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mismatched-sockss · 9 months ago

Text

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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rui-drawsbox · 1 year ago

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remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played

all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!

Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over

Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha

i miss my wife man(Marius)

Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it

Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD

10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek

A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever

last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.

Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself

i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)

#got sting by the nostalgia mosquito #thinking about it i kinda want to play huellitas magicas again #mystic messenger #mysme #tears of themis #rosa tears of themis #ephemeral #its that the right tag?#huellitas magicas #a3 #a3! act! addict! actors!#izumi tachibana #obey me #obey me shall we date #otome game #tot

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starboye · 3 months ago

Text

starring: lip gallagher x male reader

request: one could be that the reader has been long term friends with lip and is getting ready for a date. The reader has never kissed anyone and suggest if he could practice on him. Hesitant at first, they agree and innocent pecks slowly turns into aggressive tongue kissing which turns into the reader canceling their date and losing their v-card to Lip.

warnings: smut, virgin!reader, cursing, unprotected sex, creampie

directors note: i did start this like two months ago and am just now coming back to it

you hadn't been on a date in forever let alone kiss anyone so you were pretty nervous when getting ready for your date with some dude you met, heart thudding against your chest as you looked in the mirror to check if you looked good enough when you heard a knock at the door, you turned around to see lip standing there.

you and lip had been friends since you were kids and he's been with you from the rejections to the many guys you've had crushes on to now seeing you dress up for a date "who's the guy now" lip asks crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door "what if it's a woman" you say making lip laugh.

"i met him at the alibi the other night and we decided to go on a date" you say walking past lip to your room and putting on some shitty cologne "is the really the greenest flag, a guy you met at a bar" lip questions with a raised eyebrow "well i am pretty nervous" you say.

"and why is that" lip asks moving to lean on your bedroom door "i mean i've never kissed a guy before" you nervously admit making lips eyes go wide "you're telling me out of all the dates you've gone you never kissed them" lip snickers "oh fuck you, you fucking dick" you laugh throwing a pillow at him which he catches it easily.

"i mean... i could help you" lip lowly says rubbing the nape of his neck, you nap your head to him with furrowed eyebrows "what" you say trying not to sound to confused "i could help you practice your first kiss" lip explains "and why would i do that with you" you ask standing up and closing the distance between you too.

"c'mon you know i'm good for it, ive made out with lots of girls and you know im not gonna get like a boner or anything" lip says "yeah you may have kissed some girls but you've never kissed a guy" you retort now only a couple inches away from him "well then we could both be each others first isn't that just dandy" you teasingly say, lip heart pounding against his chest as your face moved closer to his.

"okay then i'll do it" you agree "alright" lip shakily says as you lean into kiss him, your lips now touching in a tender kiss, lips mind was running with so many thoughts as you both stood there for some time in the kiss before pulling off to breath, you looked at each other for some time, his eyes filling with desire.

before he grabbed you by the waist and began kissing you once more, little peck kisses that quickly turn into making out, lip pulling off his shirt and you doing the same, then you both take off your pants leaving you both in your underwear.

at this point you weren't even thinking straight, to drunk of lips sweet kisses that felt so hungry with desire but also lust, he pushes you onto the bed now towering over you before you both pull out of the make out to finally breath "what happend to not getting a boner" you ask with a chuckle "ive got more than a boner now" lip says pulling off his underwear and kicking them the corner of the room.

"well then let me help you" you say pulling back into the kiss as lip pulls your underwear off, running his rough fingers along your hole making a shudder run up your spin "fuck me" you whisper wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss "i thought you had a date" lip chuckles "he can fuck off for all i care" you say.

he squeezes some lube onto his hand and lathers it over his cock and presses it into your hole, a drawled out wince coming out of your mouth in an instant "fuck you're big" you say, hands planted on this thighs to steady him "well thank you" he laughs and you smack his leg lightly, until he makes it all the way in, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he slowly moved his hips into your ass.

heavy groans leave his mouth as he fucks into you, you were gripping his cock so well, maybe a little to well because it felt you were about to snap his cock off "you gotta calm down a little or you're gonna fucking kill me" he jokes "well i am a virgin lip so sorry im not used to taking dick" you quip back agitated a little making lip snicker a little before leaning down and kissing you again.

you melt into lip's lips (pun intended) and your hole becomes a little looser due to the calming feeling, lips hips resuming their original movement, his thrusting fucking the moans out of your mouth and into his, sweet nothings flowing from his mouth your ear "you're doing so good m'kay, you like this?" he asks, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as tears flow down your face "i fucking love it" you choke out.

"want me to cum in you" he asks, his thrusts becoming more aggressive as he comes closer to his release and all you could do was nod at his question, to out of it to even think of words to speak, and soon lip is cumming in your hole, filling you to the brim with his arousal before pulling out and falling next to you "how was that" lip asks with a grin "great" you pant.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #gay smut #x male smut #x male #gay #male reader #bottom male reader #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher imagine #shameless

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 1 year ago

Note

idk if this counts for headcanon, but since Harveston event is here

How would boys react to their girlfriend casually walking by on the snow and then she takes next step the snow collapses and she gets stuck in the snow, her fohead bearly vissible above it, and she can't get out 😂? ( it's something that happend to me and it was hollirious to me and my familly)

for Idia, Jade, Sebek, Epel and since I have one more lets add Malleus (even though he isn't originally there 😂)

also ..if it's not a problem could I just ask if my previous asks made it in ? I was just wondering if I didn't submit them past the time when asks were open 😅

Epel Felmier:

Epel knows the perils of snow banks more than anyone, having to dig his way out of a few when he was younger. He’s still surprised to be on the other end of it, with you in view one second then gone the next. He seemed more panicked than you, the trapped, displaying snow as quickly as he could to lead you to freedom. He sighed in relief when he confirmed you were just fine, seeming nervous that you might not like the area as much because of the experience.

Idia Shroud:

Idia is immediately alarmed when he doesn’t feel you at his side, head whipping around as he wondered if you finally decided to break up with him and leave him in an icy tundra to deal with his feelings. When he looks down and sees you buried deep in the snow his panic gained more experience, leveling up as he already concluded you were suffering from hypothermia, never meant to feel the warmth of the sun again. He has enough sense to help you out, only greeted with your nonsensical question of what might happen if him and his hair were the ones buried in the snow.

Jade Leech:

Jade would check if you were okay, the grin on his face betraying his concerned tone. He wondered how dangerous snow could be, contemplating unnecessary questions like if someone could drown in snow if left there long enough or if the cold would get to them first. Once you’re safe he stated the cold isn’t that bad, and that it was good practice before he dragged you into the depths of the ocean (to meet his parents, of course).

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus at least showed enough care to pull you out of your icy prison before laughing at you. Thankfully, seeing a smile on his face and hearing his deep chuckle distracted you entirely from being embarrassed. You’d probably dive in headfirst again if you’d get the same reaction out of him. Malleus offered his arm, telling you to stick close as he didn’t want to lost you in another snow pile.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek nearly looked you over but did a double take as snow shifted, calling your name in shock. He, no hesitation, reached into the snow to hoist you out, not even considering the use of magic. He proceeded to brush you off, pushing all snow to the ground until you looked fresh, like you had just walked outside. It was nice that he cared but you still felt embarrassed when he scolded you about watching your step.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Epel Felmier #Idia Shroud #Jade Leech #Malleus Draconia #Sebek Zigvolt #Epel Felmier x Reader #Idia Shroud x Reader #Jade Leech x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader

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gracie-eilish · 16 days ago

Text

Peachy🧡✨🍑 pt. 2

an: here she is y'all. i was NOT expecting all the excitement from part one so thank you for that!🥹 that was so exciting to see!! im not used to writing any kind of smut, so please forgive any bumps in the road if you find any🥺 i’m trying over here!🫣🤪 anyways, i hope you like it!!

warnings: smut, fingering (r! receiving)👀, billie being a total flirt cause duh

It had been about a week since you last saw Billie, but for some reason you felt like no time had passed. Because for you at least, you'd subconsciously spent every day with her since that night. Her little flirts and nicknames had been ringing in your mind, making you blush and your heart skip a beat even just thinking about it. In fact, you couldn't even look at a peach without your breath catching. And don't even mention what happend at night when you were alone with your thoughts...

Tonight your friends were all getting together again but this time at Billie's place. You guys all rotated around apartments so it wasn't one person's responsibility to host everyone. You were already in the area so you decided to head over a little early, wanting to return the favor of Billie helping you clean up the other night, hoping you can help set things up tonight.

You gave yourself one last glance in the car's mirror before reaching to open the car door. You stopped yourself remembering your mini perfume in your purse. You spritzed some vanilla and peach scented perfume, your signature scent, onto your pulse points, and a few extra sprays on your neck before tossing the bottle back into your purse and getting out of the car.

You weren't deliberately planning for something to happen tonight... but if something did you wouldn't be mad, your little friendly crush was growing to be not so friendly anymore.

Within seconds of you ringing the doorbell, the door flew open revealing Billie. She had a surprised but sultry smile on her face.

"Hi peach," she said. “You’re here early! D’ya miss me that much?” Her words sent a shiver down your spine and a flush to your face.

You giggled trying to brush it off. “Stop Billie. I wanted to return the favor from the other night and help you get everything ready for tonight!” You said sweetly.

So sweetly it made Billie’s heart start to melt. It was quite obvious to everyone Billie had some kind of feelings for you. And for a while Billie just thought it was her normal kind of crush on a hot girl. But recently she felt the shift too. It was something more and moments like this made it hard for her to keep up the charm.

Well, not that hard.

“God you really are an angel aren’t ya?” She said with a smirk, finally letting you into her apartment. You just giggled and continued down the hallway towards her kitchen, leaving Billie standing in the cloud of sweet peachy perfume you left in the air. Billie inhaled your sweet perfume as she shut the door and leaned back on it for a second before composing herself and making her way to the kitchen.

After a little while, the rest of your friends started to arrive, tearing the two of you apart. But Billie kept her eye on you subtly all night. She just couldn’t get over it.. The way your hair just fell perfectly over your shoulders, and the sweet freckles dotting your nose, and how the sound of your giggle could win grammys in Billie’s opinion, and that god damn sweet peach perfume that was now stuck on every surface in her apartment infiltrating her space like you were infiltrating her mind. And the sweet little looks you gave Billie right back across the room, made more than just her heart throb.

As the night grew on and conversations grew tired, someone suggested putting on a movie. More as background noise but everyone gathered around and snuggled up in their chosen spots.

Naturally Billie patted the spot next to her when you made your way over. But being the flirt she is, Billie pulled you down onto her lap (not that you were complaining), wrapping her arms around your middle as you got comfy.

“You cozy, peach?” You blushed at the nickname. You had just started to get used to the spontaneous “baby” or “mama” but having a nickname all to yourself was kind of driving you wild.

You just nodded, not trusting your voice right now. Billie hummed in satisfaction, smiling before pressing a soft kiss right below your ear making you breath hitch.

As the movie began, Billie pulled you in closer to her, your hands brushing against each other on your tummy.

The movie being a rom-com, provided the perfect backdrop for you and Billie. As the movie went on, and tensions rose, so did the tension between you and Billie. Billie's hand slowly moved under the blanket, her fingers gently brushing against your thigh. The touch was subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You bit her lip, trying to suppress a gasp, as Billie's fingers began to explore, slowly inching upwards.

Billie's touch was deliberate and teasing, making your breath catch in your throat. She knew your friends were just inches away, oblivious to the intimate game unfolding beneath the blanket. The contrast between the innocent movie and your hidden passion was exhilarating. Billie's fingers traced lazy circles on your inner thigh, her touch feather-light and teasing. Your heart raced, and your body tingled with anticipation.

"Can you stay quiet for me peachy?” Billie whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "Mm-hmm." you nodded, unable to properly speak.

“Is this okay?” Billie whispered, even the flirty little minx she was, of course made sure you were okay first. You smiled softly before nodding again, letting her continue.

Her nose nuzzled into your jaw before she pressed a few kisses there. “You always smell so good peachy,” she purred making you let out a breathy, quiet moan. Billie's fingers continued their ascent, slipping under the hem of your shorts, finding the soft lace of your panties.

With expert precision, Billie hooked her fingers into the fabric, slowly pulling it aside, exposing your folds. Your breath hitched as you felt the cool air on her sensitive skin, your body already responding to Billie's touch. Billie's fingers traced the outline of your pussy, teasing the edges, making you squirm under the blanket.

"You're so wet already, for me peach," Billie whispered, her voice dripping with desire. "I love how responsive you are mama." Your cheeks flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, knowing your friends were mere feet away, unaware of the erotic scene playing out beside them. And forget about the fact that of all the ways you thought about hooking up with Billie, this surprisingly was not one of them… not that you minded either way.

Billie's middle finger dipped into your slick heat, eliciting a soft moan that you quickly stifled with a hand over your mouth.

Billie's finger moved in slow circles, massaging your clit, her thumb pressing gently on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body trembled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to focus on the movie, but Billie's touch was too distracting, too pleasurable. You could feel your juices flowing, coating Billie's finger as she worked her magic.

“You’re doing so good baby love,” she whispered in your ear, pressing another kiss to your neck. “Being such a good girl.. bein’ such a peach.” Her words sent you into overdrive, biting down on your lip so hard you were sure you would draw blood.

As the movie's dialogue filled the room, Billie's finger slid deeper, curling upwards, searching for your sweet spot. Your breath quickened, your body tensing as you fought to keep your moans silent. Billie's thumb continued to rub circles on your clit, her touch firm and relentless. Your hips bucked involuntarily, your body betraying your attempts at control. You turned your head slightly to look at Billie who until you turned your head, looked totally un-phased while watching the movie. As if she wasn’t ravishing her complete dream girl under the blanket.

"Let go f’me, angel," Billie whispered, her voice a soft command. "I want to feel you come around my fingers." Her words were like a spell, pushing you over the edge. It was so good you heard a ringing in your ears.. wait no. You actually were hearing a ringing.

You and Billie looked away from each other towards the sound of the ringing.

Of fucking course it was your phone.

You hit decline, if it was that important they’d call back. You sheepishly apologized and giggled at your phone being so loud right in the middle of the movie. You turned your ringer off with a sigh and settled back into Billie’s lap.

She pinched your clit, sending a jolt through you, you kinda forgot her hand was still in your pants. Giggling, you snuggled back into her and her arms tightened back around you as she started to rub slow circles on you clit, building you back up.

Until your fucking phone rang again.

Well it didn’t ring, but the screen lit up with your siblings contact across the screen again. With a huff you situated your shorts and got up to leave the room to take the call. Billie followed quickly behind, watching you stumble like a baby deer a little bit. She stifled a laugh as you picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You answered with a bite in your voice. Billie came up behind you, snaking her arms back around your waist. She nuzzled her nose on your jaw before kissing the area.

“This better be fucking important,” You groaned into the phone.

🧡✨🍑🫧

an: and with that i would like to formally introduce you to evil gracie hehehe🫣🥰 do you wanna part 3???👀

#billie eilish #wlw #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x reader #fanfiction #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish smut #billie x reader #smut

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ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2 · 3 months ago

Text

Voicelines about you

Arlecchino x Reader

Includes : Tartaglia, Wanderer, Charlotte, Lynette, Lyney, Freminete, Navia, Chiory and ofc Arlecchino

Note : This has been rotting in my Samsung Notes since months lol

Tartaglia

- Have you heard about the Knaves poor spouse? Sneznayas Darling? No? Well, I have seen them only a few times since they decided to reside in Fontain. Or since she made them, it wouldn't suprise me, the woman is intimidating and knows her way with words, who knows what she did or does with them...

Wanderer

- Who? Hmmm, they usually are always by her side, she had never move them an inch from her, or atleast that was before she had them stay in Fontain. But the last time I saw them, I could swear that the ligth had dissapeared from their eyes. And who can blame them, with that wolf of a wife... hehe, she must have ripped them limp from limp by now.

Charlotte

- The Knaves spouse! Of course! They are a hard catch these days! Not that I could Photograph them though, they're the same as the Knave in that regard. If they are dead? I can assure you they are not! I always see them at the mornings when I run to work! Sometimes alone, sometimes with the Knave, but I only have ever gotten a wave out of them. Such a mysterious figure...I wish I could just get one interview, I even tried to write to them! But only the Knave responded, denying it...such a shame.

Lynette

- Huh, I will assume you got that information from Childe. 'Mother' is...different from 'Father' to say the least, they are gentler, have a softer voice. Though if you upset them, that soft voice will turn solid. I've seen it before when a few of my siblings tried to slack off to much. They are even more strict than 'Father' in some cases, but, none of us blame them and whoever talks bad about them...well...you don't wanna know.

Lyney

- So you have heard about them? Was it from the rumors that 'Father' has killed them? Or from Childe? Childe, really? Interesting. Well, when Lynette and I were younger, we have noticed that 'Father' would treat them differently. Just not in a positive ligth, while we liked them. They were... different from the other caretakers, and so we spun a little matchmaking with the help of Freminete. I remember it all quite fondly.

Freminete

- You've heard of 'Mother'? They are kind, I think. Sometimes...sometimes when I wanted to cry when I was younger, they would pull me aside and have me silently cry in their lap, even let me stain their clothes...they would never mention it to 'Father', and act as if it never happend.

Navia

- I thougth they were dead for the longest time! That was untill I overheard the Knave ask one of her soldiers to deliver the message that she'd need to stay a bit longer and for them to prepare the soldiers. I never meet them in person, but...I'd suggest you to be careful with them too. I don't think a Harbinger would choose their Partner ligthly.

Chiori

- I am not really one for rumors, let us just say that I thougth they were made up, but that was untill they came into my shop just five minutes after I opened it on a Monday. They were very adamant about the fabrics I should use and what they wanted, also having their measurements along with them already. I like customer's that know what they want. How I knew that they were the 'Mother'? The presence of the Knave in front of the shop was a big indicator for it, as for some other clues, like the ring, and the fact that they kissed, and maybe because they called her their Husband.

Arlecchino

- My spouse, of course, I've gathered that you have already heard about them.

What I can say about them? Well, as the 'Mother' it is their duty to stay by my side and support me in my work. They do so quite well. You say that, that sounds as if they function as the 'First Lady' or 'First spouse' in this case? Well, I suppose that's true.

- Oh? You wanna know even more about them? Maybe I should get you to meet them then, they have been asking me if they could meet that famous traveler everyone has been talking about, we could arrange something, just be careful, they have been quite timid lately. But I'm sure you'll get along well.

#genshin impact #arlechinno genshin #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino x you #tartaglia genshin impact #wanderer genshin #charlotte genshin impact #genshin lynette #lyney genshin #genshin freminet #genshin navia #genshin chiori

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timkontheunsure · 5 months ago

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Blitz's has dyslexia 🙂

Him singing it is just so cute.

He dose know the alphabet as Blitz gets it right right after this. So this is an ordering issue.

(I still have to use the alphabet song to get it right, and worked at a library for a while and used to tutor English).

Dyscalculia is a fairly normal side effect of dyslexia, and is under the same umbrella term.

This can make estimating groups on the fly very difficult.

Blitz struggles to switch language tracks, and doesn't pick up that Loona's making a joke out of he skinning the manly meat with the manly men.

Blitz is normally great at these sorts of dirty jokes, but because it was unintentional he doesn't spot it.

This is because being serious and puns/jokes are sorted in a different 'box'.

Stols - Blitz spell a lot thing as they sound, with a few transportion errors like night to nihgt, and some typos like missing the o in sorry, or missing words out.

As he says Sto-lus, that gets shortened to Stol's when said quickly. It's a cute nickname. 🙂

He also occasionally reverses letters.

(oh look a nice wee pile of evidence).

Transcription - the case files are written by Blitz dictating to Moxxie. This is normal adaptation for working around this disability.

Ok addressing the elephant in the room, cus someone always says it. "But Blitz is just uneducated".

He got in and went to collage. (Dropping out was probably to do with the fire. Blitz is met to have been around 19-20 when that happend).

And Fizz, who he grew up with and worked the same job; has perfect spelling. They would have had the same people teaching them.

Honestly this idea bugs me a lot, because it's equating being poor to a lack of education. And then spelling proficiency as a stand in for intelligence level.

We saw this when people were trying to claim Blitz was too thick to use the word supremacist. 🤦

This ties in to whole host of classist and ableist tropes.

Blitz can with alot of effort Sometimes spell correctly, when it's very important. (For Fizz and Loona).

It takes 4x as much energy for dyslexics to do these tasks. It's common to sometimes get it right, but not others.

Dyslexia is kind of short working memory issue.

Working memory is the time you can hold something like an image, or a string of numbers, in your head before it fades.(Human ram). If it's short it can be extremely difficult to get it into long term memory.

So rote tasks with nonsensical none phonetical rules don't stick well. (Eg Fonetic).

Blitz getting it right some of the time, when trying hard at the hospital tracks. Cus he doesn't want to stress Loona out more.

The 'wiring' of dyslexic brains also makes it difficult, because reading and writing are processed across both hemispheres. Nerotypicals all do that one side, which is quicker as less far for the impulses to travel.

We also don't get the visual overlay trick that alot of Nerotypicals get. The thing were you can see the spelling in your imagination and copy that pattern to spell it right every time. (Anyone able to do this is so cheesy 😛).

And lastly Blitz talks a mile a minute, but only write a few short replies to Stolas' wall of texts. (Which are probably tricky to read as of bad formatting).

Here's hoping Stolas gifts him a better phone with a good spell check, and speech to text at somepoint. Then he gets more than just memes.

#helluva boss #brandon rogers #helluva spoilers #This got long even for me lol

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docdudo · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!! I want to start by saying I absolutely love your writing! It’s great writing and is pretty good for me to understand (English isn’t my first language).

I just wanted to ask, How do you think poly hybrid 141 would react to adopted reader getting sick?? And I mean really sick, like a good case of the flu that takes a whole week, like 7 days and antibiotics to go away??

I could see them being so worried and stressed, taking her to doctors and everything because they get better in 24-48 hours with their fancy strong immune systems! I also wonder if adopted reader would be confused by going to the doctors, because if anything happend while in previous foster homes, she was told to just figure it out and get better on her own.

You are right about one thing: hybrids have a better immune system than humans do!

Humans are considered weak and frail in every sense of the word. That includes their health. In fact, a human's health is so discussed that specialists from other races all study the human body constantly so they would be able to treat one, would they ever needed it.

(Because of the lack of total humans on this universe, it's rare to find a human doctor, for example. So, other races have to cover for them in a lot of different fields. There are programs and organizations in this world that entierelly foucused on making sure the few humans that exist would get the care they need. So, for example, if you are a doctor and also specialize on taking care of humans beside some other race, you would probably be paid more by the governement).

Now, little reader getting sick? Like, really sick? Yeah, that house is turning upside down. As hybrids, the whole 141 pride themselves on being good caretakers and providers. They also know how much more frail humans are compared to them.

But know is different from experiencing.

Little reader would start off with the typical signs of the flu. Stuffy nose, throat a bit sore, a sluggish body. All that. But, as we all know, it's very quick for sickness to develop. And in the spam of a night, little reader is waking up with a high fever and a weak, useless body.

The 141 would notice almost immediatly. They can smell how sick you are, even from your room. That weird, almost sour smell that we can usually smell when we blow our nose.

Before you know it, you would probably be in Price's or Soap's arms, surronded by their warmth, hearing their cooed words that make zero to almost no sense to your sick and hazy mind.

And at first, they are very much panicking. They are calling the rest of their pack while cooing and conforting you, Laswell being the one to tell them to immediatly take you to the doctor.

And they do, everyone going on the car together, because if one of them had anything to do that day, it's immediatly getting canceled. They would still hold you close, on their laps, and every single one of them are cooing quietly at you. Even Ghost. Tho his "cooing" sounds more like his normal voice, just extra quiet and gentler than usual.

And it's true, you're not that used to going to the doctor. You usually never get that sick, and as a foster kid, it just doesn't happen often.

But, you were feeling pretty hazy, mind clouded and feverish. You barely remember going that first time to the doctor with them.

You barely remember the kind doctor that was trying his best to easy your foster parents' worries, and all the examination he did on you, even if you couldnt cooperate much with how confused you were.

You certainly got treated at the hospital and monitored until your fever came down a bit. After that, they send you back home with your parents, who had gotten a lot of new instructions and medicines to properly take care of you at home.

You took almost a full week to finally start getting better.

They would't let you sleep in your room anymore, since you got sick, you had been sleeping on their shared nest, with them. They would constantly check on your breathing and heartbeats, and would even feed you themselves and make sure you were plenty hydrated.

And even after you got better, they would still be extra careful and overbearing for a little while longer.

You can be sure that they would be taking extra measures now so that you never get sick again.

#cod #cod mw2 #dad!gaz #dad!ghost #dad!price #dad!soap #dragon!price #foster child!reader #harpy!gaz #hybrid 141 #wraith!ghost #werewolf!soap #poly!141 #poly141

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silversurfersx · 7 months ago

Text

Films of Anger

part 2

sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader

summary: brocedes 2.0 basically. childhood best friend's fight on track turns into a fight in real life

warning: light angst with a bit of fluff sprinkled in xD

"Papa, let me go!" Michael Schumacher's arms around you were the only thing that stopped you from attacking Sebastian right now. You fought against the stone grip around your body, trying to reach for Sebastian, who was held back by Kimi, though he wasn't exactly fighting much against the Fin's grip.

Michael moved his head down so it was leveled with your own. "You have to calm down." His usually soft voice when he spoke to you, was stoic. You were scared to look at him after hearing it so close to you.

"He almost killed me!" You insisted, voice firey as you stared Sebastian down. Your statement was followed by aggressive shouting from both you and Sebastian, catching the attention from all around. Although most of the people couldn't understand the angry german words leaving either of your lips, the tone spoke more than words could.

"If you drove properly, neither of us would have DNF'd." Sebastian shouted. Once again you started to fight your fathers iron grip, trying to fight Sebastian. You heard your father huff, and felt your feet leave the ground as the man behind you lifted you up in the air, to carry you off.

"Papa!" You shouted, wiggling your body. "Let me down!"

"I let you down if you promise not to try and beat up Sebastian and come and talk to me." He announced carrying you around the paddock. The more distance he brought between you and Sebastain, the more embarrassment started to fill you after noticing the many judging looks people threw at you. Cameras were locked onto the two of you, filming the whole ordeal.

"I promise. I swear, we can talk, just please let me down." You said quickly. Michael nodded and let you down, his hands though stayed put on your shoulders to make sure that you won't run off.

"Do you want me to grap your mother?" Michael asked, looking down at you, but you just shook your head. You didn't want to see the disappointing look in her eyes, knowing that she probably saw the whole scene live on TV in the garage. "No." "

Alright." Michael nodded, one arm thrown around your shoulders, the other gripping the other. Silently he led you through the paddock. You kept your head down, still feeling eyes and cameras set on you, trying to get a look at your face. Your father threw each and everyone a look that silenced them without doubt.

He was well aware of the stupidity of the situation you and Sebastian acted upon, but he didn't think that it was anybody's business to know what truly went on.

When you passed the garages you frowned, thinking that Michael was gonna drag you into a silent corner of the Ferrari or Mercedes garage, but your journey went on towards the motor homes. Pushing into the Ferrari Motor home, you went through the halls up to your drivers room.

When the door closed your shoulders dropped, sluggish you moved to the couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions. You felt your father's presence standing by the door and without a look, you knew what he looked like. Like waves, the questions rolled off of him.

Trying to waste time before you had to speak, you opened your driving suit to let your body cool down from the heated situation.

"What happend?" His voice broke the tension. You thought you were prepared for anger in his voice, but all you heard was sympathy, and that broke you. Tears filled your eyes, while you tries to keep it together you looked up through swimming sight. Your voice was on the verge of breaking as you spoke.

"I messed up, Papa." Michael sighed at the sight of you. He wanted to be angry, but how could he when you looked so broken. He shook his head, moving to sit next to you and pull you in his arms.

"What happened?" He asked again head on top of your own. You had your head pressed against his chest, breathing heavily.

"I think I broke our friendship off." You muttered thinking about what happened just after the race.

1996

The first time you met Sebastian was when your were seven years old. He was nine and just won a race. Your father was the one handing out the trophies.

You weren't old enough to drive in the same league as Sebastian yet, but you were always tagging alongside your father when it came to anything racing related. It was your thing. Papa and Y/N's thing.

Racing was what connected you. The hours you spent in your garage building on your kart alongside your father. Nothing brought you more contentment than that.

It was lunch time when you were standing by a concession stand waiting for your food, when little Sebastian approached to order his own.

"What did you get?" He asked noticing your wide eyes looking up at the counter, waiting impatiently on your food. When the little blonde boy spoke, you looked over. An adorable smile graced his face when he noticed your wide eyes.

"Currywurst. For me and my Papa." You had announced to him, giving a toothy grin. Sebastian nodded excitedly.

"It's his favourite." You added whispering as if it was the most important secret. Sebastian laughed leaning over to you to answer in the same hushed voice. "It's my favourite as well."

Giggling filled the air around the two of you.

"I just saw you race." You told him after the giggles stopped. "I think you were really good, and so did my Papa."

The blonde boy blushed lightly looking down at his shoes.

"Thank you."

"Did you race as well, or a sibling?" He asked but you shook your head. "I do race, but I'm not old enough to race with you. I'm here because my Papa was giving out the trophies."

Sebastian halted, his eyes were wide as he stared at you. You titled your head at him, although you were used to these types of reactions from people, it never seized to amaze you what kind of presence your fathers name had on people.

"Your father is Michael Schumacher?" Sebastian stuttered, making you nod. Humming you agreed with a bright smile. Pride swelling in your chest at the thought of your dad and his impression on the young boy in front of you.

"That is so cool." Sebastian exclaimed, jumping on the spot. You giggled at his excitement, listening on to Sebastian's words. "He's my hero. And one day, I'll be just like him."

That was your first of many meetings with the blonde haired boy you would call your best friend for many years. At one point you started karting together, slowly moving up the leagues until you both landed in formula one.

Sebastian had already been in formula one. Having moved from Toro Rosso to RedBull, when you finally joined formula one as well, signing your contract with Ferrari. The announcement didn't just make you beyond happy, but Sebastian and Michael as well. It was what you all had dreamed about, the three of you driving together in formula one. Sebastian and you driving alongside your childhood hero. Driving alongside your best friend and your father.

It was like a fairytale come to life. And even the hate and doubts from the outside world couldn't kill the joy you felt. It was all magical, until the inevitable had to happen.

It was always a fight on track. Even if you were friends beside it, on track everyone was your enemy. And especially when you were young and wanted to prove something, that could mean nothing less of reckless behaviour. Sebastian was a model example of exactly that. It was an one on one between the two of you.

You were leading, Sebastian wanted through. Obviously you didn't want that so you defended. And that was the moment when it all went down. You were coming out of a curve. Sebastain was on your right, overstearing, you still weren't sure if that was on purpose, but almost knocking you off the track.

Trying to keep your car steady, your front wing interlinked with his car. You both noticed too late what was happening, simultaneously trying to pull away from the others, and knocking you both out, while trying to get away from the other.

In your mind it was clearly Sebastian's fault for overstearing. In Sebastian's it was you for hitting his car trying to get back in track.

Michael sighed. He hadn't had time to watch the footage of what exactly happened, yet. All he knew was that the two of them had an accident and DNF'd no one told him what exactly happened. He was just on his way to rewatch the accident and to look for his kid to make sure she was alright when he came across the screaming match.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." He told you.

You shook your head against him, tightening your arms around the man. "That wasn't the bad part. I tried to talk to him after, but he was mad, Papa. Like proper mad."

When you were wheeled back into the garage, you couldn't stop tapping the wheel out of impatience. You were itching to give Sebastian a piece of your mind.

What in the world was he thinking, trying to push you off the track. Was he crazy?

When everything was good you stepped out of your car, took off your helmet and the HANS, before storming off. A few of the Ferrari mechanics tried to stop you, but you moved out of their way, before running off towards the RedBull garage.

It was the last lap, how could Sebastian be so stupid to risk it all at the last lap.

From afar you could see the grimace your friend had on his face as he spoke to his engineer. When he saw you, his brows furrowed and his face formed into a grimace, similar to the one you had.

"Sebastian, are you fucking crazy or what?!" You shouted in german fron afar as you approached the boy. The blonde looked at you angrily.

"Me? What were you thinking crashing right into me? This isn'tfucking bumper cars."

"Yes, exactly, it isn't." You agreed, stopping beside him right in front of the RedBull garage. "So why in the world did you think knocking me off track was a good idea?"

"Knocking you off track. Fucking hell, there was enough space a fucking hippo could have walked past." He hissed back, eyes filled with an angry fire. "It's your fault, you can't fucking drive. The only reason your even in formula one is because your father is fucking Michael Schumacher."

"Oh, let's be fucking real, Sebastian." You shouted. "You know that that is not the reason, I fought for my place, just like you did. And if you look at the listing you would see that I've got the numbers to prove it, because I am in front of you."

"Oh, piss of will you." He shouted back.

Neither of you noticed it, but your voices hot louder and angrier the more you spoke catching the attention of many bystanders and drivers getting back to the pits after finishing the race.

"If you think you're so much better then get on with it, will you. But I will prove to you that I am much better than you are, little rich kid"

You saw red at his indication. Of course you had the money, you knew your family was rich, but you told the boy often enough that you hated being reduced to simply that. That the thought of being reduced to only being a spoiled little kid was something you despised.

That was the moment you tried to leap at him, though Kimi Räikkönen pulled him back before you could get to him, while you felt your fathers arms around you.

As you told him exactly what happened you felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was angry with Sebastian about talking to you like that, but he tried to hide it.

"Oh, Schatz." He mused strocking a hand over your hair. "I'm sure it is only half as bad. You both probably just need some time to cool off and the you speak again."

Michael was trying to be reassuring. Always the positive thinker, the joy bringer. He was always trying to see the best in people and he knew that Sebastian wasn't a bad person. He's known him since he was a little boy. Michael hoped that it really was all just because of the heat of the moment. Even if the words spoken were cruel in nature, he hoped that they had not broken your friendship, which had gone through so much already.

"It's gonna be alright, Maus." He muttered into your hair.

#sebastian vettel x reader #michael schumacher #sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction

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desi2go · 6 months ago

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Stealing the fate

pairing: prince Hongjoong x lady of court reader

warnings: smut, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, royalty au

I finally tried something new! So please go easy on me! Let me know if I should write things like that more often <3

In the kingdom of Outlaw, where mountains kissed the skies and rivers sang the songs of old, you found yourself bound by fate's relentless hand. A marriage with Prince Hongjoong, a spirited and headstrong young man, had been caused by scandalous and unexpected actions.

Nevertheless, your fates entwined, not through love, but through the prince's transgression. As his sister's best friend, you often searched her company at the wedding. Not that your husband would mind. He was somewhere near the drinks, talking to different people, not sparing you a glance after the wedding ceremony was officially over.

You tried to be cold, letting the fact that your husband hated your company not affect you, but the truth is that you were interested in this handsome man for a long time now. Heck, you had the biggest crush on him. It hurt you more than you thought, even fueled your rage. You never imagined a happy and lovingly marriage but you had hoped that he would at least not dislike you. But he couldn't even stand being near you.

His sister knew about your feelings and supported you from the start even though she never understood why you fell in love with his brother. She did her best to distract you for the whole event.

With each minute that passed your consummation got closer and closer. You feared what would happen behind closed doors when you two were the only ones in a room. You weren't afraid of the general consummation, you knew what was expected of you and you heard the married ladies on the court speaking about the act itself. You rather dreaded the proximity and the awkwardness.

But you couldn't do anything against it. And when the huge clock struck twelve, you knew what was about to come when Hongjoong walked towards you, looked so magical like an angel in his bespoke suit. He took your hand while looking to the wall behind you, like you weren't even there. That fueled your rage even more. He couldn't even look you in the eyes. Is he ashamed of you?

"My lady, shall we retire to our room?" He asked.

"Of course, my husband" you answered with clenched teeth. You followed him willingly out of the great hall to your room. No words passed his lips, the only contact between you was his hand in yours.

As soon as you stepped into the huge bedroom, he let go of your hand like the skin to skin contact burned him, grabbing a glass from the table, filled it with something alcoholic and chugged it down immediately.

"So this it?" You asked fiery.

"What?" His attention finally concentrated on you, yet he didn't look you in the eyes.

"If this is what you call our marriage now? Pacing around in separate rooms? Running from our forced union?" You exclaimed, rubbing your temple.

He scoffed and turned around again to fill his glass for another drink.

"Please, forgive me your grace" you added sarcastically.

"Your grace?" He shot back, agitated, turning to you again.

"Can't even look me in the face"

He stepped closer, claiming that this was not true. You chuckled dry. Of course it wasn't.

"And now I must lay in the mess you made!" You said angrily.

"The mess we made" he stated, crossing his arms and taking another step towards you to intimidate you.

"It was your mistake. You stepped on my dress and made me fall" you corrected him, retelling what happend at the festival of lanterns two weeks ago. The anger still ran through your veins. You felt like you were talking to a wall, the only thing that changed was the tension. It became almost unbearable.

"I'm so sorry I stole your fate" he snarled ironically, eyes darkening with the rage that fueled within him.

"Oh, I am sorry that I stole your fate!" You screamed, tears of anger running over your face.

"And now you're forced to love a man you hate" Hongjoong stated loudly and you thought you could see signs of sadness in his eyes.

"I never said that I hated you!" You exclaimed, realising how close he had gotten to you. You were almost chest to chest with him. He nearly towered over you and you could even smell his expensive cologne.

You thought that he would scream or reject you since you nearly admitted your love for him. But you didn't expect him to crash his lips against yours roughly. Teeth crashing together as he pushed you against the door, his hands possessively on your waist, neading the skin underneath your wedding dress. Your breaths were hot on each others skin as you pulled him even closer to you when you realised what he was doing.

One hand grabbed your hair and pulled your head backwards against the door, earning a sweet moan from you while he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced around each other in a fiery fight. You let your hand travel to his own fluffy hair, tugging at some strands while your other hand clutched the material of the suit on his shoulder.

Something hard pressed against your lower stomach and you moaned into his mouth when you realised what that was. With one quick motion, he grabbed your thighs and pushed you in his arms. Your legs clinged around his waist as he carried you safely in his arms to the bed, laying you down in the middle. He immediately hoovered over you, consuming your whole being in a passionate kiss.

He interrupted the kiss again, his hands travelling over your sides and grabbing the fabric.

"I love that dress. Let's destroy it" he moaned in between the kisses. With one quick motion, the fabric of the expensive dress gave away and your gown was splitted in half, revealing your white underwear. Hongjoong growled and pressed kisses along your neck to your collarbone while you clawed at his shoulders when another sinful moan escaped you.

Even through the trousers of his suit, you could feel his growing bulge pressing against your upper thighs. He quickly undressed himself, the suit and his chemise fell forgotten to the floor, leaving him just in his boxer.

Your underwear quickly followed as he planted a hot trail of kisses on your body. You moaned and pressed your body against him. His boxers soon followed the rest of his clothes, making a pile next to the bed.

He grunted as he rubbed your clit with his cock, gathering your wetness near your entrance. With one final look, he reassured himself and pushed his cock inside with one full thrust, making you choke out a broken sob at the sudden stretch. The pain was uncomfortable and some tears gathered in your eyes. But the pain mixed with the pleasure made your brain go all mushy. All you could think about was the way his cock filled you up and the way his hands gripped your waist as he tried his best to not start thrusting into you already, hiding his head in your hair.

Eventually, you relaxed slowly around him, moaning at the completely new feeling of being so full. That was all he needed to hear before he started thrusting in and out of you. First in a slow rhythm and when he noticed how you clenched around him in pleasure, he began building a much quicker pace, trying his best to not break it and absolutely ruin you right there.

“fuck, you’re taking me so well.” his hands reached out for yours, holding onto them and interlocking his fingers with yours. Hongjoong's pace was starting to get a bit rougher, hitting that spot inside you with each thrust, making you cry out in lust.

His lips were against your neck, placing hot, wet kisses on your sensitive skin. His thrusts started getting sloppier as you were both about to reach your highs. The knot in your stomach became unbearable, letting you whine in a high tone and clenching around his cock.

You felt impossibly tighter, messaging Hongjoong with your walls. You were driving him insane.

"Fuck y/n, m’close. so close.” he grunted, holding your hands tightly. Your cunt squeezed around him one last before he released his load deep inside you, your walls fluttering around his cock. he collapsed onto you, rightfully breathless.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking you deep into the eyes. Exhaustion and love was displayed in them, telling more than words. Your husband leaned down again, capturing your lips with his while slipping out if you.

Careful he cleaned you with the soft fabric of his chemise that he had grasped from the floor and cuddled closer to you while pulling the covers over your slowly cooling bodies.

"Good night my dear Y/n" he whispered when he felt you drifting off to sleep.

#hongjoong #hongjoong angst #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader angst #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong ateez #hongjoong smut

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magnificentmiraclenacho · 14 days ago

Text

The sister of the winner

Part 8= What does he want

Summary= When gi hun wants to take down the games he faces a lot of problems. But one problem he also has is his relationship with his sister minji ( reader ). Gi hun dosent want to tell her about the games do to her innocent. But what happends when the salesman lores her into the games, and the siblings finds them self fighting for their lifes.

-----

Gi hun pov:

Gi-hun leaned against the cold steel wall, his eyes scanning the dimly lit dormitory. The muffled snores of other players filled the room, a fragile peace hanging in the air. he was in a night watch, and Young-il had joined him, the two keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to stir up chaos while the members of their team slept.

The tension in the air was suffocating, even in the silence. Gi-hun crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw set in frustration.

"You look worse than usual," Young-il muttered, his voice low enough not to wake anyone. He stood a few feet away, his gaze focused on the far end of the room.

Gi-hun blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He turned to Young-il, his face softening into an exhausted smile. "I didn’t think that was possible," he joked weakly, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes.

Young-il sighed, stepping closer. "Seriously. You’ve been more on edge than usual. What’s bothering you?" Now just looking at gi hun.

Gi-hun hesitated, glancing toward the bed where Y/N was sound asleep. For a moment, he said nothing, debating whether or not to voice his thoughts.

"It’s about her," he finally admitted, nodding toward Y/N’s sleeping form.

Young-il frowned, following gi hun gaze. "What about her?" He said sofly.

Gi-hun exhaled slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. "Something about how she got recruited here doesn’t make sense."

Young-il tilted his head, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

Gi-hun glanced around to ensure no one was listening before lowering his voice. "When you got recruited, did you play ddakji with the salesman?"

Young-il raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Yeah, I did. Lost more times than I care to admit. Why?" Smiling a little.

Gi-hun’s expression darkened. "She didn’t."

Young-il’s confusion deepened. "What do you mean she didn’t?"

Gi-hun leaned closer, his voice dropping even further. "She told me the salesman didn’t even play the game with her. He just… started a conversation. Asked her about her day, how she was feeling, gave her a few tips and conforthing words. Then, before he left, he handed her the card. Thats it"

Young-il’s eyes widened in shock. "Wait. What?"

Gi-hun nodded grimly. "Everyone else here got recruited the same way—ddakji. But not her. It’s like…" He hesitated, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. "It’s like he was targeting her specifically. Like she.. she didin't have to prove her worth to come. Maybe they even wanted her to come ."

Young-il shook his head, struggling to process the information. "Why would they do that? Why would they break the pattern for her?"

Gi-hun’s jaw tightened, and he stared at the ground thinking about the situation "I... i don't know. Or i don't wan't to know" he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "But it’s been bothering me ever since she told me. It’s almost like… like the Front Man is messing with me. Testing me. Making me weak and giving me a reason to not do what i need to do"

Young-il frowned, his gaze darting to Y/N. "You think she’s connected to the Front Man somehow?"

Gi-hun shook his head. "No no. I don’t think she knows anything about it. But I can’t shake the feeling that she’s here for a reason. A reason they’re not telling us."

The two men fell silent, the weight of the conversation settling heavily between them.

Young-il finally broke the silence, his voice quiet. "If you’re right, then we need to keep an even closer eye on her. If they’ve got some plan for her, it can’t be good."

Gi-hun nodded, his gaze fixed on Y/N’s sleeping form. "Yeah," he said softly. "I won’t let anything happen to her. No matter what they’re planning." Gi hun closing his eyes to breath and young il looking at her smiling... meybe even a little bit too much.

As the two men resumed their watch, Gi-hun couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. The games were already a nightmare, but the thought of Y/N being caught in the middle of some larger scheme that he created made his blood run cold.

---

Y/n pov

The soft, chime-like melody grated on Y/N’s ears as she stirred awake. That haunting song was the first thing she heard every morning, a cruel reminder of the hellhole she was trapped in.

Her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light of the dormitory. She quickly realized she wasn’t where she had fallen asleep last night. Her aching body rested on a proper bed, a luxury she didn’t remember securing for herself.

Sitting up slowly, her gaze swept across the room. The other players were beginning to stir. She looked next to her where jeong bae was laying. He smiled at her and asked if shes feeling better. She nodded and smiled back. Yn started to look around.

As her eyes fell on Gi-hun and Young-il in the corner, their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Both men turned their heads toward her. Young-il’s expression turned unreadable, but Gi-hun immediately smiled, his face lighting up despite the exhaustion etched into his features.

"Good morning," he said warmly, walking over to her.

Y/N frowned slightly, brushing back her disheveled hair. "Did you…?"

"You fell asleep sitting up last night," Gi-hun explained "You looked uncomfortable, so I moved you."

"That wasn’t necessary," she muttered.

"Maybe not," he said with a chuckle, "but I wasn’t going to let you wake up with a stiff neck."

Y/N couldn’t help but smile faintly at his sincerity, though her chest tightened. She hated the vulnerability this place exposed in her, but Gi-hun always found a way to make her feel safe—even if that safety was fleeting.

She glanced back at Young-il, who stood off to the side, watching their exchange with a quiet intensity. He looked as if he wanted to say something but held back, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Oppa. What were you two talking about?" she asked, shifting her gaze back to Gi-hun.

Gi-hun hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Young-il before returning his focus to her. "Just trying to figure out what might come next," he said vaguely.

"You two looked pretty serious," she pressed, her curiosity piqued. Knowing that gi hun was lying.

Young-il finally spoke up, his voice low but steady. "We were discussing the alliances in here," he said simply. "The games are only going to get harder, and we need to be careful about who we trust."

Y/N didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked toward a group of players gathered near the far wall. She followed his gaze, noticing the tense, hushed conversation taking place between them.

"Stay close to us," Gi-hun said firmly, drawing her attention back to him. "Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together."

Before she could respond, the announcement blared through the room:

"Players, prepare for the next game."

The familiar dread settled in her stomach as the guards marched in, their masked faces as unreadable as ever.

Gi-hun rose to his feet, offering her a hand. "Ready?" he asked, his tone soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. As they joined the line of players being herded toward the next arena, she couldn’t help but glance at Gi-hun and Young-il.

She didn’t know what lay ahead, but as long as they were by her side, she felt a flicker of hope.

While walking towards the arena y/n looked around and saw jun hee fighting with her ex.

"Flashback"

It was the middle of the night, Y/N laid awake, her body tired but her mind racing. Just as she felt herself finally drifting into a restless sleep, she heard a quiet voice cut through the stillness.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Jun-hee whispered to Gi-hun, who was seated nearby, keeping watch as always.

“No,” Gi-hun replied firmly, his voice low but unwavering. “It’s too dangerous to go alone.”

Jun-hee sighed, frustration clear in her tone. “I’ll be quick. I’ll be fine.”

Before he could argue further, y/n slowly sat up, brushing a hand through her messy hair. “I’ll go with her,” she offered smiling.

Gi-hun turned his head sharply to look at her, his face tense with worry. He didn’t answer immediately, clearly torn.

“Don’t worry. We’ll stick together,” Y/N added, trying to sound confident.

Just then, an older woman—Player 149—pushed herself up from her sleeping spot. “I’ll come too. Safety in numbers, right?” she said quietly, her voice calm but resolute.

Gi-hun hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of his blanket. He opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N gave him a reassuring nod before helping Jun-hee to her feet.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said firmly. “We’ll be back before you know it.” now smiling like crazy

Reluctantly, Gi-hun nodded, though the worry never left his face.

The three women moved toward the guards stationed near the bathroom. The masked men didn’t budge, standing like statues in their usual positions.

“Let us to the bathroom” jun hoo demanded, standing directly in front of one of the guards.

He didn’t respond, only shaking his head slightly.

Y/N’s snapped. “ What do you mean no?! What’s your problem? Are you seriously going to stand there and block a bunch of WOMEN from going to the bathroom? What are we supposed to do, just hold it all night? She's pregnant, she is old and i... well i just need to use the restroom. So let us go true. Or do you enjoy making things miserable for everyone?” yn said looking around

The guard didn’t say a word, but Y/N could see him hesitate. She pressed on, her voice sharp. “We’re going in. If you’ve got a problem with that, then go ahead and explain to your boss why you’re wasting time harassing us over something this stupid. I will luckily piss on the floor if you want. I dont care, eather way you'll be cleaning it up”

Finally, the guard stepped aside, gesturing for them to pass.

“That’s what I thought, you piece of trash” Y/N muttered under her breath, leading the way.

Just as they were about to enter the bathroom, Player 333 appeared out of nowhere, jogging toward them. He stopped in front of Jun-hee, his expression pleading.

“Jun-hee,” he said softly, “can we talk? Just for a minute.”

Jun-hee stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No. Go away.” turning away

“Please,” Player 333 begged, taking a small step closer.

Jun-hee held up a hand, her voice firm. “I said no. Leave me alone.”

Player 333 hesitated, glancing at Y/N and Player 149 as if looking for support, but neither of them said anything, just looking at him like he is crazy. Finally, he gave a small nod and backed away, watching as the women entered the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, Jun-hee let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall.

“Whats his problem” Y/N asked, glancing at her curiously with a little smirk.

Jun-hee hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. “That’s Player 333,” she said finally. “He’s... he’s the father of my baby.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Really? That’s why he keeps trying to talk to you?”

Jun-hee nodded, her expression tired. “Yeah. He’s been following me around since the first day, trying to apologize or explain himself or something. I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m here because of him.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked gently.

Jun-hee sighed again, shaking her head. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say he made some bad decisions, and those decisions dragged me into this mess.”

Y/N frowned, leaning against the sink. “Do you hate him for it?”

Jun-hee didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked up at the flickering fluorescent light above them. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I just know I can’t let him distract me. Not here. Not now.”

Y/N nodded, deciding not to push further. Instead, she placed a reassuring hand on Jun-hee’s shoulder. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” she said simply.

Jun-hee gave a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

The women finished quickly and left the bathroom, their brief moment of calm already fading as they reentered the dangerous world of the game

End of flashback

Yn speeded over to jun hee, taking her arm pulling her to walk alongside her. Leaving player 333 standing alone yelling something "what and idiot" jun hee said as she angrily stomped the stairs.

" what happend?" Yn asked. " yesterday i asked him to vote for x so that we could go home but he still voted for o saying that 'Just one more game' like yeah like just one more game and i am dead. I really thought he changed yesterday when he promised to vote for x. For me..." jun hee said with anger and sadness in her voice. " i am sorry" yn said to her taking her hand.

The two girls smiled at each other and walked inside to the arena and went staight to their group.

---

Alonge side jun hee Y/N stepped cautiously into the new arena, her breath catching in her throat. The space was vast and unnervingly surreal, a stark contrast to the cold dormitories. A massive round platform took up the center of the room, gleaming under bright, artificial lights. In the middle of it stood a carousel, painted in bright colors, its horses frozen mid-gallop.

Surrounding the circular platform were countless doors, each painted in a different color. The sight of them sent a shiver down her spine. Something about this setup felt wrong—more than usual.

She glanced around at the other players as they filed into the arena. Their faces mirrored her unease, a mixture of fear and confusion settling over the group like a heavy fog.

“Players, please step onto the platform and wait for instructions,” a guard’s voice boomed, echoing off the walls.

The players hesitated, exchanging nervous glances before shuffling toward the platform. Y/N felt her heartbeat quicken as she followed the others, her mind racing with possibilities.

“What do you think this is?” Jung-beo asked, his voice tight with worry as they reached the platform.

“Looks like some sort of maze or puzzle,” Jun-hee murmured, eyeing the carousel suspiciously.

Y/N didn’t respond, her eyes flicking toward Gi-hun, who was scanning the arena with a grim expression. His jaw was set, and the tension in his posture was palpable.

“We stick together,” Gi-hun said firmly, his voice cutting through the nervous chatter. He looked at the group, his gaze lingering on each of them. “No matter what happens, we stay close. That’s the only way we make it through this.”

Y/N nodded, along with Young-il, Jung-beo, Deok-ho, and Jun-hee. The six of them huddled together, a small island of solidarity amidst the chaos.

“What kind of game even uses something like this?” Deok-ho muttered, gesturing toward the carousel.

“I don’t know,” Young-il replied, his voice low, “but we need to be ready for anything.”

Y/N’s stomach churned as she studied the colorful doors surrounding them. Each one looked harmless, but she knew better than to trust appearances in a place like this. Her gaze drifted back to the carousel, her unease growing.

The guard’s voice boomed across the arena, commanding their attention.

“Attentione all players. This is the fourth game: **Mingle**,” the guard announced, their tone as emotionless and cold as ever.

“What the hell does ‘Mingle’ mean?” Deok-ho asked, his voice shaky as his eyes darted toward the carousel.

Jun-hee shifted nervously beside him, glancing at the colorful doors surrounding the arena. “It sounds like… like we’ll need to form groups or something,” she speculated.

Gi-hun frowned deeply, his brows furrowing as he stared at the platform beneath their feet. “Form groups… but how many people per group?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Y/N looked at him, her chest tightening at the strain she could see on his face. Gi-hun had always been the one to lead, to think things through when the rest of them froze in fear, but this time, she could see the uncertainty weighing on him.

“Maybe it’s like the tug-of-war game,” Young-il suggested cautiously. “But… the carousel? What could it mean?”

The guard raised a hand, signaling for silence as the crowd's nervous murmurs began to escalate. Once the room was quiet, they continued explaining the game.

“In the game of Mingle, a song will play throughout the arena. When the song ends, a number will be announced. This number will represent how many players must occupy a single room after the time runs out.”

The players exchanged tense glances, trying to process what they’d just heard.

The guard continued. “You will have 30 seconds after the announcement to reach a room, ensure it is closed, and have the exact number of players required inside.

**Failure to meet these conditions will result in immediate elimination.**

Elimination,” the guard repeated, “includes:

- Being in a room with too many or too few players.

- Failing to find a room within the time limit.

- Leaving a door open when the time expires.”

The carousel in the center of the platform groaned again, this time spinning slightly as if to punctuate the guard’s chilling words.

Y/N’s heart sank at the sheer cruelty of the game’s design. A puzzle wrapped in chaos, with the potential for betrayal lurking at every step.

A player raised their voice, trembling with fear. “How many rounds are there?”

The guard didn’t answer, instead stepping back in silence as if to signal the rules were finished.

Gi-hun turned to their small group, his face grim. “This is going to be chaos,” he said. “We stick to the plan. We stay together as much as we can, but…” His voice faltered slightly, the weight of the game’s mechanics sinking in.

“If we have to split up…” Y/N began hesitantly.

“We make sure everyone gets to a room,” Gi-hun interrupted, his tone firm. “No one gets left behind.”

The group nodded, but the tension between them was palpable. As the players began murmuring nervously again, the carousel’s lights flickered ominously, casting the room in rotating shadows.

“Get ready,” Gi-hun muttered, his eyes never leaving the spinning centerpiece.

----

Ps: if you want to be t@gged say it in the comments❤️❤️

Masterlist=

Tag list=

@ashtrosstuff

@sorilyae

@space1crow

@marsyay78

@shadow-tumbler

@demonicangel69

#gi hun x reader #gihunxsisterreader #squid game x reader #squidgame #player 333 #the salesman #the salesman x reader #front man

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jellyfishsthings · 8 months ago

Note

Request: Tyler Galpin x fem!reader

Plot: Reader is very affectionate, but gets touch-starved and will walk up to him randomly and pull him in for kisses.

Extra but more optional than the rest: one of them gets eager and leads the other into a make-out while he’s at work

oh my god!!! I love this and it works with batista AU Remus too

It had been a normal Friday. The summer break finally ally setting on their routines. No more school, no more work. Just lazy days for three months.

Yet that wasn't true for everyone. Your lively boyfriend instead of taking some time off or really just allow himself to relax, still worked at the local cafe. Sometimes staying there more hours than he had too. You were missing him terribly. You had been looking forward to these days all week. Planning and hoping to spend endless hours on the beach. Have small roadtrips in his truck. Just the two of you.

But he had to ruin your dreams once again. He was planning to work all summer, claiming that he needed the money if he was going to leave his home next year to go to college. It was all very reasonable too. What would you say to him? That you just had a concerning infuration with him and always wanted to be together. Or that you were scared that if you spent too much time he would quickly get bored of you and leave you. It was a horrible paradox that was eating you up. Logically that didn't make sense he was your boyfriend and you had been good friend way before that. He chose to be with you. He was happy. Wasn't he?

You were sitting at the counter behind the register. No really allowed to be back there but the owner just simply rolled his eyes, knowing that you were going to distract his best employee from his job. Your legs were swinging lightly as you thought, not noticing his concerned looks. He was an arm distance away from you and let you play with the strings of his apron or sometime tracing the lines in his fingers if there weren't any customers.

"What up with you?" He said as he stepped between your legs. Softly cradling your head in the palms of his hands and rubbing your noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

"Nothing." You whisper quietly.

"Oh really. Because you haven't kissed me once in over forty minutes. I am starting to worry. What happed to my girl hm?"

"Really it's nothing. Just get back to your work."

"Nah. You see this right here. This isn't right I demand my kisses."

"No."

"So now do you not want to kiss me? What's next are you not going to visit me at work?"

"I don't know."

"Alright. I'll bite. What happend?"

"I already told you nothing."

"So you just don't want to kiss me silly?" For the first time she looked into his eyes. They were kind and light and playful. You eyebrows scrunched up and your lips slightly pouted in an adorable frown. Your mind racing at fifteen different directions. You grabbed his shirt and planted your lips firmly against his. He huffed a laugh as he kissed you back. Your heart stopped racing and your mind calmed. Why? Why were you like this? Why did you have to always touch him in some way or claim kisses most of time?

"There she is. I was wondering if you were abducted by aliens." He said as he continued kissing you. You let out a wet laugh. His heart flattered at the sound of it. He wanted to make you happy, steal your laugh or record it so that he could listen to it again and again. He wasn't the most self confident person, but around you he felt enough. The way would always seek him in a room full of people, the way you hand fitting in his, the way you lips molded together, familiar with each other. He always craved your company. "Storage room?"

You nodded as you grabbed his arm and eagerly pushed him into the small room. Something you might have done more times than it was acceptable. He pushed you against the wall. His kiss demanding and asking for more. Your lips were puffy and stung, your lungs screaming for air and your head getting slightly dizzy. His hands firmly on your waist and your hair. Travelling beneath your shirt. He lowered his head to your neck, sucking on the already bruised skin there that was concilled with make up, but he didn't need to see were he had marked you. He knew it by heart.

Things were getting dangerous now as he slowly lifted your shirt. You were in his work for God's sake to visit him and jeep him company not jump his bones in a small closet that barely fitted you. It wasn't the fact that you hadn't had sex yet. You had and it was ... mind-blowing. And you weren't exposed to the public. You had a sliver of privacy.

Breathy moans filled his ears and missed the sound of a customer asking if there was someone on the store. He wanted to ignore it desperately. But he knew he couldn't. He needed to have his money, not for college as he had said to you. But to buy you that dress he had seen in a store on his way to work. He imagined it on you as you straddled him and bounced on his lap. He had to make that fantasy real or he was going to lose his mind.

He regretfully ended the kiss and placed his forehead on yours. You were both gasping for air trying to calm your bodies down. He wanted nothing more than to carry you to his truck and take you home and promptly spent the remaining day between your legs, on top of you, or underneath you. He didn't care he just wanted you. With a heavy sigh he kissed the crown of your head lightly and whispered "I have to go. We will finish this later."

The mischief that danced in his eyes had your heart racing at an impossible pace. He smirked at you as he left you in the small room to gather yourself before you eventually came to find him.

Because you always came to find him.

words: 1.012

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus x reader #remus x you #tyler galpin x reader #tuler galpin fluff #tyler galpin x you

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bibibbon · 8 months ago

Text

MHA chapter 426

4 more chapters until MHA ends and wow!!!

Honestly this chapter was mainly the conclusion of the todoroki family arc which I still hate how it played out and ended. The whole todoroki family NOT INCLUDING ENJI deserves so much better than what horikoshi gave them.

Hawks is the new HPSC leader?!?! I feel like the system should of just been destroyed considering how much it hurt everyone and hawks by no means has any proper character development to take this role. Hawks hasn't really broken down his flawed beliefs or truly developed from his mentality that ended up getting one of the most redeemable league of villains members aka twice killed. Also he barely reflects on his actions and all of this feels so underwhelming and unprepared for.

Todoroki family deserves better. The ABSLOUTELY vile ending the todoroki family received is horrible like I really feel like they should just runaway and live in a house without endeavour and actually take up on endeavours attornment bs. Like the only one who gets it is natsou who has every right to live with his girlfriend and keep her far away from that environment and oh my Rei deserves so much better both narratively and by the fandom.

Enji still sucks. Yeah I can't lie nothing this man can do can make me like him and it doesn't help that hori has written all of those retcons to humanise him and make him pitiful. I feel like when it came to the todoroki family arc enji took on a whole lot of screentime WHICH HE SHOULDNT OF!!! That should of gone to shoto and the rest of the family and an easy way to fix it is to simply have killed enji in the first war arc (as was initially planned but hori changed it later on) ALSO I SAY LET TOUYA REST AT THIS POINT!!! having him just mechanically alive and stuck is horrible honestly I think that death is much more of a merciful fate for him at this point.

So lady nagant chose to go to jail?!?! Her reasoning for it is actually so sad though and it really shows how much hero society traumatised her. Like the woman didn't want to be free so she can't be used by anyone and would rather spend time in prison over it. I wish that she was hawk's mentor from the begining because the vibe those two give is absolutely amazing and it would enhance the parallels and relationship they have if they were. Honestly I hope hawks actually does a good job but Iam still all for the destruction of hero society and I doubt hawks is actually going to reform it properly also the hero society is so deeply flawed that I don't think there is a proper way to reform more like just scratch everything out and start fresh.

Spinner is back. I hope I don't see him have a breakdown when he realises what happend to the league because I can't handle that. Also that begs the question I thought that spinner had become somewhat brain dead after all he's been through so how did he turn back from being a giant nomu?

I can't handle the sibling angst too bad that touya and shoto didn't have a better arc. The whole shoto trying to know touya better and him revealing that soba is also his favourite food softens my heart. In another universe where enji doesn't get a redemption touya gets one while justice is served to the todoroki family.

Gentle criminal and la brava getting justice. (The only good part of the chapter fr)

in conclusion this chapter was horrible if we look at it from a story perspective due to how badly MHAs already established plot points and themes are handled!!!

Also what happend to the random character in the last chapter!!! I hope we get closure on that soon

#mha critical #bnha critical #mha #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #bhna critical #bnha #anti endeavor #anti endeavour #anti enji todoroki #dabi deserves better #lady nagant deserves better #hawks deserves better #spinner!#hawks critical #mha 426

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the-daydreaming-show · 25 days ago

Text

(2.) Embracing Illusions.

SUMMARY: After realizing that the alliance won't happend, you decide to take a new approach to what's left of you visit, while Feyre decides it's time for you to have a serious talk.

Or.

Where you and Feyre get too carried away by what could have been, and yo ignore what you know will be, just to live in an illusion a little longer.

NOTE: Thanks to all the interactions so far in the story and to the new members of the tag list, I hope you enjoy the story and that you like where we are going. So, this chapter is VERY long, and it was even longer, so I had to redesign it and split it in two, sorry for any inconsistencies you may find in it.

As always, English is not my first language so sorry for spelling mistakes and mistakes of the type, any comment on it is welcome if it is respectful. I am always trying to get comfortable and improve my writing in this language.

I hope you like it, let me know in the comments your opinions. XOXO Ella

Memories/Thoughts in italics Dragon Language in bold italics

Previus Part: (1.) THREADS OF TIME.

AO3 / Story Masterlist

"The past is a ghost that haunts us, and the future is an illusion that tempts us." – Anonymous

The exit from Hewn City was silent, which was chilling. The massive stone city was so quiet as you and Rhysand walked through it that you were sure nothing happy could happen in such a quiet place. It didn’t help that Azriel’s footsteps, who walked behind the two of you, made almost no echo at all, so the only sounds were those of Rhysand’s black boots and your own brown ones stepping on the marble.

You tried to shake off the tension in your shoulders but felt like your effort was in vain. All tension vanished, however, when you reached the massive city gates. There, the three of you were met with a massive black, scaly mass looming over the entrance, blocking it entirely. The figure was so tall that the sun shone down on you, casting light all the way a few feet behind you inside the city. You sighed in frustration, resting your hands on your waist.

“Hey, Balerion,” you yelled irritably, “what do you expect us to do? Climb your fat ass up to the sun?”

The dragon just growled loudly, clearly annoyed at the interruption of his comfortable nap on the gate. You let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl in response, and the beast sighed smugly.

“This little shit,” you muttered indignantly.

“When Feyre said he was spoiled, I didn’t think it was possible to spoil a creature like that,” Rhysand remarked, looking at Balerion with amusement as the dragon blocked the way.

“I promise, it wasn’t on purpose,” you hissed at him before stepping forward.

With both hands, you reached for the beast, which was nothing more than a huge shadow in the doorway, and pushed him away, not even applying much force. Balerion, dramatic and childish as ever, threw himself forward, spinning away from the door and whining as if he had been gravely wounded in battle.

“I barely touched you,” you defended yourself, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

“He acts like a puppy,” Azriel commented in surprise behind you, his steps almost as silent as before.

“More often than not,” you replied absentmindedly, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air.

The open sky stretched above you, the woods the only thing breaking through the horizon. You took a breath and sighed in relief as Balerion sighed and settled into position, preparing for flight.

“I’ve heard he’s enjoyed the mountains,” Rhysand commented. You hadn’t noticed he had come to stand beside you. You looked at his profile and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, like a starry sky.

You thought of Ragnar, your Captain of Ships, whom you had first met during your years as a courtesan. You didn’t know why you were comparing them, as they couldn’t be more different. But you remembered the way the captain’s sea-blue eyes seemed to hold the waves of the ocean, and you felt sorry for him. Perhaps he could have gotten used to Rhysand if there was something familiar about him, but you knew there would be no balance, and it would never happen.

“Yes. He had never seen mountains or forests like those before; he seems to like them too much,” you answered as you took your gloves out of your belt and began putting them on. “The bay is beautiful, no doubt, but there isn’t much variety in fauna and flora—just sand on sand and the occasional stray camel.”

You continued putting on your gloves in silence.

“If that’s the case, Balerion and you are welcome in the mountains whenever you need a distraction from the camels,” Rhysand said, his comment disguised as a joke. It made you look directly at him.

You thought about it for a moment. Are there mountains to visit in the Spring Court? you wondered mentally, your tone laced with danger. You couldn’t tell if he had heard your thought with his mind-reading abilities because you were already walking toward the dragon. However, you caught a smile forming on his face out of the corner of your eye as you walked away.

That interaction stayed with you as you carried on with your life—during the flight back to the House of Wind and the dinner where you informed your court of the situation in the Nightmare Court.

The truth was already on the table: the alliance with the Night Court would not happen. They had nothing to offer your cause. One way or another, you would leave this court without ever seeing Feyre or Rhysand again. There was nothing else to be done about the alliance. Whatever he did or didn’t do now couldn’t change anything.

Feyre was fine, which had been your concern for years, and she no longer needed you. But it didn't change anything if, for your own peace of mind, you let yourself see her life and make sure that Rhysand really was the man you thought he was.

Ever since Feyre met Balerion and you had that talk, she had tried to spend more time with you, just as her court had tried to be less hostile toward you and your people—somewhat less aggressive toward the unknown presence you represented. They were still vigilant and clearly not letting their guard down, but you had reached some sort of agreement on how to treat each other. It seemed like the rest of them had absorbed Feyre's try-hard mentality.

In contrast, the way your people behaved hadn’t changed much.

Armin still had the same frown on his face as always, watching whenever he could like a guard dog. Mayhem wouldn’t let you walk alone or without knowing where you were going at all times. And Luka still drew his symbols and protections on the soles of your feet every morning to ensure they had some sense of security when they let you walk through those enemy lands with nothing but your riding clothes. You didn’t carry a dagger anywhere—something they always complained about, but that didn’t change because of your decision.

Morrigan was the only thing that seemed constant. As the main person in charge of negotiations between the Court and the Bay, she hadn’t changed the way she looked at or interacted with everyone. The only difference was that she was less politically correct at times now.

“Don’t you have any clothes other than riding clothes?” Morrigan made a point of asking that every morning she met with the Bay court for breakfast, and this morning was no different. Her tone of mock concern over your fashion choices made you smile. “Really, there’s no way you’d wear that much leather in the Bay too—you’d die of heatstroke.”

“I have heat resistance,” you explained as you adjusted your gloves on your hip belt, securing them in place as you joined her in the hallway leading to the main dining room. “And you’d be surprised how quickly the temperature drops when you’re flying on a dragon. You’d think they’d keep you warm, but no—you freeze up there.”

Armin was already eating his breakfast at the table, as always waiting for you to arrive—diligent and unnecessary. You went to his side to sit down, and Morrigan, to your bewilderment, sat in the seat next to yours, sticking close to you.

Armin and you shared a look. It was a casual act, more casual than the blonde had ever behaved up to that point—lacking the etiquette that characterized the rest of the seating arrangements during shared meals before.

“Even when they spit fire?” Morrigan asked, arranging a napkin on her lap over her silk pants and taking a couple of pastries for her plate.

“Balerion is so big now that the heat barely reaches me when he spits. When he was younger, it was more stifling,” you explained as you poured yourself some tea. “The ash, on the other hand, does reach me and is more bothersome than any temperature.”

“We could get you some sunglasses to help with that,” Morrigan commented, laughing at the idea as she poured her own tea.

“I tried when we settled in the Bay,” you explained, adding sugar to your cup.

“We barely got her to keep the saddles and harnesses on. Good luck trying to put anything else on her,” Armin muttered bitterly, still offended by the lack of safety measures you had agreed to forego when riding your dragon. Morrigan looked at you curiously as she unwrapped her muffin.

“More safety for me means more weight. More weight means less mobility and control, which defeats the purpose of safety if I can’t handle the dragon properly,” you explained casually. “My council has been trying to get me to wear armor or some sort of protection while riding ever since we settled in the Bay. It’s a thorn in Armin’s side that he just can’t let go of. It’s annoying.”

Armin kicked you under the table and scolded you with his gaze, to which you pouted dramatically and rubbed the bruised area. Morrigan laughed softly.

You laughed too, but your smile faded when you saw the way Armin looked at you, even after the laughter died down and the room fell into silence. A sweet warning, born of affection itself: Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t get attached. You swallowed hard as the three of you finished breakfast without further incident, Morrigan occasionally making conversation with you, though your responses lacked complexity.

I'm not going to get attached, you told yourself. I’ll just make sure things are as they seem, and that’s it. Nothing more.

Feyre found you in the afternoon on the plain outside Velaris with Balerion, just as she had a few weeks before the trip to the mountains and the Court of Nightmares, during your first conversation. You hadn’t expected her to show up that day, but you smiled nonetheless when you saw her approach, and she smiled back. She was dressed in leather from head to toe, boots included, in what you assumed was some kind of training outfit.

“He’s been closer to the city lately,” she noted as she approached, gently stroking Balerion’s snout. The beast murmured contentedly, almost like a cat. “The first few days, we barely saw him fly—just the other two.”

“Yeah. I think the excitement of the forest and mountains has worn off a bit. Soon, he’ll start complaining that he wants to go back to the volcanoes or the Bay,” you replied casually, adjusting your gloves as you started putting one on. Feyre noticed.

“Are you going for a flight?” she asked, her tone light, though her hand paused mid-caress, still resting on the dragon.

“Yeah. I don’t want him complaining about ‘why don’t we fly’ and ‘why don’t we go home’ at the same time. There’s a limit to how much dragon whimsy I can take at once,” you said with a smirk, tugging the fingers of your left glove into place.

Balerion shifted, blowing a gust of hot air directly into your face with a force that nearly sent him sitting on his haunches. Feyre looked a little startled.

“Tch. I spoil you too much,” you muttered, rolling your eyes at the dragon’s attitude. You finished adjusting the glove silently.

It wasn’t until you moved to put on the other glove that you realized Feyre had stepped away, her expression tinged with a wariness that had faded weeks ago but now seemed to have returned as she regarded the dragon.

“Dragons like to play rough, and unfortunately, I’ve taught this one to play rough more than anything. He won’t hurt me—or anyone else, for that matter—don’t worry,” you assured her calmly as you put on the other glove. But Feyre still watched Balerion warily and looked at you with genuine concern.

“What if you lose control of him?” she asked, and you almost laughed. Of course, most people thought that riding Balerion was like riding a horse—a bond that could get out of control because, at the end of the day, the animal was just that: an animal. You could only think of one way to help her understand the truth.

You fastened the glove around your wrist and spoke to her.

“Come,” you said, gently taking her wrist and guiding her cautiously around Balerion’s wings.

You let go of her hand as you moved behind the beast’s wings. When you reached his massive torso, hidden from the world by those colossal wings, you motioned for her to come closer. Feyre hesitated but walked towards you.

As you watched her approach, you paused, considering whether or not you should proceed. You reminded yourself of the promise you had made after the visit to the Court of Nightmares. What you were about to do might feel intrusive; it could make her uncomfortable or seem like you were stepping out of line—and those were the last things you wanted. But at the same time, you weren’t doing anything wrong.

On one hand, you were simply reassuring the High Lady of the safety of her city, addressing her concerns about your dragons. On the other, you were sharing something deeply personal, revealing a part of yourself that was new, allowing your oldest friend to see a side of you that no one else ever had.

Balance was an illusion, but you took advantage of that illusion while it lasted.

When Feyre stood in front of you and took your hand, you gently stretched out her fingers with your thumb so she could show you her palm, and you guided her hand to rest on your chest, so she could feel your breathing and your heartbeat. Then you placed her other hand on Balerion's scales. You motioned for her to listen with your finger and rested your hand next to hers. And you breathed deeply.

Feyre listened to the way your breathing evened out so naturally that she could swear they were just one breath. You heard your hearts coordinate until they were one, the same way your breathing did. And you felt Balerion shift in place, accommodating himself under your touch, and you moved in place instinctively, mimicking his muscle movements.

“He and I, we are one.” You explained, and she didn’t look at you as you spoke, she was focused on listening to the way you both reacted, and you could feel her unintentionally press her hand tighter against your chest, as if she wanted to make sure she heard and felt correctly. “It’s not a matter of control, we are connected in body and soul. There is no reason or way for him to do something that doesn’t match what we both want. Nor can I do something that would make him lose control.” You took her wrist just as gently as you did before, and slowly pulled her hand away from your chest, before finishing your speech, “Your city is safe, you and Rhysand have my words, and my soul as your guarantee of that.”

She looks at you with a frown at that last sentence.

“I wasn’t worried about the city,” Feyre admitted, taking a step back, looking at him sadly, as if the fact that she had thought that hurt her

Immediately, you tried to escape the situation, walking past her and stepping onto Balerion’s wing, aiming to reach the mount on his back. But before you could make it to the beast’s torso, Feyre called out to you. You turned to face her, catching a glint in her eyes.

“This whole connection thing means it’s safe for you to take another person with you. Right?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

You were reminded of the first summer you spent in the woods together. One morning, you came to her with an apple. You still remembered how her face had lit up—she had told you that apples were her favorite as a child.

You’d told her you got them from a tree deep in the woods, a place you wouldn’t dare let her go—or go yourself—unless death by wild beasts suddenly became an acceptable way to die by your standards. That summer, she kept asking when you could get her another one, and every so often, you did. It took Feyre two more summers to realize there was no apple tree growing in those woods.

The truth was, you had stolen the apples from a merchant’s house, one that supplied them to the nobles in the area. They had so many that no one noticed a dozen or two missing now and then. You had started doing this because you’d heard apples were good for a child’s growth, and you’d bring a few to your mother so she could make purée for Rue.

When Feyre asked you for apples during that first summer—when she was still dangerously thin for her already young and small frame—her gaze would light up in such a way that you couldn’t help but get her more whenever you could.

That same excited, radiant gaze now adorned Feyre’s face as she asked if the pair of you could fly together.

“It does, indeed,” you said with a sigh. Nothing more needed to be said.

You jumped up from where you were on the wing to give part of your harness to Feyre. You returned to the ground and removed the section of your harness that went around your waist, leaving you with the straps that went around your thighs. You handed them to her silently and watched as she arranged the chains and leather over her own suit. The use of the harnesses contrasted with the crispness of Feyre’s garment. When she finished, she looked at you expectantly.

As you silently analyzed the harnesses, you approached her, almost nose to nose. You lifted the harness higher over her hips, adjusting it to better fit her waist, and made slight adjustments at the sides before releasing the main belt that was tied to the saddle.

“Okay,” you whispered without looking at her. “Follow me and step where I step.”

She sighed and followed you silently, stepping as you instructed on your dragon’s wing, one step at a time until you were on the beast’s torso. You walked along its back to the area where the neck joined the spine, where the bones curved upward like a camel’s hump, and there sat the saddle. It wasn’t much different from the one used on horses, but it had chains to help guide the dragon and many hooks where the beast’s harnesses were attached. The curve was a natural part of the dragon; it was where the fire would accumulate when it listened, and it was ideally suited for the saddle.

“You go first,” you instructed Feyre, who had no problem sitting on the back of the saddle, leaving room in front for you. When she was seated, you adjusted the harness hooks to securely fasten her to the saddle, giving a final tug to the harness belt and suddenly tightening it around her ribs. Feyre was surprised by the sudden loss of air this caused.

“Sorry,” you apologized softly. You were so used to this process that you forgot what it was like to do it for the first time. “If we spin too much, they come loose, and I don’t want to risk you falling off a cliff. It’ll get more comfortable once we move around more.”

“It’s okay,” Feyre assured you in a whisper.

You sat down in front of her in silence, settling your feet into the stirrups and hooking your own harness to the saddle.

“Put your boots under mine,” Feyre complied without question, letting out a murmur when she realized they fit perfectly. “They’re really just to make it easier for me to move around when handling the straps; they have no real use for handling the dragon. But I don’t want you kicking Balerion in the air. As big as this beast is, he doesn’t bend as smoothly as he did when he was young, and he doesn’t need distractions.” You scoffed, signaling that they were now secure, and Balerion growled at your comment as he began to rise, poking his head out of the grass first, offended but obedient.

“If you want to hold onto something—” Feyre clung to either side of your waist, not hugging you but fisting your clothes and belt. “—behind you, the saddle has handles in case you want something firmer.”

You didn’t wait for a response, and Balerion rose up onto his legs and wings, causing them to shake. Feyre let out a whimper, hugging you with one hand around your waist and grabbing the handle behind her with the other. You laughed, about to ask her if her husband had never taken her flying, but you cleared your throat at the memory that maybe you weren’t supposed to know that, and they couldn’t reveal how much your cut knew about hers.

“Takeoff and landing are the most jarring. Move with him as best you can. It helps,” you explained over your shoulder as Balerion stood on two legs, sitting upright and causing them to slide to the end of the seat. Your sword was now inevitably stuck to Feyre’s chest, with not even air able to pass between the two of them. Fey, moving more slowly, hugged you around the waist with both hands, crossing her fingers in front of you.

It makes more strategic sense for her to hold onto you instead of the handles in this position, so you didn’t give it much thought. You avoided thinking about the closeness that loomed dangerously over your back.

Focus on the flight, you told yourself while tightening your hands on the reins of the dragon.

Balerion began to flap his wings. The beast beneath them both lifted off the ground a few feet with a flap of its wings, then more with another, and even more until they were flying above the trees, balanced on the saddle. A few seconds later, after Balerion had been hovering over the city, you pulled on the reins so that you moved forward in the seat, away from Feyre.

It took a minute or less for the two of you to be within arm’s length of touching the clouds, and once there, you looked over your shoulder. You had expected to see Feyre upset or afraid from the experience, based on the way she still clung to your waist even though the flight had become calm. But, looking at her, Feyre had her arm outstretched. She let the fluffiness of the clouds pass through her fingers and looked at her fingers, now damp from the contact when she finished.

“I’ve traveled through them with Rhys, but I’ve never taken the time to touch one,” she admitted when she noticed you watching her.

Balerion let out a roar of delight at the height and the air hitting his gigantic snout. Feyre wrapped her arm around your waist, looking down at her city and resting her chin on your shoulder absentmindedly. You let out a sigh that she noticed immediately.

“I wanted to talk,” she finally admitted into your ear, causing your hands to sweat beneath your gloves and goosebumps to form under the long sleeves of your riding habit. “I thought it would be easier for you up here. And for me too, if I'm honest.”

Up here, no one hears or sees, so you can tell me anything here, was what Feyre was saying.

You nodded slowly, a lump forming in your throat. There was no conversation you would enjoy that required these conditions to happen. You looked at the reins in your hands, noting how the metal and worn leather contrasted with the leather and fabric of your new gloves, part of the outfit made just for this trip, just like Feyre’s suit—perfect and crisp—against the harness you wore every day.

You sighed and gave an order to Balerion in his language. Feyre sighed shakily against your neck and took her arms off your hips. You silently untied the harness on your legs and turned around to face Feyre in your seat, passing the reins over your head and letting them hug your waist. Hearing Armin's voice in the back of your mind, you hooked one of the harnesses on your thighs to the saddle again and crossed your other leg to hold it against you.

You stayed silent, and both of you looked at each other, for the first time truly absorbing what you were now. You admired the stars in Feyre's eyes, her half-up hair longer than you had ever seen it, and her pointed ears, which were the most distinctive feature about her you had ever noticed. She was surely the most beautiful being that had ever walked the world, without a doubt. She always had been.

She looked back at you.

(Feyre admired your eyes. They now had flashes of silver and light in them, like gemstones peeking out from beneath your natural color. The platinum blonde hair that fell in braids and a ponytail behind your neck cascaded loosely below your waist, different from the hair you used to keep short in your youth. The shape of your face had changed since then, and now your cheeks weren’t flushed like they used to be.

She didn’t know what it was, but she could smell and see that you were different. Everything about you was, just as she was.)

Her eyes scanned you silently until a detail at the line where your hair began made her eyebrows rise.

“Your roots,” Feyre pointed out, as if relieved, briefly admiring the baby hairs at her temple. “It’s your color that grows, not the blonde.”

“It is. My hair doesn’t burn; it just takes on this look in the heat. I don't really like it, but it seems to be part of the image I have now. I had all my hair like that when I conquered and liberated. So I keep it in public or on important occasions,” you explained, playing with the zipper of one of your gloves without looking at her.

As you did so, you looked down at Feyre’s hand, letting your gaze fall on the tattoo covering it. She offered it readily, wanting to show you something new about her, just as you had done when explaining your hair color to her. You took her hand in yours gently, feeling regret that you didn’t have your fingers free to feel it, but you still ran the leather over the ink in the open palm facing you.

Feyre lifted her other hand and played with the baby locks she’d been staring at, pulling them out of their place where they curled over her forehead and between her fingers, making it easier to see the tiny roots of your natural color that lay on your scalp.

You weren’t sure how long it had been there, but soon Feyre was braiding the center ponytail over her shoulder while your thumb remained over the mountain with three stars staring back at you.

As if you wanted to hide the sun with one hand, you mocked yourself.

“I told you everything in my letters, not because it was part of the plan, but because when I started writing to you, I realized that I wanted to tell you everything. It was like vomiting with letters; it had never happened to me before.” She laughed at herself, lowering her hand to her lap.

It is true, the first letter that had arrived at the Bay from her was a parchment envelope filled with pages and pages of her writing, with only your name on the front of the envelope indicating the recipient. But even before reading it, your hand had trembled when you tried to take it from Luka because it smelled like Feyre, as if she had left everything of herself on those pages and traveled to you.

“You have very nice handwriting. Elegant,” you told her, smiling mockingly. Feyre just rolled her eyes, and you both laughed a little at that. “I was almost tempted to put the letter in a painting; those strokes were so pretty. You are quite an artist, even in writing, Fey.”

“Yours was also very beautifully written,” she told you sincerely, and you felt bad, looking down in shame. She realized what that string meant. “Oh.”

You hadn’t written the answer to that letter or any of the ones that followed. Her disappointed sigh broke your heart, and you quickly tried to ease her pain.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to write to you myself, but my handwriting is genuinely a mess, even after years of education. Luka would have killed me if I had handled my letters with foreign forces in my scribbles, as he calls them. But it was me; I told him everything that was written,” you explained quickly, looking into her eyes again.

Silence.

“You didn’t say much in those letters; that kind of disappointed me,” she said again, moving her hand under your thumb to hold your hand inside hers.

“If I’m being honest—” you tried to start.

“Yes, be so. Please.”

Tell me everything; I don't mind. Tell me, please. She said to you with her eyes, like when she asked you to teach her more and more in the forests years ago.

“I wanted to answer you in person the moment I finished reading. But given my history of going places with my dragons and taking over governments, my court was worried that it would be taken as an act of war on my part, just by seeing me fly through your clouds.” You admitted, feeling the heat on your cheeks, which was something unusual for you, given your lack of sensitivity to temperature after the volcano.

Feyre looked at you, stupefied. (You had wanted to go find her, she thought. As soon as you received and read her letter, you were going to present yourself at her court to see her, but you had been prevented from doing so.)

“They also didn’t think that I would be seen as property in the eyes of your husband, who I have heard is quite devoted and protective, especially with your son still so young. Well, in the long run, it was better that I didn’t do that; it would have caused you a disaster.” You smiled at him, bitterness hidden in your throat, but he only looked at you seriously.

“I would have received you. Rhys would have understood, and he would have welcomed you… It was an option we were prepared for, if it had happened.” He explained, looking into your eyes, leaving no room for doubt about the truth of his words.

You imagined yourself running out of your residence in the Bay in your pajamas and robe, racing to Balerion and soaring through the skies without a harness, sleeplessly skimming the continent, flying over the Night Court at dusk and landing hard on the beach. You imagined yourself running frantically toward the streets where people were screaming and moving away from the beaches, searching the crowd for a familiar face. Until you saw her, approaching you in her own clothes, looking surprised but relieved. You imagined how you both walked and then ran to each other, hugging and clinging to one another as soon as you were close enough to touch with your fingertips. The screams and chaos around you would have disappeared as you held each other, almost breaking her ribs in the embrace. “You’re here,” Feyre would have whispered. “Yes, I’m here, Fey,” you would have replied in the same way. Balerion would have let out a roar in the distance.

You were silent for a moment, as if watching over what didn’t happen.

“Rhys would have made some comment about a dragon stealthily landing on his lands, but beyond that, he knows everything just like you do.”

You nodded absentmindedly, and you should have given her the impression that you didn’t believe him.

You didn’t. If the situation were the other way around, you would have certainly made more than a couple of comments; it would have been the most logical thing to do. But that was enough to sparked a surprising need to defend her mate in Feyre, and so she did.

“He’s good,” she pointed out. You looked at her without moving your head and asked her a question in the same tone.

“Do you think I wouldn’t have come here immediately if I had detected that he was nothing but divine with you in that letter?”

Do you think I wouldn't have burned this place to the ground and take you out of here if I weren't sure that he loves you more than himself? You almost asked her, but you closed your mouth, not wanting to add more and say too much.

(Feyre imagined something too. She imagined the day Tamlin had locked her away, envisioning that instead of Morrigan's arms lifting her up, you appeared in the sky. She imagined Balerion covering the manor like a cloud and the screams of the guards as you burned it down when htey got in your way, before descending into the courtyard in front of where she was huddled. She imagined you stepping into the midst of her power without fear, burning away the barriers she had put up in her panic so easy as if they were spiderwebs in your path. You would speak to her, and the sound of your voice, which she had missed so much, would slowly draw her out of her state, undoing her panic attack with each word and gently calling her back to reality.

She wouldn't know how you had gotten there or how you had known she needed help, but you would have offered your hand, and she wouldn't hesitate. “You won’t be coming back here, Fey,” you would have assured her, but she would have followed you without hesitation, even if she hadn’t wanted to. You wouldn't say anything, letting her save herself again, just like when they were children.

You would tell her softly in the midst of the chaos how to clime Balerion, who would crush all the roses in the garden when he landed, and before anyone could find out what was happening, you would make her rise into the air, taking her away from there to a destination she didn't know but trusted would be safe.)

“No, I don’t think so,” Feyre admitted softly, releasing the tension that had risen in her shoulders.

(She made a moment of silence, for what it could have been.)

She let out a heavy sigh and looked at you again. You knew the part you weren’t sure you were ready for was coming, but you let her say it anyway.

“I tried to get your father to tell me what he did with you for years after you disappeared. That morning, I went to look for you like always, and your father told me you’d left early, then slammed the door in my face. I thought he meant you were in the woods, so I went and looked everywhere for you. I tried everything I knew, everything you taught me, to find a trace of you, and there was nothing. Not long after that day, I went back to tell your father I hadn’t found you and saw you paying the doctor for medicine for the baby and your mother.”

The admission confirmed a part of your story you hadn’t seen but had suspected. You knew your father had sold you and your sister for the money he needed to keep the baby alive with medicine they couldn’t otherwise get.

“I went into the woods alone after that, but every morning I passed by your house. When they opened the door, I asked, and when they didn’t, I came back at night to try again. Even when the child—” Feyre stopped dead in her tracks, and you looked at her, a lump in your throat. But you shook your head, giving her permission to say it all.

“When the child died, I kept asking, even when your mother disappeared, but the whole town saw your father bury her in the yard with the rope still around her neck. The bastard had the decency to look sorry he was born. One day, I went to knock on the door before I went out into the woods; it was slammed open by me, and the place was deserted. There was nothing inside the cabin or outside, as if no one had ever been there. He left, and I felt like I lost you for the second time.”

“Fey, there was nothing you could do. Knowing isn’t going to change that,” you told her, partly to comfort her and partly to beg her not to make you say more.

“But I want to know, because you haven’t told me, and I feel like it’s more to protect me than you.” She took a breath to continue speaking urgently and determinedly: “It may have been years, but I know you better than anyone else could. That afternoon, you did the same thing to me as you do now.”

That afternoon. The day before they sold you to your sister. The last time you had seen each other.

That day, after spending the morning on a quick hunt to prepare for the cold months like every year, you and Feyre walked through the village back to your homes after selling the last of your remaining furs. Feyre was on your right, both of you with your arms entwined as you walked, the older girl’s pockets jingling with the coins she carried.

It had been a normal day. Unremarkable. Feyre wouldn’t remember anything particular about the day, only that last exchange before she didn’t see you for almost a decade.

“I really think we should go deeper into the forest,” Feyre had insisted, rolling her eyes at your stubbornness.

“Sure,” you exclaimed sarcastically as you walked down a more deserted street, away from the bustling market of the village. “That way, we can be kidnapped by some dark, ill-tempered fae lord and become his sex slaves for the rest of our lives. We won’t have to hunt anymore, so that seems like a good deal.”

“Oh, come on,” Feyre exclaimed playfully, hugging your arm. “Don’t tell me you actually believe those stories!”

“I guess I’m not taking any chances. And neither are you, my Fey,” you replied casually, tapping her nose to tease her a little in return. Feyre rolled her eyes.

That was what you had always called her. You used to tell her that you liked the nickname you had given her upon your first meeting because it sounded fair, and Feyre was fair in everything she did.

And Feyre liked it because it sounded like she was your faith, the most sacred and believed-in thing in that world. In a way, she had been projecting, because you had become her faith when you found her in the woods. You had given a stressed and hopeless eleven-year-old girl food, knowledge, and the strength to survive.

And yet, that day, she hadn’t even given you a hug when she dropped you off at the door. She had just wiped it away and poked you in the ribs playfully. Her last contact with you.

“Don’t let a fairy kidnap you while I’m not watching, my Fey,” she had told you, which had earned you that elbow. “Hey, I’m just saying that if it happens, I’ll complain for the rest of your life if I have to go all the way to Prythian to get you out.”

She had smiled mischievously, her pre-teen features shining with mischief.

“At least it would be fun,” she had teased one last time. After that, she had turned away, and you hadn’t looked at each other again. She hadn’t even looked over her shoulder or said goodbye properly. Nothing.

You were simply not there, as if when she had turned around that day, you had disappeared.

“You dodged my rebuke like you always did. You didn’t listen to me about going further into the woods—”

“Because it wasn’t necessary, Fey.”

“I know it wasn’t necessary,” the admission left her breathing heavily. You left her angry and gave her the silence she needed. “That day, when I gave you the idea, as bad as it was. That day, you knew something would happen; we both knew your father would do something, but you still didn’t say anything and pushed me away all day. I told you to go further into the woods because I knew you would wake up, and I thought you would say something. I wanted to help you like you had helped me; I wanted you to lean on me and see that I could handle myself. But you didn’t, because I was a child. But I’m not anymore.”

Feyre had her hands balled into fists on her lap. You looked up at the sky, avoiding her gaze and thinking of what to say.

She was right; as children, you had always put up this wall between you. You were the eldest, after all, and you saw her as that light in your life that deserved protection. You couldn't burden her with your problems; you were afraid to dim her light, but looking at her now, you knew that maybe nothing you said would extinguish that light.

Your Fey was a grown woman. She had gone through more without you than with you, and she had come out victorious. You had no right to protect her from anything, and she asked you to lean on her the way she wanted you to when you were children. Now you could, she asked you.

But you didn't know how. The only person who had never supported you like that was Ragnar. Your ship captain had been a famous pirate and one of your first private clients, one of those you always had. When you made your name as a courtesan, to the point of choosing your clients, he was one of the first to have his VIP pass to visit you whenever he was in the cigar. He had unwittingly turned you into the Pirates' Bride, with his fascinating stories that made you feel like you were outside the walls of the brothel where you were enslaved, even if only for a few hours.

But even he only knew one side of you; the weight you carried for him was nothing compared to the weight Feyre wanted him to share with her.

Feyre was fair. She had given you all of herself when she was just a child, allowing you to see her at her most vulnerable and building on part of what made her who she was today. She had given you her trust, and she wanted you to share your weight with her now, even if just a little, to balance the relationship that fate had left unfinished to mature for many years.

You began to think of what to say to her, but the first thing that came to mind was Rue—the blood covering her neck and your hands, her cold and lifeless face, the people running around you in terror knowing the guard was coming. The hole in your chest anchored you in that place, even though you had time, and they asked you to run away from what you had done in revenge for the life that had been taken from your little sister, who lay dead in your arms.

You shook your head sharply, pushing those memories out of your mind, causing your head to ache from the abrupt movement.

You couldn't. You didn't want to—or couldn't—do that to your mind now; that emptiness would consume you.

Feyre’s hand reached for yours, interrupting your little crisis. You looked at her and saw the concern in her eyes. She was no longer tense or angry or frustrated. She even seemed sorry for pushing you so far.

“I owe you,” she said, sounding frustrated now, and you looked at her in surprise. “Those years, you kept me alive in the forest, and even when you were gone, everything you taught me helped me survive. Even away, you are as much the cause of all this as I am. I want to know everything. I want us to be one again, like we were in the forest.”

You moved her hand over yours and then rubbed your eyes too hard, almost causing pain to your eyelids. You stayed silent, unable to look at anything but the stars in her hands, which became the only thing on your mind.

You wanted to tell her that when the rebellion at the volcanoes failed and you decided it was better to throw yourself into the lava than to live another day, you jumped into the lava, yearning for death, only to emerge from it spitting it out. You felt your bones moving and your skin covering you, as if suddenly your own existence was too much for your mind. You thought of her.

When you understood the dragons and the power they gave you, you thought of going back for her, of looking for her. You just wanted to go home.

You didn’t. You didn't think you had the words yet, and even if you did, you knew it would be too much to say, because you would have to tell her things you had understood on that island that no longer made sense to articulate.

She whispered your name, begging you to give her something.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You cleared your throat and let go of her hand. You ran your hands over your thighs, trying to get the sweat off, but you still had your gloves on, and you looked around for comfort as you found the words to say. “Fey, I promise I’ll tell you that story someday, but I can’t today. I don’t know if I can when this visit is over, but I promise I’ll try. I genuinely can’t right now, and I don’t know when I will be able to.”

Feyre squeezed your hand when your voice broke, and you looked up at her, expecting a sad smile, but it was no longer desperate or disappointed.

Liar. That’s what you were. You had just told her lies.

“That’s enough,” you whispered in comfort.

Liar. Just get it over with and tell her you don’t plan on a tomorrow for the two of you.

You didn’t, of course. You stayed in that deep illusion you had created around the two of you. When you arrived at the House of Wind, you helped Feyre get the harnesses off, and you both walked toward the house when you decided to tell her at least one truth.

“I know your boy’s birthday is coming up, or it was; I don’t know the exact date,” you admitted as you watched Balerion walk away into the mountains. “I hope it’s not out of line, but I bought him something. It seemed rude not to bring something. But I was told it could be misconstrued, politically speaking—”

“It’s not out of line,” Feyre cut you off gently and gave you the brightest smile you had received in years.

Next Part: (3.) DREAMS MADE HEAVY.

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