#the bane of all neighbors lives

[kaleb-is-definitely-sane]

My mom asked me why I didn't go to prom.

What do you mean why? There are only 3 people I'd even consider taking: 1 I haven't spoken to in months, the second lives in another country and the third LIVES IN AN EVEN FARTHER AWAY COUNTRY!!!!

[lizzy06]

Atsumu Miya x Reader Fic Recs!!

(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Inarizaki Fic Rec Masterlist

A Debt Repaid✨ by matchumu (oneshot, sibling love)"Just keep the money." Atsumu repeats. "Don't think of it as a charity. Just think of it as a debt repaid."It was Miya Atsumu who bought the first Onigiri Miya store. [COMPLETED]

a world without you by my side by farozaan (oneshot, happy ending, waking up in alternate au, time travel) He wanted just a single day without his brother all around him. That would be paradise. Miya Osamu makes a wish and regrets it. [COMPLETED]

shrimply in love ✨ by @caelivir (oneshot, fluff) atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.[COMPLETED]

MSBY! Soulmate x Reader by @watevermelon (oneshot, fluff, slight angst to fluff, mutual pinning)You knew all about his personality, whether through the rumor vine or the numerous warnings your friends gave you. But there was no avoiding it - he was your soulmate after all .[COMPLETED]

The Boy Next door by @quirrrky (neighbors, humor, enemies to lovers, fake dating, friends to lovers) Your new neighbor is everything you’ll never ask for. Your life starts changing for better and for worse when Miya Atsumu rents the apartment next to you. The most unfortunate part? Everything about him. With his annoying good looks and equally irritating charm, how can you not resist the boy next door? [HIATUS??] <this is a lovely fic but has not been updated in a while, but I am still putting it up here !!>

In Screaming Color✨ by moonmayhem (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)A soulmate AU where, if you dye your hair, your soulmate's hair changes as well. [COMPLETED]

an epilogue of sorts by mooshys (oneshot, fluff, humor)Atsumu wants to prove that he definitely knows his way around the kitchen by opting to cook dinner for you to celebrate your one year anniversary together. Thing is, he needs a little help if he wants to impress you tonight.[COMPLETED]

Shower Friends ✨✨by just_j(fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst)The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s even remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. And when he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme to convince them he does. [COMPLETED]

A Genius mess by @mimi-cee-hq (oneshot, fluff)Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.[COMPLETED]

(un)loving miya atsumu✨✨ by alicemitch09(angst, Unrequited love, Jealousy, Happy ending)You were 9 when you first met the Miya twins when you moved to Hyogo. The two boys would eventually turn to be your closest friends, as much as rascals the two can be. you loved one twin more than the other - a love that was more than friendship. Sadly, Atsumu obviously loved your big sister more. Of course he did, she was everything you were not.[COMPLETED]

incomplete song ✓✨ | angst, post break up | one shot | by @tooruluv

Hecklin' ✨by Airomi (fluff, humor) according to your experience, bothering someone so much that they fall in love. [COMPLETED]

Call You Mine [Miya Atsumu X Reader] by tsumusamu(friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mutual pinning)Being in unrequited love with your best friend sucks. It's even worse when the friend you're in love with is Miya Atsumu. [ONGOING]

That's My Girl by wttcsms(oneshot, smut) Atsumu Miya gets jealous.[COMPLETED]

Jealous atsumu ✨ by @etherrreal (oneshot, fluff, comfort)atsumu swears he’s not the jealous type, until the pictures you post with his brother prove him wrong.[COMPLETED]

little changes ✨by kuroopaisen (enemies to friend to lovers, past roommates )Miya Atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life.[COMPLETED]

Mind Boggling Pt 1, Pt 2✨ by @seokiloquy (soulmate au, fluff, humor)At particular times (Once a year/ certain age/ hours/ or randomly) soulmates swap bodies for some time.[COMPLETED]

“These Words”  by @myhaikyuuthings (oneshot, soulmate au, angst)soulmate au your soulmates last words ever said are on your body, they turn red when said, first words ever said to you are on another part of your body, they turn gold when said.[COMPLETED]

with our fates tangled together by @chunhua (oneshot, angst to fluff) soulmates are bound together by a red string.[COMPLETED]

Unexpectedly yours by @love-nishinoya-yu (Soulmate au, oneshot) You have the same tattoos.[COMPLETED]

nice receive✨   by @tsumusamu (oneshot, fluu, humor) eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don’t go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it’s easy to see why.[COMPLETED]

I’m Here, So Sleep by @dokifluffs (oneshot, fluff, comfort) Warnings: anxiety towards school and life, overthinking, insomnia. [COMPLETED]

Set the Bar High by BeansNCornbread(enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, angst)A college AU where you work at an off campus bar and when Atsumu finds this out, he never leaves you alone. Classic enemies to lovers storyline with serendipity, snide comments, and a whole lot of sexual tension.[COMPLETED]

you're not the one✨ ✨ by heartcondemned (fake dating, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst) How to make your lifelong crush jealous and like you back? Easy.Fake date one of his friends. [COMPLETED]

So...What do Ya say? by @yourstarvic After finding your fiancé you have been with many years cheating on your best friend. You tried to confront them but they never showed up…So what do you do? You drink at the bar trying to figure out what to do. And who else there to help you if not the good looking stranger you met at the bar? [COMPLETED]

Email Me Why✨ by @yourstarvic(oneshot, fluff, humor)Atsumu needs to come up with the perfect email to go on a date with his captain's little sister. [COMPLETED]

You okay? by @yourstarvic (oneshot, angst) It's your wedding day, atsumu is sad. [COMPLETED]

lazy texter by myhugelove (fluff, humor, online friends to lovers) a short fic in which a schoolmate who is not on his phone much suddenly becomes great at texting when it comes to you. [COMPLETED]

you found me✨ by Amy_stark117(fluff, angst, eventual smut)Miya Atsumu had his life goals set - volleyball, fame, and success. Nothing could stand in his way. You threw all that out the window, simply by sitting next to him in class. [COMPLETED]

7 Reasons by Channelei(mutual pinning, fluff, humor)in which you realize why you fell in love with your hot headed, over-confident, cocky, arrogant asshole of a best friend.[COMPLETED]

then the moment came by @justauthoring (oneshot, soulmate au, loosely based of silent voice) It just never was the right time. Not then, not later, until it suddenly is and everything’s… different.[COMPLETED]

Diligence ✨by kaientai (friends to lovers, childhood friends, requited unrequited love) Diligence requires the courage of a fool who wouldn't think twice before walking into an open flame, and in the span of a few months, your childhood friend Atsumu proved that he truly is one of the biggest fools to date. [COMPLETED]

Forget me,too ✨ by @saintobio (oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort, past lovers) after a series of broken promises and unresolved arguments, perhaps all atsumu needed is to hear you say good bye for one last time.[COMPLETED]

sweetner ✨ by flying_raijin(fake dating, fluff, angst, humor)you're just being petty. Faking a relationship with the first guy in sight after the love of your life dumps you out of nowhere? [COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

He’s My Best Friend by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

White noise ✨ by 1keshi(childhood friends, friends to lovers, slowburn, fluff, angst) you force a therapist to listen to the story of how you fell in love with your childhood friend, because what else are you supposed to do? [COMPLETED]

A Bit Yours ✨by Declaraso (fake dating, enemies to lovers, humor) Atsumu's clumsy with words. You think he's a jerk. But for some reason, you both agreed to go through such a stupid plan.[COMPLETED]

The Breaking Point✨ by melremade(smut, oneshot)They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. When it comes to Miya Atsumu, it might as well be a brick wall topped with barbed wire and surrounded by a minefield. [COMPLETED]

Perfect Union by wttcsms(oneshot, fluff, smut, friends to lovers)[COMPLETED]

Laws of Motion by miyachondria (friends to lovers, slowburn)First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage -- according to every other person.[ONGOING]

(1) One Missed Call by satorini (teetorini)(smut)You work for an anonymous phone sex business on campus, and you would have never guessed that your first client would be the Atsumu Miya—most popular guy on campus who sits three seats ahead of you in calculus. And you're pretty sure he doesn't even know you exist. [ONGOING]

One Day by flying_raijin()When you get asked by Vogue Japan to be the star of their "Day in the life of a Pro Volleyball player" video, you agree because you don't think there's much that could go wrong. Unfortunately, your boyfriend is an absolute menace, and decides to act as such for the whole world to see.[COMPLETED]

FWB by flying_siphonophore(fluff, smut, angst, mutual pinning)What comes after a kiss that shouldn't have happened in the first place?[COMPLETED]

lovestruck, watching over you by strawberricream(fluff, mutual pinning)in your second year of high school, you catch atsumu’s eye. he tries to get to know you when he realizes that it didn’t take much work to open you up. in your third year together in the same class, he realizes that the hard work came from elsewhere.[COMPLETED]

Storm Chaser by sunmoonstarsrain()Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it's impossible to tame a storm.[COMPLETED]

A Second Chance by Gremlin_Lord (Unplanned pregnancy, angst, fluff) Atsumu broke up with you 3 years ago. But fate had other plans and decided to reunite the two together with your kid along. [ONGOING]

[usermischief]

♚ Pairing: Sterek ♚ Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale ♚ Tags: canon divergence, getting together ♚ Words: 2883

ao3

---

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Still, Derek stays silent as he looks at him. It’s not particularly comforting – that is, until his gaze drops to Stiles’ mouth then flicking back up again, a slow smile curling around his lips.

Stiles��� heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

---

Click.

Cursing softly under his breath, Stiles flicks the light switch up again. Down. Up. Down. Up. “Fucking hell.” Stiles massages the bridge of his nose. His stupid light. Everything else – even exorcising this damned place – worked out beautifully. Which is a miracle. Thanks to the residual demon, who infested this place after the previous owners fucked around – and found out – with a Ouija board in the late 50s, this house has been in a nightmarish state. Every inch of this place was a deathtrap. Rotten wood. Broken stairs. A ceiling, roof and second floor so unstable, a gust of wind could cause everything to collapse in a heartbeat.

Stiles spent more than one night in a tent in front of the house.

A bark cuts through the silence of the house, startling him out of his thoughts. Drawing his brows together, he looks past the stubborn ceiling light to the second-floor landing. The puppy he’s found under the house, white fur crusted with dirt and blood – aptly named Bobak, Bo for short – and who has refused to leave Stiles’ side ever since he fed him for the first time, is staring at him almost expectantly. Although some dog owners most likely won’t be happy about his lifestyle – flipping and clearing out haunted houses and constantly moving around – Stiles refuses to give Bobak away. Bo might not be the cuddliest or most social of dogs, he still makes Stiles’ life less, much less, lonely.

Bo barks again.

Stiles quirks a brow. “What? It’s not dinner time yet.”

Wagging his tail, Bo bounds down the stairs, nearly tumbling down the last two steps. He catches himself, jumps up the front door once before all but flying around Stiles’ legs then, finally, making a mad dash out of the backdoor and into the yard. There, he keeps zooming around, causing colored leaves to fly into the air, and barking his adorable little head off, too big ears fluttering in the wind. He’s going to miss Bo’s floppy ears once he’s grown into them.

Before Stiles can follow him, there’s a knock on the door. He glances up at the clock, narrowing his eyes once more as it passes the current bane of existence – maybe he should just get an electrician this once – and turns to the front door. It’s not late, per se, but darkness is setting in, and people are still keeping their distance to this place. So, he isn’t usually expecting anyone to swing by, even less since his closest neighbor lives around a mile away, but the person he never imagined to come over is Derek Hale.

Drawing his brows together, Stiles swings the door open.

“Hey.” Derek’s smile seems strained. To be honest, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else – not unlike the first time they met at the only diner in town. Well, met might be stretching it. That day, Derek couldn’t finish his lunch fast enough, even Sally was surprised by his precipitate behavior. So much so, she commented on it while serving Stiles his food.

He had chalked it up to Derek sensing something about him the same way Stiles clocked him as a werewolf the second he laid eyes on him – aside from noticing that the guy is a walking and talking Calvin Klein advertisement. Instead of avoiding him, however, Derek kept showing up all over the place. It seemed accidental, but Stiles has dealt with enough supernatural creatures and grew up with a sheriff that he can recognize stalking behavior when he sees it.

Derek’s never been lurking around here, though.

Well, not until today, that is.

And Stiles’ heart is having a field day with it, which is rather unfortunate with Derek’s supernatural hearing and all.

Stiles manages to clear his throat about thirty seconds into the terribly awkward silence. “Hey.” He sounds like an idiot. He feels like one too. “Can I- do you-” Bo interrupts him with a slew of excited barks, zooming through the hallway and back out again, sending more leaves flying around; it gives Stiles a few seconds to gather himself. “You wanna come in?”

“I bought dinner,” Derek says at the same time.

They both stare at each other, and the silence makes Stiles’ neck grow uncomfortably warm.

Luckily, Derek cuts it short. “I’d love to.”

Stiles steps aside and gestures for Derek to come in. This is happening. He’s not entirely sure how or why, but it is, and Stiles is not about to complain. The last time a hot guy walked into his home was – when? Stiles doesn’t really remember. Which is sad, honestly. Sure, he’s been aware that both his social and love life have sailed off a cliff once he started dictating his life to ghost and demon hunting, but now, watching Derek stroll into his kitchen, he realized for the first time how bad it’s really gotten in the past four years.

“Looks good,” Derek remarks, almost curious in the way he’s taking everything in. “You did an excellent job keeping the old charm alive.”

Crossing his arms, Stiles leans against the large doorway leading to the kitchen. “You’ve been here before?”

Derek shrugs as he puts the bag with the takeout on the dinner table. “Teenagers and haunted houses.”

“Werewolves too?”

If Derek is surprised that Stiles knows, he doesn’t show it. Instead, an almost cheeky grin curls around his lips. “Werewolves especially.”

Stiles snorts and crosses the room. “I expected you to be smarter.” He glances at Derek, smirking briefly, and steps in front of the only cupboard he uses. The good thing about moving around so much is that he never collects any clutter. As a teen and college student, things looked very different. Two boxes, a couple of suitcases and his backpack fit into Roscoe anyway. Now that Bo is traveling with him, he’s got to figure out the new logistics.

“How’d you do it?” Derek asks as he takes the two plates from him.

Their fingers brush, either on purpose or entirely accidental. Stiles doesn’t know, but the touch sends a tingle through his whole body. A good tingle, great even, and Stiles hates to realize how touch starved he really is.

Stiles opens the fridge, scowling a little as he’s greeted with emptiness. He really needs to go grocery shopping. “Very carefully,” he replies and grabs two bottles of beer. “And lots of research." Once he's figured out where to look, finding pictures of old houses isn’t that much of a struggle. Often, he meets the previous owners, who either think he’s suicidal or are very happy to help.

Derek watches him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “The demon or the house flipping?”

“Ah.” Stiles sets the bottles on the table and leans against the edge. “That’s why you’re here.”

Derek merely watches him, eyebrows climbing higher as his expression turns more and more expectant. An alpha after all. He’s probably used to people jumping at his command.

It might be fun to let him stew for a little longer. “You know, you could’ve just asked.”

“I just did.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh, “I meant ask me about why those werewolf senses are tingling whenever you’re around me.” He cocks his head to the side and decides to put himself out there, for once, “unless, of course, there are other reasons for that.” He’s got Derek in his house already and considering that he leaves as soon as it is sold, there’s no harm done, no awkward darting around each other needed in case he’s rejected. Two months tops, and he’s out of this town, where everyone knows everybody, and nothing ever stays secret.

Derek’s lips twitch.

Good. So, Stiles didn’t exactly imagine the lingering looks whenever they, clearly not entirely accidentally, ran into each other absolutely everywhere. In a town with less than 100 people, it’s impossible to hide anyway.

“Tingling?” Derek echoes, more amused than in disbelief.

Stiles lets his head fall back, watching out of the corner of his eye as Derek’s gaze drops to his neck then back up again. “You’re a poor conversationalist.”

“And you’re dodging the question.”

Stiles clicks his tongue, rolling his head to the left to look at the werewolf again. “Geez, D, you can’t just ask people why they’re making you feel weird.”

A flicker of annoyance dances over his features, either at the nickname or his refusal to give him the desired reply. Still, Derek props his hands on the table and leans closer, one eyebrow raised. “I can if I consider them a danger to my pack and territory.”

Fair point.

However, “I literally exorcised this fucking demon.” Although nobody has died in this house in almost a decade, Stiles considers it future deaths prevented.

Derek taps a finger against the table, allows red to bleed into his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pushes away from the table and faces the werewolf, arms crossed firmly in front of his chest. Although Derek didn’t outright threaten him, Stiles is fully aware that this evening could easily turn into his last if the big bad alpha considers him too dangerous, which would very much be the exact opposite of how he’d prefer this evening to go. He sighs. “I was possessed by a nogitsune when I was sixteen.” Stiles doesn't miss as Derek’s expression return to stoic, listening, waiting. He sees the way his shoulders tense, the way something in his eyes shift, ever so slightly. The moment of truth, always and forever. "It did some weird shit with my body, cracked my mind like an egg, hence the whole-” he waves his hand around. “Thought I could do something good if I can pierce the veil, you know?” It makes him feel less guilty about the shit the nogitsune did while using his body like a meatsuit.

But that’s something nobody else needs to know about.

Derek straightens.

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Still, Derek stays silent as he looks at him. It’s not particularly comforting – that is, until his gaze drops to Stiles’ mouth then flicking back up again, a slow smile curling around his lips.

Stiles’ heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

“You think you can kill me?” Stiles chuckles, playing pretend. Dealing with demons is one thing. They’re very capable of murder, more so than ghosts, but depending on their strength and rank, they need time – time to get into your head, time to fuck with you. They have to chip away their target’s defenses. Knowing and being prepared for a demon makes dealing with them a lot easier. Plus, if he’s learned anything from his own possession, it’s how to keep things out of his mind. Werewolves are a different beast entirely. If they want someone dead, all they have to do is pin them down and rip their throat out.

Derek pushes away from the table and all but stalks closer to him, narrowing the small distance the table offers. “Of course, I could.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the table. It’s one of the few things Stiles could repair from the old furniture, so, luckily, Derek keeps his claws in check.

Stiles swallows drily and rips his gaze away from Derek’s hand, locking eyes with him again. “Awfully confident there, buddy.”

His words are met with a near predatory glint in the hazel eyes. Beautiful hazel eyes, at that. Easy to get lost in.

Focus.

“You don’t scare me.”

Derek stops directly in front of him. They’re nearly chest to chest, and although Derek isn’t necessarily taller than him, Stiles feels weirdly small. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way he is holding himself, the way he is looking at him – as if Stiles is a rabbit cornered by the big bad wolf. Red bleeding into his eyes accentuates the whole predator predicament.

Fucking werewolves, seriously.

“Cute,” Stiles comments anyway, uncrossing his arms and straightening his shoulders and spine. “Still not scared, though.” They’re probably both aware that’s not entirely true, but he’s never been someone to back down from a challenge. “You gotta do more than creeping around in the bushes and stare at me with your alpha eyes.” Especially since the latter is actually pretty damn hot, which isn’t exactly helping the situation.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Derek informs him in a casual yet amused tone.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, big guy.”

Derek chuckles, letting his head fall forward as he does so – and Stiles can’t help but watch his mouth move. It’s fascinating. Every time he’s seen Derek, the guy has been scowling. Stiles didn’t think he could chuckle, much less laugh.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

Beautiful even.

His heartbeat picks up when Derek locks eyes with him again. “You’re not very attentive.”

“Oh, really?” Now, that is just plain rude and so uncalled for. “How do you think I’m finding these demons? By paying very close attention to details. So, I am attentive. I’m actually the most at-”

Derek kisses him. No ifs. No buts. No hesitation. He just does, and his lips are so soft and warm, their touch makes Stiles’ stomach twist with anticipation. Derek moves his hands and cradles his cheeks, thumb tracing a slow, ever so gentle line along his skin. All of Derek’s hard edges are replaced by something tender and raw.

Stiles’ heart stutters in his too tight chest, and his mind blanks, every single thought swept away by the warm lips pressed to his own. He melts against Derek, pressing closer as he curls his fingers around Derek’s bicep and his eyes flutter shut. A soft, almost helpless sound escapes his throat as a warmth floods through him, followed by a kind of ache Stiles doesn’t quite have a name for. They both settle deep inside of him, spreading into every part of his body. His entire body lights up with a want he hasn’t felt in what feels like forever, a need for closeness more than just desire.

When Derek pulls back, Stiles moves with him, desperate to hold onto the kiss just a little bit longer.

Derek regards it with a soft chuckle, his warm breath ghosting over Stiles’ lips.  

The sound alone makes Stiles wants to kiss him again, but he doesn’t, clears his throat instead. No words come, which in itself is quite the curiosity, and Stiles is almost relieved at the sound of paws hitting the wood. Here to interrupt any possibility of an awkward silence. Stiles glances over his shoulder, watches as Bo enters the room and sniffs the air. It’s probably best to be upfront.

Once more, he clears his throat. “I’m not staying.” He crouches down and can’t help but smile when Bo bumps his head against his leg, demanding attention. “At least not forever. Until the house is sold, and I found the next… target, I guess.” He runs his fingers through Bo’s soft fur as he tries to ignore the way his heart aches at the thought of leaving.

For the first time in years.

Which is ridiculous. He doesn’t know Derek; not how he is as a person, that is. He only knows superficial stuff. What happened to his family, that he’s a werewolf and that he owns the only garage in town, and that he doesn’t need to crawl under cars or get car grime and oil all over himself because he’s loaded. So, he’s either doing it for fun or for the people living in this town… or both. Derek seems to be a good person, but so is Stiles, and Stiles won’t lie — he’s not only a handful, he’s also not particularly nice. Many people called him an asshole. They’re not entirely wrong.

“I’m not asking you to stay,” Derek says as he slides onto the chair at the head of the table, very clearly indicating that he’s not planning on leaving soon. “But maybe I can convince you to come back.” 

Stiles blinks up at him, scratching Bo behind his ears. “You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” Derek adds and looks down at him with a smile.

This fucking guy is going to give him a heart attack before Stiles has figured out his favorite color. Aside from that, it dawns on Stiles that he may have misjudged the guy. “So, you stalked me because you like me.”

The tips of Derek’s ears turn the slightest shade of pink. Adorable. “I never stalked you.”

Bo barks.

“He says you’re a liar.” Stiles raises to stand and pulls a chair out. “I think you followed me around, but didn’t know how to approach me.” Smirking, he sits down as Bo uses his chance to curl up under his chair.

Instead of replying, Derek opens the bag of takeout and pulls out only the best of Sally’s diner. His ears turn just a shade darker.

Stiles props his chin on his hand, not even bothering to hide the smile forming on his lips. He totally could get used to this.

[juqtier]

☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID

SPENCER REID X FEM READER

SUMMARY: when you moved in to your new apartment, you never imagined your neighbor, spencer reid, would be such a nightmare. he wasn’t your favorite guy. in fact, you hated him. unfortunately for you, you can never seem to escape him. the universe clearly has other plans for you two.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption in some chapters, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses (this is my first ever full story fanfic! so it might be bad…) this will also be 10 parts so yayyy

GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 1 : a nightmare..

✎Was it even possible to hate someone so much that even the thought of them made your blood boil?

You never thought that was even possible. You were always trying to see the best in people, even if they were rude to you. That all changed when you moved next door to Spencer Reid.

Spencer Reid

The bane of your existence.

You had moved into your first apartment alone, with the help of your parents loaning some money and your waitressing job, when you had the unpleasant experience of meeting him.

God, he was so stuck up and pretentious. Getting to know him might have been your biggest regret.

The first day you met him, he immediately gave you an attitude.

You weren’t all that familiar with this area, so you took it upon yourself to try and make friends with the neighbors.

As you walk up to the door and knock, you become excited at the potential of a new friendship.

Behind the door, you can hear a quiet, muffled voice and some shuffling before it’s opened to reveal a rather tall man looking down at you.

“Yes?” He sounded a bit annoyed, yet you continued your introduction.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor! My name is-“

“Cool, I’m really busy, and if it isn’t important, don’t bother me.” The man quickly shuts the door.

You were so puzzled and quite upset.

Who just shuts the door on someone’s face like that?

-‘๑’-

However, after some time, you forgave it. Everyone has bad days; everyone is very busy at some point. Maybe he was just overwhelmed, right?

That was until you saw him again, in the parking lot of the apartments.

You found out his name was Spencer Reid from some other neighbors. This only made you more interested in getting to know him, or at least being civil with each other.

You were getting out of your car after returning home from work when you saw him coming down the stairs to the parking lot. Trying to be friendly, you waved and smiled.

“Hello!�� Your expression was bright and kind, as always. Something Spencer never seemed to return. He visibly rolled his eyes at you, rushing to his car.

Did I do something wrong? Did I say something to offend him? Do I have something stuck in my teeth

Your thoughts ran wild, doubting every interaction you have had with anyone before. Were you just annoying? You barely had a conversation with the man; how could he find you annoying?

Maybe he just sucked?

-‘๑’-

For months, your interactions were the same. You’d attempt to be friendly, and he’d quickly (and quite rudely) shut you down. You had convinced yourself he was just a busy man until you were proven right. He just sucked.

Friday, 10:49 pm

Music played throughout your living room as you unwinded on your couch. The weekend had just begun, so you decided to finally relax. Work had been extra shitty today, and you felt you deserved a break. You sat on your couch, reading a book, as your favorite songs played when you heard a knock at the door.

Who could be knocking so late?

Placing your book down and quickly turning the music off, you rush to answer the door.

As it opened, you'd never been more confused to see Spencer Reid standing in front of you.

“Uh, hi? Is something wro-”

“Can you turn the music down?” He seemingly snaps, not even letting you finish your sentence.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have it so lo-”

“If you’re going to blare your music, you shouldn’t have such terrible taste.”

You were taken aback. You were used to the interruptions, the eye rolling, even being completely ignored. But now, he was just being plain rude.

“What? I said I’m sorry.. What’s your problem?”

You were almost about to snap at him. It took all of your power to not rip into him, calling him every name you could think of.

“My problem? My problem is that ever since you moved here, I can’t get even a moment of peace. Some people have jobs and commitments.”

What the actual fuck?

“Holy shit, Spencer. I’ve done nothing to you, but all you’ve done is be an asshole to me!”

Your anger and frustration seemed to boil over in that exact moment, not caring if you hurt his feelings anymore.

“Actu-”

“No, let me talk for once. I don’t know where you work or what you do to make you think you are so morally superior to me, but fuck. You are so fucking mean.“

He seemed shocked at the sudden outburst, as you only ever showed him your bright and bubbly side. His eyes widened slightly, not expecting the blow-up.

“You don’t get to talk down to me because you’re in a pissy mood. So leave me the fuck alone.”

With that, you slam your door in his face and quickly turn around. Your fists clench as you storm to your room and flop onto your bed, letting out a groan of frustration.

God, he was a nightmare.

-‘๑’-

PT 2

a.n : sorry if this sucks or is boring! i’ve never wrote a story like this before but i hope it’s okay!

[pedgito]

okok hear me out. eddie x reader literally despise each other, for no particular reason. reader just thinks he’s gross and weird. eddie thinks reader is stuck up and prissy. BUT one day reader walks into the dnd room on accident. eddies the only one in there, setting up for the new campaign ofc. and they just get into a really heated argument that ends up w reader bent over the dnd table w eddie pounding into her from behind.… PLS IM BEGGING I LIVE FOR A GOOD HATE FUCK

author’s note: this is all over the place i’m sorry lol, i can’t write hate fucks for the life of me but i tried.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie, mean!reader, slight perv!eddie, just a lot of harsh shit talking between eddie/reader, degrading language/shaming, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, again just straight smut and not the sweet kind, if i missed anything lmk

word count: 3.4k

Eddie Munson was the bane of your existence, that’s one thing you knew for sure. Some of it was intentional, some of it not—but he got under your skin in the worst way. It wasn’t his obnoxious volume or ridiculous acts of show, throwing himself around in a way that was meant for amusement, drawing a few laughs from his friends and even a couple strangers—but most of it wasn’t received well and definitely not by you.

The thing was, you didn’t hate him for the same reason everyone else did. He dressed differently, sure, listened to the kind of music that has you covering your eyes from the harsh percussion and scratchy, screaming voices—but that’s because it woke you in the middle of the night, your own trailer rattling from the vibrations. The smell and smoke of his weed wafting into your open bedroom window, white cloud bellowing into the humid air of your room, it was a nightly occurrence.

There was also the misfortune of having to listen to his escapades, whether daily or nightly, and having to suffer through the sounds of whoever Eddie decided to hook up with on that particular day—the walls of your trailer were entirely too thin and did nothing to muffle the sounds shrieking from your neighbors home. But, at least he had enough respect to do it while Wayne was away—because while Eddie was the most annoying part of your daily life, Wayne was one of the better ones.

He greeted you kindly, always asked how you were—meanwhile Eddie would lazily stomp along to their trash bin, shirtless and a half-smoked cigarette tucked behind his ear, staring you directly in the eye before spitting on the pavement. Wayne always reprimanded him for it, complained about how disrespectful it was, but Eddie knew it got under your skin. It’s exactly why he did it.

He snickered at your starch ironed skirts, pleats along the front and always the softest shade of pinks and blues and purples, fitting an even softer sweater over your starkly white button ups—and if he wasn’t commenting on it as you were leaving your trailer, cigarette shoved between his lips as he leaned against his van, it was in the hallways as he approached behind you swiftly, your body smacking into him amongst the hoard of people swarming the halls.

“Might want to watch where you walk, sweetheart .” He whispers, voice low and in your ear, “Get too close to the trash and you might get dirty, right?”

You shove him away haphazardly, nose scrunching up in annoyance. You couldn’t remember speaking more than five words to him at any given time, regardless of how often you saw him. It was physically painful to be in his presence, mentally exhausting, and you shoved a forceful middle finger his way as he laughed at the gesture, throwing them back as a double.

And it felt like fate was forcing you two together despite your obvious distaste for one another; running into each other during bathroom breaks from class like they were planned, both of you sharing an awkward look in return, eyes lingering on one another.

It had to be the disgust you felt, there was no reason your eyes should stay stuck that long.

Or how he always ended up behind you in line at lunch even though he rarely ate—sometimes a couple of measly snacks, a pack of almonds or a small water bottle, mostly too enveloped in his own conversation to remember that he needed to eat until it was already too late, bell signaling you back to class.

You didn’t know that because you watched him at lunch, that was the case at all. Definitely not.

But the truth was, you weren’t much different from Eddie. In fact, if you thought about, Eddie was a lot better off than you. He had a group of friends, a community he felt safe participating in, and no shame in the way he carried himself.

But you, you were terrified—never a hair out of place, never a wrinkle in your outfit, and how dare your grades dropped lower than a B. You were jealous of Eddie, but that wasn’t something you could easily admit to his face. You envied his ability to be so careless, but in that same breath, you absolutely hated him.

You’ve also involved yourself in too many school clubs at this point, overwhelming your schedule and spending most of your days frazzled trying to keep up—so by the end of the day when you’re running back to the classroom to grab your things before heading home, it’s not a surprise that you don’t realize the flooring as you skid to a stop—the room was low lit, some song you don’t recognize set for quiet ambience and you freeze, eyes connecting with the only person in the room.

“Can’t stay away, can you?” Eddie teases, head turned up slightly, vivacious grin plastered on his face.

“My mistake,” You interrupt him, turning on your heels swiftly to flee the space, a small chuckle escaping Eddie’s chest, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” He remarks, plucking the small figurines from the table and shoving them away in a box, carefully piling the other items inside, “but if you wanted to see me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

And as much as you want to keep quiet, act like he doesn’t bother you—you can’t. It’s the one last bridge he hasn’t burned, until now. The teasing has only ever gone so far, mostly harmless, but his voice is edged with a dangerous intent—not so much toward you, but it lingers.

“Excuse you?” You ask tensely, turning back around, face pinched up in anger. “See you? Why would anyone want to spend more than five minutes around you?”

“You tell me,” He shrugs, finally managing to clear the table amongst your hatred filled gaze, resting his rear against the edge, arms crossed heavily over his chest, “you’re the one still standing there.”

“I tolerate you, at the very least.” You spit at him, finger held up scrutinizingly as you took a few slow steps toward him, “your horrible manners, the decency and respect you lack for others—if it weren’t for having known Wayne I could blame it on your family for raising you that way, but no. It’s all you.”

“Careful, princess,” He replies teasingly, “words hurt.”

The nickname always drove you mad, fist clenching in frustration.

“Good.” You say forcefully, know only a few inches from him—he smelt like cheap tobacco and old leather, nostrils flaring in disgust. “Maybe you’ll think twice before watching me change from your bedroom window—“

Eddie’s eyes widen, face paling at your admission.

“Yeah,” You reply knowingly, nodding your head as a taunt, “I know all about your little secrets, Eddie.”

But instead of giving in, Eddie doubles down and fights back just as hard.

“At least I don’t have a stick shoved up my ass,” He replies, “I guess mommy doesn’t know you’re blowing guys behind your trailer late at night—does she?”

And frankly, it’s none of his business. But then again, the same thing could be applied to you. There was too much shared anger, shuffling back and forth between hate and jealousy—you weren’t sure if you actually hated Eddie, or just the idea of him.

At face value, Eddie was attractive, likable, and had the calmest demeanor you’ve ever seen—but the moment his mouth opened, it was ruined.

“It’s no different from you fucking girls with your window wide open—half the neighborhood could hear it.”

“Oh, so you listen?” Eddie asks, disregarding the obvious problem. “Naughty.” He remarks softly, smirk settling into a dark grin.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, dropping your finger down at your side. “It’s kinda hard not to, you know?”

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly.

“And what about you?” You ask, “Doesn’t that make you a creep when you’re watching me?”

“I go out for a smoke around midnight every night,” Eddie reminds you, “It’s not my problem if you’re there—I’m not changing my routine for you.”

“So, you’re okay with peeping?” You ask redundantly, but Eddie has a response anyways.

“You’re the one sucking cock in public,” Eddie reminds, “are you forgetting that’s technically illegal?”

You shrink back slightly, lips turning down in a frown as you glare at him. “No one’s out there—at least no one but—“

“You like it, don’t you?” Eddie asks, lids shifting down, eyes lingering with darkness. “You could go anywhere—a car, in the woods—but you like the idea of being watched, being caught, don’t you?”

Your silence is telling—but you didn’t have to explain yourself to him.

Eddie hums in response, nodding.

“I think you’re doing it so I’ll watch,” Eddie tells you, like he’s suddenly got you all figured out—and so what if he did, “at least I can admit I do it for fun, knowing half of those guys won’t last more than a few minutes.”

“You’re disgusting.” You reply quietly, watching as he rises slowly, stalking toward you. “And a fucking dick.”

“Oh, sweetheart—don’t go soft on me now.” Eddie chides, “Tell me how you really feel.”

There’s a beat of silence, eyes never leaving each other's gaze. Eddie speaks first.

“And don’t act like I don’t know you like listening to me,” Eddie admits, “Why do you think I get so loud?”

“Because you’re obnoxious,” You start, “and rude, and—“

“Three nights ago, Friday, you remember?” Eddie asks curiously, stalling your attack.

“Yeah?” You reply wearily, wondering where he was taking this. “I saw that girl you let inside—you fucked her, do you want a ribbon?”

“What girl?” Eddie asked before it dawns on him, “Oh shit—Chrissy, yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow inquisitively, waiting for him to finish.

“She left five minutes after she got there—in, out. It was a quick deal.” Eddie tells you, before leaning toward you menacingly, face only a few inches away, “But sweetheart, that noise? It was all me.”

The heat rises to your face in an instant, the guilt in your expression obvious.

His tongue peeks out slightly, running along the top row of teeth, “It was good, wasn’t it?”

Your gaze is fierce, refusing to give in to his game.

Eddie takes another step closer, raising his arm—for a brief moment you expect him to touch you, bracing to grip his wrist and shove him away, but it lingers, finger pointing toward the open door as he talks to you petulantly, instructing you through his next few moves.

“Now—I’m going to close that door,” Eddie explains, “do you want to leave?”

You hesitate for a brief second, before shaking your head slightly. If Eddie wasn’t watching you so intently he probably would’ve missed it.

“And, with your blessing of course, I’m going to bend you over that table and fuck you how I know you want me to,” Eddie says haughtily, tipping your chin up briefly, touch disappearing as quickly as you felt it, “then maybe you won’t have a reason to hate me so much.”

“I’m going to hate you regardless.” You answer weakly, confirming his suspicions. You couldn’t say no. You wanted this.

“Somehow I think I’ll survive.” Eddie smirks, vanishing behind you quickly, leaving you stuck at a standstill, heart pounding in your chest. “Last chance to back out, just say the word—“

“Lock it.” You tell him firmly.

Eddie snorts softly, flipping the lock closed.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate in his movements, shoving you harshly over the edge of the table, lifting your skirt up lazily, slipping the soft white cotton of your underwear down your legs without a word, the light jingling of his belt behind you as he stripped himself of it, working himself out of his jeans enough that his cock springs free, bouncing upright into the cool air.

“What’s got you so quiet?” Eddie harps, fisting his hand into the end of your hair and tugging, eyes connecting with your own—it was an awkward angle and Eddie was slightly upside down from where you were peering back, hip held tight in his grip. “I thought I’d at least have to get my dick inside you first.”

You shove away his wandering hands, fingers drifting over your entrance and pressing against your clit, thick juices coating his fingers briefly.

“I didn’t say you get to touch me like that.” You tell him sternly, “If you’re so desperate to fuck me, then do it. Stop wasting my time.”

“Your time?” Eddie repeats, “Princess, I’ll make this last an eternity with that mouth.”

“You don’t scare me, Eddie Munson.” You say to prove a point, holding in a ragged gasp as he presses inside slowly, a dull sting as he stretches you open, inch by tantalizing inch.

Eddie wraps a gentle hand around your throat, squeezing the tiniest amount of pressure. He’s testing your limits, already well aware of what you like—he may not be the brightest, but he’s not that dim. “I’m not trying to scare you.”

“Then?” A sudden thrust of his hips has you tumbling forward, hands forced out in front of you to keep from slipping. Eddie pulls you back up swiftly, back flat against his chest as he speaks, leaving you fully under his control, hands instinctively grabbing at the fabric of his shirt on either side of him.

“I’m just giving you what you want,” Eddie explains, “and letting you walk home full of me—“ He turns your head slightly, forcing you to look at him, bottom lip puffy and parted as he drags his finger along it, “you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me get this far.”

No response has Eddie tugging at your face, pulling you even straight, hand pressed firmly around your neck—mostly just to keep you in place.

“Answer me.” He warns, “Tell me how badly you want me to fill you so fuckin’ full, sweetheart.”

You moan embarrassingly loud as he pulls his hips back before shoving them against your backside harshly, skin slapping against skin, his own mouth parting on a silent groan as he stared down at you.

“If it will shut you up, yeah.” You tell him, earning a deep chuckle before you soften your eyes, peering up at him sweetly, sickeningly, “Come inside me.”

Eddie releases you with no warning, forcing you back down against the hardwood, resuming your previous position as you used the leverage to push back against him, creating a pace that was almost unbearable, feeling the soft string as he slapped his hands against your skin—your ass, your thighs, any exposed skin he could get his hands on, painting you with temporary marks for his eyes only—he’d make them more permanent if you let him, but that was far from possible.

Your blood still boiled in his presence, even with his cock buried inside of you.

You groan in frustration, agitated with the position, the lack of technique—but given you two were at each other like animals, it wasn’t entirely his fault—regardless, you weren’t going to leave without some satisfaction or at the very least, an orgasm.

“Stop, stop,” You urge him and Eddie doesn’t question it, letting you go immediately, “it’s not—“

“What—it’s not what?” Eddie asks with minor frustration, watching as you turned to him, scooting your ass up toward the edge of the table.

“As much as I hate looking at you, this might be the easiest way for me to cum,” You admit and Eddie smiles softly, the urge to retort a sly remark creeping up on him, “—what, why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie shakes his head, refusing to answer before he pulls your hips flush, slipping back inside of you with ease as he crowds you space, lips brushing your own but never daring to reach out and kiss, you let out a sudden huff of air, reaching for his forearms to stabilize yourself.

“Tell me how much you hate me.” Eddie eggs you on, grinning evilly, hands balled into fists as he pressed them against the tabletop, fucking you achingly slow.

“So much,” You assure him, not missing a beat, “you’re gross, rude,” Eddie moves his hips sharply, forcing a wrecked moan from your lips, “fuck—you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Uh huh.” He agrees, eyebrow furrowing as his stone faced expression falters slightly, “Is that all?”

“No manners,” You tell him, “and no respect for anyone.”

“Oh, you want respect?” Eddie gloated, “You want me to respect you?”

“Never said that.” You reply bluntly, his shirt in a vice grip as you yanked at the material, pulling him impossibly deeper.

He ignores you, “Now, why should I respect a whore like you?”

“I’m not a whore.” You pout slightly, “Oh, fuck—that’s—“

You slump slightly, but Eddie catches you, face tight in his grip, one hand pressed into the dip in your back.

“Say it like you mean it.” Eddie challenges.

“I’m not—“ Eddie tugs your face up, cheeks squeezed between his fingers, “not—not a whore. Or a slut. Or whatever the fuck you want to call me.”

Eddie nods, not believing a word you tell him.

“I forgot—you’re that stuck up little princess who lives next door to me. Perfect life, perfect family—if they only knew the shit you got up to.” Eddie says menacingly, “Letting the neighborhood trash fuck you raw, come inside you—god forbid I knock you up, right?”

And the idea is terrifying, but you know it’s all talk. You had nothing to worry about, birth control be damned—but it leaves a pit in your stomach that lingers. Eddie was self aware, he knew people hated him, knew you hated him—but that didn’t change his unnatural attraction toward you, nor yours for him.

“Eddie—Shut. Up.” You emphasize, pulling him tight against you, cunt clenching around him as he hits a dangerous spot inside you, sweet but alarming.

“Well, maybe you’ll think twice about walking in here again.” He replies snidely, his faltering slightly as he lessened his grip on your face, touch stalling at the side of your neck as gave in, letting the sounds of your bodies fill the silence, hearing every soft little moan he punches out of you with his movements, becoming addicted and yearning for more. His hands move without any real direction, landing sloppily over your clit as he circled it lazily, head hung back and eyes closed.

“Fuck—Fuck you.” You sigh, whimpering quietly as his movements over your clit increased, mouth falling open wide.

The slap is a surprise, soft but enough to startle you, eyes staring up at him in shock. And you hated yourself for enjoying it so much, but the knowing smile on his face is too good to be true, and your mouth is moving without filtering through your brain.

“Harder.” You counter, eyes darkening as you challenge him.

He slaps you once more, forceful, noise crackling through the air. You huff a soft laugh, causing him to laugh in response—and truthfully, you both forget how this even started in the first place. It was all just an outlet for your own shared anger and it turned into a giant mess.

“Girls don’t—they don’t usually—“ Eddie doesn’t admit it outright, breath quickening as he attempts to speak through his unskilled thrusts, groaning loudly, “—they don’t like that.”

“Now Eddie,” You tell him, voice delicate, “I’m not most girls.”

But, he already knew that. You were nothing like the girls he was used to. You were everything he wanted but couldn’t have. You were a disease, a disgrace—in his eyes, and it made him want you that much more.

The climax hits you heavy, a gasp ripping from your chest as he tips you over that peak, following suit with one hard thrust, coming deep inside you until he can’t handle the stimulation any longer, pulling out with a weak groan.

The air is thick and tense, but Eddie helps you up carefully, slipping your underwear back into your palm. You stare at the fabric, balling it up in your hands briefly before making a sudden decision, reaching for his own hand and shoving them back at him, his pants still hanging unbuttoned around his waist.

“Keep them.” You shrug, smoothing out your skirt.

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but pockets them nonetheless.

“This is never happening again, just so we’re clear.” You clarify. Eddie chuckles, not so sure. He can see the way your eyes linger on him, not fully believing yourself as you speak.

“I’m offended that you think I care that much, sweetheart.” Eddie replies back just as meanly, also lying to himself.

“Close your goddamn window from now on.”

“Not a chance.” Eddie smirks.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪||Jigsaw!Wooyoung

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Dom!Wooyoung, Sex Machine, Restraints, Toys, BDSM, Sub!Reader, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Voyeurism, Wooyoung Has Cameras In The Readers Home, Masterbating, If I Missed Anything👀….Lemme Know!

Slashtober Masterlist

The second to last to arrive was none other than Jung Wooyoung. The absolute bane of your existence. With the laugh of a hyena, and the mockery of a clown, he was the one person you couldn’t break no matter what. It didn’t matter how many times you greeted him, how nice you were to him, he was just a constant arrogant jerk. You would’ve thought he was in highschool with the way he acted. He was so obnoxious, he knew how to get under your skin and poke at you. He always greeted you with that fake smile, waving his hand wildly so you couldn’t miss him. He reminded you of that one kid in class that you just wanted to hit with a pencil box due to his constant need to piss off not only the teacher but the entire class. Living right next door to you, he went out of his way to irk you. The most irritating part about it? He knew he was hot shit. He was the one person who knew the effect he had on people. His ego was constantly inflated.

~

“Hey! Hey!” You yelled out, trying your best to get Wooyoungs attention over the loud leaf blower, it was well past 9:30 pm, why he decided to leaf blow so late? One reason, because he’s Jung Wooyoung.

With his headphones over his ears, he danced slightly as he blew the leaves, the street lights being the only form of lighting for him. Deciding you were fed up, you march right over to him. Tapping him on his back, with a slight jump he turns, cutting the leaf blower off. Throwing you his signature smile.

“Why good evening neighbor!”

“Cut the shit Wooyoung, it’s literally night time. Can’t this wait til the morning?!” You semi yell, loud enough so it would annoy him, but low enough to where it wouldn’t awaken any of your neighbors.

“Princess if you wanted to spend some time with me that’s all you had to say.” He says lowering his leaf blower, taking his headphones off, and letting them pool around his veiny neck. Making sure to smile at you through hooded eyes. Ooh he knew what he was doing. Letting a hand run over your face, you let out a groan, clearly annoyed by his antics. Jabbing his chest with your finger you cut your eyes at him..

“Spend time with you my ass. Save the leaf blowing for the a.m. Jung Wooyoung.” Taking your finger off his very firm chest you turn around, marching back to your home. With a stupid grin on his face he calls out your name, you stop half way, turning around to look at him.

“If you want me that’s all you gotta say, Princess!”

Flipping him off you angrily march into your home. Clearly annoyed at his stupid handsome face, that matches horribly with his dumb actions. You decide the best way to blow off some steam is to pull out your hand dandy rose toy. Maybe that was your problem, it had been 3 weeks since Mingi had basically thrown you on display for the neighbors to see. With Wooyoung trotting around at all hours of the night you couldn’t have that slip up, you didn’t want ammo for Wooyoung to use against you.

Throwing the toy on your bed, you make yourself comfortable against your pillows, searching on your phone for some porn to get you in the mood, yet all you can think about is Wooyoung, his eyes, the way his veins bulge from his arm, how his eyes crinkle in the corner when he laughs, how his hands have the perfect amount of bulging veins, the image of his bulging hands choking you makes you drop your phone. Oh no, no, no, you completely want to fuck your annoying neighbor. Letting out a whine you lock your phone, kicking your pants off, letting your panties pool around your ankles. You have one person and one person only on your mind right now. Letting the images run through your head, you are going to make sure you put your rose toy to perfect use. Little did you know while you were bringing yourself to complete bliss, orgasm, after orgasm, you had given your annoying neighbor a front row seat to your pleasure cruise, fueling that blood lust within him, all he wanted to do was play with you.

~

As your eyes cracked open, you tried to move your arms, the realization of not being able to, takes a minute to load into your brain. As you open your eyes further. You wince at the bright red led lights in the room. Since when did you get these lights in your home? Trying your best to move, bringing your hand up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes, suddenly you are blocked. You are not able to move even your wrist. Eyes shooting open, taking in your full surroundings. You are strapped to a cool table, your warm skin immediately warming the table up, with your wrists tied to each side of you, with your feet up on the table with your ankles being strapped down. You quickly turn your head trying to soak in what is all around you.

“Oh my god. Oh My God!” You slightly yell out, not believing where you are. The red led lights are almost blinding to you. Trying to find any way out, even suddenly a deep voice fills the room.

“Rise and shine Princess.” Voice clearly being distorted, that nickname runs a chill down your spine. Trying to shut your legs, you close your eyes so hard the corners of them crinkle.

“Where the fuck am I?” You semi yell out, trailing off at the end of your sentence due to a door opening, all you see is a pitch black hallway, you can make out a figure of someone standing there. Was this person going to watch you? You see their pearly white teeth in the dark hallway, causing a chill of fear to shoot through you, turning your head away, you try to find something else to focus on.

“You know we always enjoy the show you put on for us.” The disfigured voice says. You can hear a chipper undertone to their tone despite it being distorted.

Your eyes shoot to the figure with its teeth still on display, you can’t see their eyes but you know they are there.

“Wh-what show?” You stutter out, trying to sound as brave as possible. Just when you thought the smile on the figure's face couldn’t grow any bigger. You watch as their eyes trail to the right of your body, a white screen with static comes to, you are shocked by what you see. On four different small screens there you were. One screened showed when you were getting your spine rearranged by Mingi, another screen when you were getting fucked by God knows what in your bedroom, the other when you were getting fucked by the three masked men, and the other when you were playing with your rose toy, silently moaning Wooyoungs name. Heat rises to your neck. You are embarrassed, yet turned on. To see your face in such bliss numerous times. Remembering each way one of them fucked you, remembering the way Woos veins bulged when he was holding the leaf blower. Your eyes continue to grow wide with each movement in the videos. The figure in the hallway soaks you in, watching you feverishly. Drifting his eyes down to your pussy, he watches the way it clenches around nothing, the way your arousal beads, dripping down slowly.

“What a slut.” He mutters out, clearly amused by what he sees. Stepping back, he leaves the door open. Your eyes are still never leaving the screens. It never dawns on you that there are cameras in your home, taken back by the fact that you can see a 4k version of you getting your shit railed by various people. You try your best to shut your legs, trying to get any sense of stimulation on your neglected cunt just as you are getting fed up, the figure walks back in with his head low so you can’t make out his face, you can see bits of his face, his nose is so sharp, you can’t make out much due to the red lights distorting his face. You do catch a beautiful side profile of him. You can see streaks of makeup on him though. Making his way around the table you see his hands rise, he is blind folding you. Trying your best to shimmy out of the restraints, you want to feel whoever is above you, their hands, their hands could choke you and you’d be grateful for it. Keeping your head straight you don’t even try to put up a fight because you know you want this. You wanna see how far this person is going to take you, are they going to bring you past the tipping point like Mingi? Are they going to rough house you like the masked men?

“Such an obedient girl, princess.” Putting the blind fold over your eyes, it was lace, while it disfigured a lot of things in your view, you could still make out certain things. You could see the person above you, hovering over you. You could still see the red lights.

“Such an obedient girl, I might just reward you.” Wooyoung whispers out, voice laced with need yet you can still hear a playful hue to his tone despite it being disfigured. The thought of you being rewarded made your heart beat fast, how would you be rewarded? With the options being endless, you gulp, nodding your head to the person above you.

Stepping away Wooyoung leaves the room, you can hear his steps fade away, your nerves are eating you up. You aren’t sure if he is even going to come back. When you hear a loud boom, like he’s moving heavy equipment. You hear the wheels to something moving at a fast pace down to the room you are in. Craning your neck you try to make out what you see, all you can make out is that the figure is right by your spread legs, hooking something up in the room. Biting your lip you lay back down, trying your best to calm your nerves. While excitement and anxiety can often be mistaken for the same feeling, you know the feeling in your body is something that you need itched.

While you are lost in your mind, you feel something cool brush against your folds. The sudden intrusion makes your body jump slightly. Looking down you squint your eyes behind the blind fold trying to piece together what is sitting below your feet, he leaves the room once more, grabbing more things before he returns. Standing on the side of you, his hard cock by the side of your face he lets out a small groan looking at your body, your breast out with your nipples hardened, your glistening cunt spread open, with your mouth slightly gaping ready for whatever Woo was going to give you.

“Are you always this cock hungry?” The sudden sound of the distorted voice takes you by surprise, making your body slightly jump, you have no shame, it had been weeks since you last saw Mingi and you needed a release, the rose only could do so much.

“Y-Yes.” You whisper out, shivers riddling your body, yet the fire that ignited in your core was fully in a blaze. Letting out a chuckle, Wooyoung presses his hardened cock to the side of your face, your mouth dropping open further. He grabs the side of your face pressing his hard length into your warm cheek. When your ears hear a loud click, a loud moan leaves your throat immediately. You feel something fill your warm cunt. Clicking the remote twice more the speed picks up, the pace going steady. Grabbing your face once more he unzips his pants, pulling his hard cock out.

“Be a good girl and open your mouth.”

Removing your teeth from your lip, the thrusting of the dildo between your legs has your body slightly moving up and down on the table with each thrust. Trying your best to open your mouth as wide as you can so you can take Wooyoungs cock in your mouth. Rubbing the tip around your lips, your tongue hungrily looking for his cock, licking up as much pre cum as you can, you kiss his length before he taps the head of his cock on your tongue. Pulling back he tucks himself back in his pants. Clicking the remote once more. The machine moves faster in and out of you. It dawns on you that he’s not going to actually give you what you want. This is a reward for him, not for you. Pulling away from you, he pockets the remote to the sex machine, stepping back.

He places nipple clamps on your hard nubs, hitting another small remote, sending a small electric current to your nipples making your back arch. You let out the loudest moan yet, the sound not even daring to bounce off of the walls. Grabbing the side of your face he rubs your cheek against his hard length again. Cocking his head back, the heat of your skin, mixing with the sweet sounds you were making, had his cock throb with need. Hitting the remote once again another shock gets sent to your nipples. Your jaw dropping at the feeling. Pulling back your pussy lips, he wedges a vibrator between them, positioning it so it’s right on your clit, testing the remote he hits a button, the vibration startling you, making your legs tense at the feeling. Your mouth drops open once again, taking in this new sensation.

“God, you are such a slut truly. Always so cock hungry. If I had knew you were like this I could’ve fucked you sooner.”

Letting out a small laugh, he pushes away once more, hitting his remote so it shocks your nipples again. As he pulls back you hear the sound of his shoes exiting the room.

“Please, please!” You quickly shout, you aren’t even sure what you are asking for. Maybe it was for a harsher grip on reality? Or maybe it was for permission to cum?

“Keep begging baby, it does something to me everytime.” He groans out, continuing to exit the room. Gripping his cock harshly, right before he exits the room he speaks to you one final time.

“Scream as loud as you want, baby, no one can hear you but me.”

Making his way to his office, with various screens, one watching all the various rooms in your home, the other with views to all the others neighbors homes, and then biggest screen of all the one with your naked body on it, while the sex machine fucks a dildo in and out of you. Hitting the remote the clamps shock your nipples again, your body jolting at the feeling once more. Letting out a loud moan you clench your fists. He teeters you on the edge of an orgasm each time, just as he gets any sign that you are going to cum he cuts it, or changes the pace.

Your body is riddled with sweat, and arousal drips down your ass, the sex machine continuously thrusts a dildo in and out of you, a squelching noise fills your ears each time. Clenching your toes, you feel the vibration of the vibrator between your legs with the timed shocks to your nipples. Your body feels a billion things at once. Just as you think you are about to cum he stops everything all together, giving your body a couple minutes to cool down before he starts having the equipment pick up pace once more.

Taking his cock out of his pants, he spits on his hand, wrapping his hand tightly around his hard cock, giving it two quick pumps, letting out a small moan of his own, he tries to match the pace of the sex machine that’s thrusting in and out of you. He can see your slick covering the piece of rubber, taking him to an even higher feeling he pauses his hand. Not trying to blow his load already, he can hear the sounds of your moaning dancing in his ears. It fills a void in him that he never knew he needed, ever since he moved in you had always been a brat to him so to see you so submissive and so willingly giving yourself to him it sparked the match in him.

Deciding enough was enough, he wanted to reach an orgasm just as bad as you did, constantly bringing himself to the edge just to stop and halt the activities, he cuts on everything at once, at high speed. The sex machine fucking you at a inhumane pace, turning the shock levels up on the nipple clamps, and cutting the vibrator on a high pulse pattern he cuts the microphone on so you can hear him jacking off to you. Biting his lip he lets out a small groan which you completely miss due to your loud screaming. Tears are soaking the lace blindfold, your mouth constantly in an O formation, while your throat feels so dry from all the moaning you’ve been doing.

His hand tightly wrapped around his spit soaked cock, he cuts the microphone back on, you can hear the sounds of him stroking himself once more. A tingling sensation spreads out through your body, whoever this was, was enjoying himself just as much as you had been.

“You can count how many restraints are holding down your body. Every time you cum, that’ll be one restraint I remove from your body.”

Letting out a loud moan, you bite your lip trying your best to focus on an orgasm before he slows down the machine once more, sending a slight shock to your nipples. Your body is dripping with sweat now, the cool room is now heated.

“Ho-How am I su-supposed to cum, wh-when you keep teasing m-me.” You huff out.

Letting a sadistic smile grace his face, you can still hear the wet noises of him pumping his cock.

“We are playing my game, princess.”

Your legs shook, as they are held up and open, you couldn’t help but let out a loud groan, toes continuously curling. The warm air in the room hitting your warm dripping cunt, as the sex machine slid the dildo rapidly in and out of you. The leg restraints from the table made it impossible to close your legs. As your body writhed in pleasure, Wooyoung sat behind the large screen watching you be denied of an orgasm over and over again. The sheer look of pleasure and desperation coursing through your body was enough to bring him to his own pleasure.

~

You blink yourself awake, in your own bed. Looking around your…. bedroom? Sitting up slowly, you blink the sleep out of your eyes. Was it all a dream? Were you truly losing your mind? Gathering yourself you slowly rise out of bed, wincing at the aching between your legs, your limbs feel so sore. Rolling your shoulder out, you make your way to the bathroom, getting a good look at yourself in the mirror. Cutting the sink on you splash some water in your face trying to gather your thoughts, trying to gather yourself. You bend down to splash more water when you see a piece of paper taped to the wall behind you. Turning around quickly you peek your head out of the bathroom, trying to see if someone besides you was there.

Quickly snatching the paper down, you open the inside of it, written in red ink you read out loud…

“How about we play another game soon?”

Tossing the paper on the floor, you quickly look around your home, trying to find if there is any sign of anyone else here. As you walk in a disarray of panic, trying to find who or what put that paper in your home. Wooyoung watches you with a huge smile on his face. Your state of panic makes him giggle. Cutting the screen to different angles of you in your own home freaking out, he walks out of the room grabbing his leaf blower, making his way towards his lawn. You are still running around filled with worry. As you hear the annoying sound of Wooyoungs leaf blower. Quickly making a beeline for outside. Bare foot, completely in your pajamas you run straight into Wooyoung, catching him “off guard” cutting his leaf blower off, his eyes take in your frightened state you are out of breath trying to explain to Wooyoung what happened in your home.

“And, and this paper Woo! It came out of nowhere! I swear Woo you gotta believe me, it wasn’t there when I walked into the bathroom. Please, please believe me.”

The sound of you begging makes his body do a slight shiver, biting his lip and nodding his head listening closely to you. Putting his hands on your shoulders, you feel your body heat up, his hands on your body feels so familiar, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

“How about I go see this paper and scope out your home to see if anyone is in there. Does that sound okay?”

As he finishes his sentence out of his peripheral vision he sees the window to your bedroom slide open, he knows it’s Hongjoong making his way out of your home with the paper. Nodding your head just as you are about to turn around,Wooyoung grabs you back trying to buy Hongjoong more time to make his way down from your window. Shrugging off his long sleeve button up he pulls it over your shoulders. Pulling it tightly around you.

“You are out here in your pajamas, no socks, and no shoes, despite our Tom and Jerry feud I don’t want you to get cold.

Just then it dawns on you that you are in your pajamas, the cool breeze nips at your skin. Pulling his long sleeve closer you nod, smiling at him, you both turn around and make your way towards your home. Letting you walk in first, Wooyoung insists on wiping his feet saying he will be with you in a second.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Wooyoungs whisper yells at Hongjoong.

“Oh fuck off, like you could’ve did any better.” He whispers harshly to Woo. Rolling his eyes, he and Hongjoong start to bicker, when your voice calls out to Wooyoung, he can hear your footsteps coming close to him.

“S-Sorry! These pesky bugs! Didn’t want any coming into your home.” Wooyoung says loudly, loud enough so Hongjoong can hear, letting out an annoyed huff. Hongjoong begins to make his way back to his home.

Walking behind you, before Wooyoung closes the door, he flips off Hongjoong.

“Alright Princess, where do you want me to look first?” His deep voice rings out, a smile sketched on his face. Your body shivers at the way he calls you princess, like you’ve heard it before.

Taglist: @araknoid @atinytinaa @k-hotchoisan @darkdayelixer @abby-grace @aurorasjoongie @tunaasan @jkookiejiminlvr @luckyblue98 @notevenheretbh1 @moonlightsora @raindropsondragons @park-simphwa @ro-written @hwajoongsang @certifiedmoa @pearltinyy @minniebinnie @solarstoy @frobin4ever @gvnwks @ethelia @jin-neck-shaft @nitarolls @jenthehobbityelf @gg-trini @tearfulsparks78 @10nantscompanion @moonm1st @oreoqueen @leehopehocarat @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @acetruepunk @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @tenpesos @mixling-blog @sammylvr @helsnik @mrspettersen @mixtape-racha @realviviboss @mikaelless @queenoftrash97 @boomfrogg

Divider and Gif @justaaveragereader

DO NOT REPOST.

[andorology]

Sanguinity a rebelcaptain regency au

The world, as Jyn Erso knows it, is suddenly changing to her disadvantage.

Knowing that she could soon lose the fortune secured to her name and the freedom promised by her maidenhood, she is now forced to marry if she ever hopes to stand a chance. And when Cassian Andor moves into her neighborhood as the new owner of a portion of her family’s estate, she is even more provoked by his biting animosity.

Jyn is determined to never forgive Cassian. But Cassian will soon prove, time and time again, that he is, after all, worthy of her reprieve.

Read the first chapter of Sanguinity below the cut, or check it out on ao3! Rating T.

Jyn Erso was, by every definition, a fortunate woman. Through some extremely divine (but otherwise discriminate) luck, she was, on the first spring day of 1793, born into instant prosperity. Fathered by Mr. Galen Erso, who owned a considerable portion of land within Endor Village, and sired by Mrs. Lyra Erso, whose connections from having been the firstborn into an earldom, had elevated the family to a kind of reverence, even by those more powerful of their peers like the Baron Orson Krennic.

But what material and social fortune her parents had been blessed with in bounty, they did not lack in virtue. Much of the respect they had gained, while creditable to their position within society, was also, in large, due to their character, with Mr. Erso often deemed gentle, yet strong, and Mrs. Erso tenacious in spirit, sharp in wit.

There was a cosmic rarity in such favorable circumstances of birth, that it had, in consequence, produced the equally rare phenomenon of Jyn’s upbringing. With the comfort of her wealth and connections, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Erso’s rather liberal approach to parenting, Jyn grew up having gained knowledge, having thought up ideas, and having pursued endeavors well beyond those expected of her sex, and with little to no opposition from anybody who had power to give it.

By the encouragement of her patrons, Jyn learned of arts, sciences, and literature, using knowledge she’d gained from reading to perceive a view of the world past her home, Vallt Park. All this education had elevated her intellect to superiority, which, depending on who was asked, was either her boon or her bane.

The matter of Jyn’s upbringing had been for some time a subject of contentious debate among those who lived in Endor Village. A position of support, and even the admiration of its effects on Jyn, was taken up by the Ersos’ long-time family friend and neighbor, Mr. Bodhi Rook, and Mr. Chirrut Imwe and Mr. Baze Malbus, the seminaries of the nearby Jedha Boarding School.

There were, on the other hand, the likes of Sir Krennic, who viewed the situation with a total disinclination—though a furtive one at that, for with the preservation of his baronetcy in mind, he aimed to maintain an amicable relationship with a family of such social status. This did not deprive him, however, of the private belief that such upbringing was the very reason why Miss Erso had still taken no one’s hand in marriage at the “too ripe age of six-and-twenty”. 

This belief, however, was something his son, Mr. Philip Krennic, did not share with him. His heir absolutely saw no fault in the young maiden.

As for Jyn herself, she saw her own lack of a matrimonial half as certainly caused by the same reason, except, perhaps, with the distinction that she did not view it with any regret. No, Jyn did not want to be married, if it at all meant she would have to forever withdraw the freedom that had allowed her her education and enlightenment. In service of this pursuit, she had been able to put off her so-called prospects with a seven year streak of success, roughly the same amount of time that had passed since she had come out to society.

The plan was foolproof: she would go on rejecting every suitor and proposal until she finally crossed the threshold of being unwanted in the eyes of men. Perhaps this was the only advantage of the opposite sex’s mileage for desirability being so within a short age span; at twenty-six, Jyn did not have to wait long anymore until her social capital had expired. 

She understood, of course, what the consequences of being a maiden would be to women like her once they turned old. But she held firm in the belief that it was, by miles, a much better predicament to find herself in, than to become someone’s wife, to become the mistress to the affairs of his house, and to become the mother to his children. 

Besides, yet one of the many more fortunes of Jyn’s circumstances was that she had a fortune—a rather large one at that—secured for her by her father in a settlement, despite her not being a male heir. The amount, she had been told, would be enough to sustain not only a comfortable living, but even the pleasure of her endeavors.

What reason, what sense, would ever compel her to marry now? 

There was no doubt to anyone then, that Jyn Erso was, indeed, a fortunate woman. But while one may regard her luck as her greatest asset, it would soon prove to be, in its absence, the source of a great tribulation.

Much of the success of her plan depended on wealth being secured in her possession, and yet, with this morning’s news, all of it was about to slip her grasp.

“We are losing money.”

The words rang stale through the crisp morning air. Jyn looked up from her plate to direct her gaze towards her father at the head of the table, hoping that he’d either misspoken, or that she’d misheard. 

“What did you say, Papa?” she asked. 

Mr. Erso rested his elbows by the edge of the table, then loosely laced his hands together. A lock of grays broke away from his head of hair down to his forehead, which wrinkled down to a frown. “We are losing money,” he repeated grimly.

Jyn set down her knife and fork quietly onto the mat. She still was not convinced. “What happened?”  

Mrs. Erso, who sat across from Jyn, reached out a hand towards her husband’s arm and gripped it lightly. Mr. Erso placed his hand over hers to return the affection.

“Our farms,” he explained, “have not produced the same quality and amount of crop for the last two years.”

Jyn momentarily paused to reflect. “Do we know why?” 

“It is a problem we are yet to identify.”

“Well then, we must figure it out, do we not?”

“We will,” Mr. Erso replied, “but we are going to need money to be able to do that, and then some more to improve the farms, the moment we discover the issue.” 

Jyn had heard stories about estates losing their money all the time, and knew, to some degree, what was usually done to remedy such situations. “Does this mean we are to retrench?” she asked.

Mr. Erso shook his head. “We could do it, but it would unfortunately not be enough,” he answered. “There is already not much we can cut back on.”

“Then what do you plan to do? What are we to do?” 

“There are other options, which we have carefully considered.”

“Yes?”

“We think there is one thing in particular that could be done.”

“What is it?”

Mr. Erso took a deep breath to gather his wits. “We need to sell Lah’mu.”

Shock surfaced to Jyn’s fresh countenance. “Sell Lah’mu?”

In the same stories she’d heard, resorting to selling one’s property, or in this case, a considerable portion of their estate, was an indication of serious financial loss. And though this alone was good enough reason to alarm her, yet another stoked it much greater:

Jyn was beginning to understand that she did not know quite yet the extent of their current predicament, and she was terrified of what she would find out when she finally did. 

“Has our situation become so severe?” she asked.

Mr. Erso sighed, heavy and deep. “Unfortunately so. I had hoped that the issue would be a momentary lapse, but we have already given out more than we’re taking in with maintaining the farms. This has gone on longer than I’d hoped, and now I’m afraid we have no other choice.”

“But is there not something else we can do?” Jyn offered, then spent a moment to think. “Perhaps we could just lease it instead of selling it, or we could—”

“Jyn,” Mrs. Erso interjected, each word ripe with care but also a firmness, “we have considered all the options. Upon long and arduous thought, and with the counsel of Mr. Longhorn, we have decided that this is the best course of action we can take.”

“But Lah’mu Hall, Mama,” Jyn contended, hoping that invoking her childhood home's name alone would be enough to deter the decision. 

“We are going to lose it, yes,” Mrs. Erso answered with sympathy, “but with the money, we may be able to save our farms. You would support that, would you not?”

Jyn somehow felt slighted by all this; it would seem that her parents, in opening up this conversation, did not enter it with the intent to seek her advice; they were merely telling her what had already been decided. The only approbation she could give now was limited to the manner in which she could give it; she could only take the fact either with grace, or without.

Mr. Erso, observing her daughter’s quiet objections, spoke, “I understand, dearest, that the house means a lot to you—it means a lot to your mother and I, and I regret to part with it, but she is right. Please understand.”

For a few seconds the party sat silent. Jyn searched her parents’ faces in dreadful reflection. Lah’mu Hall, the place where her grandparents had lived, where her early life had taken fruit. All of it, gone! It was a most unfortunate loss, one she had imagined would severely injure the family in ways other than financial. And all the worse, it seemed like she could not do anything about it.

Yet for all the regret that currently took her heart, she felt her tensing gaze soften as she took sight of her parents, their expressions taking upon a somber quality, one graver than she had been privy to witness in the past. She came to the sensible conclusion that they would never really, if given the choice, agree to such an arrangement unless a direness of situation called for it. 

Upon thinking this, Jyn began to view the decision differently, with the warmth of someone who strongly did not approve, could be as capable of giving.

“Of course, Papa,” Jyn finally acceded. “I understand.”

Her father nodded in relief. “Thank you, Jyn.”

“At the very least,” she offered, “I am confident in Mr. Donwell’s being a fit landowner and master of the house.”

Mr. Erso raised a brow. “Mr. Donwell?”

The confused looks Jyn’s parents gave her confounded her in return. Warily she said, “Has he not shown consistent interest in the property for the past few months? I assume you are to sell the land to him.”

Mr. Erso shook his head. “Oh, not quite. We had initially considered him, yes, but it would turn out that his offer was hardly sufficient to the amount we are selling it for.”

“So who is to buy it? Sir Krennic? Mr. Rook?”

Mr. Erso shared a look with his wife before answering, “Well, after some inquiries, we have found someone.”

Jyn leaned forward in anticipation. “Who?”

“A Mr. Cassian Andor,” answered her father.

Jyn’s brows furrowed together. The provision of a name hardly gave clarity to her bewilderment. In fact, it seemed to inflame in her a new state of disbelief; she felt a rising vexation at the idea of a stranger owning the house that had been so dear to her. 

Again she said, “Who?”

“He is a solicitor from Fest,” replied Mr. Erso. “He worked with Mr. Rook once to settle a matter with regards to his horses.” 

On a regular occasion, any person's good association to Jyn’s friend Bodhi should be a reliable commendation of their character, but it was altogether still inadequate in alleviating her doubts of him. She could not so easily approve of him, especially when she considered him in the capacity of taking Lah’mu from her family, and of being her very close neighbor, if he proved to be dislikable.

She found herself giving his character what was perhaps undue judgment. 

“A solicitor,” she said, unimpressed. 

“I admit,” Mr. Erso said, “it baffled me at first that a man of such occupation could even afford such a purchase, but tides have also begun to change in recent years. Even men who work can make enough money these days. He has offered a large sum, more than enough for what we are hoping to do for the farms, and with some to spare for the matters of this house.”

So he was rich, Jyn thought. It didn’t faze her regard for him in the slightest. A man could have all the wealth of the world, but it did not signify his worth for anything.

So she asked, “And what of him? What of his character? Does he have the disposition required to be a master of Lah’mu?” 

Mr. Erso seemed slightly taken aback by her rapid inquiries. “Mr. Rook vouched for his abilities, and it was actually upon this good recommendation that we felt confident in pursuing the trade with him. And from what I have ascertained of him from our discussions so far in the previous month, he is of agreeable character. He asks the right questions, and entertains all of mine with care. He is steady but clever in his approach to negotiation. I can see why he is prosperous in his occupation. He said he has been in practice for twelve years.”

Jyn raised a brow. She doubted a man who possessed the skill of influence and persuasion—and made an entire living out of it—revealed anything about his virtue. If anything, it might reveal the lack of it, as those who did not have anything worthwhile to say, she knew from experience, would instead rely on an elegant turn of phrase.

She was about to ask further, but Mr. Erso reached out a hand to hold hers, which she did not realize until now, had been fraying at the seams of a doily. “Jyn. You need not worry yourself with him. You will meet him soon, and I have faith you will like him.” 

Jyn finally relented, though not without the effort to make her disapprobation known. As to the claim made, it was something she had yet to see for herself. And so began her anticipation for the newcomer’s arrival, a feeling characteristic of both caution and genuine curiosity. 

“When will he settle in the house?” she asked.

“We are hoping within the month, if we are quick."

The silence that followed seemed to finally signify the end of the conversation. Jyn was about ready to remove herself from the table, maybe even take the rest of the morning to muse on these new developments, when suddenly, in a grave tone that unnerved her, Mr. Erso said:

“Jyn. We have another issue we would like to discuss with you.”

All of Jyn’s breakfast seemed to instantly gather to a point just above her stomach. “What is it?”

Mr. Erso sighed. “Look, I’m not getting any younger,” he began, “and my lungs are growing weaker by the year. Though it is unfortunate, we do not know how long I have left.”

Incredulous, Jyn let out a sharp, dry chuckle. “That is ridiculous, Papa. You have many years ahead of you.”

“Yet we must think about it now,” he replied, unaffected, matter-of-factly. “In the event of my passing, I had fought to break the entail over my properties. If you would remember, I had ensured that while your distant cousin would inherit the estate, all my money would be yours to take.”

That was when the seed of suspicion had begun to grow on Jyn’s mind. Warily she responded, “Yes, I remember.”

“But,” Mr. Erso proceeded carefully, “as we have suffered significant loss, and should something occur to me now, what you will be left with may no longer be enough to sustain you.”

From that point on, Mrs. Erso took over the conversation, which seemed to now affirm Jyn’s supposition. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. 

“Jyn, dearest,” said her mother, “we know that you do not really seek to be married, and we have generally supported it because we understood that you would be secure regardless. But given our new circumstances, we might have to rethink things.” 

Jyn usually reveled in discovering her conjectures to be correct. Yet now, she found no such cause of celebration. “You are not saying what I think you are saying.” 

Mrs. Erso’s look was dead serious. “I am. Perhaps it is time, Jyn.” 

Jyn shook her head eagerly. “No, mother. No.”

“Dearest,” insisted Mrs. Erso, “it is the only way we can secure a livable future for you.”

Jyn rose from her seat. In a tone that grew more desperate she said, “I will not get married. I will not do it.”

“Jyn, please—”

“What if I can settle with what I am to receive? I do not mind receiving less. I can still not get married, don’t I?” 

“You do not understand, Jyn. You may be left with practically nothing, if it comes down to it. It will not matter anymore if you have your freedom; you might not have enough to even support your primary comforts.” 

Jyn could feel the corners of the breakfast room close in on her in rapid speed, perfectly in sync with her lungs that seemed to constrict, making her every breath shallower and shallower. 

“This—” she buried her face in her hands “ —this is too much to take in, Mama. First losing Lah’mu, now this. No, this is too much.” 

“I know,” said her mother with such gentleness that almost made Jyn believe her entire world was not currently spinning on its axis. Finally at her wits end, she stood and hurried to an open window. Outside, the fields of Vallt Park laid like a soft green cloth that had fallen upon the land, the gentle slopes of its hills like the folds of its fabric. To every sense in her body, the scenery should have been beautiful, but Jyn could only find it so unpleasant to look at.

There she stood for quite a while in silence, feeling herself caught in the moment just before the tidal wave, as though the earth beneath her was bracing itself, creating the momentum that would eventually pull the ocean in. 

Mr. Erso felt his mouth open in an attempt to offer some consolation, but no such words, at least anything that he thought would be enough for his daughter, came out. His wife, however, knew exactly what to say. She stood from her seat and walked towards Jyn. 

“Jyn.” She placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Up close, Jyn beheld her mother’s face, observing the features that looked almost exactly like hers. She wondered if she would look just the same when she would grow to her age. 

She took both of Jyn’s hands into her own. “Jyn, I feel your anguish. Things are suddenly on the verge of change, and I can only imagine what you must be going through at this moment.”

Jyn was already turning away, ready to resist the persuasions of the incoming oration, but Mrs. Erso lightly shook her by her hand as if to tether her back. “But sometimes,” she said firmly, “we have to do what we must. We must sell Lah’mu. We must find means to survive. For you, that means marrying.”

“Mama,” Jyn pleaded, “you of all people know my feelings on the matter.”

“I do,” reassured Mrs. Erso.

“So you know that I have no desire whatsoever to marry anybody.”

“I know.”

“And, on the chance that I did, well, I had always thought that it would at least be because of love.”

Her mother nodded. “I know.”

“There is something I fundamentally seek in the ordeal of matrimony, Mama, the feeling that it is worth it, the feeling that I entered it because I wholeheartedly wanted to.” Jyn tightened her grip on her mother’s hands. “I am not feeling any of those things right now.” 

Mrs. Erso tucked a lock of hair behind Jyn’s ear. Softly she replied, “But Jyn, you say that you want freedom, too, do you not? To study, to explore — as you have the right to. To not be married affords you this, yes, but you may find it in marriage, too.”

“How?” 

“Once your children are grown, you may have more time to yourself to pursue these things.” 

Jyn suddenly pondered upon the fact of her being the only child of the family, and wondered if her birth and her childhood, for a time, had deprived her mother of the time she would’ve preferred to spend elsewhere. She met her mother’s eyes. “Mama, is this why you and father did not have any more children after me?” 

“Oh, no,” quickly supplied her mother, fully absorbing Jyn’s meaning, “I have not, for once, regretted having brought you into life, remember that.” She then chuckled lightheartedly. “No, we did not have any more children because, well, imagine if we put one more of you onto this earth. I do not think it would be able to handle it. You have already stirred this town alone.”

“I hope you mean that as a compliment.”

Mrs. Erso nodded. “I do. You are a force to be reckoned with, Jyn. You have time and time again proven that. You are smart, and you are clever.”

“Yet I’ll have nothing to show for it now, apparently.” 

“Look, I do not deny that some women in certain marriages are unhappy. But for you, you still have the option to turn this around to your advantage. It is just a matter of finding the right partner.”

Jyn frowned. “And who would that even be? I have practically injured every man in this town with my rejections to have any of them view me as a prospect again.”

Mrs. Erso pursed her lips in thought, but Jyn could tell that she had already given it much thought for quite some time now. “Well, you and Philip have known each other for a while. Though he does not say it, I think we all know of his interest in you.”

Jyn could not help but laugh dryly. “Philip, the son of Sir Krennic?”

“Come on, now. It gives him credit, as he is the eldest and therefore heir of his estate. And he is agreeable, is he not? You always engage in conversation during assemblies, and he often calls on us to see you.” 

“As a moderately warm friend,” Jyn supplied. Her mouth hung open, the right words not coming right to her. “I—I suppose Philip is agreeable, yes, but I have never viewed our friendship in such a way. You really do not expect me to marry him.” 

“But you have at least agreed to his being agreeable. These sentiments do not have to change or become more than what they are. Your amiability is more than sufficient reason to enter into a marriage with him. In fact, it is even more than what most marriages could ask for.” 

Jyn grimaced.

“I do implore you, dear,” her mother added in lieu of her silence. “If you get to know him better, you might even warm up to it.” 

“Mama,” Jyn finally said, “I know that you are giving me sound reasons to go through with marriage, but I cannot pretend that these have any power over my mortification. It does not change how I feel.”

“I know it does not. I do not expect it to.” Mrs. Erso cupped Jyn’s face in both her hands, held her close, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Quietly she said, “But remember, Jyn, there are worse fates than being married off well.”

To this, Jyn could no longer find any protestation. She could feel reluctant (if not at all opposed) as much as wanted, but she was beginning to understand that perhaps there was nothing more she could do but to accept her fate, just as much as her mother could not do anything now, but persuade her to it.

Helplessly, she watched the wick of her fantasies slowly burn out to the long overdue solicitation of the purpose, which women like her seemed to be born into, and which she could no longer, by any justification, postpone.

The reputation of Jyn Erso’s enduring luck, since this moment, had already begun to tarnish.

On a lighter note Mrs. Erso said, “The Rook ball is in a fortnight. You can use that as an opportunity to get to know Philip better.”

The thing was, Jyn was not at all opposed to the merriments of a party — dancing, in particular, was her favorite. If her bodily energy could not at all deplete, she would go up to four dances a night, if she pleased. But now, the sound of attending her good friend Bodhi’s ball with the purpose of baring herself out to a marriage prospect, had soured the possible joys it might bring—especially since she was in part, an architect of the party at his behest.

In such a brief moment in time, Jyn's world suddenly changed. Terrified, she looked to her mother. For a moment, they shared a look, and Jyn knew then, that an understanding had just passed between them.

Stiffly, she nodded. "I cannot wait."

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Non-Traditional Omegaverse Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

💜 War Of Hearts by BoosBabycakes / @boosbabycakes28 {E, 80k}

They are the bane of each other's existence, they never pass off an opportunity to remind the other of how annoying they are. Who would have thought that polar opposites could compliment each other so well?

A story about two boys, one looking for patience and trying to be strong enough to stand up for himself, and one struggling with self-discovery and strength, where facts, reality and becomings hit him in the face, and suddenly, everything that's ever been important to him is in play.

💜 What I Have With You (I don't want with anyone else) by @lululawrence {NR, 73k}

Louis smiled. “I’m sorry for how I ran away last night.”

“It’s totally fine. I’m sorry I did all that. I never asked if you were okay with it, and I really should have.”

Louis didn’t know how to respond to that. “I mean, I wasn’t really telling you no before that. How were you to know I’d be fine and then… not.”

“Well, if I had asked you first like I should have, then I would have known your boundaries.”

“How can you know my boundaries when even I don’t?” Louis scoffed. “Shit.”

Louis hadn’t meant to say that much to Harry. It’s not like he was embarrassed by who he was, but he still didn’t really talk about it openly either.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Louis shook his head and kept his eyes trained on Harry’s chest. The shirt was old enough he could see the ghost of Harry’s tattoos through it.

“It’s a long and complicated story that is also very boring, so I don’t think you actually want the answer.”

Or Louis is an asexual alpha, Harry is his aromantic alpha friend and possible roommate, and faking a relationship might be exactly what they need to get their families and friends off their backs.

💜 Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

💜 Take Me Down Slow (Don't Let Me Go) by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 26k}

Louis has always felt different. Not necessarily on the outer realm of societal norms, but pretty damn close to the edge. As an Omega, he’s supposed to want certain things; to want to raise a family, to want to build a life with a partner, and to want that partner to be an Alpha.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad.

OR the one where Louis wants to find the right kind of partner to love, Niall hates snowboarding, Liam wants to settle down, Harry is really good with his hands, and mother nature could be the thing that changes everything.

💜 Iron Hearts, Fire Souls by hopelesswriter / @getmesometacos {E, 26k}

"Lou..."

“I know, Harry! I know what you’ll say, we can’t right? We can’t help each other’s needs? We can’t be what the other needs? But fuck, what about what we want?! And I say we because you’ve been saying yes to all of our dates and you've been flirting back all this time and-“ He took a deep breath. “And there is nothing that I want more right now than to kiss you.”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are two single and unmated Lawyer Alphas that have to share an office and even though they shouldn't be that attracted to each other's scents, it sure isn't a big deal, right? I mean, what could go wrong?

💜 No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) by @allwaswell16 {E, 17k}

There’s never been anyone for Harry but Louis. He had always thought their love would last forever, despite society’s pressures on an alpha/alpha relationship. When Louis breaks up with him and moves to Chicago, he’s suddenly left behind to pick up the pieces of the life they once shared. Instead of moving on, he finds reasons to keep Louis in his life and in the process begins to piece together what went wrong.

Or an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

💜 I'll Call You Mine by @kenniewen {T, 13k}

"Harry isn’t superstitious, doesn’t knock on wood, or wish on shooting stars, but his position on ‘love at first sight’ becomes increasingly wishy-washy as his mind begins to comprehend blue, blue, blue. He feels his heart constrict and tongue go dry. The man before him is the most beautiful omega he has ever seen in his entire life."

Or: A self indulgent Omega/Omega fic with a teacher/single parent of favorite student trope.

💜 Woke Up Feeling Knotty by @jaerie {E, 7k}

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

💜 All at once, this is enough by @lunarheslwt {G, 7k}

“Could you help me…to make a nest?” His question was whisper soft, not daring to look at Louis’ face as he asked. For a few seconds, nothing but silence ensued. And then- “You want me to help you make your nest?” Harry’s blush deepened as he meekly affirmed, “yes.” The lack of response straightaway from Louis, and the way he had questioned the request, had Harry’s stomach churning uneasily. Why did he ask that? You don’t ask your friends to build you nests, what the fuck Harry. Louis must think him to be such a twit- “I’ll help.”

Or, Harry, overcome with burn out, wants to nest but he has never nested before, doesn’t know how to. Louis, his best friend, is only happy to help him make a nest and be there for him. Along the way, they find something more.

💜 Milk & Honey by @kingsofeverything {E, 7k}

Breastfeeding twins is no easy task, so Harry joins the local M.O.M.M. (Male Omegas Make Milk) support group.

💜 Where I'm Meant To Be by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton {E, 6k}

Harry and Louis have been sleeping together casually for a while. As two Alphas they never wanted to define it as anything more.

When Louis helps Harry out with his rut so he can get it done in time for his exam, they're forced to face feelings they were habouring for a while.

💜 Sweet Dreams That Leave All Worries Behind You by @tommokat {T, 5k}

Harry’s getting his in ears secured and watching while Zayn and Louis mess with Liam’s microphone when the idea hits him. He slept perfectly last night; there was no chance for feelings of loneliness to creep in while he was wrapped up in Louis’ arms and scent and sheets. Which means if he can continue to—yes, this is perfect. Harry grins to himself and starts on his plan for tonight.

💜 Chew You Up Like Candy by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {E, 4k}

As it turns out, the internet can also be used to find people that like the same things as you. However unusual they may be. Or in Harry’s case, the things he thinks he might want to try.

Which is how Harry has now found himself laying on his back, fully naked, and strapped down to a bench. With an intimidating looking fucking machine positioned right between his spread legs.

And completely at the mercy of the prettiest Alpha Harry’s ever seen.

So really, this is all the internet’s fault.

(Or the one where Alpha Harry falls down a Reddit hole, that leads him to discover a few new kinks he never knew he had. It also leads him to Louis, an Alpha unlike any other Harry’s ever met. Louis’ more than happy to help Harry explore his new interests).

💜 And I Want More by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes {E, 3k}

Hearing Harry talk about knotting dildos makes Louis’ cock twitch. And fuck did it get hotter in here? Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand he pulls Harry’s drawer to retrieve said dildo. It’s pink and glittery and honestly, Louis would expect nothing less from his best friend. A dazed smile forms on Harry’s face as soon as he wraps his fingers around it.

“Alright well, I should leave you to it. I’ll hang around on campus until your heat passes,” Louis informs Harry.

Harry’s eyes are open now, but they’re not looking at Louis, instead, they’re focused somewhere further south. He follows his gaze and immediately blushes when he notices what has caught his best friend’s attention. Louis’ erection is tenting in his sweatpants, a wet spot of precome darkening the fabric of his pants.

“Oh fuck.” It’s all making more sense now. All the heat he’s been feeling, the sweat. Louis is going through heat too.

💜 when we're finished saying nothing by @disgruntledkittenface {M, 3k}

Louis has barely woken up when she realizes that Harry is still mad from the night before. The silent treatment that Harry prefers when she’s like this isn’t going to achieve anything, so Louis gets up to apologize only to find out there’s more going on with her mate than she thought. That’s when her instincts take over.

An alpha/alpha AU inspired by Written All Over Your Face.

💜 dark rings of white noise by unwept / @peachade {M, 3k}

A culmination of emotions rise in him, he is a solar flare bubbling with indignation and shame and desire, three heavy emotions clashing together, threatening to explode in him and make a mess of his insides, ruin him and call the aftermath as art when he is more aftermath than art.

💜 Change of Plans by @haztobegood {G, 2k}

Harry and Louis plan to visit their families over Christmas. Sometimes, plans don't work out.

💜 When you're good to mama (he surprises you) by @sadaveniren {E, 2k}

“I hate your dick,” Harry sniffed.

“I know, baby.”

“Fucking magic beta dicks. Should have mated a damn alpha.”

aka Harry's pregnant with his sixth kid

💜 we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 {E, 2k}

“What, you think I'll just roll over for you now?”

The smirk on Louis’ face was almost devilish. “Yes,” He breathed against Harry’s lips, cocky and sure, like it was a fact of life.

It sent all kinds of shivers through Harry. God, but he wanted to. Wanted Louis to have him right against this wall, let everyone see how he fell apart under him.

But not tonight.

Harry fixed his posture, standing up straighter and trying to get himself under control. “I don't think so, omega.”

Or: Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

💜 Hanging Around by @homosociallyyours {G, 1k}

As a gay alpha loving alpha, Harry spent a lot of his life expecting to be single forever. Meeting Louis changed that, and after moving in together Harry realizes that he has the urge to nest. It's not a typical thing for an alpha to do, but Harry has never thought of himself as typical. Then again, neither is Louis.

💜 I got me an appetite, now I can taste it by @enchantedlandcoffee {E, 1k}

"Haz, are you sure about this? I don't want to hurt you, love." Louis asked, hovering over Harry's chest.

"Lou..." The omega whined, bringing his hands to the alpha's butt in an attempt to bring him closer. "You won't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" Louis asked again, staying rooted in his position until he was sure he wouldn't hurt the omega.

"I'm sure," Harry whined, moving his hands to the top of Louis' thighs. "How about this? If I'm uncomfortable in any way, I'll tap you twice, like this, okay?" The omega demonstrated the movement for Louis, tapping twice on the alpha's upper thigh.

OR Louis and Harry try something new in the bedroom.

[lawsofchaos1]

Malec Promptlet: Royal AU

Asmodeus is the High King of Edom, a brutal and immoral overlord.

Edom conquered Idris two years ago after a long and protracted war, ended by the public execution of the King and Queen, Robert and Maryse Lightwood.

Alexander Lightwood, the Crown Prince and High General, is spared by Asmodeus, but only with the intention of having him serve as a living symbol of Idris' defeat by becoming the personal servant of Edom's own Crown Prince, Magnus Bane.

Prior to the war's end, Alec was able to send his siblings to safety in a neutral country across the sea, DuMort, even though he had to all but beg his sister and his shield-brother, Jace, to go. Alec had known that they were losing, the magic of Edom too powerful to fight much longer, and he'd played every emotional trick he could to make sure Jace and Izzy left their country and him behind. Max would need both of them with him to survive as a legitimate blood heir of a fallen kingdom.

Alec hadn't expected to survive himself.

But, when Asmodeus demands he bend the knee in the same room as his parent's bodies, Alec understands the trade at hand - his dignity for his remaining people's survival.

It's an easy decision for Alec to make.

The journey from Idris to Edom is hard, but Alec holds fast and eventually they make it to Edom's capital and he is thrown to the mercy of the Crown Prince's household. Every so often Asmodeus trots Alec out for some public humiliation, to prove Edom's superiority in front of visiting rulers wondering whether to take the offered treaty terms or risk negotiation, but for the most part everything is ... fine.

Magnus, as it turns out, is a kind master and Alec has no complaints.

As the seasons turn and begin to repeat, Magnus and Alec grow to be friends, confidantes even, though Alec is never truly able to forget the precariousness of his situation. Magnus desperately wants to be more, but he also knows that Alec doesn't have the power to say no, so he contents himself as they are. 

Magnus dreams of Alec being confident enough in their firm friendship and trust to perhaps want to be together as well, dreams even more secretly of the two of them ruling one day together as fully equal partners.

(Alec refuses to admit, even to himself, that he often dreams of similar tidings.) 

One night, however, Asmodeus calls Alec to serve him in his private rooms with a group of counselors and visiting officials from their southern neighbor. Magnus sadly watches Alec go, knowing exactly why Asmodeus wants Alec tonight of all nights. Negotiation begins tomorrow on a trade treaty, and watching Idris' fallen prince kneel to an enemy king is a powerful reminder of what it can cost to refuse Asmodeus' wishes.

Magnus goes to sleep, wishing futilely he was able to help without making things infinitely worse, hoping Alec will be well and whole in the morning.

It seems like his head has just touched the pillow when Magnus is woken up, suddenly and shockingly, the embers of the previous evening's fire providing just enough light to see by. Jolting up, heart racing, Magnus' mouth drops open to see Alec kneeling prostrate at the side of his bed.

Alec is frantic, broken apologies mixing in with barely intelligible explanations of something Magnus can't even begin to understand, so frantic and terrified is his friend. Magnus doesn't know what to do because Alec is shaking and trembling, and, even in those first days when Alec had thought he was to be executed and his people punished at the first mistake he'd made, he'd never been like this.

Magnus tries to comfort him, making calming sounds and promising that everything will be okay, but Alec doesn't seem to hear him. Alec won't rise and Magnus hates it because this is how servants react to his father, so he slips to his knees at Alec's side.

Thanking all the gods that Alec doesn't flinch at his touch - Magnus doesn't know what he would do if Alec did - the story finally comes tumbling out, Alec still refusing to meet his eyes.

Asmodeus and his retinue had been drunk, but Alec is well enough used to that. The casual slurs and violence they throw his way are what Alec has come to expect when he is called to serve the King.

(Magnus is livid at this unthinking confirmation. Alec is too quiet, too resigned to complain, has never mentioned this to him before - though Magnus had certainly suspected - and Magnus can do nothing but seethe helplessly as Alec mentions it as though it is nothing.)

But something had changed midway through the evening - there'd been a new horror lurking in the glint of Asmodeus' eyes. He'd grabbed Alec the next time he'd been close enough and forced him on his lap, laughing and wondering to the crowd exactly how well the Crown Prince of Idris would warm his bed.

Alec had panicked.

He keeps apologizing to Magnus and Magnus has a sudden, horrified image of Alec having grabbed a knife and slit his father's throat and the two of them having to run to escape charges of attempted regicide (because obviously Magnus isn't letting Alec run away by himself), but Alec keeps going and finally Magnus understands what had happened.

Alec claimed himself to be Magnus' bed slave instead- the only thing the King would have accepted as a reason for Alec to say no. Alec has no rights of his own in Edom. Only if Alec already belonged to Magnus, a possession that would irritate Magnus if someone else used it, could he refuse.

But Asmodeus won't hide this.

Asmodeus will think it hilarious, and Magnus heart stutters in his chest because he can't deny it without condemning Alec to the executioner's block now that it's been said.

Everyone will believe that Magnus cares not for consent and has chosen to use a former Prince and defeated enemy in the basest way possible.

And he cannot deny it.

But Magnus swallows his horror and holds Alec to his chest, running his hand soothingly across Alec's back until the trembling subsides and his exhausted friend is nearly falling asleep in his arms.

Tomorrow will be one of the hardest days of Magnus' life, but he will do anything to spare Alec from his father.

Anything.

[Insert Happy Malec Ending]

[frostbitebakery]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I got tagged by the wonderful @imrowanartist and @cacodaemonia 💜

Watch Obi-Wan go through the seven stages over his skincare routine. Don’t worry, Obes, that alive looking gentleman in the background has had weirder crushes he won’t admit to. You still have a chance. 🫶

STILL NIGHT 1, FOLKS

In Cody’s humble opinion, he spends too much time staring at the ceiling of his apartment.

There’s a louder than usual-for-the-past-two-hours thump coming from his office/guest bedroom/storage.

The living room ceiling could use a new coat of paint.

“Arm?” Wolffe yells from Cody’s bedroom.

He should do some dusting first.

Gurgling.

He definitely should dust first. He can’t even remember the last time he dusted the tops of his bookcases.

“Leg,” comes the guttural reply eventually.

He really should take a day off and deep clean, Cody thinks, fingers clenching in the blanket he keeps on the couch for when he needs to hide from the world for just a minute.

“…h…elp?”

“Coming!” Wolffe sounds far too gleeful. All the highly unprofessional comments about his patient looking— “So gross!”

That.

“Cody, get your ass in here and hold the leg in place.”

Wolffe genuinely cares about people’s wellbeing, Cody can attest to that. But somehow his brain to mouth filter got turned off while growing up. Maybe Cody had dropped him one too many times. They’re not that many years apart in age. Cody had been a kid as well when he accepted the role their father inadvertently pushed him into.

“Lower your goddamn voice,” he yells back, “before I get complaints from the neighbors.” He throws the blanket off himself and rolls to his feet to help caring for the zombie in his guest bedroom.

——

No pressure tagging: @adiduck @elwenyere @meebles @merlyn-bane @bluemaskedkarma @cacodaemonia (if I may request some linework when you have some? My soul needs soothing)

[ciginatree]

This Place is Haunted - Ricky Olson x fem!reader

Summary: When a group of friends decide to perform a seance in one of the most haunted spots in eastern Pennsylvania, things take a dark, bloody turn.

Content warnings: language, gore, death, Ouija board/seance, mentions of sacrifice, murder, suicide, child death; fluff

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to finish! Thank you all for being so patient, it turned out a lot longer than I expected and took a long time to edit. Shout out to my sister for being my beta tester. Enjoy!

This story is a complete work of fiction portraying the likeness of a real person or persons in a fictional situation.

Ricky POV

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I say, breaking the silence in the van. At my feet is a backpack stuffed with flashlights, gloves, a first aid kit, candles, and to top it off: a Ouija board. I had dabbled in the paranormal before, I live in a haunted house for fuck’s sake, but I had never thought to take it this far. I mean, breaking and entering into the most taboo spot in this part of Pennsylvania? There’s no way in hell it can end well.

“Seriously, Rick? You’re gonna back out now? This was basically your idea,” Angelo groans.

“Yeah you literally won’t shut up about this place and how much you’ve been wanting to ‘check it out’,” Balz emphasizes with air quotes, momentarily taking his hand off the wheel.  

“I didn’t mean I wanted to actually break into the place!”  

“Whatever man it’s too late you’re not getting out of this van.”

I sigh, sinking into the seat of the car, accepting my fate. I look down at my watch: 11:13 pm. The only people out in this podunk town now are druggies and night shifters. Moving here from Seattle was a drastic change, a welcome one, but drastic nonetheless. I left my hometown to join the band a few months ago and I have to say, I got some nasty culture shock. 

“Wait, why are we going to Chris’s? I thought he wasn’t coming,” I say as we turn onto the familiar street.

“He’s not. Y/N is,” Balz remarks smugly. 

“What?!” Y/N has been helping out with some of the more local shows since before I joined the band, she’s Chris’s neighbor so we’ve gotten to know her pretty well outside the shows too. And it’s no secret to the band that I’ve developed a bit of a crush on her. I groan, dragging my hands down my face and slumping into the seat. Goddammit I really can’t back out now. Balz pulls into the driveway and honks twice. A few seconds pass before Y/N exits her house. She turns around and locks the door before bounding down the steps towards the van. She slides open the door and settles into the window seat to the left of me, giving a quick greeting. 

“Oh Y/N, that seat belt is broken, you'll have to sit in the middle seat,” Balz says looking in the rearview mirror. Bullshit. I meet his gaze in the mirror, glaring at him briefly. I know exactly what he’s doing. 

“Oh. Ok.” Y/N replies nonchalantly, sliding over into the seat next to me. I scoot over a bit so she has room to buckle. I meet her gaze, giving her a small smile before looking out the window. Balz pulls out of the driveway and starts heading down the backroads towards the abandoned house. I feel stiff. I can sense her right next to me, our knees practically touching. I try to keep my breathing steady to not give myself away. “So…what exactly is the story behind this house?”

“Why don’t you tell her Ricky? You’re the one who’s obsessed with the place,” Angelo jokes. My cheeks heat up a bit and I pull my lips into a tight line. I neutralize my expression and turn towards Y/N to respond. 

“Long story short, a bunch of culty shit happened in the 1960s. Sacrifices, mania, suicide; that sort of thing,” I mutter out quickly.

“C’mon you can do better than that. Seriously, give me the details,” Y/N looks at me, eyes full of curiosity. 

I sigh, exhaling through my nose. “The Banes family moved into the house in 1962, the house was newly built. Emily Banes, the mother, started getting into the occult and paranormal pretty soon after they moved in. She believed there was some sort of spirit in her house that she needed to please, she basically worshiped it. In ‘63 she gave birth to Henry, who was born with his limbs all twisted up. The doctors did their best to fix him, but it didn’t work too well. Emily believed that the defects were because the spirit was angry with her, but the truth is she took thalidomide during the pregnancy to help with morning sickness which caused a malformation of Henry’s skeletal structure. About a month after he was born, she ritualistically sacrificed him in the living room in an attempt to ‘please the spirit’. She buried him in the wall and claimed he died from the defects,” the car is dead silent now as I continue,.”Emily went manic, blaming her husband, Robert, for Henry’s death. She tore into the wallpaper and brick, ripping up her fingers trying to find her baby. The neighbors found her roaming the neighborhood at night muttering to herself and digging in their bushes. She ended up stabbing Robert 34 times in his sleep before tying an old curtain around her neck and jumping off the balcony that overlooks the front room. The house has been lived in a few times since then, but has been abandoned for decades. Rumor has it that if you light candles in the shape of a pentagram in the living room, close your eyes, and listen you’ll hear a baby shrieking faintly in the walls.”

The silence was thick in the car, suffocating as we drove over the gravel backroads. I bite my lip, pushing the lip ring with my tongue as I wait for someone to speak.

“Jesus,” Y/N finally breathes out. I look over and her eyes are wide with shock. “We’re seriously doing a Ouija board here in the middle of the night?” There’s more than a hint of fear in her voice. 

“Don’t worry, Rick will protect you, won’t you Ricky?”

I roll my eyes at Angelo’s jab before turning my attention back to her. “Seriously though, it’ll be fine. I’ve got a pocket knife if things get tough.” I tap my pocket, smiling.

She chuckles, “Oh boy, ghosts watch out Ricky’s got a pocket knife.”

I laugh as the van slows to a stop. The run down house looms into view of the window. Taking a breath I grab the backpack in front of me before sliding the van door open and hopping onto the gravelly, dirt filled terrain. 

***

Glass crunches under my feet as we enter the house. A curved staircase shadows the entryway, what’s left of the musty carpet hanging loosely on the wooden stairs. I follow to the right of the staircase, the grained wooden floor of the front room coming into view. It’s littered, the sharp odor of urine assaults my nose and my chest heaves. I bring the sleeve of my sweater to my face and cough into it, holding it there in a feeble attempt to mask the smell. “Oh my god, I can taste it,” I wheeze.

“Christ!” I swivel around in time to see Balz coughing and swatting frantically at a cobweb caught on his face. I laugh maniacally into my sleeve as he hacks up half his air supply. When he’s regained his composure I sweep my hand out in front of me, gesturing for him to lead the way. Shuddering, Balz smacks my arm out of his path glaring as he speed walks past me. I snicker, falling into step behind him with Y/N behind me, and Angelo bringing up the rear.   

 Dust sparkles in the rays of our flashlights, the wood protesting beneath us. I sweep my flashlight over the area, taking in the decay. Clink. I aim my flashlight down in front of me, searching for what I kicked. A slim cylinder, caught in a notch of the wooden floor. A needle. Like I said, druggies. I swipe it over to the wall with the toe of my shoe and continue into the room. 

“Woah, is that…?” Y/N’s flashlight points up, the light bending off the ancient crystals of the chandelier. The broken light casts a speckled spotlight onto the twisted iron railing lining the balcony that overlooks the living room. The mangled railing leaves a gaping hole; a mouth filled with rotting iron teeth and a gruff wooden tongue. Mutilated shards of metal angle down the overhang, beckoning us to join it in death, just as Emily had.

“Yeah.” I say simply. I try not to imagine what her body would’ve looked like swinging below the chandelier. I slip the backpack off my shoulder with a jangling thud and crouch down to remove the supplies. Y/N brushes dirt and leaves away from the gear with the side of her shoe, taking a seat across from me. Legs crossed and hands folded under her chin she watches as I set up the seance. I pull out the candles and the Ouija board, furrowing my brow I rummage through the fabric. “Shit, I forgot a lighter.”

“Here,” Angelo paces back from the chipped wall he was inspecting, plunging his hand into his pocket to remove an old lighter. I take it from him, stowing it away in my hoodie.

“Thanks. Balz get over here!” Balz whips his head away from the dusty window and trods over to us. “Ok, here’s how this is going to work. We’re gonna set up a pentagram with the candles and us, the Ouija board, and the final candle will be in the center. Do not blow out any of the candles once we have started the seance, do not taunt the spirits, and absolutely do not end the session or remove your hand from the puck without saying goodbye. Or I will kill you. Got it?” Everyone murmurs some form of acknowledgement, looking around at each other. “Good. Everyone grab a candle and start setting up.”

The candles aren’t fancy, just small unscented tea candles found at the convenience store on Main Street. My back shivers and I take a breath as Y/N sets down the last point of the star. She, Balz, and Angelo rejoin me in the center as I unfold the board, placing the planchette in the center, and the final candle at the head of the panel. “Ok. Everyone turn off your flashlights.” Clicks echo throughout the room, and we are blanketed in an inky darkness. I stand up, withdrawing the lighter from my pocket and flick the metallic gear once, twice, the third time sparking a flame to life. Warmth dances across my fingertips and illuminates a burning orange under my face. I walk the perimeter of the star, igniting the candles one by one until the only one unlit is in the center of our little group. I tilt the flame, charring the pure wick of the final candle. Extinguishing the light in my hand I return the lighter to Angelo and cross my legs, filling the final gap on the sides of the Ouija board. Y/N sits fidgeting with the hem of her shirt to my left, Angelo to my right, and Balz across from me. I bring one knee up to my chest, folding the other beneath me. I grin in the lowlight. “Alright, let’s begin.”

Each person in the group places the first two fingers of their right hand on the planchette. We drag the puck along the perimeter of the board in three stalking circles, thinning the veil between worlds with each scrape of the cardboard. The planchette comes to rest in the center of the alphabet and I hesitate. “Shit, what are we even going to ask?”

“Probably should have thought of that before we started,” Balz hissed.

“Ok, ok just-” I sigh. “Hello?” Silence. I glance around, the flames stand still as unmoving soldiers. A lighthouse to whatever could be lurking here. I feel a chill skate along my back and I repress a shudder. A thud sounds from the back of the house and we whip our heads around, holding our breath. A small creak follows, then nothing. We all wait, turning back to stare at the unmoving puck expectantly. Nothing. “Must’ve been a rat or something. Somebody else try asking something.”

Y/N inhales, biting her lip before speaking. “Um, is… are there any spirits here? God I feel stupid.”

“You’re fine, let’s just wait a minute. See if something happens,” I tell her, eyes remaining fixed on the board. We wait, silent, for thirty seconds.

“Holy fuck!” Angelo panics suddenly. The planchette twitches, dragging itself with a scraping sigh along the board. “Is anyone moving it? Rick, are you moving it?”

“No, I’m not moving it! Now shut up!” The deformed heart shaped piece advances slowly towards the left of the board before coming to a rest. B. My heart is pounding in my ears, filling the silence between us all as the planchette resumes its movement. A. Another drag, quicker this time. B. One last scrape. Y. 

“Baby?” Y/N whispers.

“Damn. Baby? Like the baby, like the one in the walls?” Angelo hisses.

“Are we talking to Emily Banes?” I ask, ignoring both Angelo and Y/N. The planchette moves swiftly across the board. My eyes widen, startled at how quickly it responded. It barely stops at each letter before jolting to the next one. D.E.A.T.H.

“It’s not even answering the damn questions!” Balz exclaims. The planchette hasn’t stopped moving as it spells out another word. D.E.C.A.Y.

The puck whips wildly as it spells, possessed by an unseen force. My fingers tingle as my arm jolts to accommodate the movements of the piece. S.H.I.F.T. 

“Ricky, I don’t like this. I- I don’t feel good,” Y/N pants out next to me. 3. I turn my head to look at her. Fuck. Her face is flushed and strained, her head bobbing slightly as her eyelashes flutter. P.D.Q.L.Q. At this point it’s spewing letters faster than we can register. W.K.H.K.R.X.V.H.

“I’m calling it. We’re done.” I say shortly.

“Dude, we’ve only been doing this for like 5 minutes,” Angelo argues.

“I don’t fucking care, we’re done!” I shout across the board. “Circle the board three times and say goodbye.” But the second we try to move the planchette it plants itself in the center of the board. “What the fuck?” I push as hard as I can with my two fingers. The flames are flickering like flags in a hurricane, and the top point blows out and another creak sounds from behind us. I smack everyone’s hand off the planchette before curling my fingers around it and ripping it from the board. I stand up, hurling it across the room with a shout. It clatters into the wall before ricocheting and skidding across the floor. Momentary silence. Perplexed breathing huffing into the empty space. 

“Now what?” Balz hesitantly asks. I look around at everyone, silently questioning. 

“What if we explore the rest of the house?” Angelo proposes. I look at Y/N, raising my eyebrow slightly. The color has returned to her face, but she looks unsettled. 

“Sure, might as well,” she shrugs her shoulders. Balz and Angelo move to blow out the rest of the candles, gathering up the Ouija board. I turn to her as they walk out of earshot.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to,” I don’t want her to feel pressured into doing this, but curiosity is sprouting steadily in me. 

“Yeah I’ll be fine,” she gives a small half smile, but her eyes look uneasy. I nod warily, walking to the backpack to pack up the rest of the supplies. We decide to leave the candles where they are to cool off.

“What if we split up?” Balz suggests, side eyeing Angelo with a glimmer in his eyes that I don’t really like. 

“Yeah, I’ll go with Balz, you two go upstairs and look around,” Angelo replies, grinning evilly. Figures. 

“Sure, works for me. Everyone meet back at the candles in 30 minutes?” Everyone agrees, and I pull two flashlights out of the backpack. Angelo and Balz click their lights on and start walking towards the back of the house, down the corridor towards the kitchen, leaving me alone with Y/N. I hand a flashlight to her and tilt my head towards the staircase. “Let’s go.”

We make our way to the musty set of stairs together, the wood damp with rot. I take the lead in case any of the stairs give out. The planks creak and moan with every step of our feet on the curled carpet. When we reach the top I look out over the banister, pointing my flashlight down into the room and I sense Y/N step beside me as she peers down past my shoulder. 

“Jesus, that’d be a nasty fall,” she mutters, “Shall we?” She sweeps her flashlight dramatically over to the end of the hallway.

My mouth twitches up in a half smile. “We shall,” I respond just as dramatically. We laugh, making our way to the last door of the hallway. I nudge it open with the end of my flashlight, coughing at the unsettled dust. It’s a bedroom. A metal framed bed sits in the left corner, opposite from a closet with sliding wooden doors. I walk over to the bed, inspecting the stained mattress that lays upon it. Crouching down, I direct my beam of light under the bed. I wrinkle my nose at the empty beer cans and stand up. 

“Hey, Rick? Can I ask you something?” I turn towards where Y/N is inspecting the dirty, steel framed window. 

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Why’d you guys invite me?” I pause.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this kind of seems like a guy’s trip sort of thing, so why was I invited?” I bite my lip, toying with the ring as I try to think of what to say. I sigh, folding my arms and averting my eyes, a heavy knot forming in my stomach. 

“Balz and Angelo think I have this… I dunno, a thing for you or something. So I think they invited you to try and get us to spend time together,” I mumble quickly, toying with the sleeve of my hoodie.

“A ‘thing’? What, like a crush?” 

I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I stammer out a response. “I guess? I dunno, it was their idea.” 

“Do you have a crush on me?” She takes a few steps towards me and I can feel the humiliation burning me alive. “Do you like me like that?”

I lift my eyes to look at her fully, expecting disgust written all over. However, she looks curious with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. I search her face before giving a small answering nod, nerves eating away at my stomach. Before I can say anything else she grasps the front of my sweater, crashing our lips together in a messy kiss. I inhale sharply before closing my eyes and leaning into her. My heart swells and beats like it’s trying to escape my chest and I bring one hand up to cup the back of her neck as the other snakes around her waist, pulling her into me. She tastes heavenly. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss as our lips move against each other softly. Finally, we break apart, gasping for air. 

“I like you too,” she whispers. I break into a smile, huffing out a breathless laugh before pulling her back into me. I kiss her passionately, groaning at the soft noises she makes against my lips. I brush my tongue against her bottom lip, pushing it into her mouth when she parts them. She gasps and threads her fingers into my hair, tugging softly. I groan, squeezing her hip as I lick into her mouth and work my tongue against her own. 

I stumble us both backwards until my calves hit the bed and I sit down, tugging her down beside me. Not caring about how filthy the mattress is, I wrap my arms around her again, dipping my head down to kiss and suck her neck. I caress just below her jaw, sucking and gnawing at the tender skin, reveling in the way she tilts her head back. I pull away, grinning, and in the moonlight streaking through the window I can see the forming mark. I rest my forehead against her own, massaging her cheek with my thumb. “Be mine? Please?” 

She pecks my lips and I can feel her smile into the kiss. “Of course,” she chuckles lightly. I smile, pressing one last kiss to her cheek and sighing before checking my watch.

“Shit, it’s been almost half an hour we should get downstairs,” I clamber off the bed, grabbing my discarded flashlight. I take Y/N’s hand and lead her out the door when we hear a bloodcurdling scream. Balz. I freeze, squeezing her hand, and peer around the corner, praying to god that this was some sick prank he was pulling. Peering out I see a man, thin and tall dragging Balz by his ankle into the living room. There’s a dark trail following beneath his body and it’s then that I register the knife. Adrenaline shocks through me and runs my blood cold. I eye the front door gauging how fast we could get there. My head snaps back down to see the man on all fours, drooling, and scrambling for the staircase, Balz groaning on the floor long forgotten as he clambers right towards us. His hand hits the bottom step and I backpedal as fast I can, yanking a terrified Y/N with me back into the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet.

I slide the wooden door closed as quietly as I can. Circling one hand around Y/N’s mouth, and the other around her waist, I back us up into the closet as far as we can go. Moonlight bleeds in through the wooden slats and spills onto the floor before us. I can feel her hyperventilating against my palm and a lone tear drips onto my wrist. Without saying a word I turn her around and pull her into my chest, stroking her hair as I shush her gently. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry you got dragged into this. Baby, I need you to calm down, or he’ll hear us,” I whisper shakily into her temple. I try to remain calm for her sake, but I’m sure she can feel my heartbeat rapidly pounding in my chest. I can feel her near silent tears staining my neck as she bites down on my hoodie to muffle her breathing. I lower us down to a crouch, minimizing our appearance. Y/N clings to me harder, shaking, eyes shut tight against my neck. I keep one hand on the back of her head for comfort and bring the other to the pocket of my jeans, drawing out my pocket knife. I flip it open slowly, looking down to adjust my stance.

My heart drops and my breathing stutters to a halt. The moonlight is gone. My gaze trails up to see a bony figure, staring through the slats of the closed door. My grip tightens on Y/N’s head and I press her further into my neck. She tenses, holding her breath with me. A croaking, throaty chuckle rises into existence.

The motherfucker is laughing on the other side of the door. Deranged. That’s the only way to describe this corpse of a man. The laughing melds into a gurgling cough, the fit ending in a deep, guttural groan. “I know you took my baby,” he sing-songs in a hoarse moan. His gaze is at the wrong angle to be looking at us. He’s talking to the goddamn door itself. “You put him in the walls.” He giggles before giving a wet sniff. He trails his wet knife across the slats like a child playing a xylophone. A drop of blood oozes off the knife and in between the slats of the wood. Balz’s blood. It drops off the grain and dribbles next to my foot with a soft patter. I jerk my leg towards my body and stare at the crimson droplet in horror. 

I snap my gaze back up in time to see the man slam his head into the doorframe, the force of it rattling the sliding doors. “I KNOW YOU TOOK MY BABY, GIVE ME BACK MY BABY,” he bellows, repeating each phrase with every bash of his head. Y/N jumps, gripping the back of my jacket so hard I think it might tear. Through the slats I can just make out the outline of a syringe sticking out from the crook in his arm. He cracks his skull against the wall once more before stumbling across the room to the window with a low groan. “Why’d you take my baby?” he sobs, before smashing his head through the glass with a shriek. 

Now that he’s away from the door I jump up, bringing Y/N with me. She’s trembling, her eyes red from tears. “Ok, on the count of three I’m going to open the door, and we’re going to run like hell to the front door, got it?” Another crash followed by an unearthly howl and glass shards tinkling to the floor. She shakes her head frantically, eyes wide.

“No, no, no, no, no. He’s right there he’ll get us-”

“Hey, it’s ok I’ve got you, I promise,” I grasp her shoulders and plant a quick kiss to her forehead, sliding my hand down to clutch hers, the other one gripping my knife in front of me. “One… two… three!” I slide open the door and hurdle out of it, Y/N right behind me. I fling my arm out to turn the corner out of the room, when I’m suddenly wrenched backwards, Y/N’s hand leaving mine as I stumble. The force of it all sends the knife flying out of my hand and into the hallway. I whip around to see Y/N on the floor, the man gripping her by her hair. She cries out, sending elbows and fists backwards as she tries to regain her footing, but the man is just out of her reach.

“Get the fuck off her!” I shout, diving at the man. He yells, letting go of her to claw at me. I punch at his face blindly, landing any hit I can. “Y/N, go find Angelo!” 

“What about you?” 

“Go!” The word ends with a wheeze as a hit to the stomach knocks the wind out of me and I slump to the floor. The man starts after Y/N again and I scramble up, tackling him to the ground just outside the door. I look over to see her reaching the staircase before I’m hoisted up roughly by my arm. Up close, the man is more rancid than I could have previously thought. There are missing patches of hair, replaced by gummy scabs; his pupils are extremely dilated, the surrounding whites cracked with streaks of red. His lips are chapped and bleeding and his sallow face has numerous cuts from the glass he smashed himself through, the blood smeared across his puckered face. 

He slams me into the wall and I gasp as my head rebounds off of it. He chuckles leaning in close to me and I can smell his putrid breath. He mumbles croaky nonsense into my face and I bring my knee up to his groin. He lets go of me with a grunt and I punch him again as he stumbles back towards the railing. I heave against him with a final shove and his foot slips, catching the empty air between the disconnected pieces of mangled iron. He tumbles backward over the edge and I feel myself lurch forward. He’s caught my wrist.

My heart falls to my stomach as my feet leave the ground. I lock eyes with the man as an iron bar catches him, sliding through his spine and out his stomach with a gurgling choke. But I don’t stop. I pass the iron bars and freefall over the banister and past the mouth that caught the man in its teeth. For a moment it’s peaceful. Until my head cracks against the floor and my entire body goes numb. My vision blurs and I can just barely see the man skewered above me, hanging like a repulsive, mounted beast. Like Emily. 

I hear Y/N scream my name through the fuzzy haze before everything fades and I’m falling once again into darkness. 

***

Beep

Beep

I slowly wake to the feel of sheets over me, a steady light beating down behind my eyelids. My head feels like it’s going to explode. I blink my eyes open, shutting them again quickly at the burning of the sterile white lights. I try again, blinking and squinting as my surroundings slowly come into focus. I could hear the steady beeping of machines, each short sound stabbing my skull like a knife. There’s a warm weight on my hand, and I anchor myself to it. I turn my head slowly, gasping sharply at the splitting pain. My whole body aches, I feel like I can’t move.

I pant from the effort it takes to turn my head, tilting my eyes down and I see her. Y/N. Her hand is wrapped around mine, her head resting on our conjoined hands. Her hair cascades down on the hospital bed, her breath fanning gently across my fingers. She doesn’t look hurt and my chest heaves a collapsing sigh in relief. I attempt to curl my fingers around her hand, but pain shoots through my arm the second I try to move it. I hiss in pain, dissolving into a coughing fit that feels like it’s going to tear me open. Y/N snaps her head up, standing to lean over me. The light blurs around her, giving an angelic effect I wish I could admire more, but the strain in my eyes prevents me. 

“Hey,” she says softly. Her voice sounds tired, trembling slightly. “How… how are you feeling?”

“I feel like shit,” I rasp. She brushes a piece of hair back from my face.

“Yeah, falling from a balcony will do that for you,” she chuckles nervously. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while now. Um, they said you have a couple fractured ribs, most likely a concussion, and a hell of a lot of bruising. They gave you an IV and some pain meds,” she gestures to the needle sticking in my hand. She takes a shaky breath and her voice breaks as she talks. “Scared the fuck out of me, Ricky.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears starting to well in the corners of my eyes. I’m exhausted; mentally, physically, emotionally. I just want to go home. Y/N laughs shortly, sniffing wetly as she wipes the tears that fell from her own eyes, before brushing away the one that fell down my cheek.

“Don’t apologize, you saved my life.”

I gasp a stuttering breath as my eyes widen, muscles tensing. “Balz- oh my god what-”

“He’s ok. He’ll be ok.” She interrupts, placing a hand out to steady me. “He had to have surgery, so he’s recovering in a different room. Angelo’s alright too. I found him barely conscious and dazed in the kitchen before you fell. He’s a little beat up but there’s no sign of a concussion or other injury. He’s in the waiting room right now.” I slump back against the pillow, relieved once again. I take a deep breath and try not to think too hard about everything. 

“Do you… need anything?” She asks quietly. My gaze darts to her lips before resettling on her eyes.

“Kiss me. Please,” I whisper desperately. “I just-” She cuts me off by softly pressing her lips to mine. I close my eyes and melt into her. Her cheeks are still wet from her tears and I wish I could move my arms enough to wipe them away. She squeezes my hand before pulling away just a bit, her lips brushing mine as she speaks.

“You can rest now, it’s ok. We’re all ok.” She kisses my cheek and sits back down in the chair she had pulled next to my bed. I can feel my eyes drifting and dozing as she takes my hand again, kissing each finger as I drift back to sleep. I squeeze her hand the best I can, knowing she’ll be here when I wake up.

Tag list: @rumoured-whispers @thewarmisice @black-damask-1999 @skulliecadaver-blog @bloody-delusion-expert

[searenbound]

Hybrids on the mind again.

Thinking about stray dog Bakugou who’s been the bane of your parents lives ever since you dragged him from the streets because.

“A pack of feral hybrids were trying to jump him! He won, but he’s hurt! I couldn’t just leave him!”

Now he’s been nursed back to health and could have been re-homed, but instead he’s stomping around their house like he owns the place.

Eats all their expensive meats and scares the neighbors too, probably scared off that nice neighbor boy they wanted you to give a chance because they haven’t come around in awhile.

They’re utterly perplexed by you insisting he stay in your room. It always sounds like something’s being tossed around in there, how are you even getting sleep?

The answer is, passed out with his knot in you, but they don’t need to know all that

[path-of-grass-and-leaves]

How I Practice Death Work

Please keep in mind that this is a post about my own practice. My relationship with death work is intertwined with my individual path and is highly personal. What is written here may not apply to everyone.

Through working with "Death Energy"

Death Energy as I define it is simply energy sourced from things associated with Death. Some examples of this include dead leaves, rotting wood, snow, compost, soil taken during winter, ash, and plants associated with Death. I prefer to use the root of the plant because I associate it with the spirit world/underworld.

Some practitioners like to use bones and grave dirt in their workings. This isn't something that I do often because I believe that these things are tied to specific spirits and in my practice it's important to let the dead rest, with some circumstances being an exception. This is by no means true for everyone and I think it's fine to take graveyard dirt or bones as long as they're ethically and respectfully sourced.

I find that death energy works great for transformative magic, for endings and rebirth, and for connecting with certain spirits. I'm sure it could also be used in baneful workings.

Through Mundane Action

From the outside, how I practice death work probably seems very ordinary. I take in roadkill from my street and bury it, remove dead animals from yards and set the corpses somewhere quiet. I compost. I clean for a recent widow and bring her food and gifts, offer support and guidance for grieving loved ones, cook for them. These are expressions of love and forms of veneration, which helps me connect with the dead on a deeper and more intimate level.

Through Veneration and "Safe-Passing"

This includes building altars and leaving offerings for ancestors, passed loved ones, pets, and even local wildlife.

In terms of helping spirits pass on, I have a specific incantation/prayer that I recite for dead animals that I pass while driving. I encounter mostly animal spirits because my practice centers around the local flora and fauna. I will also hold burials and mourning periods, leave offerings, and conduct spirit communication when the situation calls for it. When I'm performing more complicated rituals of this nature, I'll enlist the help of my local/personal spirits.

Through Compassion For The Living

Life and Death are interwoven and are of the same cycle. If I kill bugs and set out glue traps, will the local insect and mouse spirits want to work with me?

Some of the things that I do to show compassion for the living include helping animals in need, growing native plants and rewilding my yard, giving money to strangers when possible, gifting things to my friends and neighbors, cleaning, cooking, or doing favors for loved ones. I believe that what we do in this world reflects how we interact with and are perceived in the spiritworld/otherworld.

Through acknowledging Grief and Fear

Believe it or not, I'm actually terrified of death and dying. My path to deathwork came to me through a time of intense grief and through the acceptance of mortality.

Reflecting on death, talking about it openly with loved ones, and even thinking about what I would want for my own burial and funeral are things that have helped.

For grief, I leaving offerings and create altars, speak fondly to/of passed loved ones, and let myself feel what I need to feel. I don't have much more to say on this matter, but I think it's worth mentioning for those who are apprehensive about death work for these reasons. You're not alone.

I hope this resonated with some people. Once again, all of this is personal and nothing written here is universal. I write because I love to share.

[prismonautic]

baneful witchcraft — to cast, or to not cast?

imma start posting more things that aren’t JUST spells, i need some things to fill in my blog between projects 😅 so let’s discuss this my loves.

well, if you want to get a scale of how necessary (or unnecessary) your baneful witchcraft should be, imagine the interactions you had + are about to do as physical actions.

rule of thumb: if it’s not something that you’d do to someone in real life, it’s probably best you don’t try to do it astrally either.

if you not about it, don’t go looking for that type of smoke.

for example:

say that there was a really rude customer you’ve had, and they’re some stranger that you (hopefully) don’t see again. are you going to:

A) be petty and ensure that they have a hard time getting what they want because they were that mean to you?

B) punch them in the face, drag them off of the premises, and walk away?

C) find their address, kidnap them, and skin them alive in your basement?

if you’re someone who chose A — you’ve retaliated in the form of jinxing.

something quick and petty that allows you to get your lick back, but nothing long-term that implicates both of y’all for a hard time. this is comparable to a jinx, light baneful work. they’re pretty easy to cast, pretty easy to break. not that serious unless you dealing with someone who REALLY takes offense to that and will snap back harder on you.

if you’re someone who chose B — you’ve retaliated in the form of a hex.

i hope that you’re someone who fantasized about doing that instead of actually carrying it out in real life. if you actually carry this out in real life, i pray you got someone to bail you out. i understand the sentiment because there are times where i’ve wanted to beat the shit out of customers who were being vile to me, but it’s not worth any of the potential consequences if you chose the wrong person!

if you’re someone who chose C — you’ve retaliated in the form of a curse.

and … you should probably not be wielding baneful witchcraft because this is the definition of fuck around and find out + it’s REALLY not that serious. transmute some of that hatred into some abundance for you baby, that energy could go towards much better things actually worth your time.

if you chose this option for some reason, you need to get better at picking your battles and directing your energy towards better things — plus, i don’t think that interaction warrants the amount of innocent lives you’ll affect by gravely harming that person. you’re also setting yourself up for some pretty bad retaliation from other forces too.

so like… while i’m all for baneful works, i’m NOT for throwing it around lightly! again, treating baneful works like they’re candy to toss around is an amazing way to fuck around and find out.

additional closing notes

it’s unlikely that you’ll find yourself in a situation where you need to use a vile curse. if you have to resort to that after everything else failed to work, i’m sorry for what you went through and i hope you get the retribution you deserve.

hexes, it’s likely you’ll have some long-term situations that warrant them!

just make sure there’s a kill-switch in the spell (eg. if someone stops their gossiping for three months, the hex will automatically break). not a good idea to make a hex long-lasting no matter what conditions — extending the duration with no outlet basically makes it a curse.

jinxes, i personally rarely cast because i prefer to calm down and direct my energy to somewhere else.

i don’t like immediately resorting to malice. however, i find that they’re pretty good in teaching quick lessons for repeated annoyances. got an annoying neighbor that won’t stay out of your business? a witch could just jinx them to have enough problems around their own house that they only worry about their own business. quick, a little meanspirited, but you not straight up assaulting them for being a nuisance.

if you have the power, make sure to use it responsibly + avoid fucking around too much if you don’t want to find out! if you want to fuck around, at least cover your ass enough to do it.

end of the blog!

fly away my oneironauts !!!

[emo-gremlin]

General Friendly Neighbor hcs

Feel free to add on!

😊 They...they may be stupid. And by may, I mean they are. Like, common sense? Don't know her. Gordon has to thank his lucky stars that they're durable.

😊 They are all absolute sweethearts. Reaching out to anyone they see might be sad or needing help.

😊 They all know ASL, and a few common phrases in Spanish.

😊 Despite being afraid of the Unfriendly Neighbors, they still treat them with kindness, thinking maybe, just maybe, it will fix them. (It won't, but Gordon can't bring himself to tell them that.)

😊 They all know how to sew.

😊 If left unsupervised, will eat glue, play dough and paint.

😊 If exposed to 'mean' media, their colors start to fade. If they get to the point they're scratching out their eyes, it's too late and must be escorted to the Unfriendly Neighborhood by one of its ambassadors.

😊 However, Gordon doesn't bar them from watching TV entirely. Shows like MLP, Sesame Street, ones that showcase similar values to one's of their own show are allowed. (The Unfriendly Neighbors have full tv access, everything except porn.)

😊 Unfortunately, a few puppets now know how to swear, thanks to Gordon. Being a handyman kinda does that to ya.

😊 Gordon prides himself on teaching the puppets general handyman knowledge, like how to fix a flat tire, oil change, unclog toilets, use a hammer, etc.

😊 One of the UF ambassadors showed them memes and now quote them whenever possible. One Norman even dabbed while they were live and it went viral. The same Norman also did the Orange Justice during the end credits of an episode and that also went viral. It is the bane of Gordon's existence.

😊 NO ONE IS ALLOWED INTERNET PRIVILEGES. TV IS ONE THING, INTERNET IS WORSE.

😊 Very big huggers. During meet and greets, guests who don't like hugs are asked to wear a pin saying so, so that the puppets know before going in for one. Pins are provided for free.

😊 Accepting of everyone! Gordon was able to get them a float at the last Pride celebration, and they all had a lot of fun! It took awhile for the face paint stains to come out though.

😊 Can and will burst into song unpromted.

[writervaul-t]

recommendations

***note: stories linked usually don't have smut or smut is written in later parts***

page two

[ osferth ]

witchling series by @targaryen-realness

"what's going on in that head of yours?" by @bookofbonbon

"i've never heard of such a stupid plan" + "give me your hand" by ↑

i will not fight by @fan-fantasies

you promise by @lazypeachsoul

"you make me question my faith" by @lazypeachsoul

babysitting by @osferth

baby fever by ↑

the river by ↑

all's fair by @mischiefmanaged71

late night idea by @lauwrite1225

tinderbox of a heart by @aphroditesmoon

losing my religion by @kitkatscabinet

your hurts are my hurts by ↑

what good neighbors do by @polkadotsocks1993

because of you by @ultraintrovertedgryffindor

[ sihtric ]

unattainable by @mystic-shadows42

sleepless nights by @lauwrite1225

entertaining royalty by @lady-writes20

[ aemond targaryen ]

i know yours by @bookofbonbon

through the ages by ↑

"just the two of us" by @spideymatcha

to make them love me (and make it seem effortless) by @dango-milk

see no evil, hear no evil by @dilemmaontwolegs

the center of my own existence by @awearywritersworld

little women by @aemonds-war-crime

this fic by ↑

bane of my existence, object of my desire by @jasonsmirrorball

i would die for you in secret by @aemondsbeloved

with him, at all times by @theold-ultraviolence

in a week by @womprat00

she was lovin' me, she was wantin' me by @astrumark

her voice by @targaryenrealnessdarling

dragonstone hollow by @oneeyedvisenya

[ jacaerys velaryon ]

under the weirwood by @targaryen-jpg

unexpected visit by @jacesbeloved

firstborn iii by @archiveofthe-dragon

replaceable by @aphroditesmoon

the day the sun met the sea by @dearsnow

[ aegon ii targaryen ]

early riser by @solacestyles

as you are by @sunnysidelucida

earn it by @piecksbitch16

good grief by @bambimunson

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes by @syzrina

[ multi ]

living with the greens by @syzrina

playing with fire by @sapphire-writes

[ tom bennett ]

literally everything written from @mischiefmanaged71

this fic by @osferth

[ gaius ]

labyrinth by @bornbetter

border credit: @urdadsfavegirlblogger @firefly-graphics