing to you,” Rebekah yells at her.

“Klaus killed your mother. He has a hold on you, on me, on everyone. He has for a thousand years. We have to make it stop!”

“Shut up! Just shut up! Don’t talk anymore! Nothing!”

I quickly stand up as Rebekah pushes Elena into the wall forcefully. 

“Rebekah!” 

After a moment Rebekah drops her hands and stands there silently with tears in her eyes. Elena and I watch cautiously but not even a moment later a sob escapes the blonde’s mouth as she drops to her knees. Elena looks over to me and I shake my head at her. 

“Go.”

I don’t even check to see if she leaves as I kneel down to the sobbing girl. I place a comforting hand on her shoulder and I gasp as I’m being pulled into a hug. Rebekah holds onto me for dear life as she cries into my shoulder. And I let her. 

—

I sigh as I throw my keys onto my kitchen table and sit down. I put my head in my hands and try to forget the shitshow that was tonight. 

“Damn bitch!”

Theo’s screech has me whipping around in my chair in shock. My brother stands there in his satin pajamas he got for Christmas last year with a hand over his heart.

“Fucking sitting in the dark like some goddamn stalker,” Theo walks over to the light switch and I try to stop him but it’s too late.

Theo’s smirk instantly drops as he rushes over to me and places his hands on the sides of my face, “What happened? Did someone say something to you? If it was someone at school tell me and I and Jeremy will go beat their asses right now.”

My brother’s angry tone has me smiling for a moment but before I can stop it tears are streaming out of my eyes and a sob escapes my mouth.

My little brother just stands there awkwardly as he pats my shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it? Um, should I call Elena or Mom?”

At the mention of our mother, I quickly shake my head, “No. I’m fine. Just a long day and all. I just need some sleep. Go back to bed, Theodore.”

Theo shakes his head and tries to deny my request but I shoo him away. As I watch his retreating figure I sigh and take a deep breath.

“Actually Theo…there’s something we need to talk about.”

[amazinglyashy]

hellow ash! Dropping here since I got hooked from the last post ehe. If it's okay...idk if its OOC but, can you do some shorts or fic on like mc just wanting a peaceful, quiet life? away from fighting or mental battle. Esp Raf and Sy, they canonly seem to be the ones with most hard-core agenda. What if MC just want peace, yet entangled with them is sureway of NOT having that life? can they make it happen? or will they just shield mc in her dream fantasy life while they battle the real world? as we know even mc herself is already target from many unwanted people...so how?? idk sorry for ramblinggg😫😫😫

(its kinda personal since if I could, I'd just live in a small town with a garden like harvest moon game, away from stress and ambitious grasp of capitalism, buttt yea that's a dream only 🥲🙃)

I'm a firm believer that MC is however me and my readers/requesters make them, so no worries about OOC here :D also don't ever worry about rambling, I always love your comments on my posts and works 😭😭❤️ I did my best, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS men when all you want is to live a quiet life -

Sylus -

He knows his way in and out of the world, and every which way to get what he wants. Still, knowing your wishes-

It's hard.

Not because it's not conducive in your relationship, no- he'd give you the world if you so much as asked him. But it is a bit... difficult, to say the least, trying to figure out how to acquire you the life you seem desperate for.

He does understand your reasoning, though.

He would do his best to first make some of his more rural safe houses even more habitable- style choices that fit your tastes, a nook for you to relax in or do work, and anything you could think of that would help with your hobbies. Those houses become your little retreat, and they always have anything you could ever want stocked to the brim.

Luke and Kieran visit you often, or will occasionally take you elsewhere for a day out in town or further in the city. Unbeknownst to you, it's usually when someone has been targeting you and Sylus is... taking care of it behind your back.

Even if he can't stop his work after being so deep after all these years- even if he can't stop the people who are constantly targeting you for simply existed- he's going to do absolutely everything within his power to ensure you get to live the life you have chosen.

Especially with him.

Zayne -

All he wants in life is to help you find your peace.

That's all.

If living a quiet life is what helps you achieve that, then he's all for it.

He may sheepishly admit to you just how worried your Hunter's Association job would make him, wondering if the next gurney wheeled into his operating room would be you after a particularly grueling battle, or after running into the wrong person who had been after you for what nestled within your heart.

So this is definitely a plus to him.

By extension, he's also perfectly fine if you want to be stay-at-home. He makes more than enough as a surgeon to support the both of you extremely comfortably, and he knows that life really... hasn't been the kindest to you.

He's used to a bit of a commute, just trying to fight out of his driveway in the city center, so if you want to live somewhere further out in order to have space to garden, he'll figure out how to make it a reality for you.

Sometimes, he'll come home with something new for you- a type of seed for the coming season, a new book, some fresh supply for a craft you've been working on- anything, and he takes a lot of pleasure in seeing the smile break across your face whenever he does.

Rafayel -

Oh that's easy. Four words-

Beach house + Sea God.

Easy.

Hearing your wish surprises him a little, but it's nothing if not relieving to him.

He's spent forever, and then again, just trying to find you and also ensure your safety- from both up close, and from afar. It's difficult with how much trouble you get yourself into, and with the trouble you don't get yourself into that just seems to find you.

Honestly, this just makes his life so much easier.

Rafayel is so used to soloing against people looking to do you harm or bring trouble to you, so this isn't too much different than what he used to do before you two met again. And if you come to live with him along the seaside, it's that much easier for him.

He's in his element, so discovering anything insidious lurking near is easy, and he can usually take care of the issue long before it could ever reach you, much less get to you and you finally getting to have a breather in life.

One of his favorite things is a quiet day at home with you, sitting high on a ladder as he works on another giant painting, working towards the top just so that he can peer out the window- he loves watching you work on the garden boxes he bought for you, even if you don't notice him yourself.

Xavier -

He's bared witness to everything you've been through- at least the worst of it. Anything he hasn't, you've definitely brought him up to speed with nervous laughs and late night conversation when the two of you were awake past when you should be.

So he knows.

He knows you mean it when you tell him your wish.

He also knows you more than deserve it.

Xavier will smile it off easily, asking you if that isn't already what you've been doing with him- snuggling during the colder months on the couch in his apartment, waiting for him to finish his assignments and come home to a half-finished movie and a stale bowl of popcorn you fell asleep eating. The butter was tacky now like the tips of your fingers against the blanket he'll need to wash tomorrow as he picks you up to take you to bed.

Living somewhere out of the city is doable to him, and he'll let you pick the place. Occasional visits into the city are a necessity, though- how else is he going to supply Jerimiah with the harvests from your gorgeous garden if not? It's a nice little living, in addition to whatever Xavier brings in.

It also helps him really appreciate the smaller things in life. He never really knew how much he would love dancing in the kitchen as the sun sets through the window, until now.

[studiogrimm810]

Agitated

pairings/characters: (pining)dean winchester x gn!reader

summary: you know you're outmatched for a hunt so you call up bobby for some help but instead he sends dean. now you're forced to deal with his cocky attitude and still somehow get this hunt done. this man will be the death of you

warnings: bickering and annoyance, some blood and a fight scene, fadeaway to sex but nothing too graphic

word count: 5,121

A/N: this is a request!!! oh my god i could not stop writing this. i really hope i captured the pure annoyance they have for each other and also framed it into some steamy sexual tension,, idk, lmk how feel about this one!! :):)

———————

This is the worst. The absolute worst. You knew better than to try and go at this hunt alone but you seriously think you’d reconsider if you knew this was the outcome. You got here early, getting a motel room for yourself and eating lunch while waiting for him. Ugh. Him.

There was a nest of at least half a dozen vamps camped out nearby that you’ve been tracking for a while but you’re out of your league here so you called Bobby.

Ah, Bobby. How you loved him. He was quite the mentor for you when you lost your mother. He showed you the ropes, gifted you a car he pieced together on his lot, and offered a listening ear when you needed it. So of course, when you need help, you call him.

Except this time he’s busy so he sends, what he calls his ‘second-best’, Dean fucking Winchester.

God. You had asked if there really wasn’t anyone else he could send but he insisted that Dean was the best he could do. Bobby and Sam apparently were deep into some research for whatever apocalypse they’ve got on their plate now and they could spare Dean for the sake of your safety. Dean needed to hunt anyways, he itched to get back into action.

So now, halfway through rage eating your lunch, you hear the familiar rumble of Dean’s trademark gas-guzzler and plant your face in your hands. If you wanted to successfully complete this hunt then you needed to just take a deep breath and shove aside your irritations.

You finish your lunch and wait for the text or call saying that he’s got a room and is ready to regroup. That call came a lot sooner than expected.

“Hey, Dean,” you greet indifferently.

“Heya, sweetheart,” you can hear his sarcastic smirk and it makes you roll your eyes, “listen, I’ve kinda got a problem here.”

“What?” You try, but fail, to keep the bite out of your voice.

“Motel’s all booked up and the only other one is across town, looks like I’ll have to bunk with you.” God- of course.

“You’re kidding,” you internally groan, biting your tongue.

“Wish I was, sweetheart,” you can hear his own stifled sigh.

“Don’t call me that,” you scold, standing to go to the door and properly greet him. You open the door and he’s leaning against the hood of his car, pocketing his phone and plastering a fake smirk. You’ve noticed he knows how to make you tick. It usually starts as a feigned sweetness but soon sours as you aren’t receptive. He claims he’s trying to keep the peace between you two but you claim he’s full of shit.

“Whatever, princess,” he uses more sarcastically, as if it’s such a high request to ask to be addressed by your own name. “Hope you’ve got the room ‘cause I’m not sleeping on any floors,” Dean states, rounding his car to get his bags out of the trunk.

Fuck. You could shoot yourself if you had the fucking gun.

“Yeah, about that,” you fold your arms over your chest, squinting from the blinding sunlight you’re forced to face to keep looking at him as he moves. Fucking dick.

“No,” Dean demands, his shoulders slacking from lack of effort to keep his bags held. Yep, he’s pissed.

“I never have to share a motel, Dean!” You shrug with an annoyed bitchface. “I’m not all ‘buddy-buddy’ like you and Sam are. I like my privacy.” You squint at him like that’s a dig and not really a chip at your own lonely ego.

“Well I call the bed sweetheart, you can take the couch,” Dean grumbles, scrunching his nose in a mocking manner as he walks past you and into the motel.

Regardless, this was the last room the motel had so it’s not your fault there’s just one bed.

———

“So, you think they’re camped out here?” Dean asks, looking at the map with his arms crossed over his chest. You nod, nibbling on the end of a pen.

“I’ve been tracking them for a while- it’s their kinda hideout,” you add, thinking of different ways to approach this. Dean turns back as if to say something but rolls his eyes at you.

“That’s disgusting,” he points loosely like the oral act isn’t even worth the energy to spotlight.

“Good thing it’s not your pen,” you retort, looking back down at your laptop and refreshing the local news. Dean just scoffs, walking over to the small fridge provided by the motel.

“No beer?” He baffles.

“I’m not an enabler,” you sass, finding it your current life’s mission to kick him at any turn. God, the nerve to come into your room, make his snippy comments at your fidgets, and bash you for not keeping beer on tap like a fucking bartender. You couldn’t wait for this to be over.

“And I’m not an alcoholic.”

Ha, yeah okay.

You scroll around the 3D map on your laptop, looking for different access points of the rundown building but the shitty satellite rendering is too blurry and bubbly to really make anything out.

“Seriously? That’s what you’ve been wasting your time with?” Dean raises a brow.

“I’m checking my bases, Dean, back off,” you groan, leaning back in your chair and rubbing a hand down your face.

“Just sayin’, you’ll get more info first hand, princess, may as well just get on with it,” Dean insists, “not like we have any way to pass the time,” he’s not letting this beer thing go.

“Fine! Let’s just go, guns blazing,” you sit up, scooting back your chair with the force of which you popped up. You go to ruffle through your bag, grabbing a long sleeve shirt to slip over your tank top.

“You’re gonna be cold,” Dean says plainly.

“Shut up,” you shoulder-check him on the way out.

———

The sun is starting to set, casting a beautiful golden haze across the horizon. You two are headed north so thankfully the sun isn’t blinding your peripheral but instead Dean’s.

The drive is quiet other than the hum of some 80s band, or whatever it is Dean is obsessed with, on the radio. It’s weird, you don’t know why your hatred for Dean blossomed so naturally but it just did. Since the second you were disappointed to find that that is who was the sweet Sam Winchesters brother you’ve been irked by just the reminder of his presence.

He probably started it anyway.

The Impala starts to slow as you two come up to the hidden gravel drive for the abandoned building on Dean’s GPS. The rumble of gravel crunching under the tires is a satisfying dig in your ears.

Dean parks the Impala so you two can go the rest of the way on foot. You both gear up and sneak along the tree line until the building is in sight. It’s an old rangers station- blanketed with moss and vines, shards of glass poking out of crunched window frames, entrance doors missing- it looked completely vacant.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say your hunch was wrong,” Dean straightens out of his pre-fight stance. You don’t offer him a response, you just step past him to the entrance to see if there’s even a hint of this being the right place.

There’s nothing.

God, how could you be so stupid? You felt a pit of embarrassment swirl its way around your insides. You couldn’t confront Dean right now. You couldn’t deal with his sarcastic quips.

You have to though, you have to face him to get back to the Impala and back to your shared room. This was torture.

What if more people get hurt because you didn’t find the right spot? The longer you sit and stew the more likely that is to be true. You have to just keep your head on straight and find the next lead.

So with that, you spin on your heel and head back to the Impala. “I don’t wanna hear it,” you mumble as you pass him, this time shifting your shoulder out of the way so you don’t bump into him.

You miss the way Dean’s features soften with understanding and guilt and he decides to keep his mouth shut.

The drive back for you was thick with tension. Your mind ran with how to go about the situation next. What lead to follow and what instincts to trust because apparently this one was wrong.

The drive back for Dean, however, was different. He kept the music to a volume he knew wouldn’t bother you as much and he drummed along to the beat on his steering wheel with his fingers casually, hoping the common habit of his will show that he’s not angry and how you shouldn’t blame yourself so much. That even if it feels as detrimental as it does that in reality it’s not a big deal but just a failed lead.

He doesn’t use his words though. He’s offering common decency and not pleasantries.

You’re quick to duck into the motel as soon as the car is in park and recenter yourself at the drawing board.

Dean hesitates, finding it annoying how much you’re beating yourself up over this. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Maybe it’s because he understands the guilt of not being good enough. Maybe it’s because he just doesn’t want to be around some mopey child. Maybe he doesn’t have to know.

“There have been a few disappearances- the last location they were all seen is this bar. Maybe we could start there,” you’re starting to doubt yourself.

“I agree,” Dean nods from behind you. You turn to look at him, a little taken back by his compliance. No shoving and no pushback.

“Really?” You cock a brow, still finding it odd that he hasn’t bashed you more for your screw up earlier.

“Yeah, I think that’s the next step,” Dean repeats, the annoyance of having to do so showing in his tone. You squint slightly as if waiting for him to say something else but he doesn’t.

“Fine, let’s go,” you walk right back out of the room and to the Impala, not bothering with your jacket or keys.

Dean snatches your keys from the kitchen table and locks up the room. You could thank him but why thank him for locking a door? It’s not like he did anything special.

The bar was in the middle of town so the drive consisted of a lot of turns but was still rather swift. You reach for the door knob but Dean stops you.

“What?” You ask defensively.

“That look normal to you?” Dean points, not matching your tone. What is up with him?

You follow his point, finding a couple making out against the side of the brick building. They look drunk and disoriented but nothing too out of the ordinary for a Friday night outside of a bar.

“He’s faking,” Dean adds, keeping his eyes on the couple but taking your silence as confusion. “He’s not drunk.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Watch,” he leans in a little closer to see them from your angle. “When she kisses his neck he loses his ‘daze’. You can see him scan-, there!” He cuts himself off as the man across the parking lot does exactly what Dean is describing. You look a little closer now, seeing a slimy smirk lift the man’s lips as he grabs the woman with a bit more force.

“Dammit,” you mumble, straightening up in your seat a bit. Before either of you can get out of the car in time, the woman is shoved into a nearby truck and the man climbs in after. Dean fires up the engine and follows the truck from a safe distance.

You beat yourself down a bit, wondering how you managed to miss something so clear. You would’ve overlooked them without a second thought and they turned out to be your next lead. Were you really this bad of a hunter? Maybe Dean was right to have such little trust in you.

“How damn cold do you keep this car?” You hound, wrapping your arms over your chest to try and churn some warmth over yourself.

“I told you you’d be cold,” you could hear the eye-roll without even looking at him. You stare out the window, Dean still staying on the truck's tail.

A few moments pass and you continue to ignore him. “God, if you’re gonna pout about it,” he adjusts, grabbing a spare flannel of his from the back seat, “here.”

“I’m not pouting,” you scoff.

“Sure you’re not. Just take it,” he shoves it in your lap and you hesitate to touch it. “I’m not diseased, princess, you can borrow my clothes. Won’t kill ya’.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, grabbing the flannel and slipping it over your arms. The cloth settles over your skin like a warm blanket and you have to force yourself to ignore how much it smells like him. You feel a need to thank him again but seriously, was it really that special or was he just doing the bare minimum? Or perhaps you were too embarrassed to thank him because doing so would admit that you didn’t entirely dread his presence.

Dean glances over to make sure you actually put it on and hasn't discarded one of his favorite flannels- which he would take as an act of war quite frankly- but is a little stunned to see how homey it makes you look. You're practically drowning in the tarp of cloth, but the way it melts with your skin catches his eyes for a bit too long. To see your hair settle over the pattern like a claim makes him want to never look away.

But he has to because he’s driving and just nicked the rumble strips.

“Driving at night is hard, huh?” You tease, “heard it gets that way with old age.”

“Hey! I’m not that much older than you,” he defends, forcing his eyes in the road ahead and the truck to follow. He can’t let himself wonder why you caught his attention so intensely or why he’s itching to look back for another peek.

Finally, after what felt like years to Dean, the truck turns off into a driveway of an older farm house. Dean drives past and parks off the side of the road around a turn where they won’t be spotted.

Now it’s time to really gear up, but this time it’s a little different. Dean finds himself wanting to make extra sure that you’re set and that you have any possible weapon you might need.

“Stay close, don’t split up under any circumstance,” Dean instructs. He hadn’t done that last time and you want to combat him because who is he to tell you what to do? But the wind brushing over you too carries his scent past your nose again and it’s almost like it shuts you up completely. You just nod in response.

The night sky rained over you two, soft pelts of misty rain dampening your clothes and you’re now really starting to feel thankful for the offered flannel, maybe you should’ve said something. But as you near the home, you reckon it’s not the right time to mention a lousy ‘thanks’ for such a simple offer.

Dean picks the lock of the back door and you follow him in, machete in hand. You can hear voices and laughter flowing from what you guess to be the main room. Dean halts right along the door frame, ducking in to count what they’re up against, he holds up 3 fingers to you and you nod.

On his signal, you both pounce.

The fight is brutal on your muscles since you often forget just how strong vamp’s are. The one you’re up against is at least a foot taller than you and is bulkier than is really fair, but you use the advantage of being smaller to slip out of his grasp and decapitate him from behind.

Dean is next to take care of his opponent and now it’s two against one. The vamp comes after you first, probably thinking you’re a quicker target, but Dean intercepts and slams the vamp

against a wall. You take this opportunity to go to the woman from earlier who is huddled in a corner, watching in horror as this happens.

Thankfully, she is physically unharmed and the adrenaline of the situation has burned through the alcohol she had ingested.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you shake your head with arms braced to show you aren’t a threat. “Can you walk?” You ask. She nods. “Good, okay,” you reach over to the pocket of one of the vamps, seeing a set of keys hooked to his belt loop, and hand the keys to her. “The truck outside. Take it and go- now.”

She snatched the keys and bolts. You breathe a breath of relief at how easy it was to get her out of here. You turn to see that Dean is still fighting the creature and you jump to your feet, approaching them. You bring up your weapon but the vamp sees you in time and shoves you hard. You stumble into a dusty china cabinet and hear Dean call your name. The impact rattles through your body but you have to help. You have to.

Getting to your feet takes a moment, but a pained gasp sets you with a fresh rush of adrenaline. The vamp has latched its teeth into Dean’s neck. He’s paralyzed with pain, raspy breaths barely escaping his gaped lips. That’s all the fucking power you need. You ram into the vamp, getting him to unhook his jaw and throwing him to the ground. In the blood drunken haze, you’re able to rid of its head with a quick swipe of your machete.

Dean groans, sliding against the wall and you drop your weapon, running to him.

“Hey-, you’re okay,” you speak before you have enough evidence to believe it. “You with me?”

“Y-Yeah,” he pants, his head going slack on the side he wasn’t bitten. It’s deep.

“Okay, hold on,” you say, reaching down to rip off a good portion of your shirt to cover the bleeding. He reaches out to stop you. “Don’t worry, it’s not your precious flannel I’m tearing up,” you actually joke. Not as a mock or tease but as an actual joke that you smile for to show your lightheartedness.

“With you? I’d never know what to believe,” he comes back. He doesn’t seem to have enough energy to smile but you can tell the initial joke was receptive.

He hisses as you press the cloth against his wound, your other hand cupping his cheek to keep him in place. His intense screw of pain seems to melt a bit under your touch.

“We gotta get you outta here, big guy,” you pat his cheek lightly, trying to keep him present. “How dizzy you are, can you walk?” You ask, unsure of how much blood he’s lost.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he slurs. Dumbass.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” you huff, removing your free hand to grab his own hand. You swear he whined when you did so, but it was so quiet and could’ve been excused as a draw of pain. “Hold tight, okay?” You instruct. You knew if he had enough energy he would be batting you away and demanding he knew how to handle a wound like this and it almost worries you that he’s not. “C’mon,” you snake your arm around his back, lifting him the best you can and thankfully he works with you. You’re really gonna have to start saying your thanks out loud.

You lead him out the front door and curse as the rain has picked up. You can’t walk him through this- between the blood loss and getting wet, he’ll freeze. You set him in a semi-stable looking chair and use your hands to steady his face. The reaction he gives you when your skin lands on his stirs a curiosity in you.

“Wait here, keep applying pressure, I’m gonna get the car,” you enunciate so he can really hear you.

“Ain’t no way in hell I’m letting you drive my baby,” he slurs but you're already fishing through his leather jacket pockets.

“Try and stop me, pretty boy,” you say it as a tease- reprimand for the nicknames he’s bugged you with- but it rolls off your tongue with more meaning than you intended.

He doesn’t fight you as you head off to the hidden location of the Impala. The rain drenched you quickly but you don’t let that slow you down. Dean needs you.

Dean would fight more- he really would. If this were a situation where you needed him or Sammy needed him, he could fight past the haze of blood loss. He could drive his own damn car to safety. If he really needed to, he’s sure his body could supply enough adrenaline to power him through his own petty pain. But that’s just it. He doesn’t need to, and in all reality he can’t but it’s just that if he convinces himself that he’s choosing to let you take care of him then that’s less embarrassing then failing you.

He forces on his consciousness, waiting for the familiar growl of his precious Baby. His chariot to take him far from here and to shelter him in times of need.

And there it is.

He peels his eyes open enough to see you emerge for his car and goddamn. Your clothes are wet and stuck against your skin- his flannel hugging your torso like he should be. To see you in his clothes and in the driver's seat of his car is enough to feel his heart stutter.

“Let’s get you situated,” you announce, slipping your arm to its previous hold around his body. He stands with more strength now and you feel your worry dampen. Dean doesn’t argue and doesn’t make a comment about you driving his car again but he does mumble something about you letting him get in the car by himself so you can get out of the rain. You don’t listen and it ignites the familiar burn of anger in his chest that he’s actually used to with you.

After making sure he’s settled, you close his door and round back to the driver's side, pulling out of the driveway and carefully navigating through the foggy rain and back to the motel.

Light conversation buzzes between you in a primary attempt to keep him awake but also a secondary want to continue to just chat. You’ve never really just talked with him like this before. When you first met, he was quick to flirt and when you weren’t receptive you assumed he took it to heart and turned cold on you. You don’t recognize that Dean right now in the slightest.

He’s able to walk by himself by the time you make it back to the motel. He stumbles out of the car in a stubborn attempt to prove such but you remind him that just because he technically can doesn’t mean he should be expected to. He doesn’t mention how much your statement actually resonates with him.

“Sit,” you instruct, placing him on the king bed that reminds you of your sleeping arrangements. It’s a subtle irk but not enough for you to dwell on again, you have bigger problems to deal with at present. You grab your first aid kit and shuffle through the items and get to work.

The heat is blasting and you managed to get a towel to wrap around his damp frame to keep him from shivering but he’s also got enough energy to combat you, so now you’ve ended up with the towel around your shoulders.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask as you pour the disinfectant over the wound. He hisses but answers the distraction in the form of a question.

“Fine, sweetheart, don’t worry about me,” he says in his usual gruff. No longer slurring. Progress.

“Too late,” you murmur, cleaning the stained blood.

“Awe, someone starting to care? Who gave you a heart?” Dean smirks. You don’t entertain the usual banter.

“You could’ve died,” the words pass your lips with a slight waver. You dry the wound, starting to dress it.

“But I didn’t,” Dean reminds, his eyes watching yours for any hint as to why you got so freaked.

“Yeah,” you say out of obligation and not belief.

“Hey,” he reaches up to stop your working hands and when you don’t meet his gaze and calls your name. “I’m okay,” he repeats once your eyes meet his- you couldn’t help yourself with the way your name sounded on his tongue. “I’ve survived a lot worse.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It’s meant to.”

You sigh, looking down at his hands around your own now idle ones.

“Okay,” you finally agree, hoping the false belief will settle your nerves enough.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me,” he jokes with a smirk, “you know how persistent I can be,” he winks and you roll your eyes even if his wink bubbles something in you that’s never been effected by him like that before.

“Shut up and let me finish this,” you push aside his hold and secure the bandage to his skin. After packing back up the kit you start to stand but Dean stops you. His hand grips your wrist gently but the gravity of something not physical pulls you against your will. His lips part like he wants to say something but he doesn’t. He almost looks ashamed as he drops his hold on you like it’s burned him.

“What?” you ask, your voice a whisper.

“Nothin’, sorry,” he shakes his head, averting his gaze.

“You can tell me,” it’s not something you’d ever expect to offer but you can quite help yourself when he looks so pathetic.

“We should get into some dry clothes.”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, knowing that’s not what he was talking about but accepting it as it is. You grab your bag and get out some comfortable clothes for sleep. You excuse yourself to the bathroom but curse at the broken latch.

“No peeking,” you warn after alerting Dean to the issue and he just scoffs a smirk.

“No promises.” And fuck, he’s glad he didn’t make it because through the crack he catches a glimpse of your shimmering skin as you dry off and replace your outfit with a pair of sleep shorts and a way too big shirt. He admires the cozy feel your clothes give you. As you exit the bathroom he clears his throat and busies himself with getting his bed ready on the couch.

“What’re you doing?” You ask as he lays a blanket over the couch.

“Getting ready for bed,” he says as if it’s a stupid question.

“We can share a bed, Dean, it won’t kill ya,” you use his own remark from earlier against him. You don’t know why he’s suddenly so docile. You worry maybe the injury burned him of his usual spark. “Seriously, don’t make me watch you sleep crunched up on that couch,” you insist.

“Fine,” he subsides, making his way back over to you and the bed. You start to crawl under the covers, sticking to your side but the radiating heat of how close he is makes you want to scooch closer.

“Night, Dean,” you say as he flicks the lamp off but he’s quiet and unmoving, like he has some sort of unfinished business. You push yourself up on your elbow and look back at him sitting on the edge of the bed. “Okay seriously, what’s up with you?”

No response.

“Dean?”

He sighs, turning to look back at you as well. His profile is illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from a split in the curtains.

“Thank you,” his voice is small like you’ve never expected he was capable of. You sit up fully, turning to him with your legs folded.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you shake your head, a small smile pulling up your lips. He doesn’t return the expression.

“You’re a good hunter, yaknow,” he compliments like he won’t get another chance to tell you so. You smile a bit bigger.

“Dean Winchester, did you just flatter me?” You tease.

“You’re strong and resilient,” he continues and your smile falters a bit due to your confusion. “Stubborn and a pain in my ass,” his expression remains a softened yearn. “I never knew why you got to me so damn  bad. You’re smart and funny and captivating,” he snaps his jaw like he crossed a line and his cheeks flush. “I- I think I know now,” he finishes after a beat.

“Know what?” You ask, your heart puttering in your chest.

“Why I can’t get you off my mind,” his eyes dip down to your lips, “why, no matter what I do, I can’t forget you,” he looks so pained. So conflicted.

It hits. It all hits. His helpful offerings, your banter, the way he responded to your touch, and the way you felt yourself reciprocating his apparent feelings.

You lean in, you can’t help it, he’s so beautiful in this light- the way his eyes sparkle under it- but he tenses as you get too close so you halt.

“What are you afraid of?” You ask with a simple head tilt.

“I uh-, haven’t got that one worked out just yet,” he scoffs simply and his smile forces a small one of your own.

“Then just shut up for a minute,” you shake your head, leaning in and placing a soft kiss against his lips. It’s almost a ghost of a kiss but you can feel the emotion he funnels into it. He’s soft and gentle at first but his desperation takes over, leading the kiss through a dizzying spiral as he guides you into the mattress, hovering over you and encapsulating you with his radiating heat.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop kissing you until you’re unsure where your clothes have ended up. He doesn’t stop kissing you until you forget your own name. He doesn’t stop kissing you until your breathless pants slow from your high.

And when all is said and done, he doesn’t stop holding you through the night until the warmth of the sun blesses your exposed skin.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere

[chilledstrawberrysoda]

I think one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the kings men and possibly all of all for the game is when Neil and Kevin are arguing in the locker room after the win against UT because Neil was talking shit about the Ravens and Riko. I think it's the only time before Jackson and Romero come for him after the Belmont Binghamton game that the weight of what Neil knows is going to happen to him and the heartbreak he is experiencing in slow motion comes to the surface and is outwardly visible and even then the only person that picked up on it was Andrew and it didn't help because there was nothing anyone could do.

Kevin is angry about Neil antagonizing Riko publicly because he knows there will be backlash and he is rightfully afraid but this is the first time since Kevin found out who Neil is that he realizes Neil is afraid too. He appears fearless to Kevin so Kevin assumes it's hubris that makes Neil willing to stand his ground over and over again but it's not.

Neil had accepted his fate at that point, and instead of turning tail and getting himself the hell out of there, his only motivation is that if he can't have this at least Kevin will survive it.

At least Kevin gets to live on and play exy and be the best player.

When they talk about it again after Baltimore in the cabin Kevin asks him outright "how do you do it?" He asks "why aren't you afraid?" But Neil admits he IS afraid but he thinks willfully giving up the best thing that has ever happened to him (i.e. exy, the foxes, Andrew) would be worse than death.

There's a popular quote by choreographer Martha Graham that goes like this

A dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful

This sentiment is echoed by Neil in the kings men but also implied throughout the series. Giving up the things and the people he loves would be more painful than his actual death. That's why he drops his duffle and phone when he is taken as a signal to Andrew and Kevin. He needs them to know; he did not run, he did not give up, he did not leave them willingly. He accepted death to protect them but his last act before he let go of Neil Josten was to let them know in the only way he could that he would have held on forever if he were given the chance.

Neil's action throughout the books start to shift Kevin's mindset. Neil tells Kevin he stayed for him. Before Neil and Andrew's not nothing ever began, Neil stayed because he believed in Kevin and he wants so badly for Kevin to try. Because before Neil literally came back from the dead after Baltimore, the only thing he could hope was that after the dust settles Kevin would be on top. The first time Kevin gets any hint at that is in that locker room in Texas. I would love to read this scene from Kevin's perspective. As soon as he realizes how desperate Neil is, he stops fighting him. I think it might be the first time Kevin sees Neil as the scared kid he is and not just the partner that is willing to put himself in the line of fire for others.

I feel like that scene is always read as just Neil being kinda mean and calling Kevin a coward again but it's so complex and I wish it went on for longer. It's one of the few insights we get into Neil's crumbling psyche as his demise approaches and one of the few times he is fully honest with anyone before Baltimore and it's just so important to how his character is viewed for the remainder of the novel.

[fanzou]

To Be Vigilant

✗ Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x GN!Reader

✗ Genre: Fluff

✗ Total WC: 0.8K

“‘N…. I don’t know, he’s just so… handsome and masculine and so great in all the right ways.” You say so dreamily, palm propping your head up.

Robin just takes it all in, not ‘cause she wants to. But because she has to. She really does love you. Truly. Had it been anyone else she’d probably grow just a smidge irritated. Well, not like she wasn’t right now. This, here, right now, her zen time? She’d likely pick up a book and enjoy her favorite drink and go to town, and that was the initial plan—but alas, here you were talking about Zoro like a schoolgirl in love.

So yeah, she was a smidge irritated but she’d tolerate it, for you.

“Do you want me to stop talking about him?” You smile, sheepishly while tracing the outline of the wooden table.

If Nami was here, she’d answer with the most blunt and straightforward, YES! ever. Pity for Robin that she wasn’t there to accompany the two of you.

She smiles back, just a little lighter. “I can’t promise I won’t cancel you out while you do.”

You whine her name, resting your head on her shoulder while she swirls her coffee around with a spoon, you have a light grip of her arm.

Like seriously, if it were anyone else.

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” Would be the logical approach, and she, by all means, is right. But you often defied logic, many times reaping the consequences. This was one of those times. “You never truly know what he might be thinking.”

“That’s just it. It could go so wrong!”

“It could also go right.” She peers down at your desperate figure, clinging onto her like she was your life-line.

Shit, couldn’t argue with that.

You sigh in a last effort of defiance, “I think I’m fine with liking him from a distance. It’s not doing me any harm right now,” you resume in your own activity—that being fiddling with your fingers, pulling away from the black-banged woman. “Yeah… I mean, watching him work out in the Crow’s Nest is kinda hot.” She giggles at your remark. Wow, that’s kinda surprising.

She’d probably regret it though, it grants you a chance to egg the topic on, “There’s something so charming about his attitude and personality, though. Like he could be such a good boyfriend—No, he’d be a great husband.”

Robin says nothing, a little hm, flipping to the next page over.

And this is where you kinda start feeling bad, it’s not the first she’s gotten an ear load about how dreamy and handsome you thought Zoro was. Probably wouldn’t be the last, either. You’ve yapped Nami’s ear off about it and she was not as generous when it came to your rambles. Partially because there was so much she could take and partially because she cringed at how highly you spoke of him. She couldn’t take it anymore, so… you moved onto your next victim. A voice of reason, (like you’d ever listen to reason anyways.) Robin.

Surprisingly she speaks, “You should be more careful with where you say things.”

…Okay? You look back up to her after your arms are crossed over the other with your cheek leaning on top for a little duration of time, and get a look at the woman as an effort to make her push a little further into her statement.

But she doesn’t. Abruptly Robin stands from her seat, she closes her book and brings her coffee with her. She looks over to the door, as if someone was there—then to you.

“I wish you the best of luck with the swordsman.”

You giggle, “You say that like he’s—”

Oh.

Oh.

And then your worst fears come true. You lose vision of her, and then it’s replaced with the thief of your heart.

Oh shit.

His tone is condescending, and he lifts his head up as if to mock you, “Like I’m?” His shoulder is leaning against the door frame of the room; you’re frozen in place. Eyes as wide as flying saucers, hands gripping the nearby surface. You whimper very slightly.

Shit, was this her plan all along? Was that why she giggled at what you said? She wasn’t really trying to egg you on to speak anymore but, it was so perfect. She did this on purpose, get you to spill in possibly the most convenient time possible. You should’ve known. She’s never taken interest like this before.

And how couldn’t you sense his presence?!

Your palms are sweaty, you’re hot all over, “Like… like…” But he only grins, and it’s so sadistic, he takes delight in your shocked state. He’s truly the devil.

“Guessin’ we’ve got lots to talk about, huh?”

[french-goodbye]

in the low lamplight

summary: your boyfriend is perfect, except for one tiny little detail.

warnings: conversations about sex; dry humping; consensual slapping and chocking; praise kink; fingering; p in v sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

notes: i'm tired of experienced steve and virgin reader all the time. i want steve and confident slutty reader who's more experienced than him and blows his mind. also a little praise kink bc i feel like my boy would be insanely into that. also my first time writing smut!!! i! am! nervous! title from work song by hozier.

it's not that steve is bad in bed, it's quite the opposite actually. but he's just... extremely vanilla. and you totally get it. most of his sexual experiences were with young suburban girls in the back of his car or in his room when his parents weren't home. he was a couple of girls' first time and knowing steve, he probably put their own comfort above his wants. not probably, definitely.

you just wish he was... kinkier. nothing too intense, just something a little more exciting. and it's not that you don't get to cum, you totally do. he knows exactly how to move inside of you, the spots that make your body burn in need and he gives the best head ever, which is a nice bonus.

but after three months together and having sex everytime you have the opportunity to, because you're still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it's getting kinda repetitive. it's always missionary, maybe you on top if you're in a particularly bossy mood. but he nevers puts you on all fours or asks you to sit on his face or even sixty-nine. nothing.

you know steve's attracted to you (he isn't exactly shy to tell you how much) so you know that's not the issue, so you've tried so hard to subtly ask him to be rougher, you've tried placing his hand on your neck and squeezing, you've tried guiding his hands to your ass, but you've had no success so far. every single time he'll respectfully pull his hand away and press them to your shoulder or keep them there but not do anything.

but tonight. tonight is the night, you've decided. his parents are out of town (as usual) and it's just you two in the house, you've made sure he's free the whole day the tomorrow (no driving little shits around or shifts at the video store) so you'll have the whole friday night and the next day to yourselves.

you even splurged a bit and purchased a set of overpriced lingerie, way too expensive for just two little scraps of fabric and shaved, exfoliated and moisturized your entire body the night before. you still haven't approached the subject with him, but you've already planned a careful yet objective way to approach the subject and even practiced what you'd say in the mirror and bought a cosmo magazine. you're not exactly proud of yourself for that last one.

your plan is finally set in motion after you and steve get home from work and throw yourselves on his couch, half watching a movie and eat leftovers from the dinner you cooked the night before. when you're both done, you tell him you need a shower, where you use that lavender soap he likes and spray on the perfume he gave you on your birthday. after you're done, he's waiting in his room for you, halfheartedly flipping through the book you're currently reading.

"you can take your shower now" you tell him distractedly, holding the towel you've wrapped around yourself tightly to your body. he finally looks up and realizes your state of undress, his eyebrows shooting up.

"what are you doing?"

you stop going through your over night bag to throw him a confused look, "what are you talking about?"

"you used that soap i like, and that perfume i gave you that you only use on special occasions..." he stands up from the bed and stalks to you, watching you from narrowed eyes, like he's suspicious you're planning his murder. "what are you planning?"

you fake surprise, your hand coming up to clutch imaginary pearls. "me? why would i scheme something against my dear loving boyfriend?"

he looks at you unimpressed and you stand on your tip toes to rest your hands on his chest, his hands coming to support you on your waist and you whisper next to his ear, "okay, maybe i do have something planned... why don't you go take your shower and find out?"

he glances at you one last time before squeezing your waist and letting you go.

"fine..." he sighs dramatically, "i'll go"

once he's locked the door behind him, you put on your recently purchased underwear and bra on. you throw on one of his old highschool t-shirts since he once mentioned how much he likes seeing you wearing them.

by the time he gets out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam surrounding him, you're sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion on your legs and he's shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants, that hang low on his hips, his hair half dry as he finishes towel drying it.

you tsk and shake your head disheartened. "oh- wow, okay, harrington"

he glances at you once and goes back to drying his hair. "huh?"

"the chest, the scandalous dick print..." you explain and gesticulate towards him. "are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"why are you looking at my dick? you interested?" your stomach burns with insinuation but you ignore him, simply tucking your lotion back into your bag.

"i mean... it's hard not to notice when you're whoring yourself around" you shrug with fake nonchalance.

he scoffs loudly at you, going back into the bathroom quickly to hang both of your towels and getting on your way when you're about to climb on the bed after having dropped your bag in the corner.

"i'm whoring myself?" he looms over you, hand resting on your shoulder to snap the strap of your bra that's peeking from his shirt "you're the one wearing a new bra babe."

you don't answer, simply slapping his hand away and climbing on the bed, intentionally giving him a peek of your ass as you finally sit near the foot of the bed, with your legs crossed.

"why don't you turn off the lights and come take a look?"

he earnestly complies, almost tripping on a sweater he left on the bedroom floor earlier that day as he does what you asked. he lights the lampshade on his bedside table and walk towards you, leaning down to reach you when you stop him.

"no" you say firmly. "go sit on the bed, near the headboard."

he complies, but not without giving you a look. "ooh, bossy"

you turn to watch him and can't help the spark that lights up in your tummy. he looks ridiculous attractive, hair fluffy from not being styled properly, his hairy chest all on display for you and his thick spread legs giving a privileged view of his dick in those sweatpants. it's almost criminal, but you swallow it down and keep going with your plan.

you crawl to him on all fours, purposefully, until you're between his legs.

"i don't know about bossing " you run a long manicured fingernail through his thick chest hair. "but i was thinking about something i'd like to try with you..." you only stop when your fingers are almost at his waistband and you swirl your fingers around his bellybutton. you glance at his face and he almost looks dazed, eyes following your finger avidly.

hook, line and sinker.

your boyfriend was almost too easy sometimes.

"yeah, babe... whatever you want" you hold back your laughter and finally climb on top of his legs, his eyes following the curve of your hips and your bare legs as you straddle him.

"how do you feel about chocking?" you ask, making his gaze shift to your face.

"chocking? are you serious?"

"yeah, i think it'd be really good to have your hands around my neck" his fingers dig tightly on your hips, but you can tell he's still unsure.

"what if i hurt you?"

"if it makes you feel better, we can have a safe word and we can immediately stop if one of us says it. no questions asked"

"what if you can't speak?"

"then i can just tap you three times, like this?" you demonstrate, tapping his shoulder. "is that okay?"

he nods quietly, so you ask: "what if i do it on you first so you know what it feels like?"

"yeah, sure"

you gently put your hands on his throat, not applying pressure yet, just resting there.

"you just have to make sure you squeeze the sides, not on top so you don't stop airflow" you explain, spreading your fingers so they're on each side of his throat and squeezing carefully. steve himself is more surprised than you when his breath stutters and he lets an almost groan out.

"did you like that?"

"fuck yeah, that's super hot" he tells you breathlessly, surprising you with a forceful kiss. he manages to distract you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against yours as his fingers squeeze your hips and start guiding you to grind on his lap. you let him call the shots for a moment, slowly moving your hips against his now half hard cock and sinking your fingers on his hair to scratch his scalp lovingly.

however, when his hands start to wander underneath your borrowed shirt you bite his lip softly, letting it slot back in place as you pull away.

he's about to complain, big brown eyes staring at you and almost pouting. you press your pointer finger to his lips, silencing him, hips still moving at a torturously slow pace against him.

"there's one more thing, actually" you move your finger away and trace his bottom lip carefully.

"more?" his eyebrows raise in question.

"what about you... i don't know, maybe you can be a rough with me? like slapping me a little bit"

"slapping?! babe, i don't wanna hurt you and i don't-"

"you slap my ass all the time!" you accuse him, reminding him of all the times you'd walk past him or bend down and he had slapped your butt teasingly.

"yeah, jokingly"

"babe, i trust you" you grip his face, forcing him to look at you. "i know you'd never hurt me if i didn't ask you to. i just think it'd be really hot, and who knows... maybe you'll like it too. and if you really don't like it we'll never speak of this again" you shrug, gently pushing his hair from his face.

"you sure?" you nod and press a quick kiss to his lips.

"if you wanna stop just say red, okay? anytime."

"yeah, i like that"

"you'll tell me if you wanna stop, right?" you press another quick kiss to his lips in thanks.

he nods eagerly "you too, okay? just say the word and we'll stop" you nod in agreement. "okay... but now what? do i just... jump right into it?"

"no... what about we start the way we always do before having sex?" you smirk, starting to move your hips in slow circular motions again and his hands slide down your back to slip under your t-shirt again.

he laughs huskily next to ear, making you shiver. "we're really good at that", his lips make contact with the skin of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there. you keep moving on top of him, hands sinking into his hair and keeping him there.

"fuck, steve" you whine when he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, moulding fat like dough underneath his fingertips.

suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your backside as steve slaps your ass. you whine deep in your throat and your hips stutter in their rhythm against his lap.

"oh, you really like it when i do that"

"god, i do" you breathlessly tell him with a smile, tugging his hair harshly to guide him to your mouth. "you like this too, don't you? just wanna give me what i need, huh baby?"

"i do, i do. just want my girl to feel good" he whines against your mouth, while he spreads your ass and digs his fingers into your skin.

you kiss him some more, until you can feel his now hard cock against you, through the lace fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants. his hand lift up your t-shirt and carefully takes it off of you.

"god, you're gorgeous" you push on his chest gently until his back is against the headboard so you can show him the whole thing, from the intricate lace to the small straps keeping everything together. "you got this for me?" he teases you, his hands playing with your underwear, pulling it and letting it snap against the skin of your hip.

"yeah..." you answer distractedly, his cock rubbing in a very nice spot near your covered clit. his hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your pebbled nipple through your bra. "you like it?"

"fuck yeah, i love it" one of his hand cups your breast, while the other pushes the fabric of your bra down so he can pull and twist your nipple.

you're already a mess on top of him, feeling the wetness on your underwear sticking to your folds, when he lowers his head to suck your nipple into his mouth and his hand plays with your other breast. the nails of your left hand dig half crescent moons on his bare shoulders while the other tug on his hair to keep him there and your head drops back in pleasure.

his hand stops massaging your breasts and you're about to complain when you feel it start to slip down your stomach and hook under your underwear to rub his fingers through your wetness, his knuckles grazing your clit. you hold him tighter, a loud moan leaving your lips when he sinks two fingers inside of you.

"yes, yes, yes, baby" you whine, hiding your face in his hair as he realeases your nipple with a lewd pop.

"you're so fucking wet" he rasps against you and sucks a mark on the swell of your breast, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the palm of his hand rubbing on your clit everytime he moves. "god, you feel so good around my fingers. can't wait to have my dick inside you."

you're lost in the rhythm of it, his palm brushing your clit at every stroke, the feeling of his lips sucking on your chest and his hips bucking underneath yours occasionally. but you finally reach your peak when his free hand slips down your back and slaps your ass again, harder this time, palming it underneath his fingertips.

"that's it... come for me, baby" you pull him to your mouth again as you come down and he guides you through it, still feeling yourself clenching on his fingers as you twitch in his lap.

"god, you're so fucking hot" you whisper against his mouth, still breathless. "you're so good to me, baby. such a good boy"

suddenly, he's holding you tighter and manhandling you, roughly dropping you on your back and looming over you between your knees. before you can react, he's ripping off his sweatpants and throwing it on his bedroom floor.

he stands completely naked in front of you, helping you spread your legs. you eye him lustfully, from his mussed hair to his throbbing cock standing tall, the tip pink and dripping with a little pre cum.

"can i go down on you?" you ask him avidly, starting to lift yourself up but he stops you, holding your wrist above your body.

"nuh-uh, baby. i'm gonna blow my load if you do that" he denies and you giggle, about to complain when he licks the palm of his free hand and strokes himself one, two, three times, shutting you up real quick. he's starting to align himself with your entrance when you stop him.

"wait, wait" he stops immediately.

"what? what's wrong?"

"i want you from behind"

he groans, dropping his head on the curve of your neck and letting go of your wrists. "you really can't say shit like that to me if you want me to last"

you giggle and tap his shoulder sympathetically, "you'll live". you lightly scratch his back, sliding your hands from his shoulder to his lower back and wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging your inner thigh. "now... why don't you put me on my knees, handsome?"

he quickly moves to reposition you, helping you lift yourself up and pushing your spine down gently when you get on your knees. you lower your torso all the way until your chest is pressed against his bedsheets, lifting your ass up.

"fuck, baby. you look so good like this" he says when he slots himself behind you.

"maybe you should listen to me more, harrington" you tease, looking at him from over your shoulder as he kneads your ass.

"maybe i should, pretty girl" he answers distractedly, and you feel his thumb spreading your entrance. "look at this pretty pussy"

you moan and try to wriggle in the hold he has on your hips, "steeeve-"

he laugh mockingly and starts rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "you this desperate babe?"

before you can answer he starts sinking himself inside, both of you sighing at the feeling. when he's finally inside you can't help the moan that escapes you, his big cock filling you up beautifully and the stretch in this position making you feel so full. however, his strokes are slow and languid and while that's nice, it's not exactly what you need.

"come on, babe" you grumble, trying to rock your hips against his grip. "fuck me like you mean it"

he scoffs and speeds up, his hand wrapping around your hair to press your face against his mattress and to keep you still, changing the angle slightly and pressing right against your spot inside of you.

"is this how you want it?" he huffs, slapping you again.

"oh god, yes. right there!"

he pulls you up until you're both kneeling on the bed, his hips slapping against your ass. his free hand climbs up your chest until it's resting on your neck. "do you want-?"

"yes, i want it. please, please, choke me" you interrupt, begging him to keep going, begging him for more. his fingers carefully start squeezing you throat and you wrap your hand around his to guide him until the pressure is just right.

"squeezing my cock so tight, baby. should've told me you wanted this sooner."

you don't get to answer, his free hand suddenly slipping down to rub circles on your clit and you're gone, your orgasm hitting you like a fright train. he helps you ride it out, until you gently pull his hand away and bend down again, resting your weight on your elbows.

"your turn, baby" you tell him, tilting your head slightly so you can see him.

he starts babbling and pressing you harder against the bed, a clear sign that he's close himself. he bends down, his chest against your back until he can stretch his hand out to hold yours against the mattress and he can babble against your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how much he loves being inside you.

"that's it, babe. you made me feel so good, it's your turn now" you tell him, still slightly breathless and sensitive around his cock. "please come, need you to come so bad"

"god, i'm gonna cum" and it's all it takes to feel him pull out and finish himself off on your back. you're both still for a second as you catch your breath and he squeezes your hand still intertwined in his gently. when you turn your face to the side to see him, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

he taps your hips gently as he gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back quickly to wipe you and himself clean with a wet washcloth. when he's done he throws it on top of the rest of his dirty laundry, still thrown on his bedroom floor.

when he finally turns to you, you're finally laying on your back and getting comfortable on his pillow. steve throws himself next to you and his arms immediately wrap around your waist. you hug him back, guiding his head to rest on top of your bare chest, now littered with purpling marks.

"you had fun, pretty girl?"

"you couldn't tell?" you laughter, his head shaking slightly against your chest as you comb his hair away from his face and his breath against your skin.

"god, i'm obsessed with you" he complains, hiding his face on your boob. you laugh, gently coaxing his face away so you can see him.

"that's good," you smooth the messy hairs on his eyebrow. "i'm pretty obsessed with you too"

"we're pretty perfect for each other then"

"you should keep me forever" you tease, tracing his features gently. he presses a kiss to your sternum and gets comfortable against you.

"maybe i will"

it sounds like a pretty good deal.

[crispy-kitten-princess]

Some fanarts to bring attention to the long post about the books!

Yesterday i had finished the httyd books re-reading (it's been A MONTH), and today i watched the httyd movie for like the 30th time idk (i was really keen of it as a child)

Friendship with movie Hiccup ended, now Tuffnut and Ruffnut are my best friends. They are iconic. I remember book!Tuffnut being kinda sorta a background character, like somebody amongst the Hooligan tribe. And that's the move i liked about the dreamworks version, heh

Longpost and possible spoilers under the cut

Yeah, i loved movie Hiccup and associated myself with him very much... But now, after i reread the books, refreshed my memory about The Ending (and cried my eyes out), i found the movie rather.. strange? It leaves a lotta questions, like the world building, Astrid's behaviour, poor stylistic choise of making her as skinny and wimp as Hiccup, and Stoic s attitude towards his son, like.. stop??? He is an awful warrior ok but plz quit telling everyone around how much you are ashamed of him. Plus i miss Alvin as the main antagonist. He was one of a kind, never saw anyone so persistent to living and killing your distance nephew. And i miss Fishlegs No name as he was so cute and sarcastic. Movie Fishlegs is rather cliched

Weeeeell this whole post exists just bc i love book Hiccup sm AND THE WHOLE STORY AND I LOVE THE FIRST HICCUP AND THE SECOND AND I LOVE FURIOUS AND HIS STORY AND I LOVE FISHLEGS STORY AND DEADLY SHADOW AND I ADMIRE VALHALLARAMA AND CAMICAZI AND CHINHILDA AND TANTRUM and i miss them and i want to share my love for the books with everyone around... But amongst all my friends i don't have somebody who would've read the YA fantasy book about a 10-15 yo viking boy and his tiny arrogant dragon, and i would not either if i had not became a fan at my 12-13s by absolute chance. This is insane. I love my fixations (that's the whole point of fixating) but it hurts that I can't share it, and even if i try to explain to one of my friends who are ready to listen, I can't tell why exactly would i cry for half an hour about the children's book ending where OMG the dragon died, no waaay

I really wish it were a cartoon series based on books specifically, bc that way i could show them to my friends, which is waaaay easier than making them read the books (which is impossible, i tried). But ig.... It would stay a wish forever

I wanted to tell something about the books again. Why i like them so much? But i get too emotional about them and can't muster up ANYTHING. What CAN i say??? They are good. They are perfect. Cressida Cowell made a great job. The slightest gradient between the first and the last book makes the neighbour books in the series feel alike, but the first and the last are nothing like the other. The first is really a cute local story. WHILE THE LAST IS ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD AND WHOLE NATION. This is incredible

Myself, i like the first 4 or 6 books more. They are so funny! I read them just for fun. But when i do, i just cant stop. And as i proceed further, the world changes, and the Fate follows the main character with a knife of misfortune (i wish i could play with English words as i do in my native language lol) - or good luck! Who knows, when you survived so many terrible moments, are you extra lucky or the exact opposite?

The first books don't even have in them the main thought of the last - dragon slavery. Or do they? Now, when i think of it, i do recognise the abuse and unappropriate attitude towards dragons, like foreshadowing... It's hard to tell if Cressida planned it all from the beginning or expanded the world as the books went further and further. Anyway, the first book os nothing like the last. The last is insane

I hate the book series endings almost every time, but not in that case. No. No. No. This one is solid perfection. It is logical. It is mature. And most importantly, it is painfully realistic. That's what broke me. The realism of the ending, where the magical creatures have to vanish from the human world just to save themselves. It is common for books like that to end with death of all magical (like it dies when we grow up, blablabla and so on) and it is the story of maturing, but that is not all. It matches with our world, where all living things die away and vanish eventually, if they are not significant for human race survival... But in our case they will never ever return from some North fields or sea hollow. Abused animals have neither intelligence to speak for themselves nor some kind guy to save them. Theme of war and death is extremely actual rn too. And i was devastated when the peace was established and shortly after that Furious died 🤪🤪 amazing, thank you. It killed me when he said that he was dead for all these years, and lived again only after Hiccup III spoke to him and returned him to his right mind

This is a mess I'm sorry 😔

I remembered now that it supposed to be a post bout the movie I've just watched. Well. The movie's best part is that it brought my mother's attention to the book series,, i was obsessed with the movie therefore she gifted me the books, and i became so obsessed with them that she even yelled at me for rereading them so frequently, lol

I can't say anything about the movie. I have no thoughts. I guess i just re watched it too many times as a kid to feel anything anymore. It didn't work with the books though. Reading them again 6-7 years later the latest reread, as an adult, i figured out that they aged extremely well. I found inspiration in them. I'm lost in thoughts about them. I want them to be more popular and well-known. And i hate fucking live action movie btw if you even care 😘💅 not to think about all of the resources that could ve been put in use to make cartoonish HTTYD books real

Plz, if you came that far, reblog or comment with something thoughtful, it would be mush appreciated

Upd.: this one is obvious but I loveeeee the trope. When Hiccup went on the impossible journey of Training His Dragon Toothless, he learned how to deal with arrogant, whining, lazy people. He learned how to be a a leader who listens to his followers, a teacher, a mentor to all the crazy arrogant and wild viking nation, and that is why the title of the book focuses on Training your dragon

I'd looove to hear everyone's opinion about the series. Plz share yours!!! I love you fellow httyd fan

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 3 THOUGHTS

- WHY WAS JEREMY REBUILDING THE TRUST BETWEEN HIMSELF AND HIS MOTHER

- JEREMY ALAN????

- JEAN IS JEREMYS TYPE HELLOOOOO

- FUCK U JEREMYS HOMOPHOBIC RACIST MOTHER

- wishing everyone reading this with unsupportive homophobic parents a very big i love u and i see u and there is nothing wrong or disgusting about ur identity

- FUCK JEREMYS ARSEHOLE BROTHER IDK WTF IS GOING ON IR WHAT HES BLACKMAILING JEREMY ABOUT BUT I WANT TO KNOW MORE

matter of fact fuck jeremy’s whole family

- ok i kinda thought in the last chapter when jeremy went to his car to get something out and i think it was laila who said i won’t have u stinking up the house, that jeremy smokes weed and now reading about bryson giving jeremy a ‘family and friends discount’ for something he’ll need to fall back on i am pretty settled in my belief that jeremy does/has done drugs (possibly more hardcore than just weed)

- on of my favourite revelations from tsc and tgr has been the complexity of jeremy knox, all we knew about him from the original books was that he was a happy, kind, pacifist. digging into the past and finding out that he has clearly made mistakes (he needs his brother to forgive him for something), his life is not all sunshine and rainbows according to his family life and he is not the surface level happy golucky guy he initially appeared to be. he is in therapy, he has clearly worked hard to be as happy as he is and he has some hidden darkness behind his smile

- NO JERE THAT IS NOT WHO UR SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING OUT WITH!!! Jean is back at home

- “He’d heard such reassurances from his friends over the years, but they were his friends; filling in the holes his family carved out of him was something they’d always done because they loved and supported him. It was different, from Jean—not that Jeremy didn’t consider Jean a friend, but that Jean said it with such impatience. Jean didn’t know or care about the rest, the Wilshires or their expectations or the ugly manipulations happening behind the scenes. He saw only Jeremy Knox, captain of the USC Trojans, and he knew what Jeremy was worth on his own.” I CANT DEAL WITH THEM RN

- “you go away when you go home” SHUT UPPPPPPP I CANT EVEN

- cat and laila having a pitcher of pineapple juice in their fridge is so funny to me

- JEAN CURLING HIS LIP IN DISDAIN WHEN JERE OFFERS TO TAKE HIM TO A BASEBALL GAME AND SAYING THAT THERE IS NO VALUE IN WATCHING IT IS SOOOOO NEIL CODED THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS IDC WHAT JEAN SAYS

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Can you talk about your thoughts on hinny? I have no problem with people shipping it but to me personally it just doesn't work. It feels like Rowling tried too hard or maybe just wasn't good at writing romance and messed it up. Maybe it was too rushed? The ship doesn't work for me but I'd love to hear your views.

Okay, sorry it took a while to answer this, I actually have a lot of thoughts and I have posts on some of them that I hope to get out soon-ish. I also wanted to go back to the books to make sure I'm not talking out of my ass. But I don't like Hinny, never did. And my reasons are kinda divided into three categories.

Disclaimer: I don't have anything against anyone who ships hinny, it's just really not my thing and I don't see it working with the way I see their characters.

And that's like the core of it. I just don't see Harry and Ginny as compatible on a character level. That and their relationship never really read as believable to me in the books.

The 3 categories I mentioned are:

Harry's character

Firstly, I think Harry is gay. Not bi, but gay. I think he was never actually attracted to a woman and I have a whole post to prove it. So, because that's how I read his character, I just can't really see him with any girl.

(Now, I don't think JKR intended for Harry to come off as gay, but he did)

Secondly, he never thought about Ginny, like, up until book 6, and even during large portions of book 6, he just isn't thinking about Ginny as a potential romantic interest. And when he does think about Ginny in the final two books it never reads like he really likes her. It reads like they decided they are dating, but I don't think Harry knows why he supposedly likes her. He just decided he does, but doesn't know why. It was kind of the same with Cho, where he said he had a crush on her and was nervous around her, but if you asked Harry what he likes about her, his answer would be: "Ehh...."

Like, Harry doesn't really seem to know why he's dating Ginny, and neither do I. It's just how it's written.

2. Ginny's character

So, this is again my opinion, but I don't like Ginny. I just don't like her character. I wish her off the page whenever she talks.

And, when it comes to shipping, for me, I need to find both the characters involved interesting and fun for me to explore to ship them together and care about the pairing. As I don't like Ginny and don't really care for her, I can't really ship her with anyone, not really. It's not even like I hate her (not the way I hate Dumbledore), I just find a lot of her actions and behavior iffy and she annoys me more often than not.

I'm not going to list everything I don't like about Ginny (some of it appears in the rest of this post). But her treatment of Fluer, for example, really soured her character to me. Like, sure, Ginny's young, but, she's 15, and by that point, I think she should take responsibility for being awful to Fluer who was nothing but nice to all of them. Envy is not a good look for Ginny.

3. How they are portrayed together

Like I mentioned in the Harry section, their romance just never really felt there to me. The descriptions were off and left me feeling annoyed at their scenes together more than anything else.

Again, I'm writing a more comprehensive post about it, but the gist of it is that Harry's thoughts about Ginny in books 6 and 7 are weirdly detached for a supposed crush at best or outright uncomfortable for me to read at worst.

Now, we know Harry can describe characters he finds attractive in greater detail. There is none of that detail with Ginny. He only mentioned her hair color and that her hair is long and smells nice. Like, he doesn't talk about her eye color, her facial structure, eye shape (like he does sometimes with characters he does find attractive) — nothing. He doesn't even call her pretty once! At least he referred to Cho Chang as pretty twice in the series.

In the books there is never a scene (not even one) that convinces me they should be together. Like, they have no chemistry. They kinda remind me of Ron and Lavender tbh. They make out and are present in the same space often, but they never talk. Not really. I don't think Ginny actually knows Harry all that well because he never honestly talks to her about anything real. They don't really have chemistry or a relationship, they're just together. At least, that's how I always saw them.

And yes, Harry has his jealousy moments (that are portrayed so weirdly I always narrow my eyes at them to make sure they were actually there, but that's a whole other post about Harry's chest monster of jealousy), but he still doesn't really explain what he finds in Ginny. He doesn't mention she's attractive or pretty at any point, nor does he mention anything he particularly likes about her personality (except that she doesn't weep like Cho and is good at Quidditch. Neither of which are particularly good basis for a relationship).

Like, Ginny mentions why she likes Harry and that she does multiple times. Harry by contrast, just feels so incredibly uninvolved in his own relationship, to me.

Also, personally, I just find the setup of their relationship iffy. Like Ginny outright says she never gave up on Hary and always knew they'd end up together. It means, that since she was 11 (or earlier), she was crushing on Harry, never gave up on her crush, and considered them ending up together fate. She dated other guys to make Harry jealous and pay attention to her, and that's just really gross. I don't like her long obsessive crush on Harry or her treatment of the other guys she dated on her way to get Harry.

Proof of that, for those wondering:

“I never really gave up on you,” she [Ginny] said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 647)

She literally said she dated other guys so Harry would take notice of her. That just grosses me out.

So, no, I don't like Hinny (or Ginny).

[platinumrosetail]

Yandere Bingqiu x fem reader.

The fem reader is a girl who transmits the same as Shen Qingqiu. She is in the body of the main female villain, who is the crazy lover of the original Shen Qingqiu. The fem reader and the other reincarnated must take care of Luo Binghe and change his unpleasant destiny. (I hope you accept it).

Oooh interesting also my first svsss/pidw request! and so soon too! I’ll try my best! Also sorry for the long wait 😅 been a bit busy and such lately.

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere characters, and others.

Character: Lou binghe, shen yuan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re the sister of the author of the ‘proud immortal demon way’ books which you wished wasn’t just fan service and had the plot your brother originally wanted, though sadly you can’t always get what you want as he needed the money that the papapa scenes gave home when he makes them. You decided to help him with it by making a more plot aligned au for it to help him get what he wanted and since it was an ‘au’ he can still make money on the actual book though sadly not for what he actually wanted to write.

You had fun writing it and helping him get his story that he wanted to make out there, even if it meant not getting payed for it like he wanted but it’ll do for now at least, plus he knows that you were wanting to write stories too so it’s good practice though he hopes that it won’t have you end up having to write any papapa scenes unless necessary.

While writing you would get comments from the one only hater of pidw; peerless cucumber, he comments on how he’s glad that the world building is explored more on this rather than the ‘original’ you show your brother which makes him happy that someone likes the one with plot instead of everyone liking the one with basically all papapa scenes at every corner.

One thing that you hate; more jokingly hate than actual hate, that he based the villains lover after you mostly with how you react to your husbandos that you have from anime and shows. He even based the villain on some of the villains that you like from your shows and anime as well, though he did have to up it a notch since the character was the villain’s lover and therefore a villainess though less than the actual villain. (I didn’t know what kind of crazy you wanted the character to reincarnate into so I did this, hope that’s alright 😅)

What you weren’t thinking about was reincarnated into your brother’s book as the same character that was based off of you. You of course have to have something preventing you from being your normal self as this ‘system’ that is with you makes you being the character as if you be ooc then you’ll be terminated because of it until you earn enough b points to free you from the ooc feature.

Shockingly enough you found out you weren’t the only one that reincarnated; your brother reincarnated as shang qinghua, and your online buddy, peerless cucumber, reincarnated as the villain so with the help of them you all avoided death from the protagonist and his ally.

You even fell in love with shen yuan; who was the one that reincarnated as shen qingqiu and also known as peerless cucumber, you also fell in love with Lou binghe; which kinda shocks you considering you didn’t before your reincarnation so everything was turning out great! It was all good until things started getting weird. Shen yuan and Lou binghe both started acting weird lately and being clingy, trying to make sure you don’t go out as you usually did and if you do it’s usually with one or both of them not even a guard plus you can protect yourself if needed and they know that so them doing this is weird to you. What you didn’t know was that they both were turning obsessed over you and nothing would stop them not even you.

(A/n: hope yall liked it!! 😁 I tried my best with what I was given and I think I did pretty good especially since I never actually read the novel or comic yet and only read au ideas and such. Anyway I believe that’s it so hope yall have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

[devixxish]

Pairing: Choso Kamo x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2357 | 25 paragraphs

18+ MDNI. NOT proof read, smut, inked & pierced Choso, pining, tiny bit of tattooing, Choso kinda flirts? ig, groping, two consent checks, slight begging, cunnilingus, fingering, dom! Choso, pussydrunk! Choso. again probably more? idk

A/N: it's like 5AM and I'm tired asf 😭 I deleted the whole thing and started rewriting it like 12 hours ago. tbh I just kept writing and writing,i had once again too many ideas and got overwhelmed:') Also, is it obvious I suck at writing dialogue? ANYWAY, the ending is hella rushed and ugly tbh, but I still hope you enjoy! Divider by @benkeibear ♡

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ A guy looking both intimidating and sweet simultaneously as you watch him from afar while waiting for your scheduled appointment. Skin adorned with black ink, running from his fingers up his arms and getting lost beneath the mystery that lay under his shirt. A hint of a few splotches made their way up his neck, your eyes following them with intent. Your eyes reached that pretty face of his and much to your embarrassment, you had been caught staring, earning a small wink and a hint of a smirk from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ While you had been many times to that particular tattoo parlor and caught multiple glimpses of him, either working, chatting or simply existing, you never got the chance to actually speak to him. You never even got booked with him. You merely settled for admiring from afar; the contrast of his pale skin with his intricate tattoos, his smudged eyeliner that made his gaze even more intense (or maybe it was just your imagination), the dark circles under his eyes that somehow added to his look, and the most adorable pigtails which were a stark contrast to his whole image. You had accepted your fate that you would never get the chance to come in contact with him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ Even the thought of him was enough to make you blush. You had convinced yourself that it was starting to become an unhealthy obsession- you would never find the balls to even get close to the guy! But it happened. What you had been not so secretly hoping for- wishing for. You had just saved up enough to get a piece done, and when you booked your appointment and heard the name of your artist- you had to physically contain yourself from squealing.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He was the first thing you saw as soon as you entered through the door on the day of your appointment. You were sure you had never felt more nervous in your life; the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and you could feel the sweat in your palms. It was embarrassing, honestly, but you had to get through it. With a deep breath, you found the courage you did not possess and walked over to him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ The way he lit up upon seeing you did nothing to calm your nerves. On the contrary- were you imagining things? He interacted with you in the sweetest way, and you had to constantly remind yourself that you were his client, his last for the day on top of that, so it was common sense for him to be polite. Soon enough, you both had moved to the back with you only then realizing that everyone else had already left for the night. Sigh.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He complimented you when you described the tattoo you wanted to get - a side piece coming down to your stomach - and you managed to give him a smile and a small 'thank you' in response with difficulty. He had started arranging the caps and inks, and whatever else he needed, when he suddenly voiced; "I'm going to need you to take this off.", pointing to your top.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ who laughed a melody when you yelped, "Excuse me?!", and explained that it was for the best if you didn't want ink to get on your top. You easily complied, slipping the garment off your body and laying back on your seat, calmly waiting for him. Soon, he approached to get you and the stencil ready. "Ready, pretty?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He didn't seem to notice the blush that creeped over your cheeks, and you did your best to hide it as well. He started tracing the lines with ink, and you were grateful for the slight distraction the pain from the machine provided. It didn't last. He kept touching you - to stretch your skin and hold you still, of course - and you were finding it extremely hard to not stare at his face, or the piercings adorning it, or his hands, or the way he was touching you. "How are you feeling?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked up at you, expecting a reply. You had to look at him, and so you did, giving him only a nod. A hint of a smirk appeared on his face, returning your nod. "Good. You're doing so good.", and with that he continued his job, slowly reaching your lower stomach as time passed. It hurt, of course it hurt, but something made you want to put on your brave face and act nonchalant about both the pain and the proximity of you both- his breath was fanning over you stomach, adding a tingly feeling to the pain you felt. And him, he was nonchalant about how he made you feel.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He wasn't stupid, nor a stranger to clients who had small, innocent crushes on him. It happened to everyone, and you didn't make it particularly hard to notice. He could see the way you looked at him, could feel the deeper breaths you sucked in each time his grip on you tightened, or the way you squirmed and closed your thighs every time he worked on your tummy. And Choso enjoyed it. Perhaps a little too much for his own good.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ His pause made you look back at him, a puzzled expression on your face. He gave you a smile and informed you you would be stopping for the night- you would need a second session. Your face visibly dropped; not because you wanted more of the pain from the machine, but because you wanted more of Choso. More of his touch, his small talk, his mere presence. You guessed he saw the look on your face, because just for a fleeting moment, something flickered in his eyes. What it was, you couldn't exactly tell, but it was enough to make your mind wander.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He had turned to throw away his gloves and you took it as your cue to put your shirt back on and take your leave. While slightly struggling with your top, you picked up the sound of his chair rolling, and when you were able to see again, Choso was right in front of you, right in between your parted legs. Before you could even utter a word, he had already stood up, towering over you as he leaned closer while supporting himself on the back of your chair. "Leaving already?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ simply chuckled when your breath hitched in your throat, a low and airy sound that tickled your ears. "You're being so obvious, it's almost painful to watch", he was smirking while eyeing you, watching you stumble over your words and ultimately huff out in defeat. You were the cutest thing he had laid eyes upon. And he wanted to devour you. And he was pretty sure you wanted that, too.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ leaned even closer. You could feel his breath mingling with your own as he took a moment to analyze your face; your widened eyes, your parted lips, your pretty face as a whole. "Can I?", it was a whisper so low you barely heard it, but you were so thankful you did. Your nod was all it took for him to finally crash his lips on yours, his hand snaking to the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his tongue to part your lips and gain access inside your mouth. All you did was mewl and let him kiss you the way he wanted - rough, but sweet at the same time - your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if his kiss was your life support.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ couldn't hold himself back. His lips never once left your skin after the initial kiss. He only took a second to allow you to catch your breath, before attaching his lips to your neck, his hands taking a hold of your thighs and trailing up and under your shirt. The sounds he was pulling from you were mesmerizing- and he needed to hear more. You could feel his hands roaming all over your body, groping your tits, gripping your side - the one without the fresh tattoo - gripping your thighs. It was driving you insane, and you found yourself feeling grateful for the fact that everyone else had left by then.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ dropped to his knees, placing your thighs over his shoulders and pulling you slightly forward. The skirt you had decided to wear that day flipped over your stomach, exposing your black undies and just how wet you were all for him. His lips found your right inner thigh, kissing and nipping your skin while holding your gaze. You were looking at him in wonder, chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation of his next move.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ smoothed his hands over your thighs, until his right one settled over your crotch. His thumb swiped over the wet patch on your undies and you heard him swear under his breath. "So wet and I've only kissed you.." He shook his head in feign disappointment as he used his finger to pull your underwear to the side. You couldn't even remember how you found yourself in that position; your mind was consumed by Choso and what you hoped he was about to do soon.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked at you from below, his gaze intense and hungry- "Can I?", he asked for the second time that night, and you gave him a nod once again. But this time it wasn't enough. "I'm going to need you to speak up, darling". Through whines and whimpers, you managed to give him the verbal consent he needed to hear from you; "Yes! Please, just- Do something.."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ cooed at the desperation lacing your voice. "Atta girl". And with that, his face disappeared in between your thighs. He buried his face into your cunt, his tongue lapping up your juices and flicking over your clit. A groan sounded from him, along with a muffled mumble of how good you taste, right before you felt his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. Your hands practically flew to hold onto his head, your fingers threading through his tied up locks- you couldn't decide whether you wanted to pull him closer or pull him off. Everything you were feeling was overwhelming; your moans sounded deafening in your ears and the intensity of his pierced tongue on your clit was enough for you to slowly lose your sanity.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could live forever in between your thighs and with his head buried into your cunny. Your taste was intoxicating and addicting. It only made him wonder how much sweeter you would taste after cumming, and how much sweeter your moans would sound. How pretty you would look. He was a determined man. As much as he didn't want to, he had to catch his breath and so he pulled back. "Such a sweet, pretty pussy.." He murmured, more to himself. You could feel one of his fingers teasing your hole and before you knew it, he was slipping his digit inside you. "Tight too.. Fuck."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up, looming over your slumping form on the chair with his finger knuckle deep inside you. You looked up at him with doe eyes, your breath baited. His thumb was lazily circling your clit as he slowly pushed in a second finger causing you to cry out and hold onto his hand that was in between your legs. "You're doing so good f'me, baby.. That's it..". His encouragement only added to your pleasure, and while it felt embarrassing, you were already close.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel it. Your tight heat enveloping his fingers had his mind wandering to how good you'd feel around his cock. But that had to wait. His fingers began moving skillfully inside you, curling upwards to hit directly your sweet spot and his lips claimed yours once again, swallowing your moans and whimpers. His fingers were moving fast and hard, driving you even closer to your release. You tried to warn him, tell him that you were close, but he was kissing you with such fervor you found it hard to resist him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel you tightening, but he never expected to feel your thighs clenching over his hand and your release gushing around his fingers so soon; it was nothing he would complain about, though. He slowed down but didn't stop; instead he helped you ride out your orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes. When you began squirming due to the overstimulation, that's when he knew he had to move away and let you breathe normally again - not that you would be able to.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ crouched down, taking his fingers out of you and showing them to you. "You made such a mess", and you looked half-shocked as he cleaned his digits off with his tongue. He stood up on his full height with a laugh and walked away, leaving you bewildered on the chair. Was that it? "Um..", you began and looked down at him when he crouched once more in between your legs and cleaned your mess with a cloth. "Hm?" He cocked one eyebrow, but his gaze remained focused on his task at hand. "Aren't.. I mean, won't we..?", you tried to subtly explain to him, only to earn a truly genuine laugh from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up and helped you get dressed, "I wanna take you out first, what do you take me for?". That had you laughing this time, getting up from the seat on wobbly legs with his help. He escorted you all the way to the exit, a cheeky grin on his pretty face and a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I have a cancellation tomorrow. I'd be more than happy to finish up.. your tattoo".

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[rexisan]

jaytim prompt: Tim buys/ builds Jay his own personal library with all his favorite books. Yes basically that scene from beauty and the beast.

Okay so. I kinda went off for one. For two, your second ask? That might become a fullblown THING. So I'mma wait. But here you go, have Tim being a bowerbird.

Hiding what he was doing had been a pain in the fucking ass. In more ways than one but in some of the others he wasn't complaining. But keeping Jason away from the Nest long enough to get it done was, annoying.

But it was done. And Tim… Tim totally wasn't putting it off. No, course not. Not like he poured his heart and soul and maybe lowkey learned how to wood carve just for this specific purpose. He's Tim Drake he's not afraid. No he's petrified. He's made Jason a sanctuary in his own home. He carved and picked out the glass for the one bookshelf where he knew Jason would want to keep his rarest most loved books. He only wished he could get natural light in here but this is Gotham and if the sun ever shown Tim is pretty sure most of them would catch fire. Himself first and probably worst.

He figured out Jason's favorite leather and favorite fabrics, he found, read paid an artisan the asking price doubled, a chair with Jason's measurements in mind because he's built like a masculine monolithic linebacker that Tim doesn't ever want to look away from, so he got the chair big enough for him to curl up in. And blankets with his favorite colors with his favorite textures. And lights that simulate the sun so he can attempt to get the natural light he knows Jason likes to read by. With carpets that absorb the noise and everything feels warm and cozy and is HYPOTHETICALLY perfect.

Tim wasn't putting it off at all. Because this isn't basically a marriage proposal. His thumbnail has made its way back into his mouth, he needs to stop that. But he's staring at the innocuous door and spiraling. He knows each bookshelf, each book, where is it, the only ones that are missing are Jason's personal ones. He began to pace, thumbnail in his mouth again, seriously he needs to stop that's blood dammit, he froze as his eyes landed on the cameras seeing fucking Jason in the upstairs on his way down. His wonderful, awful, oft praised brain fucking freezes. Why the FUCK is he here?

Tim stands in front of the door staring at the cameras, mind going everywhere and nowhere as Jason comes into the room.

"There you are prettybird," Jason cooed. "Been looking for you for a minute. Had to ask Babs where you'd gone."

Tim looked over at Jason and slowly blinked trying to come to terms that Jason was here, the library was done, and Jason was HERE.

"Babybird?" Jason squinted as he came over. "You alright?"

Tim jumped and pulled his thumbnail from his mouth, yep that's bleeding, he hid his thumb in his fist, "Uhm, I have, something for you?"

Jason raised an eyebrow leaning down to kiss his forehead, oh there's the butterflies, he loved this man more than anything in the world.

"And what would that be my birdie?" Jason pulled back and saw the door. The door that was very much not there the last time he was here. "You didn't make a sex dungeon did you?"

"What? No, no uhm," Tim stepped aside and motioned to it. "Just, ah, open it."

He gave him a look and Tim's eyes were resolutely not looking at him, but Jay shrugged it off and opened the door. And his heart stuttered.

A library, nothing massive, but the walls were lined with shelves, the carpeted floors were a rich burgundy, the lights bright enough to see but dim enough to feel warm and cozy, the far back wall had the most gorgeous inlaid case, cherry wood hand carved, glass glittering in the light, and in front of it the biggest chair and footrest he'd ever seen. A blanket was draped across the back and it looked like the softest thing he'd ever touch. And best of all? The shelves, minus the ones behind the glass, were full of books, some more worn than others. He went inside and stared, almost afraid to touch. Tim trailed behind silently. There was aside table with a fucking old CD and tape playing radio because Tim knew how much he'd like to listen to his CD's and tapes while reading.

"You… you did this?" Jason asked awe in his voice as he reached out to pick up Paradise Lost.

"Yeah, uhm, surprise?" Tim said weakly, trying not to stick his fucking thumbnail back in his mouth.

"It's beautiful, it's perfect?" Jason looked at him. "You did this for me?"

Tim cocked his head, "Of course? You… you deserve this Jason. More really, but I couldn't get some of the things and I've redone that damn cabinet five times and if I do it a sixth I think I will dismantle the tools I used to carve it."

Jason slowly put the book back moving quickly while Tim was glaring at the cabinet like he was picking out all the flaws even though it was perfect and Tim was the one that made it, taking his birdies face in his hands he kissed him so tenderly.

"I love you," Jason sighed against his lips. "Even if you're a bower-bird, I do feel very wooed."

Tim blushed deeply and his his face in his hands, "Please shut up."

"Nah, you like my mouth too much," Jason chuckled and kissed his head. "Can't wait to read with you in here."

"I did make sure the chair was big enough for both of us," Tim mumbled.

"Good bird."