#pulled out the blue heart just for her……but like it is actually very funny. i have seen it a LOT. and like i get it bc me too 😭

[lesbianlenas]

it’s crazy how many lesbians i have seen watch arcane for caitvi and then be like my favorite character is jinx 💙 what is the hold she has on us…….

[erwinsvow]

𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

summary: rafe's realizing how much better he is now, ever since he met you

word count: 1.6k

now spinning: love song by lana del rey

author's note: can't think about anything else but rafe being happy n content.... eeeee <3

part of this little universe

Rafe’s beginning to think you’re really good for him. 

It starts off pretty small—little things, here and there. The way he doesn’t go to bed completely angry and pent up anymore—that’s because you text him good night, every night, without fail. Even when he doesn’t say it first, even when he’s not on his phone and told you he’d be busy taking care of stuff with his dad all day.

After your first date, when you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck—licking on an ice cream cone he’d bought you after dinner because the two of you were have a difficult time trying to find a reason to end the night—he opens up his phone to add your number to his contacts, and you hover over his shoulder, choosing little emojis to have next to your name and being very picky about it. 

When you finally decide on the perfect combination, he turns to look at your face, which is way too close to his. He decides then and there that you wanted to be kissed, because you’d never get so close if you didn’t. The truth was that you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from how the little blue heart and butterfly and flowers looked next to your name in his phone, but he doesn’t need to know that, not if he’s going to kiss you like that every time. 

And now whenever he picks up his phone and sees those little blue shapes, he feels better, instantaneously. 

So much so that he doesn’t yell at Wheezie and Sarah so much anymore. That’s another small thing— Rafe can’t even recall what he used to get so annoyed about, so angry that he’d pick fights over it. Sarah’s never home anyways, but when she is, you’re making conversation with her, smiling up at Rafe trying to involve him in the discussion about whatever the hell you guys talk about. 

Wheezie’s always home, and he actually realizes how funny she is, especially with you. He sits on the couch with his laptop, looking at things that you don’t understand and don’t really care about, while Sleepless in Seattle plays on the television.

You and Wheezie sit next to each other, half-eaten popcorn and candy scattered between you two, a box of tissues within reach because you told her they were absolutely necessary, even though she didn’t believe you.

Rafe only looks up when hears the unmistakable sound of you sniffling and crying—panicking briefly, trying to make sure he handles this correctly, properly, so he doesn’t scare you away—when he realizes it’s just the movie. 

He lets out a sigh of relief, of which you take note. You turn to hand Wheezie a tissue and then look back at Rafe, worried he’s going to be annoyed that you’re crying over this movie.

It’s silly, because he’s been nothing but nice to you, sweet as sugar all the time, but you remember what your friends used to tell you, the back-and-forth with Sarah, Wheezie’s comments about how much nicer Rafe’s been recently. How he’s been nicer since he met you. You look at him for a little, seconds passing by as your heart thuds in your chest. 

“I can’t believe this-” you hear Wheezie sob in the background, reaching for another handful of popcorn. “They just left!”

You almost turn away from Rafe just then, not wanting to see his reaction, when he closes his laptop and slides his body over to sit closer to you, one hand around your shoulder pulling you close and the other reaching to grab a clean tissue, holding it in his hand for you, for when you need it. You smile against his chest, clasping your hand around his. 

“You really cry over this crap, kid?” You whine, a muffled noise of protest spoken against his shirt, half-hearted. “We all knew they were gonna end up together.”

“Yeah, I guess we did,” you murmur, not paying attention to the movie anymore, eyes hyper-focused on the shiny metal of Rafe’s ring on his fingers. 

“Shut up, Rafe, I’m watching this-”

“You shut up, Wheeze, and pass the chocolate.”

It’s become a regular occurrence, actually, having you around at Tannyhill. You go through plenty of movies with Wheezie, occupying her time while getting to be with Rafe. You join them for their periodic family dinners, dolled up in your nicest clothes even though Rafe tells you it doesn’t matter. He wants you down there in his hoodie, but you refuse.

You want to make a good impression on Ward, you tell him, that it’s important to you if his dad likes you, if he approves of you, if he likes having you around. Rafe doesn’t get why you care—you’ll still be in his life whether Ward approves or not—but he plays along with it.

You wear pretty blue dresses and bring chapter books from the library for Wheezie and some history novels for his dad. You’re all smiles and conversation at their normally silent table, which he thinks is nice. Rafe still believes it would be nicer if it was just the two of you, but he doesn’t say anything. 

A picture constructs itself in his head—you and him at the dinner table of your house, the house you two will have together. You’d decorate everything all cute—he can picture it now—but he’s really focusing on when you and he can have these family dinners together, a couple of high chairs and pureed food and screaming toddlers running around. He doesn’t know where the image came from, probably from the sweet way you are with his family, but now it’s rooted itself like an infection that’s impossible to get rid of. He thinks of it, and feels better, and it must be obvious to everyone around him, but you never say anything.

It’s gotten to the point where even Ward notices it, though he refrained from commenting for as long as he could. Besides for dinner and the occasional Good morning sweetheart when you’re passing through the kitchen with Rafe, he doesn’t bother you two much. 

That’s why it really surprises Rafe when he brings you up one day.

“You seem… better, son,” his father says, and he wants to summon up some kind of retort to fire back, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe the impact you have on him is bigger than he thought. “It’s good. She’s good for you. Make sure you take care of her.”

He thinks for a second. There was a time where the first thing out of his mouth would be Don’t tell me how to treat my girl. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, dad.”

And then, suddenly, you’re everywhere, a part of everything. He can’t even sit in his truck without thinking of how you should be in the passenger seat. His house feels empty when you’re not curled on the couch trying to decide on what movie to rewatch for the millionth time. He can’t even find any insults for your stupid Pogue friends, because of course they want to spend time with you, when you make everything brighter like this. 

Rafe used to think it’d be humiliating to feel like this, actually being dependent on someone for once, acting and doing better because of you and feeling better even when you’re not there. He doesn’t feel humiliated at all though, he feels surprisingly content, despite everything that’s going on. It’s all background noise now. He feels even better when his door opens, and you make your way into his bedroom.

“Hey,” you say, setting down your bag on his desk. It lands with a thud, probably filled with your current read and another couple of books for his sister. “They all went down to the Chateau to smoke, so I just came over, I hope that’s okay-” You stop talking when you turn and see how he’s looking at you, getting up from his bed to walk up to you. “Rafe? You okay?”

You look at him real sweet, like you’re wondering what could be wrong and how you can help fix it. It’s precious, but he already knew that. His father’s words run through his head again—he has to make sure to take good care of you. 

“Perfect. Even better ‘cause you’re here now.” You shove your hand against his chest, letting out a breath of relief.

“You scared me,” you say with a laugh. You go back to your bag, rustling through it to produce three books, just like he guessed. He starts smiling when you turn around to offer it to him.

“Got one for you this time.” You're beaming, eyes looking at him expectantly.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, and he can’t help the smile that’s growing. He brings you in for a hug the way he always does, arm around your shoulder and guiding you to his chest, and you lean against him like that, holding on tight, breathing steady in his grip. Whatever anger and frustration was bubbling inside melts away with every passing second of touching your soft skin and smelling the scent of your hair. 

It’s no surprise when you two end up a tangled mess in bed hours later, your head resting above his heart, wrapped in his grip, while you start reading the book you got for Rafe aloud.

“Y’know what we should do?” he starts, quietly, interrupting you while you’re flipping to the next page. 

“Hm?” you murmur back, feeling your eyes fluttering shut without the book open and ready to read to distract you into staying awake. Rafe’s skin is warm and his grip is tight. You could fall asleep in seconds right now.

“Get married.”

[archangeldyke-all]

what about sev and reader meeting little fucker'd girlfriend's parents?

sevika it's like "im killing your daughter if she hurts my baby" and then one of the parents it's like "no, im killing your daughter if she hurts my daughter" and then sevika just shrugs like "yeah that's fair"

this is just so funny i'm such a sucker for family fics heheh

men and minors dni

your daughter's been dating her girlfriend for two years now, and in the fall they'll be going off to college together, so you and sevika figured it was time to bite the bullet and meet her parents.

it's not that you don't want to. it's just that... your family is definitely a lot for those not as used to it as smooches is (smooches is the nickname the twins came up with for little fucker's girlfriend-- because of all the kisses the two are always sharing) and smooches comes from a quiet family.

she's an only child, both of her parents are super smart lawyer types-- and you and sevika both worry that they'll take one look at your home (currently in disrepair because the twins are going through a 'science experiment' phase) and your family (whose love language is teasing and squabbling) and they'll decide that their daughter actually shouldn't be spending so much time with her girlfriend and family. which would break both of your hearts, because as much as you tease little fucker and smooches--your daughter's girlfriend is basically your family now.

she's over for dinner more nights than not, she spends the night on weekends, and the twins adore her.

so, you're all trying to be on your best behavior at dinner tonight. (trying being the key word, because there are just some familial duties that even the best behavior cannot stop.)

stinkerbutt goes around the table at the restaurant and pulls out each chair for the adults, helping push in smooches' dads in with some help from her twin, kissing you and sevika's cheeks sweetly when she pushes you two up to the table.

shithead very politely stacks all your dishes and glasses together between bread, appetizers, and after dinner-- ensuring the table is easy to clear for the waitresses and there's more room for everyone to spread out.

you and sevika exchange pleasentries with mr. and mr. smooches, asking them about work and drama on the pta at the girls' high school-- and you even get some friendly banter going when it's revealed that sevika and one of smooches' dads' share favorite television shows. they spend about fifteen minutes gushing to each other about the writing while you and smooches' remaining dad roll your eyes fondly-- both happy they're not talking to you about the nerdy shit for a change.

there's not one stain on any of your sort-of matching outfits-- little fucker wanted to look like a unit so she insisted you all wear blue-- and you're under the impression that you've made it through the night with out incident.

you're wrong.

but, surprisingly, it isn't your family that starts it tonight.

"i have to say something." mr. smooches mumbles at the end of the night as you're waiting for dessert to be brought to the table.

"babe--" his husband responds, in that same placating tone you recognize from how often you use it on sevika. "it's been such a nice night."

"pops please don't." smooches groans from her seat beside him.

still, mr. smooches clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine before speaking.

"you all are a lovely family," he begins while his daughter groans and hides her face behind her hands, "and i am so grateful my daughter's found someone who loves her so much-- and someone whose family loves her too..." you all wait in tense silence for him to continue.

"but?" little fucker asks.

"but it is my duty as a father to tell all of you that if my daughter is ever hurt-- physically or emotionally-- i do know lawyers who can make murder charges disappear." he says with a shrug.

you raise an eyebrow at his husband, impressed, and he groans and buries his own face in his hands-- just like his daughter.

beside you, sevika bursts into laughter and smacks his back. "i didn't think you had it in you!" she cackles.

"what do you mean?" smooches asks from between her dads, her mortification lessening at sevika's reaction.

"i've been watchin' your old man try to work up the courage to threaten us all night."

"it wasn't a threat! it was just a fun fact about myself i wanted to share." smooches dad says with a growing smile. sevika cackles.

"well, here's a fun fact about our family-- together i think we've got, what was it babe? twenty three?"

"twenty four." you fill in for sevika. sevika grins and kisses your cheek.

"twenty four cousins in prison, so, y'know. we probably wouldn't be able to get rid of the charges, but we'd definitely know how to handle the bodies." she says with a shrug.

the table bursts into laughter, and mr. smooches reaches across the table to give sevika a solid handshake.

you and his husband sit back and watch with fond amusement as your daughters attempt to sneak away from the table without anybody noticing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[randxmthxughts]

Nerves talking - Neteyam x Crybaby!Reader

summary: after spending months teaching his little sister's friend how to hunt, neteyam is surprised by the lack of her progress. later on, he discovers then that she is just too nervous to be around him because of her not-so-small crush

wc: 3.1k

contains: miscommunication trope, reader as a sensitive mess, kiri being mvp

masterlist

incredible art by @ArtKokhan on twitter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Try again,” Neteyam ordered, as he watched you adjust your grip on the bow.

You gulped, trying to shove the growing frustration back into your stomach. The more you missed the target, the more embarrassed you felt to be working under Neteyam’s watchful eye. Especially because you hadn’t hit it even once since the lesson had started.

And it wasn’t like Neteyam was a strict teacher or would ever get angry with you for failing. On the contrary, his approach was gentle, patient. Even when his father first ordered him to teach his sister how to hunt, and you were pulled along into it by Kiri, Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the extra student. Though, somewhere along the way, Kiri grew tired of archery and started missing the lessons, leaving you alone with Neteyam more frequently than your poor heart could ever handle. 

You had the biggest crush on the man, always so jittery and nervous to be in his presence that you could hardly concentrate at all. Every time Neteyam would correct your stance, or help you with the bow, all your blood rushed to your ears, skin feeling tingly and hot even by the faintest of his touches. And he genuinely didn’t even suspect it; always being his lovely, charming self, throwing jokes and compliments your way, as if you weren’t one of his worst students. What was more ironic that you were actually a decent archer when practicing in your own company. 

As you aimed and released the arrow, it sailed towards the painted tree with a loud swoosh and hit the outer ring. You let out a disappointed sigh, shoulders hunching immediately in discomfort, but it didn’t seem to discourage Neteyam. Instead, he stepped close to you, and guided your weak stance with a gentle touch. 

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he advised in a low voice, and you knew for sure that he could feel the goosebumps covering your skin.

As he didn’t rush to step away, his warm breath on your neck, and his hand resting lightly on your back, you became even more flustered. Oh, this was going to suck, you thought. And just like you expected, Neteyam’s proximity to you made matters worse; this time the arrow didn’t even graze the tree, but flew downwards and dug itself into the ground. Neteyam chuckled softly.

“Well, we’re getting somewhere,” he flicked the tip of your nose, “But next time try to aim for the target.”

“Very funny,” you mumbled, shying away from his playful gesture, “I don’t think I can ever hit it.”

“Hey, what did I say about the negative-talk?”

You watched as he took out his own bow and aimed at a fruit that was hanging precariously from a far tree branch. He took a breath and released the arrow, hitting its mark perfectly.

“Bad thoughts hinder the growth,” you answered simultaneously with the thud of the fruit hitting the ground

“Good girl.”

Neteyam went to retrieve the fruit, his back turned, and in that moment you could have sworn that Eywa was looking out for you and saving you from being caught in your deepest shade of blue. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” he turned around with a smile, throwing you the fruit. You managed to catch it, “Have some, you need to eat.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, did Neteyam teach you that?” Kiri pointed at the arrow that landed close to the bullseye, its tail springing up and down from the force of the release.

You let out a bitter chuckle, unsure of how to respond to Kiri's question. It was true that you often went to train by yourself to work on your composure around Neteyam, meticulously recalling every piece of advice he had given you. But the moment you were around him, it seemed like all of that knowledge seemed to evaporate into thin air.

“To be quite honest, I had no hopes for you,” Kiri teased.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes at her, “I can actually kick your ass now.”

“Is that so? Let’s see it then,” she challenged, gesturing towards the target.

You grinned with a newfound confidence, taking out another arrow. You guessed that it was definitely the effect of Neteyam and his amber eyes because you didn’t feel nearly as nervous when you were being watched by Kiri. Instead, there was a surge of sureness when you looked at the arrows you shot before, clustered around the closest circle to the middle. You adjusted your stance like a pro, and Kiri couldn’t deny it, she was actually impressed with the way you presented yourself.

It didn’t take you long to focus and shoot, the arrow landing exactly in the bullseye with a swift release. Kiri clapped her hands, releasing a loud excited squeak, and pulled you into a hug. 

“You’re actually a pro!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist the sweet satisfaction of your accomplishment. You usually had to reserve it for yourself but sharing it with Kiri felt more special. 

But as you let your chin rest on her shoulder, and she went on about how impressed she was, you spotted a figure not too far away. Your eyes widened at the realization that it was Neteyam, and you rapidly pulled away from Kiri in the shame of being watched by him. With heavy steps, Neteyam approached you, forcing you to lower your gaze to the ground. What if he draws a connection between his teaching and you failing miserably, and cracks your little secret about the not-so-little crush? 

“Y/N, did you shoot all of these?” he asked, the slight anger in his voice catching both you and Kiri off guard. 

She looked in between you confused, never having seen her brother to be so tense around you. Clearly, the possibility of Neteyam getting irritated with you hadn’t even crossed either of your minds.

“She did, even the bullseye,” Kiri shrugged, “Why are you so grumpy about it?”

"So all this time you were pretending to be bad at it, even though you knew how to shoot?" Neteyam ignored her, his tone more accusatory.

“Hey, back off,” Kiri scrunched up her nose in irritation, gently shoving Neteyam to make him move. He took a few involuntary steps back, but his expression remained cold and frustrated. 

“No, I wasn’t pretending, I really didn’t know how to…” you trailed off, staring at the ground. The lump growing in your throat at the accusation was making you too emotional to remain calm. You had never heard Neteyam speak to you that way before, and you were afraid that you might burst into tears if you had to look at him.

“We have been having lessons for months, Y/N. You think this was a funny prank to pull? Do you have any idea how much time I wasted, and for what?” he let out a disappointed sigh, his hands falling to his sides.

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to meet Neteyam's gaze. You couldn't tell him the real reason, at least not like this, not here. His anger was morphing into disappointment, which was confusing, because he was usually so patient with you. But Neteyam hated being lied to, and he didn't want to feel like a fool for your own entertainment. He wondered if you had been going around with other hunters, showing off your skills while he put all his time and energy into teaching you something you already knew. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say with a sniff, tears already welling in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

Neteyam only shook his head in response, his expression softening slightly as he caught the glistening of the tears you were barely holding back. He exhaled loudly through his nose and stormed off, and the second he was gone, the tears broke like a rainstorm.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

If you had thought that being around charming Neteyam was difficult, you had clearly underestimated facing angry Neteyam. The cold shoulder he kept giving you was agonizing, eating you from the inside slowly and painfully. And being the way that you were, you could cry on the spot every time he ignored you in public. 

Kiri was convinced that the only solution to your reconciliation would be telling him the truth. Neteyam had been burned by being taken advantage of before; girls pretending to be incompetent at things they were actually skilled at to gain his attention, and completely disregarding his time. Especially with the intensity of his Olo’eyktan training, Neteyam barely had time to breathe, let alone use it on someone who didn’t need his help.

And what you didn’t know was that it especially hurt Neteyam that it was you. Someone he had grown to care for and looked forward to meeting up with. A chore that didn’t feel like one. If he had a choice, he would spend all day watching over you, guiding you through every misstep without a care. Because being around you allowed him to drop down his guard and be himself, something he struggled with as the future Olo’eyktan burdened with heavy responsibilities. There was no pressure to perform.

Your shy nature, your sensitivity, was what encouraged him to be more open, light-hearted. You were so comforting to him, Neteyam felt like he could crack jokes and even flirt sometimes, without feeling guilty for it. Oh, he thought he was such a fool for believing anyone could ever see him for the way he was.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You gripped the handle of the basket so tightly, your knuckles had turned white with the effort. Holding it close to your chest, it was much heavier than you remembered, filled to the brim with fruits picked out from the tallest trees grazed by the sunlight, and aromatic herbs woven into bouquets. It was naive to think it could be enough to get Neteyam’s forgiveness but you still felt bad. Very bad. 

As you approached the corner of their house, he suddenly sprang out in front of you, causing you to stumble and almost drop the basket. You were startled, but Neteyam seemed unimpressed to see you there.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. 

“I just wanted to give you this and apologize again,” you mumbled, offering him the basket. 

But as Neteyam stared at your outreached hands with pursed lips, he made no effort to accept it. He stepped back with a shake of his head, and you could feel your heart sink.

“I don’t want it.”

"I didn't mean to offend you - ," you began to explain yourself, trying to remain calm but your vision was already blurring from tears.

“You had done enough already,” he scoffed and walked past you, leaving you standing there. 

You let the basket hang in your hands, so heavy, you were barely holding it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in big drops, and despite your mind telling you to go back home, it was like your feet were glued to the ground.

“Y/N?” Kiri’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You hurried to wipe away the evidence of your humiliation but Kiri was quick to draw the connection between the look on your face and the basket filled with gifts. Without hesitation, she pulled you into their home and sat you down on the ground.

“Don’t cry, Y/N, it wasn’t your fault,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “It was all a big misunderstanding, I’m sure Neteyam will come around.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to him,” emotions were overflowing within you, and between your sniffling, Kiri had to concentrate to make out your words, “I just like him so much, he makes me shaky...”

“Well, you have to tell him that he makes you nervous,” Kiri urged with a softened gaze, “Neteyam will be flattered.”

“No, he will think I am pathetic,” you shook your head.

“He won’t,” she disagreed, "I mean, you didn't even want him to teach you in the first place. I forced you into the lessons and left you alone. Honestly, it was my fault."

“It wasn’t,” you sniffled again, “I shouldn’t have wasted his time like that. He taught me so much but I just can’t concentrate around him… I can’t even talk to him sometimes, let alone shoot well.”

A small smile stretched Kiri’s lips, the sight of her friend confessing to her such obvious feelings was amusing. Like everybody else, Kiri had known well that you were soft, taking the smallest things to your heart. And though the solution seemed too clear to her, she didn't want to interfere in something that should be left between you and Neteyam. Instead, she was prominent in only nudging either of you in the right direction. She threw a meaningful look at the entrance where she had sensed Neteyam’s lingering for some time now. 

When he saw you tear up at the refusal of the gift and stormed off, Neteyam’s heart couldn’t bear it to know it was already the second time that he made you cry. And no matter how disappointed he was with you, he just simply wasn’t going to tolerate the thought of you being so upset over him. The regret pushed him to chase after you, to apologize and hope that the words he’d pour out would be enough to calm you down. And it was then when he overheard you crying to his sister, the confession stopping him in his tracks. 

His heartbeat was so loud, it filled out his ears and vibrated through his throat. Neteyam came to a stunning realization that the feelings he had buried deep within himself were reciprocated. That the reason why he was never frustrated with your slowness was finally justified; all this time, he secretly hoped you would need his guidance for as long as possible, just so he could spend more time with you. The sight of your delicate tear-stained face, glistening eyes adorned with long lashes clumped together, made him want to hold you and never let go. Yet, knowing that he had such an effect on you made Neteyam feel like the happiest man on Pandora.

“I think it’s my cue to leave,” Kiri stood up, glancing at her brother.

You frowned at her sudden movement and followed her gaze to the entrance. Neteyam stepped in nervously, his eyes locking with yours. Mixed emotions washed over him like a bucket of cold water, drenching him to the bone. You liked him. And he hurt you for it. Embarrassed and flustered, you clung to Kiri’s hand, silently pleading for her to stay, not wanting to be left alone with him.

“Can we talk?” Neteyam asked quietly.

He caught your attention just enough to allow Kiri to slip away. She nudged him playfully upon her exit and there you were... Has he heard your confession? The look on his face was so sour, almost like he was readying himself to turn you down.

“Y/N, first, I must apologize for being this cold with you,” his voice was soft, startling you slightly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, never expecting it. Was Neteyam apologizing? He hesitated before lowering himself to the ground in front of you. His eyes observed the basket of gifts for a moment, as he was pondering over his next words.

“And I also heard what you said to Kiri about me. And I...I didn't know you felt that way."

Your heart beated trepidly at his words, humiliation flooding your veins immediately. You had never intended for him to find out, especially not like this. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, this must be worse than if I had pulled a prank on you instead,” your voice was so sincere with apology, it mortified him.

“No, no, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong,” he shook his head so desperately, it must have strained his neck, "And I don't want you to feel like you have to impress me or anything. I just want us to be... comfortable with each other. I guess, just didn’t think you liked me so much, I threw you off your game,” he chuckled weakly.

“This is so embarrassing,” you covered your face with your palms, but Neteyam was quick to gently peel them away. He lifted your chin with his fingers, urging you to look at him.

“No, I think it’s cute… you’re very cute.”

“W-what?”

You stammered, the words you could only wish to hear in your dreams were spilling out of his mouth. How could he have been that blind towards your affections? You were always carefree and bubbly with others, but so shy with him. And Neteyam adored your shyness, he just couldn’t believe he had never made a connection before.

He beamed at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your timid nature, delicate features, the way you blushed under his gaze. Neteyam leaned closer, the proximity sending shivers down your spine.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

You blinked in shock, your gaze darted between his captivating eyes and his plump lips. Unable to hold back any longer, Neteyam leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He kissed you, and it was as if the world around you had ceased to exist. Your mind went blank as his soft lips moved in sync with yours, and his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer in a gentle, swift move. Everything he did was perfect. He was perfect.

Neteyam pulled away for breath with a toothy grin, leaving you completely wordless. You tried to calm your own breathing, but the feeling of the kiss was still too fresh on your lips, blushing profusely as he leaned back.

He observed the basket once more before reaching out to pluck a fruit from it. As he brought it to his lips and took a bite, you couldn't help stealing glances at him, desperately appreciating the way he savored it.

"Thank you," he said, looking up at you, "This is delicious."

And with no further warning, he pressed his lips against yours once more, his gratefulness manifesting in that sweet gesture. Your cheeks flamed as you savored the taste of fruit on his lips. When you parted, Neteyam rested his forehead on yours, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I can keep up with our lessons after this,” you joked, trying to ease the tension between you.

“Mhm, maybe we should just try out a new reward system instead,” he teased back. Your laughter bubbled up at his words, and Neteyam thought it was going to become his favorite sound in the world.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (let me know if you want to be added):

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Never Date Your Celeb Crush (Homelander)

Description: Y/N is obsessed with Homelander....Until she gets him in bed.

Warning: Smutty

Word Count: 656

Request: I can’t find the actual request but it was sent in a while ago and they wanted one where the reader is obsessed with Homelander until they find out he is bad in bed.

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. The Homelander was looking at her in such a provocative way. Like he wanted her. Y/N thought she was dreaming at first but realized the entire night she was getting eye fucked by the man of her dreams.

She fantasizes about Homelander. The one and only thing she understood about FireCracker was the Homelander obsession. Though she was jealous of her and would die to be in her position and by the looks of it, She might be.

Homelander had never seen her around before and was nearly drooling at how good she looked. The red dress and the blue heels, was she trying to impress him? He had a big ego but he wasn’t wrong.

She laughed as she talked to one of the other party goers but her eyes kept drifting back to Homelander and he took note of that. It wouldn’t be too much later that he made his way towards her and she felt her heart stop.

He was much bigger and intimidating in person and up close. Homelander looked at her like she was a piece of meat but she didn’t mind one bit. “Hello.” He said and she struggled to keep herself together even though he was the one talking to her and started the conversation.

One thing led to another and she ended up back at his penthouse. He pushed her on the bed a little too hard but she shrugged it off as he got on top of her and started kissing her. The kiss was rough and hard, very sloppy and just not good.

She tried to set the pace but he wouldn't let her and kept doing his thing. She tried to ignore the fact that he was a bad kisser but once his hand drifted off to her pussy that wasn’t as wet as she would be if things were going good, she couldn’t hold back the laugh that had escaped her mouth.

He couldn’t even give her pleasure while rubbing her clit. Homelander pulled away from her neck with a very confused look on his face. Oh that was even more funny. “Homelander, have you ever had sex before?” That was a dumb question but his experience seemed to be leading towards that factor.

“Excuse me?” He was offended now. “Your kisses are too rough and sloppy and you can’t even rub my clit right.” His eyes were wide as she told him these things.

He was perfect in his eyes. He was the being of all and this mortal human with no powers was degrading him like this? “I am a god. I am the almighty. I am the Homelander and you think you get to say those things to me.” He gripped her face which caused her to freak out. “I’m sorry. I’m just not enjoying this.” She whispered.

“You should be grateful that I would even allow myself to you.” He growled. Wow he really was egotistical. “You’re right.” She said but he just rolled his eyes and got off her. She watched him as he paced his room, wondering what was on his mind.

“I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He rolled his eyes at her comment. Upset? Homelander wasn’t capable of feeling many things. He would never admit to such things.

“I want you to leave.” He told her and she stared at him in shock. She wasn’t upset like she thought she would be at his request. “Get out.” He yelled at her and she jumped up and got dressed. “Uh sir? I have no idea where I am.” She said and he sighed.

She looked at him as he picked her up and flew her back to the party.Before she could say anything else to him he flew off. She stood there repeating the past hour in her head and decided that there wasn’t anything special about him.

[junnieverse]

XOXO ➳ L. HEESEUNG

➙ synopsis: for as long as you'd known heeseung, who happened to be your best friend's twin brother, he was just that annoying kid who stole your blue highlighter in 4th grade and was a menace to you from that day on, but somehow along the way he stole your heart too.

pairing: lee heeseung x afab!reader

genre: fluff, best friend's brother au

word count: 1.1k

request: " hi! i have a fluff request ^^ . i don’t have a specific situation in mind but imagine reader’s first kiss with hee, she initiates it with a quick kiss but is unsure if hee actually likes her back, so she starts to pull away but then hee cups her face, pulls her back and deepens the kiss without ever breaking it "

warnings: not proofread

a/n: hi anon, tysm for this request, I enjoyed writing this so I hope you and all my other readers enjoy reading it too~ ^_^

a/n (2): just wanted to let everyone know incase you don't, I do have an enhypen series out so please do check it out if you'd like :)

"I swear if your brother touches my hair again, I'm going to uppercut him." you tell your best friend next to you as you comb through your previously ruffled hair.

You had known Heeseung for as long as you'd been friends with your best friends which was equivalently, many... many years.

You loved your best friend but her brother would never leave you alone.

He had his days where he was sweet with you but most of the time you were fighting back the urge to high kick his pretty little face.

"He says ruffling your hair before a game is his good luck charm." you friend says shrugging her shoulders as she munches on her popcorn.

"Yeah well he better find another goodluck charm, he's ruining my good hair days." you defend glaring at the boy who happened to run across the basketball court with his teammates.

You tried so hard to despise him and how smart, funny, considerate and kind he was, but oh how you wanted to so badly run over to Heeseung on the court and just kiss him.

This was someone who didn't necessarily make the best of impressions on you the first time seeing as he stole your blue highlighter in 4th grade, but the bright side was if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have met your best friend who happened to return the very same highlighter apologising for her 'stupid' twin brother who took it in the first place.

From that day on, you made Heeseung your nemesis, he didn't know he was, so yes, your one sided nemesis, you were a grudge holder.

Heeseung did eventually apologise in which you forgave him but you weren't easy to forget about it either.

Over the years of growing a friendship with your best friend, her brother was seemingly in the picture too.

They were close, but they would also banter and tease each other alot like many other siblings did and you found that dynamic between them special.

Heeseung soon started treating you the same, yes he was sweet to you when he wanted to be but most of the time it was just teasing and being playful and sometimes even the subtle flirting.

Although a year ago everything started changing.

You had had a very romantic and somewhat suggestive dream about him and for days you had tried avoiding Heeseung because you were embarrassed to even think you could possibly think of him in that light.

For years you had only seen him platonically but all of a sudden one dream put everything into a new perspective that just maybe... you had feelings for your best friend's brother.

After avoiding him for almost a week straight, Heeseung obviously thought he did something and so he offered to take you out to lunch as an 'apology' still having no idea he had actually done nothing wrong and it was all just you going through some intrapersonal conflict.

But he had won you over and you were simply left dealing with new feelings for Heeseung you were afraid to admit.

Let alone to your best friend.

"Okay let's start working on this project." Heeseung says as you both walked into his bedroom to work.

It didn't feel all too unfamiliar since you'd been in here before when his sister was around but it felt odd since it would just be the both of you alone this time.

In one of the classes you shared with Heeseung, your professor had assigned everyone a partner for a new project for the semester and Heeseung just happened to be the person you were paired up with leading to this moment. 

You had both been working hand in hand for the past hour and a half now and there was great progress being made.

"How about we take a short break since we've been working for a while now." you say turning to Heeseung next to you who happened to already be looking at you.

"Stop looking at me like that, call me a bug like you always do already." you mumble rolling your eyes as you break away from his staring.

"You're actually really beautiful." he says leaning on the table with one hand as he smiles admiring your facial features.

"Funny, are you getting sick, never heard you compliment me in a minute." you joke with him putting your hand on his forehead but his temperature was normal.

Unexpectedly Heeseung gently pulls your hand away leaning his face closer to yours.

Your heart was beating right out of your chest at the close proximity between you both, was he going to do it.

You notice his gaze go from your eyes to your lips and back as you did the same, both of you seemingly waiting for the other to make the first move.

To both of your suprise, you were the one to initiate the first move pressing your lips together finally kissing him.

But the moment was quick to end as the thought of your best friend catching you both crossed your mind and you hesitantly pulled away.

"We shouldn't-" you start off but you were cut off by Heeseung pulling you back in for a second kiss.

This time he deepened the kiss a gentle hand on your cheek and you felt like this moment wouldn't end.

This time Heeseung pulled away leaving a soft peck on your cheeks and nose and reality hit you once again.

Standing up abruptly you began walking back and forth around the room not believing what you'd just done.

"Oh my gosh, I just kissed my best friend's brother. She's gonna hate me. She'll never want to be friends with me anymore. Why did i kiss you. No I shouldn't like you in the first place." you ramble nervously as you hit your forehead for your reckless decision.

"Wait... you like me back?" he asks scratching the back of his neck as he stood up walking towards you.

You'd forgotten he could hear everything you were saying and you had accidentally confessed your feelings indirectly.

Well there was no trying to hide or run away from it.

But he said 'back', doesn't that mean he likes you too?!

"I do like you but-" you tell him as he stood in front of you holding your hands in his as he stopped you probably sensing what you were going to say.

"My sister probably wouldn't care, you're worried about nothing. What matters is that we both like each other and I think we should go out on our first date." he reassures you as you nod.

"I'd like that."

[lostcherise]

Sturdy

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!reader

summary: you bought a nightstand from whom you feared to be a serial killer online, but turns out he was the complete opposite. now you had to find a way to see him again.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), throat fucking, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, degrading names (he calls you a dirty slut)

word count: 3,037

a/n: not proof read, couldn't wait to post this lmao, also was listening to this when i was writing this

"Are you sure about this one?" your sister sighed with furrowed eyebrows. She peered over your shoulder from where you were sitting on your couch, legs crossed over one another; your laptop resting on your thighs.

"Yeah." you lied and waved her off without even turning to look at her. "What's there to be scared about? Lots of people sell and buy stuff online. It's no big deal." you said, this time you gave her a sideways glance over your shoulder. "Really." you added, trying to reassure her.

Your gaze followed your sister, as she made her way to the couch and planted herself right next to you with a sigh. Her head rolled over on her left shoulder, and she lifted her eyes to look at you disbelievingly.

"And lots of other people end up getting murdered." she countered, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead as she tried to make her point. "Just order a brand new one from IKEA." she quipped, taking a sip from the coffee in her hands.

Disgusted and somewhat offended at her suggestion, you turned to fully look at her. "They don't make pieces like these! Plus, this one is an actual antique. Completey refurbished, too, might I add." you countered, to which your sister mock nodded in agreement, her eyes comically wide, as she looked back at you.

"Just know that I won't be crying at your funeral." and with that she dropped the subject.

────────────────────────────

Despite your sister's best efforts, you had pulled through with the online listing. So here you were, waiting inside your car at a Fred Meyer parking lot. You had arrived about 15 minutes early, as you usually did with all your appointments. Maybe that wasn't very wise, considering Alaskan winters were brutal. But, thank God for air conditioning. About 5 minutes before the arranged meeting time, you stepped out, remaining close to the door; in case it actually turned out to be a blood thirsty murderer and you had to make a quick escape.

Although you had set up a public place as a meeting place, it was still fairly quiet. There about 5 other cars parked at that moment, but it was just you out there. The rumbling sound of a large pick up rolling in from behind you caught your attention. However, you didn't get to see who was inside through the windshield, as they turned and parked at the empty parking spot directly opposite yours.

It was definitely them, that was for sure. The top of the nightstand that was just barely peeking through the truck bed of the black Ford F150 gave it away. Their truck was too polished and well kept to give off murderer vibes, you thought. Your heart thumped in your chest, as the stranger got out of their car.

Well, I'll be damned.

You now stood face to face with what could've been the hottest guy you had laid eyes on in a while. He stood just a couple inches taller than you, his eyes a striking blue. The deep, large scars adorning the right side of his face told a much darker story, but they added to the ruggedness of his looks, along with his short trimmed beard. That paired with his all black attire, screamed bad boy in your books. Which was conveniently your type; also the reason you had been painfully single for a while.

"Hey," his buttery smooth voice broke the silence. "I'm Jesse." he introduced himself with an outstretched hand.

Dumbfounded, you silently shook his hand back. Jesse gave you a funny look, and smiled at you slightly. "You wanna take a look?" he pointed his thumb towards the truck, where the nightstand was.

"Shit, yeah." you had completely forgotten about that. You observed, as he opened the truck bed, and reached for the nightstand to pull it closer.

"So, this is it. An antique, Gothic Revival handcarved, mahogany dresser, with a dark chocolate finish. A real beauty." Jesse spoke in his husky voice. To be frank, you didn't register anything of what he had just said, too busy imagining that voice saying other stuff to you. "Oh, and brand new brass handles too. Made sure the design fit the style though." he kept on rambling. It was kind of endearing how into this he was.

"I'll take it." you simply said, to which Jesse gratefully smiled.

You tried to help him carry it over to your car, but he adamantly refused. Jesse bid you goodbye, and moved to his car. Anxious, you tapped your foot against the concrete; tried to think of an excuse to get to see him again. You were far too horny and single to let on this chance pass.

"Hold up." you jogged up to him, catching him just before he was about to climb into his car. "I, uh," you paused. "I'm actually upgrading my bedroom furniture, so I'll definitely be needing more stuff." you smiled sheepishly.

Jesse simply nodded as an indication for you to keep going, his breath coming out hot and puffy against the nipping cold air. He looked at you with a faint knowing smile and waited for you to continue.

"So, I was thinking of getting your number, easier to contact." you gestured obviously. "You accept commissions, right?"

"Yeah, just text me the measurements, type of wood, color and design, and it'll be ready for you in a few weeks." Jesse informed you, his tone professional.

He was doing business, and all you could think of was ways you wanted him to fuck you.

"How 'bout you come and take the measurements now?

────────────────────────────

Okay, maybe inviting him over to your house was a bit too forward.

You stood awkwardly, and leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, observing him as he took the measurements of your old bed.

"You want coffee?"

"Maybe next time?" he smiled and came up to stand next to you. "I'll be waiting for more details on the bed..." his voice trailed off expectantly.

It then hit you that you had never properly introduced yourself to him. A blush quickly crept its way onto your cheeks and you softly told him your name. Jesse repeated it, a soft smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes took you in. You swore your name had never sounded so beautiful and sensual coming out of someone's mouth before. To your dismay, he left your house much too soon.

It took Jesse about three weeks to complete your new bed frame. And you had to admit, that man sure did wonders with his hands. The bed frame looked stunning, and it emulated the Gothic style of your nightstand perfectly.

You silently wondered what else those hands were good for, while you helped him set up your bed. You also observed him silently; his buzzcut was slightly longer than what it was when you had first met him, and you liked it a little more. It still wasn't long enough to pull on, sadly. While Jesse was using your bathroom, you quickly put on some new sheets.

"So, whatcha think?" his voice sounded from behind you. He was leaning on the door frame, one outstretched hand resting on the door frame, while the other was in his back pocket.

"It's beautiful..." you complimented his work.

"But?" Jesse asked, sensing from your tone that you wanted to add something else. He walked up to stand behind you.

"I'm not sure if it's sturdy enough." you finally added, your voice now lower.

He looked at you with confusion painted all over his features. His frown deepened when you took one step closer to him; you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"Do you mind if we check?" you finally asked the burning question that was plaguing your mind ever since he had gotten there to set up the bed.

And that's when it clicked in Jesse's head. You observed as confusion slowly faded from his face. His icy blue eyes darkening, glinting with a sense of newfound lust and desire. This time, Jesse was the one to take a step forward, your bodies touching; his lips merely an inch away from yours.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" his voice was thick with need.

"I was hoping you'd show me." you almost whined.

A shocked gasp fell past your lips as Jesse harshly pushed you on the mattress. This aggressive side was unexpected, but you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that it had gotten your panties soaked.

He grabbed both your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, and pushed your legs back into a mating press position and stood in between your legs, grinding his hardening cock against your clothed pussy.

With a rough hand on your jaw, he pulled into a hungry kiss and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth; his tongue seizing this opportunity to explore your mouth. You whined into the kiss, and ground your hips harder against his, causing him to groan.

You had never been manhandled like this before, and you were almost sure his hand was going to bruise your jaw. But it would be a big, fat lie to say that you weren't extremely turned on right now. His hand moved further down at the base of your neck, just above your clavicle. Now, his lips found their way to where his hand once was on your jaw, leaving a trail of burning kisses as he made his way down on your neck. Jesse's teeth grazed your soft skin, making sure to leave angry red marks on you.

While his left hand remained enclosed around your neck, his right one traveled down and inside your panties, shoving a finger in without a warning.

An involutary gasp fell from your lips, not because it hurt - you were so wet, it slipped in with ease - it had just caught you of guard.

"Fuck." Jesse moaned into your neck, his finger moving in and out of you, and soon a second one followed suit. "Can't wait to stretch that pussy. But I need a taste first."

"Please." you begged, gripping his shoulders tightly with both hands, as he made his way down on you while simultaneously taking off your pants and underwear.

Jesse took a moment to take in the sight in front of him. You, laid up on the bed, legs folded over your stomach, and your glistening pussy perfectly open and ready for him. He wasted no moment, and swiftly began having his way with you. He took a long lick, from up to your clit and all the way down to your slit and right back up, the tip of his tongue just barely slipping in your entrance as he did so.

You raked your fingers through his short hair, when he repeated the same action two more times, and then he focused on your clit. His tongue circled around your bud and your hips bucked against his face, causing him to bury his nose into your pussy. Your eyes moved down, and you saw him looking directly at you as he lapped at your pussy, occasionally sucking your clit softly. He then inserted a finger into you, a gesture that made your thighs squeeze around his head.

He never did break eye contact, even as you squeezed your thighs so tightly around him, you almost suffocated him. A scream left your throat as an unexpected orgasm was ripped from you, his fingers curling up inside you as they fucked out your high.

You had never cummed so hard from getting head before. Hell, you weren't even sure if you had ever come before, just from someone eating you out.

Once your thighs fell limp on his shoulders, Jesse lifted himself up. "Stay on the bed, but get on your knees." he ordered and you complied without a sound. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't wait to feel him heavy against your tongue.

"Atta girl." Jesse slapped your cheek softly in praise. You watched silently, as he moved to unbuckle his belt, then quickly undo his jeans. They fell on the floor with a soft thump, along with his underwear.

You swore your mouth was watering at the sight of Jesse's cock, and even if it was concealed by the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs; it was obvious he was well endowed. Without waiting another command from him, you moved to remove his underwear, and all you could do was moan at the sight of his cock springing free. His tip swollen and pink.

"Fuck." you moaned and opened your mouth to take him in. His hand messily grabbed your hair into a ponytail, and guided your head on his cock. Jesse groaned you took the tip in, a string of curses following suit. You looked up at him, moving your head to take him further into your mouth, your tongue laid out flat on the underside of his dick.

Jesse threw his head back, your mouth was so soft at warm, he wanted to fill you up to the point you would be choking around his dick. And so he pushed your head further down, his cock twitching the moment you gagged softly around him. He kept pushing your head, until your nose bumped against his pelvic bone. With a pull on your ponytail, he pushed your head back and watched as you gasped for air.

He let you take in three deep breaths before he pushed your head on his cock again and began pushing him self down your throat. Tears began to brim around your eyes as you choked and struggled for breath around his length, and Jesse smiled when your gazes locked.

"Love it when you choke on it, like a dirty slut." he spat, before pushing halfway through to let you take another deep breath, before he started picking up his pace. The tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but moan, sending vibrations around his dick. Jesse couldn't also help but groan at the sensation, if he continued fucking your mouth like this, he was gonna let it all down your throat.

And although as much as he loved your mouth right now, he really wanted to see how you felt around him. Grabbing you again by your hair, he pulled you of his cock and ordered for you to turn around, and scoot up on the bed. You felt the mattress dip when he climbed up behind you.

Jesse grabbed the base of his cock, moving it to drag along your folds, gathering up all of your slick and coating his dick with it. He kept teasing your entrance with his tip, and you whined softly beneath him. With a wiggle of your hips, you pushed back, feeling the tip slip in.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So," Jesse scolded softly, "fucking," he groaned when he pushed the entirety of his length into your wetness. "impatient." he finished his sentence once he bottomed out inside of you. His balls grazed your clit lightly, you were arched so perfectly for him, he was hitting all the right spots.

He moved to position himself, lifting one knee up, for better leverage and grabbed a fistful of your hair once more. His fingers curled tightly around the roots, sending a sweet and pleasurable wave of pain to your core, one that had you moaning.

That's all Jesse needed to hear and he began to mercilessly pound his hips into you. He pulled your head back by your hair, and you screamed as he had his way with you.

"You're so big." you moaned and his grip on your hair tightened.

"You take me so well." Jesse praised and moved his head down, his lips on level with your ear. "Taking my cock like a little slut." And with that he roughly let go of your head and you fell face first into the mattress.

In this position, your arch deepened causing him to fuck deeper into you. You felt the weight of his hand pressing down on your head and you screamed into the mattress when his pace grew quicker and harder.

In that moment, you were so thankful your house was a bit secluded; you wouldn't want to worry any neighbors with the way Jesse had you screaming. You felt the bed groan and creak and you thought it was going to give out beneath you.

Jesse abruptly pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of his dick, you felt so incredibly empty without him. With one swift movement, he flipped you over onto your back, his hand moving around your throat, just beneath your jawline.

"I want to look at your face when you cum." he said and squeezed your throat. He moved to push your legs above his shoulders, fucking into you so deep, it had you seeing stars.

His skin slapped agains yours, your wet pussy making lewd sounds around his cock. Jesse's hand squeezed your neck, pushing all the air out from your throat. His hips never once faltered, his pace steady against yours.

"Just like that." he cooed, watching your eyes roll back into your head at the lack of air, and just when you began clenching around him, he released his grip.

"Fuck!" you screamed, your head digging back into the mattress. The tight cord in your core snapped, and it had you clenching and gushing all over him.

Jesse smiled down at you, proud at how hard he had just made you cum. He kept fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as he chased his own. His balls tightened while they slapped against your swollen cunt - he was close. He quickly pulled out and with two pumps, he came all over your stomach with a long throaty moan, painting you with his cum.

You were both heaving, now laying next to each other, not saying a word. It was Jesse who broke the silence, he turned to look at you with a wolfish grin.

"Seems pretty sturdy to me."

[kataraavatara]

tadaaaa, here it is, my secret santa gift for @thrumbolt for the @acotargiftexchange 🎅🏻! I’ve actually never written yaoi before, so I did my best, but here it is!

Calanmai- oneshot about Rhysand and Tamlin’s first time together. 1.4k words, NSFW. Idk if Tamlin’s attire is canon for Calanmai and I don’t really care.

Tamlin had always hated Calanmai.

Beyond pointedly avoiding just what his father and mother were getting up to, he had to deal with his brother’s proclivities as well. Last year he had ended up on the ground coughing up blood when he tried to play rescuer, but the look the fae female had given him as she ran away from the clutches of his eldest brother had seemed somewhat grateful at least. Or maybe he just wished it had. He prowled the land, trying to ignore the smoke, the slight itch from his lead crown and the magic building in his veins. The distant moans of couples made him blush, but he steadfastly pretended he couldn’t hear them. He needed to keep an eye out, make sure Gareth and Cedric didn’t pounce on an unwilling female with the magic as an excuse.

“Looking rather serious for such a fun night,” came a familiar drawl behind him. Tamlin froze, and then turned, slowly. He couldn’t believe he was here, dressed in his stupidly immaculate all black outfit. He had been so sure to tell Rhysand how dangerous Calanmai could get, how wild and unrestrained his brothers could be. Was the overgrown bat trying to get himself killed? A couple near the closest bonfire picked up their pace, the female moaning so loudly it reached Tamlin’s ears.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Tamlin’s voice was deeper than usual. He felt almost embarrassed of the blue paint and loincloth that adorned him as Rhysand’s violet eyes ran lazily up and down his body, bracing himself for one of his new friend’s characteristic cutting remarks. But Rhysand’s eyes only widened slightly as he swallowed, before he quickly recovered, saying smoothly, “I thought I might see how Spring celebrates. Cultural exchange, and all that. Nice outfit.”

“It’s traditional, you prick.” There wasn’t any venom behind Tamlin’s words. Truthfully, despite all his warnings to stay away, he was…relieved to see Rhysand. Happy, even. That weird fluttery feeling was there too, but he shoved it deep down inside him where it belonged. Rhysand was his friend. His best friend, probably. “I need to be on the lookout for Gareth and Cedric. They’re-”

“-currently engaged, with partners who consented very enthusiastically.” Rhysand tapped the side of his head. “Perks of being a Daemati. On patrol, are you? Is that why you aren’t…coupling?”

The teasing quality of his voice made Tamlin want to snarl at him. “Yes.”

“Ah. I thought you were waiting for…someone special.” He flicked invisible dust off his immaculate jacket in that infuriating way of his. Nearby, the female reached her peak, gasping and crying and shouting “Yes, yes, yes!” Tamlin told himself that was why his cock was stirring. This was insane. What was he doing? “Maybe I am.”

“Pent up, aren’t you? Poor thing.” Rhysand’s voice was filled with mock sympathy. The smoke made his face look hazy. Except for his eyes. Tamlin felt like dying then and there as he realized Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on his cock. He managed to choke out “It’s just the magic.”

“Pity.” Rhysand smirked. Pity? What did that mean? The couple started up again, but this time it was the male in the throes of ecstasy that reached his ears.

“Stop…teasing me.” Now that he wasn’t making as concentrated an effort to hold it back, he felt the magic of Calanmai taking hold of him. He could feel his heart beating in tandem with the drums. He wanted to pounce on someone, claim them. His canines elongated at the thought. Bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum went his heart. All the while Rhysand looked more and more pleased with himself. He’d show him. He stalked over, grabbing his annoyingly smug face and pulling it close to him. “You think this is funny?”

“Supremely.”

“You don’t understand…the magic…this night…” his voice seemed to drop an octave, “I don’t want to do something I regret.”

“We can’t have that, now can we? Rest assured, you explained how exactly you would be affected by this night very well. I’m not being taken by surprise here.”

Tamlin pulled him closer. “Is that what you want? To be taken?”

“Maybe.” Rhysand was so damn infuriating. So smug. So…so…Tamlin wrenched him closer and then their lips were meeting. He dominated the kiss, tilting Rhys’s head back and scraping his lip with his fangs. He kept at it until he tasted blood, and then he kept at it some more. After a long while, he pulled back. There! Now Rhysand would understand what Calanmai meant. Now that laughing look in his eyes would be gone. Now he would fly on those wings of his straight back to the Night Court. Now…now…now Rhysand’s hand was on his cock, pumping it, and he looked more pleased with himself than ever. Tamlin attacked his neck, biting and sucking and more than likely bruising, but Rhysand only laughed and continued his ministrations. “You’re insane,” he ground out between pants, “You don’t…I haven’t…we can’t…”

“Not to worry,” Rhysand purred, “I’ll tell you what you do. Exactly how I like it.” He felt his heart beating and blood rushing to his cock, and before he knew it he had wrestled Rhysand to the ground and was rutting against him like a madman. It felt so good. So right. He felt like an animal, tearing and clawing at poor Rhys, biting and ripping his clothes, pinning and manhandling him. All the while Rhysand was laughing and encouraging him, moaning and whispering into his ear, “Give it all to me…I’m an Illyrian…I can take it.”

The magic and smoke made everything seem hazy, but soon Tamlin was aware that he was, that Rhysand had turned his head around to look at him with that insufferable smirk, and that he had growled, “You’re so fucking pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” and shoved his face down into the dirt so he was no longer on all fours, discovering a glorious new angle, and started thrusting harder than he ever had in his life, but all the the while Rhysand preened and moaned in a way that made sure Tamlin knew he was getting exactly what he wanted out of this, which only made him all the more frustrated. And the more frustrated he was, the more aggressive he got, and the more aggressive he got, the more pleased Rhys seemed to be, which only frustrated him more…

He awoke the next morning by himself with a ringing headache and no idea how he had gotten back into the manor house. He looked at the empty sheets beside him. Had last night just been a dream? He strained to hear any signs of his family, but the footsteps coming up the stairs were accompanied by a familiar scent…

“Mooorning.” Rhysand held two steaming cups of tea in his hands. He looked perfectly at peace, despite also looking like he had been clawed by a wild beast. Tamlin supposed he had.

“Are you…wearing my clothes?”

“You shredded mine beyond repair, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I wanted you to.”

“I…so you’re…okay? With…what happened?”

“More than okay. Pretty satisfied with myself, actually. You take direction very well.” Tamlin felt his face burning.

“My family-” He started, but Rhys cut him off. “Spent the night out, but are currently making their way back.”

He sprung up, grabbing the cup of tea. “You’ve got to go before they see you.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, the first sign of displeasure he had seen in his friend. “Are you ashamed?”

“Not ashamed, afraid. The things my father and brothers would do to you if they knew I cared about you-”

“Only saying you care about me after we had sex? Why, Tamlin, I’m wounded. Do you only want me for my body?”

“It was unspoken before! Anyways, you’ve got to-”

“When are you going to realize that we’re more powerful than your family? That you’re more powerful. Your brothers do those things because they’re afraid of you. There’s nothing they could do if they walked in and saw us right now.”

Tamlin felt that familiar fear creeping up, strangling him. “No,” he choked out “No. You need to go.”

Seeing the look on his face, Rhysand’s face softened, and he gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Fine. Fine. Out the window I suppose, like a proper secret lover.” And then he was off, black wings cutting through the orange sunrise, the only sign that he had been there an open window and a cup of tea, half full.

[sharkyisashark]

Could you maybe do some ab Jinx Vi Caitlin Isha and Warrick in the cult and have them be happy and funny and like the characters? Also some ab Vi Jinx and Caitlin being in the real world?

Heyy! In the mood today for writing so I thought I might as well :) I'm not very educated on cults though, nor do I know how I would even write that :( But! I thought since there are two ideas here I'd do some more real world stuff for ya <3 Includes: Vi, Jinx, and Caitlyn & mention of Isha + Arcane S2 spoilers! Edit: I just realised the cult as in the one in arcane 😭 If I get the motivation I'll write some of that <3

"Vi? You almost done in there?" Jinx whines, knocking impatiently at the bathroom door. The door creaks open, and Vi's clouded blue eyes met Jinx's... her usually red hair, now covered in black hair dye, drips of it running down Vi's forehead. Jinx snorted, "You look like a wet cat." She remarked, to which Vi just scoffed, then stepped aside, letting Jinx grab her toothbrush. "You got another pit fight tonight?" Jinx inquires, popping the toothbrush into her mouth and scrubbing at her teeth. Vi sighs, not bothering the way the overly diluted hair-dye transferred onto her shirt. "Yeah, I do actually. Last one for the month." "Then you're stuck with me and your girlfriend for what..? Three months?" "..Mhm." "Sick," Jinx smirked, placing her toothbrush back into it's holder and sitting herself onto the sink. She looked down at the small bowl of black hair dye, having died Isha's hair's hair in the past, she was well aware Vi had done it wrong. "You do know you don't have to put water with this stuff right?" Jinx points to the bowl before picking it up, looking up at Vi, who was across the bathroom, doing something on her phone. "You're going to look like an ugly grey," Quickly, Vi's gaze was back on Jinx, and within moments Vi was sat on a stool, Jinx leaning over her, re-applying a new mix of dye. Tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she made sure she did a good job, before pulling back and placing the left over dye to the side, hands on her hips, proud of her work. "Better now..?" Vi asked, half-hearted irritation in her tone as she stood, inspecting Jinx's help.. which, wasn't actually half bad. A little patchy per say, maybe a little unnatural, but hey, nobody would notice from outside of the pit. Jinx just smiled knowingly, her long blue hair fallen over her shoulders as she made her way out of the bathroom. Eyes heavy and just about ready for bed. "Tell me how it went in the morning, yeah?" Jinx reminded, in which Vi just looked at Jinx through the mirror, rolling her eyes and nodding "Sure."

* * * "Vi..." Caitlyn breathed lowly, looking over Vi's form, covered in bloodied bandages... It was the usual for her partner, but it didn't make it any less hard to witness. Vi shrugged, sitting down beside Caitlyn. Shoulders slouched as she held out her arm for Caitlyn to re-bandage. Hissing at the sting of alcohol they were coated with. "I don't know why you do this to yourself," Caitlyn starts, using a small pin to secure one of the bandages in place; around Vi's shoulder. "I know, I know I just-" "No, you don't." Caitlyn frowned, looking down at Vi, whom was sitting across from her now. It was a thick atmosphere, Vi was well aware there was no need for her to do these pit fights anymore, especially not since they'd moved into a better city now... and yet- she just chased the pain...?' "I got a break now, for three months." Vi murmured, before chugging down a bottle of water. The first time she'd drunk since the afternoon. "Ah..? I thought once you entered a routine... you only got breaks on public holidays?" Caitlyn's brow crooked a little, folding her arms over her chest in slight suspicion. Her navy blue hair falling over her ears. "Usually.. yes, but- I dropped out of the schedule for a bit... thought I'd spend more time with you and Jinx..." Vi shrugged, a half smile tugged at her lips. "I sort of figured with us all.. here, now... we should go see the city together..?" Vi offered, gesturing to all the 'New York' signs outside the bar they were in. "Y'know and- maybe go looking for apartments with Jinx..? So she won't have to sleep on my couch and you can finally move in..?" "I'd.. like that." Caitlyn smiled, leaning back in her chair, taking a sip of her soda.

* * * ______________________________________________________________

The end <3 I hope I did okay, it was my first time writing for Vi and Caitlyn :) - shark 🦈

[god-has-entered-my-body]

You look so alive - M.H x Reader // pt4

A/N: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Matty finally gets some. Almost. TW: Hard drugs, please take care of yourselves! Also very NSFW, minors dni. Ilysm @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff my one and only. I was concerningly high writing most of this, sorry if there are any spelling mistakes of any sort. Enjoy yourselves my loves❤️

wc: 5.5k

part five

June, 2008

Saturday morning, the sun is shining brightly through your curtains. The clock reads 8:32am. You’re awoken by a harsh knock on your window. Matty. You smile

Today is a particularly good day. It's your Birthday, your 18th, to be exact. You get up, and you can already hear the metaphorical birds chirping outside of your window. Slowly walking to your window, you're greeted by Matty grinning at you through the glass. 

“There's my birthday girl,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. The ‘my’ makes your heart skip a beat, but you inevitably push the feeling down. ‘Not now’.

The hug lasts a few seconds too long as he buries his face in your hair, taking a deep breath. Your hands trail down the expanse of his back, lingering around his waist. He releases you, climbing into the room. 

You get dressed. A black dress, lace and frills adorning the edges. Matty is wearing his blue Barcelona shirt. He managed to get the stains out of it, you notice. His favorite pair of skinny jeans cling to his legs, even if just a bit looser.

Watching you do your makeup, he smiles at you endearingly. It had been two months since he hung up on you. You didn't talk about it, you never did. What was the point? It would just bring up more confusing feelings you weren't ready to deal with. Things were better the way they were, and they stayed like that. Until they didn't. 

You finish rather quickly, turning to look at him. He knows that look.

“You got any on you?” you ask. 

He nods, grinning as he reaches into the back pocket of his pants. He pulls out a red cigarette case, opening it slowly as you sit down next to him. In it, were two pre rolled spliffs. Next to them, was the thing you were actually asking about. A baggie filled with white powder. 

Ever since that night, you’d wanted to experience what you felt again. Over and over. Matty already knew a few good guys who had set decent prices. He started picking up for the both of you, always splitting the sum. You reached into your pocket to pull out the cash for your portion, but he pushed your hand away. 

“It's your birthday, darling, I can't let you pay for anything, it wouldn't be right.” he winks at you. Darling. You nod, laying back onto the bed, watching him. 

He searches your room for something to cut the lines with, settling on your Hollister members card. Grabbing your bio notebook, he shakes just enough of the substance onto the surface for both of you. 

You snort yours first, moving out of the way to give Matty his go. The both of you stare at each other before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter, falling into each other's arms. You lay like that for a bit, before Matty gets up. 

“C’mon, we’re taking you out for your birthday. The big one-eight!” he laughs, clearing off the surface. He rubs the remainder on your gums. The feel of his fingers in your mouth is strangely erotic, you involuntarily let out a soft moan. He looks at you funny, and you shake your head, brushing it off. He tucks the cigarette case back into his jeans.  

You go through the front door this time, knowing your mother was at the office. On your 18th birthday, your own parent had decided work was more important. Fuck her, honestly. You don't lock the front door, knowing you wouldn’t be able to find your keys later. 

The two of you take the short walk to the local corner shop, Adam, Ross, and George already standing there with… balloons? 

A giant pink balloon floated over Hann’s head, and he grins at you as you walk towards him.

“For the birthday girl– a pretty pink balloon.” you can hear the other three boys sniggering behind your back. With a roll of your eyes, you take the balloon from him, holding it awkwardly.

The bell rings as you open the door to the shop, greeting Becca, the woman behind the counter, with a smile. She waves back, already turning around to grab a pack of your favourite fags for you. The two of you were friends, having met at a party a few years back. She sold you whatever you needed, ignoring the fact you were underage for years. 

Her eyebrows raise as she notices the balloon. “It's my birthday today!” you say, louder than expected. She shook her head, immediately noticing something off. Placing the bottle of vodka on the counter, you hand her your I.D with a toothy grin, and she scans it. 

“It's on the house, darling, but..” she trails off, leaning into you. You do the same, listening intently. “Lay off a bit, your pupils are fucking huge and its 10 in the morning” her words take you by surprise. Taking a look in the mirror of the shop bathroom, you confirm her statement. 

Splashing some cold water onto your face, you shake off the feeling of dread. Today was a good day, nothing was going to ruin it. You take a pair of sunglasses out of your bag. They were pink with a black rim, complimenting your outfit. 

You make your toward the exit, fags and vodka in hand, waving goodbye to Becca. She smiles at you, but it looks off. You ignore it, pushing the door open with your shoulder. Matty greets you with a smile, taking the bottle off you. 

You look to your left to see George welding what looked like a Sainsburys shopping cart. Cocking an eyebrow, you walk toward him. George takes the balloon, tying it to the shopping cart before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Go on, get in birthday girl,” you give him a skeptical look, before you feel hands gripping your waist. Flailing in the air, you realize Ross had picked you and was now placing you into the cart. Inside was a 6 pack of beer, and various food items. 

You flip Ross off, cursing him out for basically throwing you into a metal shopping cart. The five of you spend the day like that, riding around. You cruise down highways, and at some point, Matty gets in with you. You're both pressed up against each other, legs intertwining.

A blue ferrari whizzes past you, honking aggressively. Neither of you was sober enough to care, throwing beer bottles after the car, narrowly missing it. Adam was paranoid that the driver was going to call the cops, but he was promptly ignored by the rest of you. 

For some reason or another, you end up in a McDonald's parking lot. It's dirty and fairly empty, tire tracks marking up the pavement. George had paid for your food, and you were all munching away happily at your burgers. Matty was moaning into his chicken burger like it was heaven as a food item.

“Jesus mate, I'm not sure I want to hear your sex noises while trying to enjoy my food, tone it down, will you?” Ross says, pulling a face. Matty responds by letting out a loud groan, licking the sauce off of his fingers. 

“You love my sex noises, don't lie. Remember that time I was shagging Ava in the loo at George's party and you were standing outside the whole time?” he says with a full mouth. Ross shakes his head, whispering quiet words of denial. 

Matty shoots you a look, and you nod. “I need a piss,” you say, getting up. “Matty?” 

He gets up, wiping his hands on Hann’s shirt, and he smacks him across the face. Matty just laughs, turning to leave with you.  

“Why do you always go piss together? A bit weird, innit?” George comments, cocking an eyebrow. “We’re going for his hourly blowjob, George, didnt you know?” you joke, nudging Matty in the ribs. A collective “Ewww” sounds from the group as you leave. 

The bathroom is a borderline health hazard, the sinks covered in a type of grime you can only describe as slimy. Matty swipes it off as best he could, taking the red cigarette case back out. He goes through the routine, cutting up two lines with that same Hollister card. 

“D’you have any cash on you?” he asks, giving your frame a once over. You nod, taking out a tenner from your bra. 

His eyes linger on you, and you feel naked, exposed. He knew. He knew why you had gone out that night. He knew about the dream, you were sure of it. 

He chuckles as he sees where you’d been keeping the money before rolling it and handing it to you, ever the gentleman. 

This line felt different, stronger. You assume he cut more than last time. Taking a sip from the sink, you fix your hair in the mirror, wiping under your nose. Matty does his line. He gathers the loose powder onto his middle and index fingers, his other hand cupping your face. Rubbing onto your gums, you can feel them start to go numb. He holds eye contact, as if he were waiting for something. He got what he wanted when you let out a soft groan, your eyes never leaving his.

His hand leaves your jaw, instead running through his air. He doesn't put the cigarette case away just yet, taking one of the zoots out. Handing it to you, you tuck it away in your pocket. 

Making your way outside, you notice the streetlamps were already on. Was it that late already? The guys had already finished their food, wrappers littering the inside of the cart. They were standing next to each other, like they were waiting. You walk up to George, cheekily pulling out the joint from your pocket. 

“Sweet! But before that, we have something for you,” you look confused. Adam then takes his hands from behind his back, revealing a square velvet box. You take it, glancing at Matty. He nods, signaling at you to open it. 

Inside is a silver necklace, in the shape of a star. Not any star though, it was the same shape as the tattoo you had on your hip. Before you could stop them, tears welled up in your eyes, dripping down onto the metal. 

“Fuck you– did you really?” you ask, your vision blurry. They all nod, taking a step closer, giving you a half-awkward group hug. Matty stroked your hair, taking the necklace out of its box. His fingers are like electricity against your skin as he moves your hair out of the way, undoing the clasp of the necklace. 

“Thank you so much– fuck i’m crying,” your hand wipes at your face, taking some of your mascara with it. “God, I'm so pathetic.” Your heart filled with love for your friends, and you gave them each an individual hug. Ross lets out a deep chuckle, wiping more of your tears. Fucking hell.

Mattys hug is long, once again burying his face into your hair. He squeezes you, his hands resting on your waist when he pulls away. You fight the urge to kiss him. No, not now.

Forcing yourself to get your shit together, you walk toward the giant, half-drank bottle of vodka, taking a swig. 

You hear the others talking amongst themselves, with Ross raving on about the latest Macclesfield town game and how much they sucked.

“They played like the ball had been invented 15 minutes before they were set to play,” he scoffed, finishing his beer, smashing the bottle on the floor, the shards scattering around him. No one knew why he did that, he just did. 

Matty was stood next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours, headphone wires between you. The sun was starting to set, the purple light making Matty look ethereal. You really, really wanted to kiss him. But you don't, instead opting to pick at your freshly manicured nails. 

The two of you sat there, next to each other, neither daring to move. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------

“You have to sanitize everything so you dont cause some sort of gnarly infection, yeah?” Rome explained, wiping down the needle with a disinfectant wipe. You watched intently, making a mental note. 

He had agreed to teach you how to pierce people when you vaguely mentioned having an interest in it. Rome wasn't the best, but he had done your bellybutton pretty well, so why not?

The needle looked intimidating, your hands shaking slightly as you gripped the base. He was letting you pierce his ear for practice, on the condition you promise you won't completely fuck it up.

The jewelry he had picked was a silver cross with red details that shimmered when you held it to the light. You had commented on it, and he mentioned he had some similar jewelry for your type of piercing. Humming in response, you thanked him as he gave it to you, even going so far as to switch it out. 

Rome was calm, trusting you fully. “Just slowly push it in, and thread the jewelry through the top part. After that, just pull it through. It's simple really, just don't fuck up.” he shoots you a grin, and you laugh at him sarcastically.

With laser focus, you pierce the needle through the marked skin in one go, ignoring his pained hiss. The jewelry went in without a hitch, and Rome got up to admire your work. 

“S’not bad for your first time,” he said with a wink, and you roll your eyes, thanking him for letting you do this. 

You say goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek, slamming the front door shut. 

Matty had called you earlier, asking if you wanted to come over to his. His parents were gone, and he had the house to himself. 

Your bag clinked as you slung it over your shoulder, walking the short distance to his house. The setting sun shone into your eyes, and you take out those same sunglasses you had worn on your birthday. 

Knocking on the door, it's not long before Matty answer. He's wearing a dark green zip up, black sweatpants hanging low on his waist. The skin of his chest peaks out from underneath the thick material. You swallow, hard.

He lets you in, and you make your way to the wine fridge (yes, wine fridge), pulling out an unopened bottle of Merlot. He takes two fresh glasses out of the cupboard, and you pour a healthy amount into them.       

You and Matty spent most of your time getting hammered and talking nonsense and watching nonsense TV. Nothing seemed to make sense around him. Your heart was beating against your ribcage as if it was trying to break out of your chest. You sit down, laying your head down onto his chest. 

The telly was turned up, some cartoons playing. You just couldn't focus on anything. You nudge Mattys hip, giving him a look and he knew. Getting off him, you sit down onto the floor next to the posh crystal coffee table. He came back, holding a baggie filled with more blow than you had ever seen in your life. 

“Where'd you even get that much? Christ Matty, that's like 400 quid worth of the stuff in one bag.” he smiles at you.

“My parents are rich, remember? 400 quid is a dinner date for them.”

You can't help but grin, scooting closer to the table. He cuts two lines for both of you, and you do yours straight off the table, not even caring. 

The two of you return to your previous position on the sofa, with you pressed up against his chest. You've abandoned the glasses, decided to just drink from the bottle. Who was watching? 

His heart was beating in his chest, you could hear it. Your hands wander to his waist, pulling him close. 

He loses a hand in your hair, scratching your scalp in the way he knew you liked. Your breathing is shallow, you feel lightheaded, all because of fucking Matty. You attempt to convince yourself there is nothing there, spending endless nights pondering, trying your hardest to get him out of your head. 

His hand moves down to your jaw, playing with your earrings. His skin feels hot. You feel hot. 

Matty turns your head, angling it toward him. You were looking at each other now. The look in his eye indiscernible as they darted all over your face, landing on your lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and he sucked in a deep breath before connecting his wet lips with yours. 

Gripping the back of your neck, he maneuvers you on top of him. Both of your legs were on either side of his, straddling him. He moaned into the kiss, tilting his head slightly to the left. 

You take over the kiss, biting down onto his lower lip, hard. He's breathless, gasping for air as he pulls away. You stare at each other, out of breath and sweating. 

“What are yo-,” you start,

“Shut up, just– be quiet.” 

He pulls you back in, your lips crashing against his. His hand travels down to cup your chest through your shirt, tweaking your nipple. He groans, the noise turning into a high-pitched moan as you dig your nails into his scalp. 

“You like that?” you ask, giving his hair a tug. The whimper that comes out of his mouth is all the confirmation you need. 

You stop again, and your eyes meet his. His chest moves up and down in rapid succession, and you can feel his heart beat even quicker. 

“I don't- just please– fuck, don't stop.” he pleads with you, his hand trailing down your lower back. The look on his face is delicious. He's begging. A bead of sweat runs down his face, disappearing into his hair. 

Your lips connect with his neck, biting down into his skin. The noises that escape him can only be described as pornographic, his voice reverberating through the room, the high ceilings amplifying them. 

Continuing your attack on his throat, you listen to the sounds he lets out, drinking them in. It was music to your ears, hearing him like that. Because of you. 

Matty presses a hand to your chest, making you stop.  

“Maybe we shouldn't- I mean, wouldn't it be weird?”

You nod in agreement, sitting up on top of him. It would be weird around the others. You try to seem unbothered, it's not like you felt anything for him. Of course you loved him, as a best mate, and all of this had been a horrible mistake.  

A nervous laugh leaves his lips, morphing into a genuine one. “Can you imagine? Us? Hann’d lose his mind.” you crack a smile, imagining Adam's reaction to your current position. 

You slowly get off of him, turning your attention to the abandoned bottle of wine laying on the table. Picking it up, you gulp the rest down, wiping your mouth clean. Clean of Matty. You know it's wrong to want him like this, to want to feel his skin against yours. You ignore every primal instinct telling you to get back on him, to kiss him again, instead, you make yourself comfortable on the floor.  

He turns the telly up, switching to a news channel instead. You didn't dare look at him, afraid of what you’d see. You feel a tap on your shoulder. “Y’know, just because we stopped.. doesn't mean you can't like, lay on me and stuff.” he gestures to himself before patting the space next to him. 

“Lots of people would pay good money to be able to touch me, so you better make the most of it,” a grin spreads onto his face as you get up. 

You lay back down, settling into him completely. This is fine. This is totally fucking fine. Sucking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the TV in front of you, losing yourself in the colors. 

His hand searches for yours, intertwining your fingers with one another. What was he doing? A million thoughts run through your mind. One thing was clear, you definitely needed another drink. 

Time passed, becoming more and more irrelevant as the hours ticked by. The two of you had moved to his bed, lying next to each other. Bon Jovi’s ‘Vienna’ played softly through your headphones, his voice piercing your thoughts. Despite what he might tell other people, Matty loved Bon Jovi. He would rave on about his music for hours, and you would listen to every word, a familiar warmth spreading through you. Adoration.

Matty had already fallen asleep, softly snoring into the pillow. You turned off the music, slowly taking out the headphone from his ear. He stirred for a second, muttering something in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.

You look at him, hair falling over his face in loose curls. The soft sound of his breathing filled the air, acting as a sort of white noise for you. You lay down facing him, and stroke his face lightly. He was beautiful like this, peaceful. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

Morning came slowly, the sun gradually peaking through the blinds as it came up. Matty woke up before you, getting ready quietly before shaking you awake. You borrowed some of his clothes, pulling on a black and yellow striped shirt over a pair of his jean shorts. He opted for just layering a black tank top underneath the outfit he already had on.

The walk to the bus stop was quiet, the sound of chirping birds filling your ears. It was a Monday morning, so both of you were sober and ready to learn (ugh). Once again walking arm in arm, you had gotten to the stop earlier than intended, sitting down on the metal bench. 

Neither of you spoke about the previous night. It was better that way. Matty got out a pack of cigarettes, pulling out two. One for you, one for him. He lights yours. 

You spot the bus, throwing your half smoked cigarette to the ground, and he does the same. He leads you to the front of the bus, giving you the window seat. Matty loved the window seat. 

His head is once again in your lap, acting like the past 12 hours simply hadn't happened. You were content with that, softly stroking his hair, curling and uncurling it with your grown out nails. “Let's skip last lesson,” he suggests “George is at his nans anyway. What's the point?” you nod in agreement, leaning your head against the glass. 

Neither of you had bothered bringing anything today, both your bags only filled with lighters, makeup, and maybe the occasional notepad. The halls are unusually empty for this time of day, but you just brush it off. You and Matty trudge to the classroom, flinging open the door to be met with a very angry looking Mrs. Sexton  

She has a go at you, yelling about how it's ‘incredibly disrespectful’ to come 15 minutes late to her class again. You offer her a shrug, sitting down at your usual table. Matty is quiet today, hungover and way too sober to say anything to the insults being strewn at him from a few tables back. The group of boys won't let up, chatting shit the entire lesson. You ignore them.

Class ends, and you’re walking down the halfway arm in arm, talking about how much Mrs. Sexton fucked you off. 

“Look at him, fucking fairy, isnt he? Even his little girlfriend wont snog him. Disgusting,” They spit at you, laughing in their little group. The comment made about you makes Matty turn around.

“D’you know why i'm not snogging her, mh?” he stares daggers into the guy whoever dared to utter a word at you, running his hand through his hair. “I’ve been too busy fending off your girl, talking ‘bout ‘oh please make me cum Matty, my boyfriend never touches me right-” A punch to the gut punctuates his sentence, making him fall to the ground. 

Matty doesn't stay down too long, getting up and throwing himself at the bloke who hit him, tackling him. He starts hitting him properly, throwing punches at his head. In turns, the guy smacks him across the face, making Matty roll off of him. 

Eventually, the guys' mates pull them apart, spitting more insults at Matty and you. Matty spits on the ground infront if him, giving him a wink. The two of you then book it down the hallway to the nearest loo, locking yourselves in. 

The moment you both look at each other, laughter fills the space. “You're mental, you know that?” you say through giggles, wiping the tears from your eyes. “He could've actually hurt you!- Fuck, your eye.” you see a gash underneath his left eye, it was bleeding. 

Grabbing as much toilet roll as you could, you hold it to the cut, trying to stop the bleeding. “Oh, bugger off, it's nothing.” he says, wincing as you press down harder. “Don't even try to do your ‘oh i'm so masculine’ schtick with me, I swear to god.” your hand holds his head, making it easier for you to press the paper against his cheek. 

Thats when you realise how fucking close your face is to his. He’s sitting on the closed toilet lid, and you're on your knees, of all places. Last night was really, truly, messing with your mind. His leg twitches slightly, eyes peering down at you. You can see him take a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as you look up at him. Silence fills the room, the only sound being your knees shuffling against the tile. His legs spread slightly, allowing you to scoot toward him. This is so fucked up.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice comes out meek and non-committal, eyes avoiding yours. 

“Only if you look at me, Matty.” you answer, straightening your knees, making yourself taller.

He forces himself to meet your gaze, pulling his lip in between his teeth. You nod, bringing your face to his, but not letting your lips touch. That was his choice. 

His eyes bore into yours, as if he was trying to peer into your soul. He probably was. 

“You're so beautiful,” he says, sounding confident, sure. He closes the gap between you, his hand grabbing at the base of your neck. You moan into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck. The blush that was previously confined to just your face spreads all over your body, making you feel as if you were on fire. Matty lit your skin on fire. 

Then, he did something you didn't expect. He got up, taking you with him. With a force you didn't think he had, he pushed you up against the wall. Your mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. His whimpers fill the bathroom stall as you rake your nails down his back, digging them into it.

You gasp when he brings a knee up between your thighs, pushing up further. Breathless, you pull away, gasping for air. His hand traces up and down your jawline, nails scratching the skin. He places a peck onto your cheek, then your chin, making his way down your neck. You have no choice but to moan whenever his lips make contact with your skin, silently begging for more. 

The bathroom door slams open, a group of girls piling in. Matty slaps a hand over your mouth, stifling your noises before anyone could hear. They start talking, and all you could do was focus on trying to not make a sound as Mattys knee moved up even higher. You look at him, panic in your eyes. You desperately didn't want to get caught.

He listens to your silent pleas, lowering his knee from its position. His mouth catches your lips in another kiss. The two of you stay like that until the girls decide to clear out, closing the door behind them. He tastes like cigarette smoke, then again, so do you. He interlocks his fingers with yours, pressing them up against the door. His tongue dances with yours, and you feel sparks of electricity travel up your spine.

He moans your name, your hand gripping at the roots of his hair, pulling tightly. He seemed to respond most when you did that. He responded to pain. Your nails digging into his back, your teeth biting his lip. Everything suddenly made sense, especially the time you had cut his hair. Those sounds he had disguised as coughs weren't cries of pain, but of pleasure. 

You file away that information for another time, if there would even be another time. “Let's get you home,” you say, pressing a hand to his chest. His expression caused you physical pain, looking down at you like a kicked puppy. 

You didn't want to want him like this, but your body and mind had apparently made a different decision. You lead him out of the stall, out of the bathroom and down the hall, making your way to the parking lot. The air was thick, but somehow still comfortable. You could feel his eyes on you for most of the walk to his house. For the first time since you had met, you were the one walking him home. 

Hugging him at the door to his house, he leaned in to kiss you. You let him, his hands gripping your waist like it truly was his anchor to reality. This goodbye felt different, it felt hard. 

 

// Matty //

Picture a scene: A darkened room, the only light coming from cracks in the curtains. The sheets are cold against his skin, giving him a sense of comfort. 

His hands trace down his chest, grazing the skin lightly. He repeats the movement, sighing as his fingers linger over his nipples. The room is warm, or maybe that's just him. Regardless, he takes off his shirt, throwing it into a corner somewhere in his room.

He thinks about the kiss. The way your bodies moved against each other as if it were second nature. It felt right. Your lips against his, moans leaving his mouth involuntarily. He broke the kiss first, not wanting to go too far. He so desperately wanted to.

He couldn't hold back in the bathroom, with you looking up at him like that, eyes full of worry for his well being. He had fought for you, trying to defend your honor like some sort of disney prince. It did work, but he didn't like to fight. It wasn't who he was as a person. It wasn't who Matty was around you. 

He palmed himself through his boxers, a groan tearing itself from his throat. He imagined it was your hand instead of his, the mental image of you with him, in this position, made all the blood in his head rush to his cock. The pressure was almost too much. Almost.

He imagined you above him again, your eyes never leaving him, always looking at him. His body yearned for your attention, for your touch. The shuffling of his boxers down his thighs is incredibly loud in the near silent room, the bed creaking beneath him. 

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, the tip leaking precum. Tugging at himself, he closes his eyes, picturing you. The way your neck cranes to look at him when he's laying on top of you. The way your lips wrap around the opening of a wine bottle, the liquid sloshing down your throat. The way you kissed him, taking complete control of the action. Taking complete control of him. 

He can feel himself getting close, teetering on the edge. His noises get louder, echoing through the room. Attempting to muffle himself, he shoves his head into his pillow, biting down. It's useless, he starts helplessly rutting into the mattress, begging for release. He imagines your voice, telling him to ask you for permission. 

“P-please– fuckkk,” he stutters out.

No one can hear him, he knows that well enough. He just can't stop himself. He comes, hard, spilling into his hand. 

He lays there, sweating, panting. The only thought in his clouded mind: You.   

[jessicafangirl]

Building A Mystery

Here it is kids, my Vampire Volkarin fic, chapter 1. Life and the universe kept me from getting this one up sooner than I would like but I hope you enjoy this first glimpse into Mystery and Emmrich's tale. You can also read here on AO3

Let me know what you think kids.

Mystery Ingellvar AKA Rook and Emmrich Volkarin found each other at the end of the world. Together they stopped this from happening along with their team. After defeating the Elven Gods, the heroes of the Veilguard now keep watch from the Lighthouse and fight to keep evil from returning to the realm. During one of these battles Rook is nearly killed and Emmrich realizes that even though he gave up Lichdom to save Manfred he now has left himself nearly powerless to keep the woman he loves safe. Emmrich leaves the Lighthouse and Mystery to find a solution which will change their lives forever.

Okay let's get one thing straight. I LOVE Emmrich. He's everything. Peter Cushing, Vincent Price, Cardinal Copia, and any and all silver foxes I've loved all rolled into one. He deserves all the love.

Anyway, now that I've got that out of the way, my other love is vampires. And to me it makes sense that Emmrich would decide if Lichdom was off the table he'd figure out a way to make this a goal and make it work. Love makes us do funny things.

We may or may not have an appearance of a pale elf some of you may know here or at least be mentioned.

Mystery is the name I figured out for my Rook after I made her. It fits for an orphan left on a pile of skeletons in the realm of the dead don't you think? Myst is in her 40s (so Emmrich is still a little older) but she's just as much of a wallflower who didn't really interact that much with people until she ran into Varric a few years ago. He saw her talents and her knowledge and decided, yeah that'll do. That meeting opened up a world to her she'd only read about in history books and novellas.

Instead of being around people and adventuring around, she had spent her time amongst the dead reading, training. She'd never ran into Emmrich but when she does finally meet him it's like one of those elegant heroes from the books she read all her life had stepped out of the pages for her.

So that's a little background for you. Give me all your angst baby. I'm here for the tasty angst.

______________________________________________________________

Emmrich was gone.

That was what Rook woke up to when she’d come round. Emmrich was gone and no one knew where to. She’d nearly died…again. At least in the Fade she couldn’t die, no matter how hellish it was while trapped there. She’d actually just disappeared and not been almost skewered by a well-placed blade by an undead warrior with really good luck. At least until Taash had roasted his undead flesh off his bones. The blade had just missed her heart.

Rook’s blue eyes were hazy as she came to, everything hurting. Her first word was his name. But Emmrich didn’t answer her. Instead Lucanis came to stand beside her, taking her hand in his gloved one. “Shhh, it’s okay. You need to rest.” His softly accented voice wrapped around her.

Rook didn’t want to rest; she wanted to know where her Necromancer was. But she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter as the dark was pulling her back down again. She thought she heard Manfred’s familiar hiss as she slipped away, Lucanis telling the skeleton “I know, but we can’t bother her with that now.”

The next time she came round it was to daylight streaming through a window somewhere nearby. She had no idea how long she’d been out, but her dreams had seemed very real. More like memories…but she was seemingly watching it all take place from somewhere other than her body. The fight…that was first….the smell of blood and corrupted dead flesh. There was a scent to the undead who were brought back with dark magic…it wasn’t clean…it was foul. Not even the usual smell of a typical corpse, something Rook was used to thanks to her time in the Mourn Watch and the Necropolis.

No, the corrupted dead were beyond normal rot. It was as if the evil that had beget them permeated everything, even maggots wouldn’t feed from them. If some did, they’d die from the tainted feast, falling off them limp and lifeless.

The battle hadn’t been a long one. The mage who had decided to try their luck at the powerful forces needed didn’t realize just how much they had taken on in their bid to take over the city. It had wound up destroying them…too much infernal magic. The mage had died spectacularly in a ball of their own fire leaving a number of undead to deal with before the city was overwhelmed.

Rook saw in her mind’s eye how elegant Emmrich had been, his hands graceful as the green energy that he had flowing through him shot out and brought a final, merciful end to many of the creatures. He’d call out a “Well done my love.” When she’d take down their foes and she’d shout back when he’d do the same “Dashing and dangerous my dear.” Rook swore she could see the blush on his pale cheeks when she’d done that.

She’d been surprised. That’s what had happened. She’d taken care of the two undead she’d been fighting but a third had been in hiding. The pain had been quick, breathtakingly intense and then more concerningly gone and replaced by a chilling cold that spread through her quickly. Rook felt the blade pulled out from her chest and from far away heard Emmrich’s tortured cry of “Noooooo!”

She’d fallen to her knees and was oddly calm when she looked up at the moving cadavers face, red flames in place of eyes. This was it…I’m so sorry Emmrich….it’s my fault. I’m so sorry. It repeated over and over in her head. But before the creature could deliver a final blow it was ripped away from her in a blast of green. The undead was thrown with such force at a brick wall on the other side of the plaza that it exploded in a shower of gore, blood, and bone.

Rook had seen it and watched in numbed awe and disgust combined. It was impressive but not pleasant to look at. Her eyelids were so heavy then and it hurt to breathe. The blood was staining her shirt under the thin armor and the cold was now stretching from her chest out through her arms and legs. The blood was warm though…it was taking her warmth with it as it steadily left her. “oh….”

The wave of dizziness made her world spin and then Emmrich was there, kneeling beside her, catching her and pulling her into his arms. The scents of lilac and sweet incense met her nose, washing away the scents of decay. “My darling.” She heard his gentle voice, the words that sounded so brittle against her ear trembling. “My love you must hold on…stay with me Rook…you must stay with me.”

“Emmrich…” She heard herself as if far away, “I’m sorry…didn’t see them.” Rook had pressed her cheek against his warm chest, the heat of him radiating through the soft silk of his shirt. He always smelled so good….she’d miss that.

He’d held her so tightly for a moment, she’d heard a choked sob trying to be kept at bay in his long throat. “Shh…I need…I need you to stay awake my Mystery.” He pulled away just enough to start working the clasps of her armor. He had to see the damage; he had to fix this now. The rest of the battle was nearly done, he could hear the clashing of weapons, the sounds of other magic being launched at their foes. Emmrich could hear the distant panting of Lucanis who had followed him as he ran to where they were to keep watch while he tended to her.

She remembered the pull of the armor against her wound, the hiss of pain as the Necromancer pulled it away. His green and gold flecked eyes had widened at the sight. “My love….” He’d whispered the words, as though he didn’t realize they were said out loud. Her shirt was stained red from her blood, the injury deep. He’d immediately started crafting healing magic to stop the damage, the bleeding.

She’d been hurt bad, and Rook knew it, could feel it, could see it in Emmrich’s tortured expression. The familiar tingling, the slight burn of the magic leaking into her skin made her hiss. The fact it hurt this bad was another sign of the severity of the wound. Rook had blacked out then, her eyes too heavy to keep open any longer. The next time she came to some half-wakened state it was to darkness. Things were blurry, her vison unclear. There was a numbness to her body, like a limb when you’ve slept too long on it. The feeling spread out from her chest to her toes and fingers. And seemingly her brain as she couldn’t make out details in the gloom. But then there was a flare of green fire, familiar in the near black of the room.

“Emmrich….” Her voice was unfamiliar to her ears, weak, barely a whisper. Just that word took all her strength…but it was a word worth the sacrifice, worth any sacrifice. And then he was there beside her, the green fire surrounding his fingers like ghostly flames of jade.

When her heavy eyes met his she saw in their depths fear, sorrow, exhaustion but a determination no other could have matched. “I am here my love.” He said, the lilt of his voice reaching her ears like a caress. “You must save your strength. Do not talk dearest.” His hands hovered over her heart, above the wound in her chest. He spoke an incantation of healing, the dialect actually unfamiliar to her…or maybe she was simply too still in shock to recognize it.

The thrum of magic rippled over her skin and through her and with it a feeling that she could only say was Emmrich. In that magic that came from within him she felt his love, his strength and will to mend her wounds, to make her whole again. The scent of lilac and bergamot filled her nostrils. She could almost hear his voice now in her head “I will not lose you my love. I will not let you go. We’ve been through too much for you to leave me now. I’ve only just found you. I cannot lose you. I will not lose you.”

The heat from the magic entering her spread throughout her entire body. It felt like comfort and Mystery could feel it pulling her back down into sleep. The glow of green faded then and she heard Emmrich let out an exhausted sob as he fell to his knees next to the mattress.

No…no Emmrich shouldn’t be crying. Never. She couldn’t bear the thought. Rook reached out her fingers and let them thread into his silver laced hair. “I love you…don’t…cry.” She managed to say even though the words sounded far away to her ears.

At this he raised his head in surprise, his fingers clasping hers tightly, the gold of his rings still warm from the residual magic. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his mustache tickling her skin. “I…I love you my Mystery.” Rook heard him take a ragged breath as he pressed her fingers against his cheek. Even in her stupor of a state she could feel the stubble of a beard starting to form. Emmrich’s control had returned, Rook could sense it in the way he straightened his back as he placed another kiss to her fingers. “You must rest. Let my magic do its work dearest heart. Do not fight the pull of sleep, let it in and dream of our home.”

Rook didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to stay with him, but she saw a soft glow of green light where their hands were clasped together, and a warm wave of sleepiness started taking over her. “Want…to stay…with you.” Rook said drowsily, her eyelids so heavy.

“You will darling…you will.” She heard Emmrich say from far away. Rook felt something slip onto her ring finger then, still warm from the green fire. “This I vow my love.” Sleep took her then.

She vaguely remembered opening her eyes the next time to a familiar chamber, now no longer shrouded in darkness. There were walls of books surrounding her, beautiful and filling the air with the scents of old paper and leather…the perfume of knowledge she’d named it and Emmrich had smiled so lovely at the phrase one night while they had been researching a ceremony to remove a haunting.

He’d kissed her without a word suddenly after she’d said it. Rook had been happily surprised by the action. “What was that for?” She’d asked him, grinning like a school girl with the biggest crush.

“Because you have a beautiful turn of phrase my dearest…and I could not resist the temptation of the lips that could conjure such lovely prose.” The Necromancer had replied, his ring covered fingers lightly caressing her cheek as he smiled down at her.

She’d shook her head at the thought such a man who could craft such elegant flattery would think she was the one with the knack for phrasing. Emmrich’s voice and his own way with words was one of her weaknesses. With the way the firelight had caught his eyes and glinted in the lovely silver streaking his hair, blazing within the gold of his rings and bracelets she decided she wanted to plunder the treasure that was her necromancer.

He’d noticed the way her eyes had darkened, the blue depths sapphire, her lips turning up in a smile that meant dastardly thoughts had entered her head. “My love…what are you plotting?” He’d asked, cheeks flushing and the question only slightly breathy.

She’d pushed him to the settee, and he’d fallen back against the cushions, still graceful though surprised. Rook remembered draping herself over him and the poor man was trapped. “We…we…really should be exploring…” She’d gotten at least two buttons undone on his shirt at that point and her mouth had found his throat, as did her teeth. The sound he’d made was probably supposed to be a word, but she’d been hard pressed to figure out which one. And she’d had other things on her mind like the rest of the buttons.

A quick intake of air “Exploring….ways…to…” he tried again. Emmrich was a determined sort that was true. But so was Rook. Half the buttons now and she started peppering his chest with kisses, her cheek rubbing against the graying hair that covered the center above his heart. “stop….” He managed to gasp out.

She remembered lifting her gaze to his, seeing his green eyes nearly closed, the color so dark she could barely see where the pupils ended and the green began. Her fingers ran along his side, sliding to his hip. “Did you say you want me to stop?” She’d asked, one brow raised.

He’d had one very short look of panic cross his face. “Don’t…don’t stop.” He’d practically begged. “Never…stop.” He’d then pulled her up to where she was literally sprawled on top of him and held her face in his bejeweled fingers. “Never…” He’d said and then kissed her fully, taking her breath away along with his own.

The memory was sweet. One of a treasure trove that had managed to outweigh the bad she’d collected so many of in her life. The scales were getting more even all thanks to a man who could make the dead speak and her life sing.

But he wasn’t here right now. The room was missing what made it truly special, made it home. She sat up, wincing just slightly at the pull on her injuries and sore muscles. She was healed for the most part. She moved aside the long silken shift that covered her to look down at where the blade had pierced her.

It had been worse than she imagined it or remembered clearly. There was an angry scar marring her pale skin, just to the side of her heart. This was evidence of how close she’d came to dying…the fact Emmrich’s healing magic, something he was powerful in, had not been able to leave her unmarked. How long had she been unconscious? Where was Emmrich?

Brain still hazy from the ordeal and just coming round, Rook pulled her shift back into place and slowly swung her legs off the bed. The sheets, the pillow cases smelled like him. The cologne he wore that held the scents of lilacs and bergamot. There was a hint of incense too. All of this was Emmrich, and it calmed her slowly growing anxiety a bit.

Rook glanced down, feeling something unfamiliar on her left hand. There now was a golden ring, sigils of protection carved into the band with a stunning pale green emerald. In the light the green matched Emmrich’s magic almost perfectly, as though he’d given her a piece of himself that could always be with her. She ran a finger over the stone, tears pricking her eyes.

She went to stand and nearly stumbled, her muscles not used to the motion. Rook grasped hold of the wooden column of the bed nearest her letting out a gasp as there was still pain in her chest. The movement of her arm pulled the still tender muscles and freshly healed flesh.

A familiar hiss from across the room met her ears and Manfred’s skeletal visage appeared quickly following it. The sweet spirit gently took hold of her arm to keep her steady.

“Thank you…Manfred.” Rook managed to say, her throat dry and raspy.

Manfred settled her back on the bed to sit with her feet on the floor. After a few more hisses and gestures, Rook took the hint she was supposed to stay there while Emmrich’s favorite student headed off. He returned a minute or two later followed by Davrin looking relieved and worried in equal measure. It was a strange combination.

“Rook…how are you feeling?” The Warden’s kind eyes studied her.

“Sore…and thirsty.” She looked up at him.

Davrin saw how pale she was. There didn’t seem to be a fever though, just exhaustion showing in her blue gaze. He moved to a table nearby and poured some water into a cup, bringing it over to her. “Drink this slowly. You’ve been out for a while.”

After a few sips she kept hold of the cup, grasping it in her hands tightly to try and keep her fingers from trembling. Her voice she wasn’t so successful with. “How long is a while?”

Davrin glanced away. “On and off for about eight days.” He answered her.

Rook gasped at that. Eight days. She’d been more damaged than she thought. Emmrich had to have been exhausted.

“Where’s Emmrich? Sleeping I hope?” she asked, taking another drink.

Davrin didn’t answer her, and Rook noticed. “Davrin…where’s Emmrich?” Her voice was hushed to her own ears.

The warden turned, his eyes not able to meet hers still. “He left two days ago…when he knew you were going to be okay.”

As if knowing he’d waited to make sure she was alright would make his absence better. Where did he leave to though? “What happened, why did he leave?” Rook’s voice hitched up, a strange feeling running up her spine. Emmrich wouldn’t just leave. He wouldn’t just leave her…at least she didn’t think he would.

Davrin leaned against the bottom left post of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “None of us knew he was going until Manfred walked into the main all carrying two letters on a tray like a butler. One was addressed to the team and the other’s for you.”

He pulled an envelope from his tunic’s pocket, one that was familiar to Rook from Emmrich’s desk. They were from his best stationery, the pieces he used for his most important correspondence. Davrin slipped it into her shaking hand.

He quickly glanced away, pursing his lips. “Honestly, I hadn’t seen him in a state like that before. I should have known something was up.”

Rook’s blue eyes stared at the envelope in her hand like it was the most poisonous spider she’d ever seen. She placed the cup of water on the bedside table as though the weight of the envelope needed both hands to keep it in her grasp. “What sort of state Davrin?” she asked him in a hushed whisper.

Davrin was reconsidering being the one to bring her the letter and the news. “The closest I can compare is when you were lost to the fade. He looked haggard. Haunted as though he hadn’t slept since you were brought back here. I know the amount of healing he had to do worked on him but…it was more than that.”

Rook closed her eyes and fought back a sob, her breath hitching. “What did your letter say?”

The warden sighed. “He told us he had to go away for a while and to ensure you were taken care of until his return, Manfred as well. He had a personal quest to follow. He didn’t leave any more details.”

Rook was in shock. He’d left Manfred behind? She felt her face grow visibly paler, her heart beat speeding up in anxiety, a creeping feeling of dread growing up along her spine. Her muscles winced as she felt a tremor pull at her still healing wound.

Davrin didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had a feeling whatever was in the letter would be better read privately. The warden moved away from the post of the bed. “I’ll go check in with Lucanis on getting you something to eat. Manfred won’t leave your side no matter what we tried so we’ve been taking shifts with him.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes distant. “Thank you Davrin…thank everyone.”

He gave her a nod, placing a large hand on her shoulder with far more gentle care than anyone would expect and then left.

Mystery’s fingers shook as she stared down at the envelope. Delaying this wouldn’t do any good but she couldn’t stop the scenarios in her head. His loss of lichdom had finally come home to him and he couldn’t stand seeing her, the one that had talked him into saving his skeleton of a son instead. He couldn’t deal with how needy she was. He’d realized he could do so much better than she.

The old doubts could come so fast, return so quickly that it made it hard to breathe for a few seconds as they strangled her. Her own parents hadn’t wanted her…why would the most handsome, most magical man she’d ever met still want her around?

As if knowing her thoughts the ring on her finger grew warm. In a trick of the light she thought she saw the stone glowing. He’d not part with something like this if he were tossing her aside, leaving her behind, would he? Mystery ran shaking fingers through her short blonde hair, twirling the single braid nervously around her finger. Emmrich would do the same thing sometimes before they would head into a dangerous situation, his thumb stroking it with a sweet smile “For luck.” He’d say, then press his lips to her hair.

She felt a single tear hit her cheek and she wiped it away taking a shaky breath. “Get it over with Myst, just do it.” She told herself.

The envelope opened easily as she carefully pulled the green wax seal that held the shape of a skull away. The pages were thick, and she held them to her nose for a moment, catching the scent of the lotion he used, the fragrance of lilac and some herbal mixture that would always linger when he touched her. Mystery unfolded the pages and there in Emmrich’s beautiful, precise handwriting was his message to her. She took a deep breath and began reading.

My beloved Mystery,

I’ll be gone by the time you read these words. I would not have left your side if I didn’t know for certain my healing spells worked and you would be well. Nor would I have left you without knowing you’d be in the safest, most trustworthy hands of our friends, our family as they’ve grown to be.

What I’m doing and where I’m going is too dangerous to risk you or Manfred. And while the danger is great the reward shall be a way of ensuring your safety and my ability to keep you safe. To ensure we are together always my darling.

I will never regret choosing Manfred’s return to us over lichdom. Our little family fills my heart with joy and wonder every day. But this latest near loss of you, so close to losing you my beloved, has shown me that I must find a way to keep you safe and to protect you. A way to ensure I am there to fulfill the promise of my vow. My dearest heart, I believe I have found a way to do this and perhaps give me what lichdom could as well in some ways. While you recovered I planned, I worked, and drank more than my share of Lucanis’s strongest coffee. I don’t know if I’ll be able to recover from so much of that brew.

My Mystery, it is the hardest thing I’ve had to do, leaving your side like a thief in the night. But know that I will return to you as soon as I’m able. When I do, I may be changed, and I hope I am. But in your eyes and in my heart know that I’m the same man who loves you more than life itself and whose life truly began when you found him.

Forgive me for leaving you like this, but I know if I had told you I was going I would not have been able to resist if you had asked me to stay. I can deny you nothing my darling, but this separation will be worth it in the end. And I will then be by your side forever more.

Yours always and with love, E.

Mystery reread it three times before it finally hit her that he’d left because of her, just not in the way she had worried about. Now it was a whole other level of fear and sadness that took over her thoughts and guilt. Oh Maker, the guilt that fell over her. Her stupid and careless mistake that had nearly cost her her life had taken away one of her reasons for living.

“Oh Emmrich…” She felt the tears come then in earnest. There was no stopping these. The vagueness of the letter wasn’t helping. What had he gone to do that was so dangerous he wouldn’t allow her and Manfred to go with him? He’d been right, she would have made him stay somehow.

She heard a soft hiss come from behind her and Manfred appeared holding one of Emmrich’s embroidered handkerchiefs. “Rook…ssssad.” He said and she could do nothing but shake her head and take the piece of cloth.

Of course it too smelled like him as she wiped at her eyes. “Yes Manfred, I’m sad.” She managed to say. She needed to pull herself together even if her heart was shattering into a million pieces of worry, guilt, and pain. Manfred needed someone to keep an eye on him, to keep him on his path of studies. She had her other obligations for keeping the realm safe as one of the heroes of the Veil Guard.

Mystery still didn’t know quite how all this happened, how her life had gotten to where it now was. It was so much. All of it. But Emmrich was always there, or at least he had been, to keep her grounded. Emmrich with the sweetest words, the most skilled fingers, and kisses that could melt a slab of iron with the heat they could contain. Her Necromancer was all prim and proper etiquette for the world to see, but when it was just the two of them, particularly during the moon lit hours, another side would emerge.

Emmrich Volkarin had a hunger within him that was directed at her. It wanted to consume her. Those words filled with charm and politeness would disappear as those magical fingers would pull at the buttons keeping her shirt on and her flesh from his touch. That smooth, honey voice would grow lower and would start muttering phrases that would make her cheeks burn even now just remembering it. “My Mystery,” he’d say, “I shall take my time solving you. But tonight I will uncover all I can, taste every part that is you until I have my fill.”

His mouth would find her neck first, his mustache tickling her skin while his tongue ran along her pulse, tasting her as he’d promised. His teeth would suckle then, leaving her gasping as he marked her, the first of many such brands he’d leave all over her.

In the morning she’d ask him to place a glamor on the ones visible just so they weren’t flaunting themselves too much and he’d sigh and grumpily do so. “Not all of them my dear, I feel I’ve earned the right to remain for you to remember.” He’d say after a wave of green magic settled over her skin erasing the little purple marks.

Mystery would shake her head and smile, kissing his chin and giving it a quick nip. “As if I could forget.”

She couldn’t keep thinking about those nights, these memories. She’d just crumple onto the floor and Manfred was right there hovering and making tiny little erratic, nervous noises. Rook gripped the handkerchief tightly and sat up straighter, turning to the gem eyed skeleton. “Manfred, Emmrich has gone on a trip, but that doesn’t mean you are getting out of your lessons.”

Manfred nodded. “Left…with Rook.” He said.

She gave a watery smile. “Yes, he left you with me. So tomorrow we will start on your lessons, okay?”

“OK” The skeleton replied, seemingly feeling better about things.

Rook found it so strange how you could tell when Manfred was smiling when he was literally a skull. But she could at this point. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good…I think I need to take a nap for a while, why don’t you go back to reading the tome for tomorrow’s lesson?”

Manfred nodded and headed back to his chair and the book that was still there. Rook watched as he picked it up and started his studying again. Mystery placed the letter on the bedside table and then curled up in the bed only wincing a little at the pain in her chest. That pain was nothing compared to what she now felt but hopefully it would all heal in time.

She only hoped that Emmrich would let her know he was okay or better yet be back sooner than later. Any other outcomes she wouldn’t let take root in her mind or heart.

[wol-fica]

-𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘-

pairings - lorraineday x g!p!reader

summary - You and Lorraine have been dating for a little while, and she wants to explore all of you…

warnings - smut!!!, oral (lorraine giving), handjobs, slight praising, virgin!reader

an - wanted to make Lorraine seem like an experienced person when it came to blowjobs

———————

“So like, have you ever had a blowjob?”

It was a peaceful, calm sunday night when Lorraine had asked you that. You were enjoying drinks together on the balcony overlooking you yard, the golden glow of a few candles as your only source of light. Her question made you gag, spitting your drink out onto the railing as you coughed with surprise.

“L-Lorraine!” You sputtered, looking to her with wide eyes.

“What?” She responded in confusion, like the previous question was the most normal thing in the world.

Lorraine had been dating you for about 7 months now, and it has been very enjoyable for you. She is a funny, sweet, and all around wonderful person who has secured a very tight spot in your heart. Honesty was a huge thing for her in a relationship, so early on you had sat her down and told her about your physical differences; thankfully, she was as supportive as ever and was perfectly fine with it.

Until she popped a question like this, so abrupt and out of the blue it caused you to spew out your Moscow Mule onto the law below.

“Have you?” She asked again, staring at you with anticipation.

“I mean no, you are my first relationship.” You said, fiddling nervously with your thumbs.

“I know that, but you could have had like, a hookup or something.”

You shook your head no, pursing your lips as you thought up a good reason for her sudden prodding of your sexual acts.

“The most I’ve ever done was masturbate.” You mumbled, blushing with embarrassment.

“Mediocre.” Lorraine sneered, sipping her vodka as she ogled at you.

Your pride flared up as your face went red. Mediocre? You were most definitely not basic, far from it actually. How could she say such a thing about you? Her girlfriend!

“I’d like to see you do any better…” You hissed, turning away with a huff.

“Okay.”

Your head snapped right back to her, watching as she set her drink down, walked over to you, and got on her knees. Her hands went up your thighs and to your zipper, carefully pulling it down as she gave you an innocent stare with her big, brown, gorgeous eyes.

Weirdly enough, you did nothing to stop her, gawking as she pulled your pants and then boxers down off of your hips. Your semi-hard cock throbbed uncomfortably as her hands rested beside it.

“Ready?” Lorraine asked, giving you a comfortable smile.

You slowly nodded, tracking her surprisingly expert movements. Her left hand slid down the dip of your hip, immediately wrapping around your almost-fully-standing penis. You shivered, the cool touch of her hand soothing the extensive heat your extra appendage was producing.

Gently and guiding, as if to teach you, Lorraine stroked your length. Her hand wasn’t to tight was definitely wasn’t loose, just the right amount of pressure as she started you off with your first handjob. Her eyes were focused on your face, watching your reactions to see what you liked best and least; as of right now, she was doing a pretty great job of getting you off.

“B-babe…I…” A subtle moan escaped your mouth, cutting off your protests.

Lorraine hummed in curiosity, and casually sped up her strokes as you whined and whimpered. Her other hand now came forward, reaching between your legs to cup your balls. She fondled them, squeezing and pulling gently as to figure out what made you feel good.

Soon you figured out she was trying to teach you and learn for herself what your most sensitive spots were. She would try different ways to please you, whether with squeezing or caressing, she was figuring out your sweet spots. A hiss of pain escaped your mouth when she squeezed one of your balls with her thumb and pointer finger, which she instantly stopped doing and never tried it again; that made you feel something giddy inside.

“You are really big.” Lorraine noted, staring at your cock lovingly.

“P-proud six inches..” You gritted, your hands clenching and unclenching as she pressed her finger into your gooch.

She ‘oooh’ed, now speedily stroking you to get you to your orgasm. Both hands were at work, twisting and squeezing as you finally came. Your cum spewed out, ropes covering Lorraine’s hand and face. She giggled, reaching up to wipe it off with her thumb; she stuck it in her mouth, smiling at your taste.

“That good?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Divine.” She said as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

You stared at her in shock, not expecting her to actually continue on. From how she was pushing your legs apart and settling herself in between them, you knew she was getting ready to give you head.

Her brown eyes gazed into yours, wide and innocent as she opened her mouth to press her tongue to the base of your cock. She licked her little heart out, dragging her tongue all the way around the diameter. She pressed a few kisses here and there, and left a few love bites on your balls before she slowly dragged her tongue all the way up your length.

The sight was, attractive to say the least. The way she watched you so seductively yet so innocently made you feel some foreign monster roaring inside of you. Eventually she made it to your tip, her tongue swirling and caressing the sensitive top.

Your eyes instantly rolled, nerves aflame as your head fell back in pure bliss. The press of her muscle had your cock throbbing for more, begging to be owned.

“Baby…more…please.” You murmured, desperate to feel just something else.

She complied, her lips wrapping around your tip and suckling carefully as you moaned in satisfaction. She had found your sweet spot, and boy was she going to abuse it. Slowly, she took your full length into her mouth, her spit coating it inch by inch. The supple licks and hums did wonders for your sensitivity, but what really got you going was when she began to suck you off.

She started at your base, the head of your cock snugly tucked into her throat as she started off slowly. There were light sucks at first, soft and caring as she tested you; she was searching again. She ever so slowly dragged up your cock, residing with only your tip remaining in her mouth.

Suddenly, she sucked hard and deep, trying to get your sensitivity ablaze. It worked, and your quiet moans turned into pitiful wails and sobs of pleasure as Lorraine fucking Day gave you your first ever blowjob. She hummed and sucked, her hands getting to work on twisting and squeezing your length. Her teeth grazed your slit, little nibbles causing you to groan out in satisfaction.

“Lorraine, I-I’m close!” You sobbed, your hips attempted to buck up.

She pulled back for a moment to speak, “Chase it baby” before continuing her assault on your cock. Her aggressive suckling and forceful squeezing from her hands brought you to your second orgasm, your seed shooting into her mouth as she swallowed you. The sounds and sight of her gulping and sucking was incredibly hot, and you almost never wanted it to stop.

“Lorraine…” You mumbled weakly, reaching for her and pulling her up to cuddle with you after she put you back into your boxers.

“Awh baby, I’m right here.” Lorraine cooed, letting herself straddle you as she helped you calm down.

Her hand wound itself into your hair, pulling your head to her chest as she scratched your scalp. She kissed your head a few times, murmuring sweet praises and compliments into your hair as she coaxed you to a relaxed state.

“What a gorgeous, talented girl.” She praised, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Could say the same ‘bout you…” You whispered, burying your face into her chest.

Never will you misjudge Lorraine’s oral skills, but you made a mental note to always ask for it every once and awhile.

—————————

yay

taglist:

@theafterofnevermore @k1mba @dreaming-of-u @thenextdawn @alexkolax @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @tundra1029 @cursedchar @i984 @vorsdany @fall-08 @myfturn @annalestern @deep-fried-egg

[hathorneheiress]

Midnight cuddles

Avery's POV

The wind howled fiercely as the doors to my outside patio shook with each gust of wind.

Hurricane Ivy was surely making her mark in meteorology history. of that I was confident.

Living in Connecticut almost all my life, I wasn't used to the extreme weather with now living in Texas.

Pulling the oversized comforter tighter around me I tried to relax in the very comfortable king-sized bed. Jameson had disappeared. Again.

The fact that my boyfriend disappeared once almost every 2 weeks wasn't too concerning. He always came back.

But tonight was different. The wild storm playing outside the doors did nothing to calm my nerves as I tried, and failed, to calm myself that Jameson was perfectly fine. Wearever the hell he was. My boyfriend lived for danger and thrills. Risks and dares were a second language to him. And I'd have to admit, sometimes for myself.

And then, as if summoned by some unholy magic, Jameson walked in soaked from head to toe.

"Are you alright?" I asked immediately sitting up.

"Are you actually worried about me?" Jameson Hawthorne flashed me his signature smirk.

"Of course I am." I replied indignantly. "If you weren't so reckless I wouldn't have to worry so much."

"But I thought that is what you liked about me Heiress?"

"You being stupid?"

"No. My fearlessness."

"Oh you're fearless alright."

"But the question is are you fearless Heiress?" He gave a devilish smile as he advanced toward the bed.

"Very. But don't you dare get on the bed all soaked. I don't feel like getting wet.

Jameson gave a fake pout.

I giggled. "Get changed, then we'll see."

A few minutes Jameson came back with no shirt and just dark blue sweat pants. His hair was stick dripping wet, but he was longer criminally close to get everything wet.

Crawling up beside me, he snaked his lanky arm around my waist pulling me in. I allowed it.

"So, where were you?" I had to ask.

"Went for a walk."

"In the rain?"

"Sometimes I need to do that."

"You can always talk to me if you need to."

"I know." He squeezed me while kissing me on the cheek. "You smell good."

"And you smell like rain and dirt."

"So I'm guessing I don't smell good."

"Not really. But that's ok. I still love you." It was my turn to kiss him.

"And I love you too."

"Really? Even when I annoy you?"

"You never annoy me."

I gave him a look.

"Ok, maybe a little. But I mean it Heiress. I love you. And it's not just for you're looks or smart brain. I love you're determination and willingness to help others. To stand up for yourself and pure heart. And mostly for putting up with me."

He paused for a breath and I took that moment to pull him in and passionately kiss him. He returned it heartily. Running my hand through his hair we stayed there for several minutes.

So invested we were that we didn't hear the sound of a camera going off. Looking up in shock we saw Xander standing there with his phone out.

"What are you doing in here?!" Jameson was outraged. "There is something called knocking."

"I did. No one answered. And I can see why." Xander gave a smirk.

"What do you need?" I wanted smack Xander so hard.

"I was seeing Jameson was finally home. Nash was worried about him. I see he is. I have proof."

"Don't you dare." Jameson looked like he was going to murder Xander.

"Dare what?" he asked innocently. "Send this to Nash and Grayson? Opps! I did!"

Jameson was up in an instant. "Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne! You get back here right now!" He threatened as Xander ran out of the room in top speed.

As mortified as I should have been, I wasn't. I laughed falling back on the pillows.

Just another night at Hawthorne House.

This is for all the AveryJameson fans out there.

Scroll down for a funny bonus part with all the brothers.

Bonus part

Nash's phone dinged five times.

"what the heck?" He thought. It was 12 in the morning. Grayson would never text him this late and Jameson usually was with Avery. So he guessed it must have come from Xander. And he was right.

He was greeted with a very in criminating photo of Avery and Jameson passionately kissing. Underneath Xander wrote:

"Jameson is home!"

"With Avery!"

"I found them like this"

Nash shook his head. There was no privacy in Hawthorne House. Ironic, since it was a massive place.

He replied. "Xander, get out of there. That is none of you're business."

A text quickly came back.

Xander: "Help!! Jameson is going to murder me!"

He mush have sent it as a group text because a text from Grayson came through.

"Good for him. Saves me from doing it."

Xander: "NOT NICE!!!"

"Alright, you 2 stop." Even texting Nash was having to keep them from killing each other.

"Xander deserves it!" Jameson had now joined the chat.

Xander: "I do not! I promise I didn't send it to anyone else.. Stop chasing me.

Grayson: You're texting while running?

Xander: YES"

Grayson: Stop being stupid.

Jameson: Yeah Xander. Stop doing stupid things.

Grayson: I was talking to both of you."

Nash decided he needed to join in before it got any worse.

Nash: ALRIGHT! You all stop. Jameson stop chasing Xander. Xander stop taking photos of people without their permission. And Grayson.. well, stop making things worse by being yourself.

Grayson: I'm going to pretend you didn't just insult me. I'm leaving.

Jameson: Good! We didn't want you here anyways.

Nash: Jamie shut up.

Jameson was quiet, so Nash guessed he finally gave up with Xander.

Just another night at Hawthorne Hous

[ihni]

Of fathers

For @harringrovesummerbingo, square B3, prompt "Gardening" (VERY loosely interpreted, also I never state it in writing that it takes place in summer but it does)

3K, mentions of child abuse, mentions of spousal abuse, mentions of infidelity.

(On AO3 here)

~~~

“She said I’m just like him.”

The words are quiet, muffled by the way Billy is hugging his knees and burying his face in the sleeves of his arms. The angry tears have stopped, but his eyes are still puffy and red where Steve can see them behind the curls hanging over his face. The redness matches the blue that is darkening under his left eye.

Steve, who has spent almost an hour – the whole time since his boyfriend showed up at his door, face bruised and tense – just holding him and pretending he didn’t see the tears or notice the hitched breathing, almost doesn’t catch the words. “What did you say?”

For a second, he thinks that Billy won’t repeat it. That he’ll be stubbornly quiet, or say that it was nothing and brush it off. It’s a relief when Billy unfolds a little where he’s sitting on Steve’s bed, before saying, more clearly, “She said I’m just like him.”

Steve frowns. “Who said that? And just like who?”

Billy sniffs and wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “Max. And Neil.”

That has Steve moving. He sits down next to Billy on the bed and reaches out to stroke the hair out of his eyes – carefully, as to not cause any additional pain. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Billy lets out a laugh that sounds closer to being a sob than anything else. “Oh she meant it. She was really mad.” Before Steve can speak, he continues, “And I don’t blame her. I was mad too. After Neil did this –“ He gestures at his face, “– I needed an excuse to get out. Told her I’d give her a ride to Sinclair’s house if she wanted. And then I did, but … I was so angry. And I just can’t keep my mouth fucking shut when I’m angry. I’m the kind of asshole who just have to take it out on someone.” He lowers his voice so it’s almost a whisper as he states, “She’s right. I am just like him.”

Steve bites his lip. Puts his hand on the back of Billy’s neck while he thinks of how to ask, rubbing his thumb in what he hopes is soothing circles on the skin he can reach. He decides that the best way is to ask outright. “Did you … hurt her?”

Billy flinches. Pulls out of Steve’s grip. “No! Not … not like that.” He deflates. “I didn’t hit her or anything.”

“What happened, then?” Steve asks, instead of What did you do? Because that would sound like an accusation, and Billy doesn’t need that right now.

“I yelled at her. She yelled back. I yelled more. Then I hit the dashboard. I … I scared her.”

“But you didn’t hurt her. You didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“One doesn’t have to lay a hand on someone to hurt them,” Billy protests, and well. He knows that from experience, Steve supposes.

Still. “You didn’t hurt her like that,” Steve insists. “You’re nothing like your dad, Billy.”

Surprisingly, that makes Billy bark out a laugh. He squeezes his eyes shut and new tears roll down his cheek. “You’re actually right about that one, pretty boy!”

As much as Steve wishes that this is just Billy taking his words to heart and accepting them as truth, he doubts that’s what’s happening. Billy looks too devastated for that. So he asks, “What do you mean?”

Again, he expects silence, or to be brushed off. And again – albeit after a long while – Billy surprises him by speaking.

“I mean that … Did you know that Neil isn’t my real dad?”

Steve’s eyebrows flies up on his forehead and his mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to say to that kind of revelation. He doesn’t know what one is supposed to say in a situation like this.

“Are you … are you sure?” is what he goes with, and he immediately makes a face and wishes he could take the words back, because what kind of question is that? Luckily it seems that Billy finds his transgression funny rather than offensive, because he lets out a snort.

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“But you …” Steve starts. Stops. Figures, fuck it, and continues, “You kind of … look like him?” It comes out as a question, and Billy makes a face. Like he knows, and doesn’t like it. “Sorry,” Steve adds.

Billy shakes his head. “No, that’s … I do, that’s the thing.” His voice breaks, and Steve’s heart twinges. “I do look like him. Or, well …” He trails off.

He looks so small, hunched over on Steve’s bed, arms around his torso like he’s holding himself together. Like he had to learn to hold himself, because no one else would. Well fuck that, Steve is here now – Steve will gladly hold him.

He reaches out, slowly and carefully in case Billy reacts badly. When there is no reaction, he puts his arm around Billy’s shoulders and pulls him closer. With his free hand, he reaches for Billy’s hand. Billy not only allows it, but melts into it. Relaxes into the almost-hug, and lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while.

There is silence for a while. Steve doesn’t mind it. He waits for Billy to speak, and is rewarded when, after some time, Billy takes a breath.

“My mom kept a garden in our first house, when I was little. Just a small one, like a couple of flowerbeds and some bushes, but she liked it.” A pause. “She liked watching things grow.” Another pause, and when he continues, his voice is strained. “Too bad that only applied to plants, and not her son.”

Squeezing Billy’s shoulders, Steve wordlessly offers his support. He knows that it takes a lot out of Billy to speak of his mother.

“She wasn’t very good at it, though. Which … yeah. Figures.”

Again, Steve says nothing. After a while, Billy starts again, with something that sounds like a non sequitur.

“You know how Neil was in the war?”

Steve nods, even though Billy can’t see it. Tries to keep up. “Yeah, Vietnam. You’ve mentioned it.”

“Right. Uh, well. Neil has a brother. Had a brother. Or, no, has, I don’t know, I guess he’s still alive. Probably.” Billy shakes his head as if to clear it. His voice is raspy. “Anyway, his brother – Roger – he wasn’t in the war. He’d hurt his leg in his youth and he walked with a limp, so he didn’t have to go. Or so my mom told me, anyway.” He swallows and throws a quick glance at Steve before looking away again. “He did many odd jobs, but one of them was apparently gardening. So he helped mom plant that garden at that first house. She went to him for tips, asked advice. That kind of thing.” He licks his lips. “When Neil was overseas, Roger … helped her tend to it.”

Steve sits quiet and still next to him, carefully not interrupting when Billy huffs out a breath and continues, “He … helped her with other things too, while Neil was away.” A significant look in Steve’s direction. “He wasn’t just there for the garden, if you know what I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to swallow. “Oh,” he says as realization dawns. “So … he and your mom, they …” He trails off, as if not wanting to say it out loud.

“Bumped uglies?” Billy snorts. “Yeah. Or … they must have, because when Neil got home … I mean. I was born seven months after Neil got back. Not nine. And like, I’ve seen my baby pictures.” He smiles, a little more real this time. “I was a fat baby. Way too big to have been born two months early, if you catch my drift.”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, and entwines his fingers with Billy. “I get it.” Billy relaxes marginally; softens under his touch.

“Neil and Robert, they were close when they grew up. It was just two years between them – Neil was the oldest. And they … they looked a lot alike.” He shrugs. “Which is probably why Neil caught on, eventually. Because he’d always known that mom had had an affair when he was away. But he didn’t know with whom, she wouldn’t tell him, no matter how much he … how much he hurt her. And then I got older, and I started looking like him. But … he knew I couldn’t be his.” He takes a deep breath, bites his lip. Steels himself to continue. “And Robert, he was still around, yeah? To me, he was just Uncle Rob. He used to come around the house all the time, have dinner with us and watch the game with Neil just like usual … And he’d play with me. Bring presents for my birthday and Christmas, spend the holidays with us, and ....” He laughs, but the laugh breaks and he clamps his teeth together. Forces a smile. “And help mom with her garden.”

He quiets, but it’s not the kind of quiet where he regrets speaking; it’s not him snapping his mouth shut and going on the defensive, it’s not him getting up and leaving. It’s more like, he doesn’t know how to continue.

So, gently, Steve prompts, “I take it your dad … I mean, Neil … knows?”

A beat, then, “Oh yeah.”

“How did he find out?”

Billy leans his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Him and my mom, they were fighting a lot when I was a kid. You know.” Steve hums in agreement. Billy has let a few things slip. “But … there were a lot of fights, and they got worse. From one day to another, Uncle Rob stopped coming over. Neil was angry all the time, and he’d look at me like …” He trails off, but he doesn’t have to continue. Steve has heard about the way Neil treats Billy – he can imagine. “Anyway. He dug up mom’s garden. I remember that, because she cried about it. And then we moved to another house. Smaller. No place for flowers.”

He puts a leg up on the bed and pulls it closer by the knee; making himself smaller. Steve doesn’t think he realizes that that’s what he’s doing.

“The fights got worse, Neil got worse. Mom stayed with him for a couple of years after that, but … But then she had enough. She told me the truth before she left, about Rob and that he was my real dad, and said that she’d come back for me and that we’d go live with him –“ His voice breaks, but he clears it and follows through; “She said that she’d come back for me.”

Steve can’t do anything but hug him, and feels like crying himself.

“But she didn’t,” Billy finishes. Wipes at his eyes uselessly. “And Neil … He went mental when she left. Destroyed all her things, threw out everything that she hadn’t brought with her, anything that reminded him of her.” He shrugs. “Unfortunately I reminded him of her, too. And of … Uncle Rob, I guess. I never saw either one of them again.”

The question is burning on Steve’s tongue; Why didn’t they come back for you? But he holds back, because he imagines that Billy must have asked himself that same question a thousand times.

As if Billy hears the unasked question though, he adds, “Neil’s name is on my birth certificate. By everything that counts, he’s my father. So it was his right to move us, again. To another city. I don’t think he told my mom that he was going to do it.”

It sounds like he’s grasping for straws, but Steve will never say it out loud. If Billy prefers to believe that his mother looked for him but couldn’t find him, over the fact that his mom gave him up and left him with her abusive asshole of an ex-husband, then that’s his right. Whatever helps. Steve is not so cruel as to pop that particular bubble.

“He doesn’t know that I know.”

“He … What?”

“Neil. He doesn’t know that mom told me. No one is supposed to know.” And yet here Billy is, telling Steve. “If people found out, Neil would be disgraced. Having his wife cheat on him, with his brother nonetheless, and then for him to knowingly raise another man’s child? He’d rather kill …” Himself, Steve’s mind supplies. But what follows is, “… me.”

There are a lot of things that Steve wants to say to that, and to everything else he has just learned, but he doesn’t know where to start. And besides, it doesn’t seem like Billy needs to be prompted into speaking, this time. The words are running out of him like he’s been waiting to tell someone.

“He hates me. I know he does. He looks at me and he sees my mom, and he sees my real dad, and … I’m just this walking, talking reminder of that betrayal, and I know he wants me gone, but he can’t throw me out because everyone thinks I’m his son and no one can find out the truth. And I know that he hates me.” He keens and turns his face into Steve’s sleeve, wetting his sweater with his tears. “Max too. And she’s right to hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Steve says and turns so that he can pull Billy into a proper hug. “She’s young, and she’s quick to anger, just like you, but she doesn’t hate you.”

“Yeah she does. She said I’m just like Neil, and she’s right.” He lets out a sob. “I don’t want to be, Steve. I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re not,” Steve says, shushing him gently. “You’re not, baby.” Billy’s crying speaks of heartbreak, of a hurt that goes way back and Steve is desperate with the need to soothe it; make it better, somehow. “Listen to me, Billy, you’re nothing like him. You’re feeling bad about yelling at Max, right? Well, do you think your da–“ He catches himself in time, “– Neil has ever felt bad about hurting you?”

“I don’t … I don’t know.”

“You apologized to me for hurting me in November, remember? And then you apologized to the kids, too, and you can apologize to Max for yelling at her today. Has Neil ever apologized to you?”

“No.”

“Do you think Neil has ever sat on a bed with his boyfriend, all messed up because he doesn’t want to be the kind of guy who hurts another person?”

It’s a bad attempt at a joke, but it works. Billy huffs out a wet laugh and sniffles. “Definitely not.”

“Well then there you go,” Steve says. He releases Billy from his embrace only so he can put his hands on either side of his face and turn him so they’re facing each other. He looks into Billy’s puffy eyes, and gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “You’re not your dad, Billy.” When Billy opens his mouth to speak, Steve speaks over him; “Either one of them. You are yourself.” He combs his fingers through Billy’s hair, watching him closely. “You’ve been dealt a shit hand in life. But you’ve made it this far, and you’re trying to be better every day and …” His eyes are burning. “I’m so proud of you for that.” Billy swallows and blinks, another tear running down his cheek. Steve can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to it, tasting the salt on his lips. “And I love you, okay? You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me.”

Billy lets out a sound that is half-laugh and half-sob, and closes his eyes as Steve rests his forehead against Billy’s. They sit like that for a while, eyes closed, touching and breathing the same air, until there are no more sobs; no more tears.

“I love you too.” Billy’s voice, when it comes, is low; barely a whisper. But they’re close enough that Steve hears it, close enough that he feels Billy’s breath on his skin as he speaks. “Thank you.”

Instead of saying that Billy doesn’t have to say thank you, or that Steve didn’t really do anything, Steve gives him another quick kiss – on his lips, this time – and leans back. He puts his hands on Billy’s shoulders and rights them both, and then gives a little smile.

“When are you picking Max up at Lucas’ place?”

Billy takes a deep breath and licks his lips, trying to put himself back together. “Quarter to seven. She has to be home for dinner.”

“Then how about you,” Steve says and points his index finger to Billy’s chest, “drive her home and use that time to … talk to her,” Apologize, he doesn’t say, “while I,” he points the finger back to his own chest, “order some pizza. And then you come back here and we’ll have dinner and watch some TV and you can spend the night.” Because Steve knows enough to know that Neil doesn’t really care if Billy’s home or not, after a fight that leave marks. Seems to prefer it when he’s not, actually. “How does that sound?”

It’s a testament to how far they’ve come, and to how much Billy has changed, when Billy just responds to that with a nod and a barely-there smile. Where he would once have refused to do what someone told him just because someone told him, and where he would have hated to be talked to as if he was a child, and probably would have acted out after his bout of vulnerability, now he just accepts it.

He accepts it because he’s grown. And because it’s Steve. And because they love each other.

“Sounds good.”

[imissnanami]

Hi Farmer Girl! ch.1

(stardew bachelors x f!reader/farmer) use of Y/N at the start, will change to the nickname "Farmer" in later chapters!

a/n | I've been working on this longfic for a while and thought I'd just start posting! hope you enjoy!

Ch. 1: Goodbye Joja Corp. 

Bright fluorescent lights cover the ceiling, every two panels down and three to the side, there are 92 in total. Fourteen of them are dead and the one right above the cubicle to the left has been flickering for the past two weeks, four days and three hours. 

How do you know? Y/N has been sitting in the same cubicle for the last four years. Having finished her Bachelor’s Degree, and having looked into all the “promising career paths”, a Joja part time- turned full time-job was all that was available. And frankly, it paid better than others. The price? Her soul... Apparently. 

That being said, the first few months weren’t all bad, what with the funny emails and decent pay, Y/N felt like it was the perfect stepping stone. Unfortunately, a summer turned into a year, which turned into two, and well, here we are. 

Clicking back and forth between two browser windows, Y/N watched them light up and grey out in turn. Having finished her allotted work for the day in the first three hours, she’s resorted to seeing if she can click both windows at the same time if she positions her mouse just right. So far, no luck. 

Mid click her cramped desk gets slightly darker. Despite the many ceiling lights, the close grid of the tiny cubicles allows for little light to actually reach their desks. And her dead lamp only adds to the problem. Sighing she bends down and check to see if it unplugged itself again. Nope. Unplugging it, Y/N turns the head of the lamp and checks the bulb. Yep. Dead. Heaving another dramatic sigh, she begins riffling through her desk drawers trying to find a replacement. 

The top drawer, having conveniently jammed, required a stronger yank. Which of course led to half her papers falling all over the floor. With a flat look Y/N slid out of her chair onto the floor and began picking up the papers. Deciding now was a better time than any, she began placing them in rough piles. Office work. Notices. “Company Moral”. A confused hand hesitated over a creme coloured envelope, a stark contrast to sea of blues from Joja. 

“What are you..” Y/N mumbled before bringing it closer. 

Messy handwriting spelt out: Y/N L/N Current Address

Feeling her heart drop upon recognizing the writing as her late Grandpa’s, she climbed backwards into the chair and pulled her legs up. Y/N was not a very organized person, and being unorganized led to things like forgetting if she’d locked her door, leaving her food on the stove for too long, and not cleaning her desk. When did she get this letter? One season ago? More?

Tearing the end of the envelop, she unfolded a single sheet. Three seasons ago. Fuck. Feeling a lump in her throat she began to read;

My Dearest Granddaughter Y/N, 

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight if what mattered most in life...real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong. Stardew Valley. 

You were young when this happened, but I had my will decided the year you were born. Looking at you and how happy of a baby you were, I knew I would do anything to ensure your future. Including leaving my farm to you. 

Pelican Town is a small place with wonderful people. And Stardew Valley Farm is now yours. I understand it is a lot to take in, but I assure you, the farm will wait as long as you need it to. I just hope it can deliver you the same joy it did me. 

Remember I love you and will always be there for you. It is never goodbye.

Your Grandpa.

Y/N sniffed heavily and rubbed at her eyes. Allergies man. 

Looking pathetically around herself, the close walls of her cubicle, her papers littered on the floor, the broken lamp, and the white noise of keyboard typing and mouse clicking, Y/N had one thought. 

I don’t want this. 

Shifting her computer mouse the screen jumped back to life. 4:00 PM. One hour to go. After she picked up her papers from the ground and shoved them back into the drawer, Y/N decided that a better use of her time was looking into Pelican Town and not clicking between windows. 

Typing in the location, a few measly articles popped up. A handful featured general knowledge about the valley. Small Town Jock: The Next Sensation? A community centre website. Nature Snap-Shot 20XX: Participant List. Some more about farm life. Local Teen Inventor Wins County Science Fair.

Scrolling down a little, Y/N realized the newest article was was a small blurb dated 4 years ago. Local Doctor Saves Little Girl. Clicking on the title, Y/N begins to read. 

“Doctor Harvey Alswell, having moved to Pelican Town only a few weeks ago, jumps into action when a young girl (Jas, age 3) gets an unexpected coughing bout. Dr. Alswell puts his newly polished skills to the test and upon close observation, discovered that little Jas had Bronchitis. Luckily, due to his early detection and carefully administered antibiotics with plenty of bed rest, Jas was able to make a speedy recovery. Despite his heroic introduction to Pelican Town, Dr. Aslwell is “just happy to help and glad Jas is OK.” With winter closely approaching its important to know the difference between the common cold and something worse.” 

The author then goes into more detail about the importance of heathy eating and cold prevention, which Y/N elected to skip out on. At least she knows that she wouldn’t die if she moved away. Wait, move away? Since when did she start having these thoughts, its been half an hour at most...

*

For the past week and a half, Y/N has been debating wether or not to uproot her entire life. On the “for” side, we have amazing things like; 

-regaining my sanity

-actually talking to someone other than Mr Brown (my old stuffed bear)

-seeing sunlight

Not bad. And on the “against” side; 

-I don’t know the first thing about farming

-Bugs

Aannndd that’s about it. Staring at the measly sticky note, Y/N heaved a sigh before groaning and reaching for her Grandpa’s letter. Flipping over the page, a small post script note was written at the bottom. 

P.S. For when you’re ready, contact Mayor Lewis at X-782-733-9859. He’ll set everything up.

Frowning at the fact it was a phone number, Y/N emotionally prepared herself for the oncoming conversation. After typing in the number and saving it under Mayor Lewis Pelican. She anxiously waited. Ring. Please don’t pick up. Ring. Please don’t pick up. Ring. Please don’t pick up. Ri- Fuck.

A crackled and slightly distorted voice came down the line. 

“Hello? This is Mayor Lewis, who’s speaking?”

“Um, hi this is Y/N L/N.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Hello Miss L/N. How may I be of Assistance?”

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember but my Grandpa had a farm in the Valley, sorry, town? Uh, it was called Stardew Valley Farm?”

There was another pause, this time longer. 

“Uh, Mayor Lewis?”

“Uh, yes, yes! I’m so sorry, I honestly was wondering if I’d hear from you. I thought that name was familiar! I remember your Grandfather well.”

Y/N fiddled with her phone case, waiting for Mayor Lewis to continue. 

“Anyways, Miss L/N, yes, G/N ran the Stardew Valley Farm. He left me a binder with everything I need to know, and how to pass it long to you.”

Mayor Lewis then began to detail how the farm would pass along to Y/N. Having not expected to get an info dump, she quickly began scribbling details and notes on her little sticky pad. An hour and a half later and a lot of “yeses” and “uh-huhs” later, Y/N had a detailed outline of how she’d be able to move into Stardew Valley and inherit her Grandpa’s farm within the month. If she wanted too. Ending the call with the promise of calling again soon, she finally was able to hang up. 

Letting out a sigh, she took in her messy table. Noticing one of the blue sticky notes had fallen down, she reached to pick it up. It was her first note with the points “for” and “against”, and it looked a bit sad now. Deciding to take a breather from all of that, Y/N thought it was a perfect time for a nap. 

*

The seasons, having just changed, mean one thing for Y/N. Rent was due. Which was stupid, cause who puts rent one week into the season? Anyways. As she came home from work, Y/N picked up the mail and brought it in. Dumping it on the table she got un-ready and put on come cozy pyjamas. Winter is no joke in the city. 

As she looked through the ads and bills, another unfamiliar envelope appeared. She seemed to be getting a lot of those recently. Taking a look at the cover, she frowned as the name of her building appeared in the top left corner. Sitting up, she opened it to be greeted with bold red letters. 

EVICTION NOTICE SPRING 20XX.

Well shit. Quickly skimming the content, Y/N found that the entire building was being sold out to Joja Corp., for their their new “economy apartment buildings”. Ha. Ha. She was really feeling the irony right about now. Realizing that there was nothing she could do about this, she stared at the wall while she thought.

It seemed like everything in her life was telling her to leave. So for once, she wasn't gonna put up a fight and just, “go with the flow”. Well. That’s made her decision a lot easier, 

“Pelican Town it is...” She mumbled.

After the shock had passed, Y/N looked over the letter to see if there was any other information she’d need to reference later. Sending a quick email to her asshole landlord that she’ll be out by the 1st of Spring, Y/N looked into how to quit. Other than just not showing up. Seeing that there was nothing more needed than her 2 weeks notice, she typed up another brief email and pressed send.

*ping*

Huh? Not having expected a reply right away, she clicked on the message only to find a generated auto-retainment email. Are you sure about this permanent decision? Please reconsider, we greatly value your presence at Joja Corporation. It’s people like you that let us do what we do. Blah. Blah. Blah. With no need to reply, Y/N picks up the phone to call Mayor Lewis.

“Hi Mayor Lewis, this is Y/N. About my Grandpa’s farm-”

a/n | tysm for reading! posting chapter 2 soon!

I do not authorize any plagiarism of my work in any shape or form. Please respect this. 

[mellowseulogy]

SAUDADE

IN WHICH: You get isekaied into the world of Attack On Titan and although you're scared, they remind of all of the reasons why you loved them in the first place.

tags: black reader, fluff and angst, canon typical violence, isekai, found family, 'kinda' reverse harem, swearing,

AN: I originally posted this on Wattpad but I figured crossposting wouldn't be too bad! This is also inspired by the wonderful curlycho's 'Sucked In' on Wattpad and AO3!

1.

Your eyes blinked open and a heavy whiplash overcame you. Instinctively, you groped around your bed to try to stabilise yourself. But when you pulled the covers up to your nose, the sheet was thin, caked with dust, and smelled terrible. Through a brief coughing fit, you rubbed your gunk-crusted eyes clean and leaned forward.

This was not your bedroom.

"She's awake!" A voice cried out. You couldn't see where the person was so you assumed it was from a bit away from you.

On the back of your forearms, you pushed yourself onto your butt and like a tidal wave, the expanse of greenery swarmed you.

In front of you was a large oak tree scratched with a chunk that seemed to be... bitten off. Its bark stretched high into the sky - pretty leaves fanned out over you and through the small gaps in them, an auburn sky waning navy from the coming night. Underneath you was a bed of blue flowers hidden in thick grass. It almost reminded you of something you saw on the... Your mind went blank.

That didn't explain how you were here though...

"Helloo~." There were hands on your shoulders and you jerked back in sudden shock. Grabbing your sheets, you crawled away from your current resting point and backed yourself uselessly against the tree.

"Woah, you're fast...uh sorry to scare you, sorry! Just was happy to see you weren't ya know... dead is all." The girl who had scared you half to death had an extremely apologetic look on her face and she had her head bowed. By the looks of it, she seemed to be the same age as you but she was wearing a uniform of some kind. An emblem of swords on her blazer's chest.

In her remorseful spiral, a boy began to walk up behind her - there was a bowl in his hands. "Sasha, what did we say about sneaking up behind people? You don't just jump on someone when they've just come out of unconsciousness, she could've died of a heart attack."

He crouched beside her and stared at her, she stared back, then he switched the bowl into his left hand and flicked her square on the forehead. The girl (Sasha) recoiled backward in pain and rolled in the grass, clutching at her head. This whole moment could've been very funny to you emitting one little thing... you still had no clue where the hell you were.

Shoveling down your nerves, you pulled the sheet down from your knees and coughed to get the pair's attention. "W-where am I?" You tried to look assertive but you're sure that your voice gave you away.

There was a ninety-nine percent chance these thoroughly unserious people weren't kidnappers. So you weren't terrified but it still bothered you. However, there was still that one percent...you think you read a book about it once.

The boy with the bowl in his hands shuffled a little closer to you, you shuffled back wary of the steam that bellowed out of it. It smelled really nice though. "Hey, sorry about Sasha she's a bit there." Sasha mouthed another sorry. "My name is Jean and my squad found you on the edge of a cliff."

"Well actually, me and Eren did." Another boy had started to walk over with a towel and bundle of something in his hands - his hair was shaven. "Jeanboy was too much of a wuss to grab you."

"Shut up, Connie and let me finish." He ended with a frustrated grunt. Then, he looked up at you and smiled. "So, we brought you back to our camp so we can fix you up before we start our expedition back to the barracks."

He brought the bowl to your hands. "It's soup, regain your strength and then we can talk. Who knows how long you were out there for." He rummaged in his pockets and gave you a spoon. You just stared.

"Or, do you want me to...feed you?" Jean said.

"No, thanks." You took the spoon from his hands.

He nodded, understandingly but with the way the bald boy smirked maybe he wasn't as pleased.

Inside the bowl was a clutter of all kinds of vegetables, swirling around in a dark brown soup. It looked alright, but poisoning was still very much a possibility. These people didn't seem too hostile in any capacity, with the way they were goofing around a meagre fire. Swirling the contents of the meal in contemplation, you tried to hone in on what happened before all of this - when you tried...your mind drew blank.

Like an incomplete storyboard with no beginning or end, you were plastered in the middle of it all. Thinking hurt because there was nothing to think back to - you didn't like it.

But right now you were in the middle of nowhere and a horrific grumble started to settle in your stomach. Gingerly shoveling a spoonful of soup into your mouth, you were honestly surprised. It didn't taste half as bad as you thought it would. Wonder why. After finishing the remaining potatoes and carrots, you licked your lips with relish. You hadn't truly realised the full extent of your hunger.

"You tore that up." The boy with a shaved head said next to you - you hadn't even noticed he was there. He was the one holding all those herbs and towels. Staring for a moment he broke out into a snicker. "You can talk, you know. I'm not gonna eat you." That's when you noticed that you were staring again like an idiot.

He sat down on the grass next to you and placed his tools on a box. "Just here to fix you up, laying on a cliffside doesn't sound healthy." He dipped the towel into the bowl a damp towel and wrung it into the dirt. In the midst of all of this, you finally realise how quiet you've been, they probably think you're some poor abandoned teen.

"What's your name?" You asked.

He looked up from crushing down purplish liquid into some blue flowers. "Connie Springer. Yours?"

You thought hard, for something that should've been as easy as breathing, your mind wrapped into coils in trying to think.

"You look like you're about to take a shit." He smiled, "S'alright you're probably still a bit hazy, don't worry about it."

He finishes up with a small bowl of something orange and says, "Alright, gonna dab this on your face while it's still warm, let me know if it's okay."

First, he tried to push your hair behind your ears but a curl kept sticking out. It was kind of cute seeing his tenacity.

When he finally moved your hair out of the way, he patted the towel gently around your face. You didn't know if this had any sort of special remedy but it unwinded your very rigged mind. You let out a long deep breath and you let yourself relax into the touch, eyes flitting closed.

"Open your mouth for me." And you did it with minimal resistance. He tipped the contents of a metal cup into your mouth - you promptly wrinkled your eyebrows.

"Gross." You muttered, it was nasty. Ucky. Vile.

Connie chuckled, "I know, it's terrible, isn't it? But it's just a drinkable antiseptic. Not a permanent solution but will fight anything nasty."

"Hah! See I remember, Jean. Practical medicine's pretty easy when you're besties with Armin."

"Armin."

"Oh, you'll see him in a minute - he's like super smart."

Armin. You played with the name on your tongue whilst trying to shake off the nasty aftertaste of that medicine. It sounded familiar, you focused intently on your memories to try and piece something together...

...all you could remember was the pressure of drowning.

"Hey! When do the others get back? I don't think we have enough firewood to cook all of our dinners!" Sasha yelled.

Connie smirked, focused on patching up a deep cut on your forearm. "You sure you didn't eat all of it?"

"Nuh-uh, I've been focusing on my hunger on this expedition," Sasha said. "Besides, I think you'd all kill me if I did."

The sky was losing its evening haze and turning a deep blue.

"Well, they better hurry up." Jean said, lounging on a log.

A rustle in the bushes set you on edge, you figured it was the rest of their squad but you could never be too sure.

Pushing the leaves aside, a brown bear thudded on the forest floor. Before you could comprehend, you screamed, scrambling up onto your feet.

"Get behind the tree!" Connie whisper-yelled to you.

Jean, Sasha and Connie had quickly pulled out long swords from behind a severed tree. Coordinated at each other's sides, ready to attack.

Another rustle in the bushes and out came a pair of legs, stepping over the bear.

"Sorry for scaring you, guys." An extremely tall boy raised his hands in mock defeat.

Sasha gasped, "Bertolt?!" Her eyes flitted down to the bear. To which now she realised was very much dead.

Jean placed both his, Sasha and Connie's swords behind the stump and ushered you from behind the tree.

Bertolt and another person had carried the bear to the middle of the camp. She had long dark hair in a ponytail and looked strangely absent from the whole situation.

Two others followed from behind carrying firewood. But a headache had blossomed shortly after your adrenaline had simmered, so you sat down.

These other people seemed to be the rest of the squad Jean was talking about. It seemed like they had killed the bear for food.

Its dead, glassy eyes peering holes into your own. You ceased eye contact and settled on finding out who these new people were.

"Oh yeah, Eren, she woke up," Connie said nonchalantly whilst placing new firewood to rekindle its might. But to Eren, this seemed to be the most astonishing news ever.

Like you hadn't had enough, he rushed over to your resting place and took your hands in his own.

Almost immediately, pain bloomed in the back of your head. Your ears rang loudly and you tried to blink away a steady stream of tears wetting your cheeks. Your stomach turned.

"H-how are you feeling?" Eren asked, concerned. But it only came through muffled ears.

Oh.

"A-alright, just a bit of a headache."

There was an awkward pause when Eren was simply focused on scanning your face.

When the pain subsided, the world felt slightly clearer. Only slightly.

Armin came up from behind Eren. "Uh, Eren. I'm pretty sure she should rest." He nodded, moved back on his heels and stood up.

"Y-yeah, sorry. I'm just glad, that's all." He walked over to the campfire to help Connie fry some leftover meat.

Armin. Looked over to you and smiled, but you were too disgruntled to smile back.

The dark-haired girl was busy gutting the bear with Jean. But her gaze had flicked over to you with a note of blankness behind her eyes. You only looked back, stupefied

Mikasa.

.

Attack on Titan?

.

Oh god...

.

.

.