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#still cannot believe this hair exists now
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Guardian angels & other things to swoon at
I have no self-control so I started my Moth Work re-read and omg??? my 2023 romance-averse ass is losing my mind at how cute some of these moments are.
Lonan and Harrison back then: cute, a lil rocky, but cute
Lonan and Harrison now: let’s flirt by being mean to each other
Moth Work logline for those who weren’t around then: Lonan and Harrison’s complicated relationship is tested when they find a photo of a woman who might hold answers about Lonan’s past.
Circa 2019 (literally how did I write this at age 17, I have no idea).
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artists-ally · 16 days
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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian
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*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.
Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!
Word Count: 7,630
Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut
Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.
~~~~~
“So, explain this to me again?”
“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”
From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter. 
“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”
I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”
“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”
“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.
“The sauna?”
Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”
“Should I be afraid?” 
“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”
“Naked?” I dare to ask.
“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”
I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.
And the space between my thighs.
“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”
“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”
“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle. 
“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”
“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”
I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”
Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”
“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”
“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands. 
“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”
“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Will you bring me-”
“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.
“Crony bitch.”
“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room. 
Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”
“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”
“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.
“Sauna time?”
“Sauna time.”
The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes. 
“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes. 
“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile. 
“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice. 
Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”
“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”
“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.
“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”
“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”
“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve. 
But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing. 
“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same. 
“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”
I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders. 
Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”
“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”
“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time. 
“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison. 
The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them. 
No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later. 
“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”
Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”
“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”
“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”
“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear. 
“Brat.”
“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”
I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”
He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside. 
In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s. 
Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels. 
Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door. 
“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.
“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.
I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”
Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it. 
“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.
Oh. Right. The towels. 
I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right. 
I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”
He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”
Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”
I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”
Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.
“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching. 
“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same. 
There isn’t a verbal response from him. 
Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting. 
Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone. 
“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”
Shit. SHIT.
“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”
“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”
“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”
“Azriel I-”
“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet. 
My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”
“Three.” He stands, towering over me.
I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”
“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.
“Xaden will you please fucking-”
“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t respond. 
“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly. 
“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?” 
One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”
“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.
“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire. 
“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”
Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo. 
And I craved it. 
I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”
His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”
Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible. 
“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”
I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”
A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”
Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance. 
Cauldron boil me alive–
I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden. 
The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest. 
“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him. 
“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”
I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me. 
“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”
My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times. 
“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock. 
I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.
When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him. 
“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath. 
“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”
I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought. 
The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”
There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”
I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them. 
Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal. 
Me. 
Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat. 
“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers. 
My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place. 
“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him. 
Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut. 
“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”
He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”
The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”
“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”
Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?
I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible. 
“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”
At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks. 
Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet. 
“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”
The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides. 
Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes. 
“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.
“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”
I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”
“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat. 
“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”
“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”
I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level. 
“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it. 
My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-
“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”
“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”
Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me. 
Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.” 
The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen. 
“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”
Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.
“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”
“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture. 
He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in. 
A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit. 
“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”
“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”
After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth. 
It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction. 
“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”
At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males. 
I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again. 
“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”
The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”
“Make her stop.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”
“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”
“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”
Xaden sinks to his knees. 
“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”
The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…
“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”
It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit. 
“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me. 
“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”
It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.
“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”
Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.
“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content. 
“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”
“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”
“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life. 
I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway. 
“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest. 
I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out. 
Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction. 
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips. 
I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible. 
Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second. 
“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders. 
“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock. 
“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.
“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”
Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”
Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me. 
“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”
“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”
“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”
When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.
I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does. 
“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere. 
“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees. 
I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me. 
As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.
Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine. 
“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”
A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat. 
Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”
“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”
“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”
“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay. 
Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna. 
“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face. 
“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”
“My only request is a bath.”
“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”
I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh. 
“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah. 
“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.” 
“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”
“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.
“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”
“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”
“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.
They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths. 
“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.
“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom. 
I can’t help but laugh. 
“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles. 
“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”
“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”
I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.  
“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily. 
I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months
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one last time ft. vinsmoke sanji!
a/n: continuation of my time travel series as asked by anon!! sanji, lost you when you were both 27. now, three years later, aged 30, the cook travels back in time and sees you again. *cue angst* not proofread, im so sorry for mistakes!
warnings: none!! just my crappy attempts of writing angst tbh
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"it makes no sense" nami mumbled, peering down intensely at the old cook as if examining her personal lab rat. the alleged thirty year old had materialized in the main room of the going merry through thin air; and nami had almost knocked him out with her staff.
"nami-swan let me-" the man tried to speak but the red-head cut him off, "you ate a devil fruit and you traveled back in time?"
"you're so gorgeous even when you boss me around-""
"sanji." nami cocked an eyebrow.
sanji sighed lightly, trying to reason, "well, i mean i actually ate like just half a bite of it. i don't think this time travel thing is permanent. i'll be out of your gorgeous hair in just a minute"
"no, you being here isn't the issue." nami corrected herself, "i think im just surprised is all. the idea that there exists something like this is just-"
but someone barged into the room before she could finish.
"what the fuck?" the swordsman looked at sanji, taken aback by the sudden blondie appearance, "he looks awfully like the shit-cook."
"it's nice to see you too, moss-head"
"ah-" nami groaned at the swordsman appearance, "well, i guess i'll explain to everybody. out on deck, both of you"
"why are you so tall?" zoro gave the older cook a nasty look.
"zoro, out."
"why is he so tall-"
。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆
"so..." the younger, blonde man asked, "you're me but 30?"
the older man shrugged, "yes, pretty much."
"i cannot believe you committed to the bangs look for over a decade, sanji" you giggled, looking from the older version to the younger one.
"if you like it, then i can keep it for the rest of eternity, my love."
you laughed again, sending the cook an amused look, "sure, i like it."
while the younger cook was swooned at your words, sending you a love-struck gaze. the older was busy contemplating whether he wanted to hug you so hard till his ribs broke down and he disintegrated within you, or if he should keep his distance, saving himself all that hurt.
your hair was choppier and the strands moved gently in the wind, the tresses cashmere kisses against your sun-kissed skin. all the signs of aging were absent from your skin, all those signs of you and him together were gone, just like that. as if you and he hadn't existed at all.
there was no scar on your lips from the time you fell down in the dark while sleepy, no cuts on your arms and legs from battles long gone. every evidence of the life you and sanji had built together was gone, leaving a twenty-three year old you behind.
well, technically that life was yet to come. it would take you and his younger version another five months, 23 days and 6 hours till you both got together. atleast, if his calculations were correct.
it would take you another 9 years, 2 months and 4 days to leave him. he knew those calculations by heart.
and so, sanji held back the urge to ask you if you liked two sugars in your coffee right now too? and did you light up when the moon was out in all it's glory? did your favourite constellation stay the same as years passed you by? did you look the same when you kissed him awake? did-
instead, he said nothing and stared at you, transfixed.
when ussop shook the older cook awake, the blonde man gave the younger crew members a pained smile. and when luffy jumped up and down, asking whether the cook still cooked, sanji found himself laughing and offering to make a meal.
atleast, this way, he could resign himself to an old kitchen, boundless memories and endless suffering, away from your ghastly presence.
the door stood ajar and you slipped inside just as silently like you always did when you wanted to surprise him in the kitchen. he looked up from the chopping board, well-versed with every one of your silent exchanges.
"want some help?" you offered, walking over leisurely and standing opposite to the man on the kitchen island.
the man looked down, focusing on not cutting his fingers up, "uh- no, thanks."
"damn, did you change?"
"hm?"
"where's the added "my love", "mon cheri" or "darling" at the end?" you cocked up an eyebrow, giving him a confused look, "don't tell me you lost those with time, that'll be a real shame."
sanji looked up, dumbstruck at you.
ofcourse he didn't. how could he? how could he when you were all that and more to him. under breathy whispers, loud declarations of love and silent hums in the dark of the night, you were every stringed syllable in every language to him.
he must have been silent for too long cause you shook your palm in front of him, paranoia sewn into your skin, "i mean it's okay if you lost it. like, it's not that big of a deal-"
and sanji laughed.
"excuse me? it's not nice to laugh at a lady."
"you looked so adorable like that." he looked down at the chopped vegetables, hands skillfully adding the veggies to the heated pan. then he looked up through his eyebrows, skillfully avoiding your gaze fully, "you're quite cute, love."
"uh-" your ears went red and you looked away, "thanks? y-you too."
"how have you been, yn?" he looked back at the food, his voice was tender. every hitch of the breath was audible against the backdrop of distant laughs from the crew.
"oh?" you replied shocked. then you smiled, "good. i'm good."
"good?" he repeated, ever so slowly as if turning the word on the tip of his tongue to remember the way you said it.
"yeah, i've been good, sanji."
"i'm glad." he pursed his lips, turning his back to you under the lie of fetching bowls from the cabinet.
"what are you cooking?" you asked, leaning over and peering at the vessel on the stove.
even without turning, he said, "you'd lose balance, careful now."
you marveled at the simmering dish, looking at his back and smiling real big, "you're cooking hand-pulled noodles with broth?! i think its my new favourite dish! i tasted it like a few days ago and i've been dying to eat it againn"
sanji smiled, still turned away from you, "is that so?"
as much as sanji prided himself at his ability to identify you from lightyears apart, at his ability to hear you in the noisiest room, he must have not been paying attention.
because you had sneaked up behind him and pressed yourself against his back, giving him a hug. you smiled gummy against his back muscles, "thankyou! thankyou! thankyouuu!!"
sanji froze under your casual touch. after a second, mindlessly, he lay his bigger hands on top of yours, relishing in the way you felt under him. he closed his eyes, trying to etch the moment in his memories. then he smiled again, promising against the thin air, "i will make you this as many times as you ask me."
"really?" you beamed again, letting go and standing beside him, "promise me?"
"i promise you." he gave you curt nod, melting under every one of your happy dance moves.
"now i would bother you for the rest of our lives." you stuck out your tongue at the blonde man.
"i would rather not be bothered by anyone but you, my love."
"aww-"
"hey geezer." the younger cook stood at the door, eyeing the negligible distance between you and the older man, "get away from yn-chan, you fucking pervert."
"rich coming from you, mr. nosebleed" the older man gave the younger a dirty look.
"HEY THATS NOT MY FAULT"
"SAAAANJI" luffy whined from outside, "ARE YOU DONEEE? WE'RE STARVINGGGG-"
vinsmoke sanji, aged thirty, yelled back "YEAH LEARN TO WAIT SOME MORE."
"YOU'RE SO MEAN SANJI! I MEAN- OLDER SANJI? I MEAN SANJI??- alee? I MEAN THE COOK OF MY SHIP?? NO, THE COOK OF MY FUTURE SHIP-"
"JUST SHUT UP LUFFY." the two blondes yelled in unison and you laughed one last time, lighting up the kitchen on fire.
oh wait, no. that is just the smoke due to the burning veggies in the pan.
well, fuck.
atleast you were laughing. and sanji would have killed entire nations to see that sight again, so, what were a few vegetables for the sacrifice?
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amasterpieceofmadness · 4 months
Text
museum – bucky b.
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parings Bucky Barnes x reader
summary Bucky and you visit the museum as it won’t stop raining. As you are looking through the exhibition you stumble across an old picture of him and Steve…
warnings established relationship, mentions of Bucky’s past, fluff
word count 1k
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“I want to go to the history exhibition first” You announce as you take a close look at the museum plan.
Bucky just nods, giving you a soft smile “Sure, whatever you want, doll”
It’s been raining for 3 days and it’s getting really boring in the compound with not much to do there. So, Bucky had the idea to spend a day at the museum. And this is where you two are right now. You walk through the halls together, looking around curiously. The exhibition is impressive and Bucky’s hand rests at the small of your back as you look through the displayed items together.
As you enter the next room you find yourselves in an exhibition of World War 2. You take a look at Bucky, who is already looking around a bit stunned and speechless. “We can skip it, if you want” You suggest but Bucky quickly shakes his head.
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry, doll” he shoots you one of his handsome smiles and you return it as you both start to roam through the exhibit.
You are looking through some old medals and pictures displayed. As you are searching for Bucky you can find him in front of a showcase, so, you step closer to get a better look. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” Bucky nods “it is.” You are looking at the old uniform of none other than Captain America. It’s pretty different from the tactical suit Steve wears nowadays on missions. The one from back then is more like a suit for theatre, which is not surprising considering what he had to do at that time. The suit looks worn out a bit, the red and white stripes still bright though.
This part of the exhibition shows the life of Steve Rogers back than as a national hero. As you continue to admire the uniform Bucky looks around. He comes to a stop in front of a wall full of old letters and pictures. You come closer too and notice his changed expression. He looks deep in thought, a bit nostalgic and wistful even. He is looking at an old picture of young Steve right before going to war. Next to him is a young man with short dark hair, wearing the same military uniform as Steve.
“Is that… you?” You ask in utter disbelief. Bucky doesn’t respond, only gives you a short nod. He can’t tear his eyes away from this picture. Under it is a short description, quoting “Steven Rogers and his friend James Barnes, one day before departure, 1943. It is the last picture of James Barnes before his death 3 days later”. To say you are shocked is an understatement. Of course, for the world this soldier was just a number, lucky enough to be friends with Americas national hero, who died 70 years ago.
But he is still here, right next to you. You cannot believe that this is a picture of young Bucky. He must be around 26 years old on it. And even though you can see in his eyes that he has been through a lot since then, he still has the same cute smile. A wave of emotions rushes over you as you continue to look at this picture and the description. Their life was so differently, and yet, somehow they both ended up in a reality that shouldn’t exist for the both of them. And you don’t even want to imagine what they had to endure over all this time.
Your breathing starts to get shaky and tears dwell in your eyes. You then feel a hand on your shoulder, comforting you. It’s Bucky. He is no longer looking at the picture, his eyes are focused solely on you. There’s concern in his face. “What’s wrong, doll?”
You simply shake my head, taking a deep breath. You shouldn’t be the one who needs comfort right now. Instead, you should be the one who comforts him, as this is for sure not easy for Bucky. “Nothing” You give him a forced smile.
Bucky tilts his head, not believing you. “Don’t dwell on the past. I’m still here” He whispers the last part and pulls you into a soft hug. Your arms wrap around him immediately and you burry your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m still here…” He repeats his words, talking more to himself than to you, which shows just how much he is dwelling on the past right now, even though he tells you not to.
Before you pull apart Bucky presses a soft kiss to your forehead and looks into your eyes, still concerned. “Everything okay, doll?”
You nod and peck his lips with yours quickly. “Yes, how about you?”
His smile grows a bit. “Of course. If all those things didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here with you now”
His words make you smile as well, and he takes your hand softly in his before you walk out of the exhibition together, taking one last look at the picture. You spend the whole evening sitting on the couch together in the compound, Bucky talking about his life before war, before Hydra, and you listen closely to every single detail. And even though not all memories are good ones, his infamous smirk returns to his lips every now and then.
A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)
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findafight · 1 year
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Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia
Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.
All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.
Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.
Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.
Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.
"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."
Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"
"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."
Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.
Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.
He doesn't look at Eddie.
For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.
But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.
What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?
She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.
Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.
She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.
"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."
Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."
Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."
"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."
"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"
There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."
"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."
"okay..."
"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."
Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --
Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."
"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.
"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.
Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."
Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.
But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.
"oh, buddy."
Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"
"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"
"okay..."
"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."
Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.
Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.
Part 3
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atzfilm · 2 months
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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [7] (M)
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— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.
❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞
〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)
— pairing: ot8 x reader, focus: jongho x reader, wooyoung x reader; mingi x reader; 9.7k
— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: MCD, murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore
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Chapter 7:
Sweat sinks into the mats below you, your skin sticking to the rubber. Your hands waver, struggle against the wooden pole gripped in your fists. A slight misstep and you doubt you'd be able to stop it from breaking your neck. He stares at you. His body is not like yours – unmoving, relentless in his hold. You should be a bit proud that you made him sweat at all. There's a bit of perspiration coating his forehead, shiny against the backdrop of darkness. His wear is much more firm that what they usually wear – wispy sheer cloth now a darker, workout-like clothing. He wears nothing on his feet still, blonde hair slicked back, only small strands escaping the style. If it weren’t for the situation you’re in at this very moment, you’d loosen your hold and admire him.
“You will die, nymph, if I pressed even a fraction more.”
Your hold trembles, “I have told you all already that I'm not strong compared to faeries–”
He pulls it from your hands entirely, throwing it to the side. It splinters against the stone wall, you turning your gaze away from smaller pieces flying over. He does not flinch at all, reaching down to grab another pole. This one is more flimsy, plastic as he coats it with powder. You slowly lean forward, desperate to catch your breath. Body aching, you rise to reach for the small bottle of water you brought with you. He looks at you.
“Another.”
You pause in the middle of gulping. “We barely had a break.”
“I never told you that we were pausing. This is not for your comfort. This is to test your limits, to see you turn into a kumiho. To help you defend yourself until you're able to control your own strength at will. Your exhaustion now is mental, nothing more.”
You look down at yourself, body coated in sweat. “Doesn’t look mental to me.”
Mingi merely sighs. “Again, nymph.”
“What happens when I figure out how to control my other self, or whatever you want to call it?”
“We use it to our advantage. We defend against the Seelie, against any who may attempt to dethrone us.”
“And if I don't want that?”
He glances at you, amused. There is no answer to your question but it is an easy guess. They will end your life. Without as much as a second thought.
Not much time has passed since Seonghwa told you what he believed you were. You still vehemently disagree with his assumption, but the others don't. From his guess led you to rarely being left alone with one of them now, except for Mingi, oddly - though you do not doubt one of the others is somewhere around, peeking through a window or hiding in the thickened forest.
Mingi lifts his hand, words mumbled beneath his breath as he stares at the broken stick. It mends itself slowly, morphing into smaller, perfect chips of wood. He flicks his hand, tossing it into the grass. He voted for you to die. Neither of you have brought it up since your life was spared, but you cannot help but wonder. Why did he want you to die? Is it because of Seonghwa, whatever he may have said to him? Did he see your presence as so much of a threat he needed you gone? His personality hasn't changed at all – indifferent, slips of his true personality shown whenever he let his mask fall. From what you can gather from those moments and how he speaks when he doesn't see you around, he's kind. Funny, a bit loud. Endlessly teased by the others. Blunt and honest. A bit more closed off than what you’ve seen before, but it would make sense since he did say he wanted you dead.
You believe you two would be great friends if it weren't for the circumstances surrounding your stay here.
“We leave tonight,” he tosses you the metal stick, and you barely catch it, balancing it between two fingers. “Seonghwa and Jongho will be around. Yeosang and San are hunting but will be back soon, just before we leave. Our house is secure, but it will be more vulnerable while we aren't here. You won't become an expert in Seelie weaknesses in an hour, but this next brief lesson will be enough for you to survive for a few minutes, at least. Until one of us comes to help.”
“How reassuring,” you mumble.
A small smile peeks out. “A brief refresher might be needed. Seelie and Unseelie are similar in many ways, and different in so much more. To put it simply – they thrive on light, on goodness, luck, wealth, care, etcetera. We feed on terror, fear, life, chaos. We may seem evil, of which we are to a certain extent, but our kind are both faeries. Our weaknesses are similar. Seelie in particular, though, has a greater one. How joyous we as Unseelie are when we find someone in despair is quite comparable to how aroused they are when they see pure happiness. It is their greatest weakness.”
“Hate to break it to you Mingi, but there’s little for me to be happy about right now.”
He snorts, the smile breaking out into a wider grin. “That I know. This is just for information purposes. They can tell it is fake just as we can tell when you are truly afraid. It is part of our nature,” he points to your palms. “The metal that you hold in your hands now is blessed by gnomes. It holds in the wielder’s emotions, whether it be negative or positive, and exemplifies it. Right now from where I stand, I can feel the anxious energy emitting from you. With that in your hand, I can feel it tenfold.”
“And this could help…?” Your doubt is evident in the dragging of your words, peering at Mingi. He nods simply.
“When you are happy, hold that. Magic casted on it helps store it inside. It will lure Seelie to you.”
“And I would want that for?”
He takes it from you, pointing it farther away from the two of you. A spark lights, flying through the air. The crack of the tree crumbling beneath the impact echoes around the night, your own eyes widening at the sight. What once was a lively tree is now a crumbled mess of wood and sticks, flames flickering in the night. He whispers against his hair and blows, the fire dissipating.
“For that.” His eyebrow lifts, passing it back to you. “Use it wisely.”
“Yeosang can listen to it. Her thoughts, that is.”
“A bit peculiar,” Seonghwa mumbles, flipping through his book. “Perhaps it is because his gifts have always leaned towards it. He was the first of us to excel at tormenting human minds, it makes sense that he is the only one who can somewhat hear what she thinks.”
“But she is neither a human nor a faerie. It makes less sense that he can do it at all.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?”
“That you will figure out why, at least.”
“There is no reason to anymore.”
Jongho observes him silently, his own thoughts scattered. “You were interested in here before – what changed?”
“Her being a threat to us changed, Jongho. Why would I want to dig deeper into it when I have already told you all that it wasn't a good idea to have her around? One day it will happen. One day she will hurt one of us. Or cause one of us to be hurt. There will be no room for me to say I told you so because we’d be long past that.”
“Then it should be imperative that we start digging deeper into what she can and cannot do.”
Seonghwa turns over his book and flattens it against the wooden desk, peering over his glasses. “And then what? She is already resistant to many of our strengths aside from physical. If I tested her further, it's possible that I may awaken something that's been long buried. I do believe that she doesn't believe she's a kumiho. It's best for us to not trigger her true nature at all. Kumihos are legends – having one rise on Earth now can lead to its destruction.”
“Is it such a good idea to ignore it, though? We would need to know eventually. It’s better for it to happen now rather than later.”
Seonghwa narrows his eyes as he stares at his mate. “Has Mingi started his training again? Why that tree is destroyed in the front yard? Is this why we're having this conversation so I won't be furious once I find out?”
Jongho’s lips remain shut, quickly getting to his feet when Seonghwa stands. “Wait, you have to understand why we're doing it. It is to protect us from Seelie, from other faeries. Having someone like her on our side will be an advantage.”
“Then so be it. Do what you'd like. Don't expect me to endorse it, because I won't,” he avoids Jongho’s touch, shaking his head slightly. “I care for you all dearly, and I would listen to any of your opinions on something this serious without as much as a blink. This situation, this woman, how most of you have thrown my words to the side–” He takes a breath. “There's no use in dwelling on it further. Tell Mingi to meet them at the edge of the Rowan trees. They will be waiting.”
Seonghwa walks to his coat rack, raising his finger slightly to slide the clothing over his body. He does not bother looking back at Jongho, knowing well what expression he'd be showing him now. In a different situation, Seonghwa would follow their words, their instincts. Even if he were wrong, completely, having his words disregarded because of lust –
He cannot fathom how he will continue going on like this.
Mingi lifts the hood over his head, face disappearing beneath the shadow it forms. Yunho, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung wait at the edge of the trees, as Jongho said. Yunho places a hand on Mingi’s shoulder as he moves just behind Hongjoong. None say a word. Their leader closes his eyes, dead leaves trembling beneath their feet. Though there are no markings, they stand in an old cemetery, long decayed bodies dust beneath the ground in wooden caskets. They watch as the forest speaks to them, warm air gusting, pulling the hoodie off of Mingi’s head. Hongjoong’s reaches back, Wooyoung taking his hand, Yunho taking his, and Mingi taking Yunho’s last. Within a blink they’re gone from the rowan trees. Mingi stumbles slightly as his feet land on unholy soil, Wooyoung whistling as he pulls his own hood off his hair.
“Hells, I’d never get used to that,” he grins. “Is everyone here yet?”
“A few more stragglers, then we’d be able to speak to everyone,” Hongjoong says, their steps identical as they follow him up the stone path. It is silly to consider the building in front of them Unseelie headquarters, but it is where the leaders meet for pertinent discussions. Rarely do any of them ever enter the palace, its essence being cared for by chaos itself. The hall remains empty as Hongjoong swings open the door with a nudge.
“Bothersome, the blood still seeps into the carpet from years ago,” Yunho murmurs, glancing down at the stains. It looks fresh, as if they’ve just slain a creature moments ago. This is what they consider the in-between - this place never really changes. That blood could be from someone who hasn’t existed in this realm for over a hundred years ago and it’d still be fresh. Time does not truly exist where they are, though it passes in the realms beyond.
Mingi barely gives it a glance himself, tucking himself further into the cloak he wears. Wooyoung jumps up slightly, wrapping his arm around the taller Unseelie.
“You’re the one that did it Mingi, no need to feel ashamed!” He touches his back, rubbing it lightly. “Remember how you struck down those Seelie? We haven’t even seen those wings in so long.”
Mingi's back aches, the ribbing of his wings straining against his sealed skin. He hasn't let them breathe for months. They yearn to escape his body, to lift in flight. But for some reason unknown to himself, he cannot, no matter how hard he tries.
“Enough, Wooyoung. We have things to do,” Yunho pulls him away from Mingi. Though neither meet each other’s eyes, Yunho can see how Mingi’s tense body relaxes just a bit, the two Unseelie disappearing down the hall. Leaving Hongjoong and Mingi alone.
The last time this happened was just before Hongjoong asked him to turn into your human partner to break things off permanently with you. His body aches at the thought of molding himself into something else again. But he would do it if Hongjoong asked. Without thinking twice about it.
“They will look to us for answers, Mingi,” Hongjoong says, walking slowly as he follows. “Most would want to start a war.”
“Would you allow it?”
Hongjoong thinks for a moment, “No. Not yet. What you’re doing with the girl, training her. It is smart. It may caution her to pause if she turns on us in the future. Perhaps even our livers will remain intact.” Hongjoong pats his stomach, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “At least for the moment anyway.”
“Is this the path we are going to take? Allowing her to continue training, keeping an eye until the very last moment?”
Hongjoong shrugs, “Do you have anything else to suggest? It was not unanimous, but we voted on keeping her around and alive. At least for now. It’s better to strengthen rather than not. Having a Seelie take her away while we’re in the middle of bonding with her would be unfortunate. But that is not all you’re asking, right?”
Mingi cannot come up with another response, mouth opening and closing. Hongjoong stops walking, turning on his heel to look at Mingi. "It is unbecoming of you to hide your own feelings, Mingi. We all witnessed how your body tormented itself when you turned into her dead partner. It rejected it so violently, because you desire her yourself."
Mingi's frown deepens. "Don't start with this."
"You like her Mingi. I never thought I'd see the day." The teasing look spreads across his face, smirk deep enough to show the small curvature of his dimples just above his lips. Mingi tries to ignore the look as much as he can, but Hongjoong only sits in anticipated silence. Very likely waiting for the words of confirmation.
"Why does it matter if that were true?"
Though it is not a certain confirmation, it is enough for Hongjoong. He hums, "We make our decisions as a spark, Mingi. I won't leave any of you behind as I observe this y/n. I want to know how each of you feel before I offer a choice to all of you."
“We said she will stay alive.”
“Momentarily, yes. But that’s not the choice I was speaking to.”
"Then what choice will that be?"
Hongjoong’s canine peeks out, sinking into his bottom lip. "What would be the fun in telling you that?"
  –
Jongho bends the spine in half, wincing slightly as he hears the book’s glue crack. San would be furious seeing him treating the book this way, but alas, he could care so very little. Most of the editions he has on his shelves are what San has gifted him, likely due to how Jongho treated the writing. Books are meant to be read though, he would hate to see unworn copies lining the shelves. His ear twitches, the familiar steps of yours passing his room and down to your own. He never had his door closed until you arrived, many of his spark popping in every now and again to say their greetings. Frankly, he would have kept it open even with your presence if it weren’t for the look Seonghwa threw at him when you first arrived. Now, only the main areas are left open, doors to each of their chambers closed. He knows why Seonghwa worries, why he listens to every conversation someone has with you, why he has carved spells everywhere in the home. The reasoning does not go past him; he is keeping a close-eye on you in the event that you snap. Wooyoung is the only one that has removed the spell on his room though, after his … well, his late night caress with you.
“Your mind always wonders with those tales,” San enters his room, shutting the door behind him. “Mindless enough that you didn’t pay mind to my knockings.”
“I thought you were out hunting with Yeosang?”
“It was brief, there were Seelies hanging around,” San sighs, throwing himself into Jongho’s bed. He glances over, a frown slowly forming. “Yeosang thought it best that we only bring in one miserable human rather than two. So whoever is in dire need of feeding, it’s in the basement. I placed a spell on it to subdue its hysterics temporarily.”
“Basement…” Jongho’s nose wrinkles. “Why do we hide it? She knows we kill humans. In fact, she should encourage it since she is a kumiho.”
“A reformed kumiho, from what we understand. No longer feeding on the livers of men, unfortunately. He thought it best we keep it away so she doesn’t stumble across it.”
“What about you?” Jongho asks softly. His frown slips away as he takes in those three words. “What will you feed on?”
“What I have already done so far, it is enough for now.” “San, that Seelie you ran into while in town with her, he was right. Pushing away your true nature will only make it harder for you to control yourself. You should take his – Hongjoong’s – words into consideration.”
“I am not leaving this spark. I chose this, I chose all of you. Hongjoong knows that, Yeonjun knows that. You know that.” His words carry a sense of finality, leaning up. “I've fought for this, for us to be together as we are now. I gave up everything. And I’ve said that it isn’t up for discussion. I will not leave unless you all kick me out. Is that what you want, for me to be removed?”
Jongho closes his book, “That is not at all what I’m saying, San.”
“For a spark of Unseelie, all of you worry too much about things that do not affect you.” San ignores the look Jongho gives him, waving him off. “I know, no need to give me a talk about how much you all care. I’ve heard it dozens of times.”
“And it seems like it hasn’t sunk in yet despite that.”
“Jongho please,” San closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I love you all, more than you could ever believe. I will protect you with my life if need be. This is a choice that I have made. I will not leave in the face of distant peril. I will not leave because I haven’t grown accustomed to feeding like you. I am here. I’d rather not discuss this again, at least with you. You know where I stand, no?” Jongho’s hand reaches for San’s, and he takes it promptly, lifting it to press his lips on the back. “Promise that you will not discuss this with me again.”
Jongho looks at him, the darkened skin beneath his lids, the redness of his eyes. His inner struggle has not gone unnoticed by any of them - most worried for his well-being. Going against your own nature, it is almost impossible to do. He is only concerned that it may go too far before any of them can help.
“I cannot promise that, you know that,” Jongho says softly. “It may need to be dealt with in the near future.”
“Then promise to not bring it up unless absolutely needed.”
“I promise.”
He leans forward, lips moving from his hand and brushing lightly against Jongho’s lips before moving away. “Alright.”
Jongho can see a bit of the appeal of you. Your otherworldly form, though hidden, could be one reason. But despite that, he can see why Wooyoung so desperately needs your presence. It almost makes sense as to why they all somehow enjoyed you around, even if it were a miniscule amount. That is what kumihos do. It worried them all after it was revealed. Most needed firm assurance from Seonghwa that you aren’t far gone enough for them to worry. Despite how much Seonghwa wanted to hide it, he agreed. At least, for now.
Jongho sits on the single sofa chair, eyes flicking over to you.
Your body is mostly covered with the blanket that rests on the couch, a small book beneath the coloring one that you have. It hasn’t been touched since they’ve come here - none desired to rest in the main living space. After you’ve settled yourself in the room, the space has transformed entirely. Spellbooks thrown on the table in the middle, several potions lining the walls, baskets of supplies scattered about. Oftentimes they all spent their free time in the area, chatting about unimportant things even while you weren’t around. It feels more lived in the more he looks at it. He wonders if the rest noticed the change as well.
“You guys love to stare,” you note. He looks at your face, your gaze amused as your eyes flick back down to the page, marker shading the characters. The blanket is wrapped around your head, face barely peeking from the shade it brings. “Is that what you do to lure people to their demise? Watch them until they notice?”
“Most are too occupied with other matters to pay concern to how we hunt.”
“Hmm.” You continue. “Are you on duty now to watch me, then? Seonghwa put you up to this?”
His nose wrinkles. “He hasn’t told me to do anything.”
“That you’re sure of? Because this is the first time I’ve been alone in a room aside from my own, and you haven’t said anything except to stare.”
“I am just curious about you.”
You raise a brow, gliding your marker across the pages. “I’m an open book. You can ask.”
You’ve spent time with each other, small chats turning into a friendship, even if it’s only the beginning of one. He hasn’t pried into your personal life, only commenting on surface level things that wouldn’t get you agitated. Asking what he is curious about may sway what you two have built. It makes him nervous, which is humorous in itself.
“Is it wrong to say that I expected you to turn into a kumiho and run once Seonghwa told us?”
You snicker softly, closing your marker and grabbing another. “It’s not wrong to say, but it’s a little funny. I don’t believe in myself being this nine-tailed fox you talk about. It would be cool if I were, though. I’d feel less defenseless.”
He nods slowly, “You still don’t believe Seonghwa?”
“How could I? His little speech was based on theories, and everytime I try to talk to him about it he leaves the room. I get not wanting to be around me but it’s a bit much, don’t you think? I did one thing that happened months ago and nothing has happened since. He didn’t even take into account the first time I was almost killed by a Seelie in the bookstore. Nothing happened then.”
Ah, he himself forgot about that. “That is what you believe? That you’re not a kumiho?”
You nod, holding a marker between your lips as you dig for another. “I do.”
“Then so do I,” he agrees simply.
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Even if everyone else doesn’t?”
“Since when did our thoughts have to align? I am my own being, y/n, even if you don’t think it true. So if you believe that you’re fully human, then I believe it as well. It shouldn’t be a hard concept to comprehend.”
You pause. None of them so easily believed anything you’ve said to them, even Wooyoung. You can’t quite decipher what Jongho’s end-goal would be - defying everyone else’s beliefs would only cause him trouble in the end. This would hurt him, listening to your words. Why?
You look back down at your coloring sheet. It’s a simple hobby - you rarely indulge due to your busy life. Now that all you do is wake and train then sleep, it fills in the hours of nothing. What you stare down at now, the deepened orange of a sunset, the wide stretched m birds along the horizon. It used to help distract you, calm yourself. But all you can feel now is fear. Endless fear of what is to come.
“I’m a slightly wrinkled book, but you can ask me anything you’d like.”
You let your feelings subside briefly, eyes flicking up to him. “Everytime I ask Wooyoung about other types of fae he doesn’t even let me ask.”
Jongho laughs, “Because he’s stubborn. But I wouldn’t mind. What do you want to know?”
“Which ones are real.”
“Alright.”
Still suspicious, you continue. “Gnomes.”
“Real.”
“Elves.”
“Real.”
“Selkie?”
“Not the term we use, but yes. Real.”
“Sirens.”
“Real.”
Your eyes widened, “So pirates were telling the truth?”
He nods simply, “Yes. But they’re numbers have dwindled. There is likely less than fifty left in this world.”
“If Sirens are real, then-”
“Mermaids are real too, yes,” A cheeky grin crosses his lips as you stare at him in shock. “A small colony is not too far away from us. I can bring you one day if you’d like.”
“This is where you two have gone,” San enters the room, lip twitching into a frown slightly as he observes you. You stop coloring, sliding the markers back into the small box and standing. “Wait, no need to leave because I’ve entered-”
“Not leaving because of you,” the lie falls from your lips. “Leaving because I have to practice with the majik pole Mingi gave me.”
“Majik… pole…?” He watches as you leave the room, eyes meeting Jongho’s. “Is this a human word that I don’t know? I should know, I watch plenty of their cinema.”
Jongho merely snorts, shaking his head.
It is not often they attend these meetings. It is usually done with all eight of them in attendance - showing power in numbers is what temperaments Unseelie. Sparks vary in size but rarely do they contain over five Unseelie. Hongjoong’s spark, consisting of eight, is a large factor in his position rarely being threatened. His existence as their leader has not shifted in hundreds of years due to it. So standing now, with only three Unseelie behind him, well, it is not ideal. Mingi can see it well - how they look upon them, the sneers that are hidden usually, displayed on their faces. Sparks of two to five stand beneath them, thoughts elsewhere as Hongjoong speaks. Mingi’s gaze shifts to one group in particular. Decades prior their leader attempted a coup, one that ended in her death. None have been tried since, but it has been long. Soon, the Unseelie will grow tired of Hongjoong’s rule. Soon, their rule may end.
“Seelie have always stuck themselves in places they didn’t belong,” One retorts in the crowd. “It was deserved for some to die. But they have killed several of us, while we have done barely half of ten. We should strike instead of hesitating, it makes us look weak.”
Hongjoong laughs at the suggestion, “Then you venture forth yourself, Hanbin. Tell me how it works out.”
“Are you joking with me?”
“How could I not? Their numbers surpass ours by almost double, they can function at night and during the day. We ourselves cannot use majik as well in the daylight. We are at a disadvantage and have always been. It would be nonsensical to venture down the path of death. But if you'd like to, I won't stop you. Your death will be in your own hands.”
It is a jab, even if it is small. Hanbin’s lips pursed, gaze flicking away. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho do not offer any additional points, knowing only to speak when spoken to. Especially at events like these.
“What do we do then?” Another asks from the crowd.
“We wait.”
“For how long?”
Hongjoong's gaze moves to the one who questioned him, eyes narrowing. “Until it is time.”
“They are growing uneasy,” Yunho notes, head covering slipping from his hair. He rests in the chair adjacent to Hongjoong’s rubbing his temple. “Your words will only satiate them momentarily. They will need to know further explanation before trusting in you.”
“They’ve trusted in me for hundreds of years, doubting me now will only bring their peril.”
“We haven’t interacted with the Seelie in hundreds of years too, so there was no need for an uprising. Now that we’re moving closer to a war, it would make sense that they become wary,” Yunho notes, gesturing for Mingi to sit near him. “And we do not have many faerie allies. It makes sense that they worry.”
Mingi ignores the movement, eyes glued to Hongjoong’s. “We should have killed her or given her up to Seelie.”
Hongjoong’s laugh is boisterous, “Give her up? She is a weapon, Mingi. It would be foolish to pass her over. A rare commodity like her cannot just be given away at the inkling of possible chaos. Is that not what we live for?” He moves closer to him, reaching up to pull a loose strand away from his cheek. “Have you grown bored at your old age?”
Mingi steps away slightly, in tune to how Hongjoong’s smile slips. There has been a barrier between them since his last stint, his recovery from the transformation rough. The air thickens a bit in the brief period of silence, Mingi’s eyes anywhere but where he stands.
“I don’t agree with you wanting her dead, but if she is truly what she says she is, would she eventually grow to hate us? It is in her innately,” Wooyoung murmurs, fingers twisting a loose string between them. “She just began to care for me.”
“It’s not impossible, but I’ll try my best not to let it happen,” Hongjoong grabs his overcoat, head flicking to the door. He does not acknowledge the lull in conversation, and neither does Mingi, shifting closer to Yunho. “I have another meeting to attend, but you all can head back. It’s best not to keep our land in such low numbers for so long.”
“I will go with you,” Yunho says, fingertips light against Mingi’s arm as he stands. The touch is brief, Mingi’s breath hitching. “Mingi and Wooyoung can go back.”
“Yun…” Wooyoung whines, stopping once he sees how unsettled Mingi looks. He stands, arm wrapping around his center. “Don’t take too long.”
“I won’t.”
You can barely catch your breath, almost dry heaving into the dirt beneath you. Getting away from them to train yourself as hard as you have wasn’t the greatest idea. But you could hardly stand being in a room with more than one of them right now. You wish you could be back in your apartment, or maybe in your bookstore. The smell of old books was much more comforting than being here. Agreeing to staying was not an easy choice to make.
You just didn’t want to die.
You slowly stand, wiping away the small pebbles that indent your knees and palms, flicking them back to the ground. The evening sun burns on your back as you grip the water bottle.
“Fuck this place,” you murmur to yourself. You lean to grab your bag, stopping in place. Not too far off, deep within the darkened forest, something stands there. It does not say a word, but you can see how the silhouette is hidden behind the thick trunks. It does not move. You can feel your heartbeat pick up its pace, your fingers wrapping around your bag tightly as you stare at it. Something tells you not to turn around, not to give it your back.
“y/n?”
Jongho moves into your line of sight. Your gaze flicks over to him only for a second, but when you look back, the figure is gone. His brows furrow at your cold expression, following your gaze. “What’s going on?”
“There was someone there watching me, Jongho,” you move closer to him, fear riddling your body. “I swear there was.”
He nods slowly, recognition crossing his features. “No need to worry, just pixies.”
“Pixies?” Your voice is incredulous, glancing back at the spot. “I thought no one else could enter this land?”
“Pixies aren’t allowed to enter our territory, yes. But they live in the rowan trees. That lining that you see around us, it’s the barrier between us and them. They haven’t been really active when you’re around, so I’m a bit shocked that they showed themselves to you anyway,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Seonghwa isn’t going to be happy they're still hanging around.”
“Are they…?”
“Will they hurt you?” Jongho asks, and you nod. “No. They’re curious faeries, a bit mischievous, but they only care for the trees. Maybe they will make you trip over a branch or fall into a fit of laughter, but that’s all. They’re just curious about you - not many see kumihos in person.”
“How do they know about that?”
“They listen to the trees speak, y/n. For us, our home is a giant one.” He winces at something you cannot hear, turning toward the house. Though your senses aren’t as heightened as Jongho’s, you can hear doors opening and shutting loudly, a familiar voice erupting throughout. “An Unseelie is running through the halls to look for you. You should go and meet up with him, less of a chance he’d break something.”
“Maybe later,” you say. Jongho looks a bit surprised, brow raised. “Believe it or not, sometimes I do want to spend time with people other than him.”
“Me?” His cheek lifts, eyes flicking between yours. “Wooyoung has monopolized you. I just thought you enjoyed it.”
“I do enjoy him, but I also enjoy hanging out with you.”
Jongho does not respond. His cheeks lift at your words, glancing at the house before resting on you. Though no words are exchanged, he turns and walks toward the woods, your steps following him close. There is little hesitation as he holds out his hand, your fingers easily sliding into his palm. Just as you hear the backdoor of the house creak, Jongho and you disappear into the brush.
“Has she not had enough of him?” His voice is sour, disgruntled brows seemingly permanently furrowed. Seonghwa merely rolls his eyes, shifting another box into the corner with the flick of a finger. It has barely been an hour since you left with Jongho, and Wooyoung has decidedly glued himself to Seonghwa’s quarters. He’s not as used to Wooyoung seeking his advice, the Unseelie often only letting Hongjoong’s whisper sweet words to him. More recently, though, despite his stance on your presence in their home, Wooyoung lets himself into his personal areas more often than not, pestering him about you. “She’s spent most of her time with him idly by, she should miss me more.”
“Overcrowding her isn’t going to help her seek you, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa mumbles, glancing over his work. “Has Hongjoong arrived yet?”
“But she likes me more,” he insists, glaring at his mate.
“Stop acting like an unruly pixie and give her space. Where is Hongjoong?”
“It isn’t fair, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Wooyoung, I’ve asked the question twice already.”
Wooyoung sighs, rubbing his head. “He stayed behind a while longer. Yunho stayed with him just in case.”
“And Mingi?”
“He came back with me then left, saying something about seeking refuge outside this home. You know how he is, with his pretty words.”
Seonghwa narrows his eyes, thinking. “Did any of them say when they’ll be coming back?”
“Likely not until tomorrow. But for Mingi, who knows. Maybe Yunho or San can find him meandering the unholy lands.”
That is the one he is worried for. Seonghwa steps to a window, gaze resting upon the thickened forest. Jongho knows better than to keep you in the rowan trees after dark, so Seonghwa isn’t too worried. Nothing is out there now that could stir something within you. Wooyoung steps near him, hand wrapping around his limp fingers. He squeezes it once, lips pressing against his jaw before stepping away and out.
Seonghwa rubs his temple. Whatever Hongjoong may or may not be up to, he knows well enough that it’s not good. He hates the unnecessarily lavish mansion, and hates appeasing Unseelie to stop a revolt. Politics is something none of them enjoy. So his stay after everything has been settled is just odd in itself.
He does not like this feeling.
Not at all.
Jongho holds a finger to his lips, looking back at you. You nod, shifting closer to his body as you look ahead. The lake is vast. These woods surprise you with the amount of differentiation of ecosystems hidden. Likely due to it being filled with faeries and other magic. You do recall the townsfolk speaking of avoiding venturing deeper into the forest. The festival that you attended months ago was another way of preventing anything nefarious from sneaking out from the leaves. You didn’t believe it at the time, but now it makes sense. Though it did not stop Seonghwa from seeking you out.
Jongho lightly touches your shoulder, guiding you to sink further behind the large bush. You do not see it at first.
The water shimmers, current swirling. The lake seems to bubble, large fins rising from its depths. You hold a hand over your mouth as you gaze ahead, heads appearing one by one. They’re too far for you to see clearly, but Jongho warned you that this was a safe enough distance. He could protect you if it ever came to it, but he preferred to not start another quarrel that wasn’t needed.
The mermaids aren’t what you imagined. Heads covered in scales, luminescent. Their laughter flows through the air and into your ears. Like bells chiming as wind flows through them. They’re alluring - beauty behind what your mind could conjure up by itself. Jongho’s hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining. His whisper is barely heard, but you can see the water moving. The mermaids turn to where Jongho and you are, but they do not move. The current grows wild, thrashing against the shoreline. He pulls you away from it all, your head turning back for a last glance.
Though they’re too far away for you to see details of their faces, their stare unsettles you.
As if they are warning you.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you closer,” Jongho explains, sending you a small smile. “Seonghwa would kill me if I let something happen. We already have enough happening to last a lifetime.”
“I’m thankful you brought me here, anyway,” you say, letting his hold help you over a deep hole. “What spell did you cast, just before we left?”
“High tides,” he grins. “They began sensing someone was watching. Unlike the mermaids from the tales, they can breathe on land. But they much prefer the coolness of water. I stopped them from getting closer to us as we left,” he glances up at the sky. “It’s getting late.”
“Is San going to yell at us?” you joke, and he laughs lightly.
"Believe it or not, he’s quite adventurous in comparison to Seonghwa. He loves so tenderly, there has never been one kinder," Jongho says softly. "He praises me like I'm the most, but we all know it is him. Not one of us matches his devotion."
You’re not too sure how to respond to that, San’s resolute anger at your presence only waning slightly. You’re sure he’d prefer if you weren’t here at all, even though he voted to save your life. But Jongho believes you when you say you’re not a kumiho, so you’ll believe him when he speaks of San.
"You're my favorite human friend," Jongho whispers, gazing at the branches that hang over you. "I'm sorry that I want you to be more than that."
Now this is surprising. You stop walking, hand leaving him. He looks at you, cheeks flushed. “Ah, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
"More?" Is all you can muster to say.
His soft gaze resting on yours. It's hard to keep your eyes steady on his, the feeling leaking from the heavy look more than what you've ever experienced before. With Wooyoung, with Soobin. They looked at you lovingly, sure, but Jongho? Your stomach twists the more you hold his gaze.
"I'm sorry that I am so desperate to be your lover."
The breeze whispers through the leaves, hairs resting on his forehead lifting back from his skin. A scar from the banquet hall fight months prior shines at you. A reminder of what he's done, what he did, and what he will continue to do, as long as the others agree to it. It's overwhelming, these strange feelings appearing with them all. All unique and different, but still quite new.
"Why are you trying to go where I can't follow,?" He asks softly after the brief quiet.
"I'm right here."
His lips curl into a soft smile, "You were in that mind of yours. I can't go there."
You swallow. "I'm scared, Jongho."
"I know," his eyes soften, lids heavier. "It's a lot to say when we haven't known each other for that long. And it frightens me even more that I feel this way. You don’t need to do anything about my feelings. I’ll be fine as I am now."
His eyes flick to the sky, “But we should probably head back. Seonghwa must be furious.” He holds out his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you forward through the path you took.
Furious is an understatement.
Seonghwa paces back and forth on the edge of the woods, hands crossed against his chest, angered eyes unmoving as you two enter the clearing. Jongho lets go of your hand, opening his mouth to speak. Seonghwa does not allow it though - frown deepening as he waits for you two to come closer.
“I lost track of time.”
“I can see that.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. You expect seething words from Seonghwa, but he only sighs, waving him off.
“Go inside. I need to speak with her by myself.”
Jongho gives you a pitiful look before disappearing from sight, leaving the two of you alone. As alone as you can be, with the watching eyes of everyone in the home behind you. He rubs his forehead, long, exasperated breaths continuing to leave his lips. His expression is pained as he meets your eyes, lips downturned.
“You continue to cause more trouble than you are worth.”
“What a nice thing to say,” your tone drips with sarcasm, crossed arms resting against your chest. His gaze roams over you. It is nothing sensual, mute annoyance at best. “Good thing I don’t plan on being here so long.”
“Oh?” Seonghwa’s brow raises. “What will you do without us?”
“Once I have trained enough, I’m leaving. I’ll take care of myself, far far away from here.”
“I have no complaints about that,” Seonghwa shrugs. “I just wonder if the others would be as amicable.”
Wooyoung. And now, Jongho.
“They will live.”
There are questions in his eyes, likely because of the ‘they’, but he does not probe further, sighing. “I just want everyone to be safe, kumiho. Especially Wooyoung. He has grown into our spark, mended himself with ease. There is reason why he feels that he must be loved by us all without as much as a slight worry. His insecurities on being the last have not gone away, despite the years. Hongjoong has tried to reassure him endlessly. Giving him leeway on things that happen, using his punishments as just time to reflect. But sometimes his inner turmoil catches up to him.”
“So he thinks he cares for me this way, but it's not the case.”
Seonghwa hums, likely choosing his next words carefully. “I wouldn't speak for Wooyoung, but we've all experienced these moments with him. I am sure he cares for you tremendously, but what comes into question is how much. Is it because he truly truly wants you to be his, or is it because he wants you to not reject him? That worry hasn't gone away and it's been hundreds of years. I doubt it will suddenly mend itself now. I am concerned, and I know it's wildly unserious for an Unseelie to, but I do. I hope that you will care for his heart.”
His lips lift slightly. “Perhaps it would have been better if you were a human, after all.”
“Well I am, and nothing has changed.”
He does not say anything, looking back at the house. “I will kill you if you hurt any of them. Kumiho or not.”
“You will try.”
His expression breaks, smile growing. “Haven’t you gotten bold?”
He watches you, how your laugh erupts from your lips. Eyes closed, hand over your lip muffling the sweet sound. His fingers grip the cup, eyes roaming to your body sinking into Wooyoung's side. How you do it with such ease, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you closer. He barely gives you a glance as he does so. Seonghwa knows his own affection is opposite to his mate's. He knows that he's aggressively avoided each chance he has had with you alone. So the bitterness itching the back of this throat shouldn't be there. He wanted you gone – not killed, just far away from them. For their safety, for their protection.
He hates this.
Wooyoung presses his lips against your temple, your lashes fluttering at the soft caress. Seonghwa places his cup down, the click of the ceramic against the marble catching only Mingi's attention. He meets his eyes. Mingi does not say anything, but he does not need to. He could see the uneasiness spilling from Seonghwa even if the others could not. His curious eyes only confirm it.
Seonghwa looks away.
“Nymph, training.” Mingi says simply. Seonghwa sees how you tense at the word. Wooyoung does as well, thumb rubbing your arm before letting you go. The rest carry on their conversations as you follow Mingi out the room, Wooyoung's eyes lingering on the empty doorway.
Just as the doors close behind them, Wooyoung leans forward. “You could hide your jealousy just a bit, hyung. I could feel you seething before seeing it.”
“Don’t say things that make zero sense.”
“A lie within truth, you’ve become an expert at it,” Wooyoung waves him off. “Worry not, I'm jealous too.”
“I said –”
“And I chose not to listen,” he grins, poking his side before stepping away.
A few days have passed since then. The others slowly came back, Hongjoong still away for a while. Mingi barely acknowledged after the small training session with you, Yunho sending you a smile before the two disappeared into their respective rooms. You’ve spent some time with Wooyoung, the silence filled with his tales of the in-between. He didn’t notice how your face contorts as he explained their feasts, bodies piled as the Unseelie celebrated. Their feeding habits are not unknown to you, but listening to how much he enjoys killing only makes your chest ache. A vivid reminder of what you’ve gotten yourself into.
“Your face is twisted,” he points out after a moment. “Is something disturbing you?”
“I’d rather not hear about your murders, if you don’t mind.”
He laughs. “I am an awful being, solaris,” his smile slips. “There are things that you will never know, never fathom. You may never look at me the same if it came out. That is what worries me, what keeps my mind open at night. It is why I’ve rarely rested since you’ve come here. Why I cannot leave you longer than a few days because I am desperate for you to yearn for me the same. And I know that is impossible, due to your true nature,” his fingers shake as he takes yours into his, “And despite my being of chaos, I do not want it to fall on you.”
“You can tell me what you’re hiding, and I will listen, Wooyoung.”
He shakes his head, “I cannot.”
“This, between the two of us, will end if you do?”
His breath hitches, eyes meeting yours. “It will.”
The fear of not knowing would linger if he never says it. And he knows that. He will not utter it, even if you pry over and over. Even if you leave. Because he is still an Unseelie. And he admits that he is selfish. You could be letting out your last dying breath, and he wouldn’t say it.
Oh, how that scares you terribly.
“You expect me to stay after you’ve told me this?” It is a genuine question, one that you really need answered.
“I expect you to trust me when I say you being here is the only way we can protect you. I expect you to understand that once you leave, you will be taken by the Seelie. And we may never meet eyes again.”
You love him. You do. But what you’ve learned since your last love leaving you is that you can love again. It will hurt terribly, leaving them, but you will live. You will grow. Perhaps the look in your eyes makes him panic, his fingers tightening in their grip. You have seen him angry, hurt, confused. The way he looks at you now frightens you more than any of those times. It is something he has only slipped when you’re in bed together, but seeing it now, it leaves you utterly cold.
Obsession.
He will not let you go. So your next question is fairly straightforward.
“Will you try to kill me if I leave you?”
His eyes widened. “Not… I…” He pauses. “You have to understand the others and their position, solaris. We are not good. But, San, San is good. He is innately good. He has never been like the other Seelies, he has always been different. He has always cared differently. Faeries are selfish, we all are. But he, him, there is not one faerie who can surpass how much care he has in him. And I so desperately want to,” Wooyoung stares at his hands, slowly curling his fingers into his palms. “I want to be good like San. Will you love me, then?” His eyes seemingly glow in the dim light, “Or will I have to always be second to him?”
“There isn't a ranking here, Wooyoung.” And what is he speaking to? Neither of you have ever brought up San in conversations. You don’t even love San, let alone like him. Has someone told him something you haven’t?
“Oh, but there is. You hate Hongjoong, that is what I am sure of. You care for Jongho, for Yunho. But me… even though we have been together, you do not care for me as I do you. I can feel it. I can feel your hesitation when it comes to me.”
“Enough.”
You pull your hand from his, his grip limp. He stands just as you do, eyes flicking behind you. There is no need for you to turn and see who it is, his resolute tone enough. His body is close enough that you must feel the heat emitting from his skin. His fingers lightly brush against your forearm as he moves to get to Wooyoung. You are not unaffected by the brief contact, sliding down your sleeve to get rid of the feeling.
San makes his way in front of his lover, sliding onto one knee. “What are you speaking of to her, Wooyoung? When was the last time you fed?”
“Just days ago, San. I’m okay,” his tone is insistent, eyes flicking to you. “I won’t do anything, I just want to speak with her.”
“Have you heard yourself?” San asks, shaking his head. “This isn’t good for you, letting your thoughts roam like that.”
The way he speaks to him is strange. How his hand is tight around Wooyoung, the other pressed harshly on his shoulder.
As if he is restraining him.
Their words are quieter as you watch, your attention moving to just behind them, on your porch. Your eyes begin to widen.
Something rests on the railing, the same eyes that stared at you through the forest only nights ago. The ones that Jongho insisted were just pixies. The creature grips the railing, large feathered wings draping against its back, gaze still on yours. You stand up quickly, San and Wooyoung looking at you.
“San–” You can barely let his name come out, their heads turning to look back. There isn’t enough time for any of you to register what is happening, the creature breaking through the glass. Its claws sink into Wooyoung’s shoulders, its grip pulling him away from San and out through the broken paned doors. The scream that erupts from San is agonizing, but everything happens too quickly. You can hear crashing downstairs, likely the same creatures attacking everyone in the home. A firm grip on your arm pulls you back. You look to see Mingi, blackened blood smeared on his body as he steps in front of you. His clothing is shredded, barely held together. You left your practicing gear outside, and you’d doubt you’d be able to reach it before one of these things grabs you. All you can do is stand behind him as he moves forward, panic rising in your body. San is fighting off the creatures with ease - oddly none have targeted you just yet.
They seem to be able to fight each one that appears through the crumbled wall with ease, until more and more pile inside. You hear his scream before you see it. San’s body is thrown across the room and into you, the two of you tossed out the room and into the hallway. Mingi yells, but he cannot reach you. You struggle beneath San’s body, struggling to lift him off of you. He grunts, pulling himself off of you.
He stumbles onto his feet but cannot seem to hold his own body weight up, falling to his knees. You’re able to grab him before he hits the floor face first, blood coating your fingers. You rest on your bottom, holding his upper torso on your legs. You look down the hallway, the blur of bodies fighting off the creatures. You don’t have the strength to drag him and you’re afraid to, the gaping hole in his chest stopping you from attempting.
It is all so dark. His blood covers every inch of your palms, seeping through the cracks of your fingers as you desperately press the cloth over it. It is of no use – it bleeds through, dripping to the wood beneath your feet. It splatters against your cheek as he attempts to speak. A shh escaping your lips. You can see how the others fight, their gazes moving to San beneath you, yearning to help and be by his side. Their loud shouting occupies your ears, how they ache, unable to stop the fight even briefly to pull San away from it all. To help him live. To save his life. You are useless in saving him. You haven't the knowledge or spells to mend the deep wound. His fingers wrap around yours that hold him, a soft smile showing the blood that reflects against stained teeth. He will die soon, and you can only look at him in grief. Until, that is, until Mingi's words sink into you.
“Seelie and Unseelie are similar in many ways, and different in so much more. To put it simply – they thrive on light, on goodness, luck, wealth, care, etcetera. We feed on terror, fear, life, chaos. We may seem evil, of which we are to a certain extent, but our kind are both faeries. Our weaknesses are similar. Seelie in particular, though, has a greater one. How joyous we as Unseelie are when we find someone in despair is quite comparable to how aroused they are when they see pure happiness. It is their greatest weakness.”
You look down at him. Your fear, your hurt, it should be able to help him now. To let him feed, gain his strength back. But your angst seems to not affect him at all - the blood continuously pouring from his lips, his body barely holding on. Unseelie wouldn’t hesitate to use you to help themselves. But San, he does not seem even the least bit phased.
You remember when San saved you from the Seelie at the train station, the words uttered to San odd, but not notable enough for you to inquire about it at the time.
“You have forgotten yourself, San. There is only so much you can do before she knows as well.”
San is not an Unseelie.
He never was an Unseelie.
You use your free hand to wipe your tears away, forcing your eyes shut. The idea is likely hopeless, your sadness might be too deep to push away, but you can’t sit here and let him die. Your fingers wrap tightly around his hand, willing yourself to think of something happier. You haven’t thought of Soobin in a while, but it’s the only warm memory you can think of. You look at San, how his eyes stay on yours. How the pulse of his heart seems to slow down, blinks following suit. You will yourself to focus on happier memories, letting one hand go to push his hair away from his face. The memories are not enough, though. His hold loosens on your hand, steady eyes glossing over.
No.
“y/n, move!”
You turn to the side, one of the creatures holding Mingi against the wall. He grunts, elongated limbs thrashing against its face. He cannot break free.
“San…” You whisper, “Please.”
His smile slips, grip loosening completely. You’re unable to leave his side, no matter how much the voices shout at you to go. To leave San behind. Claws dig harshly into your shoulder blades, pulling you away from him. You try reaching for the framing of your room, but the creature is exponentially stronger than your own grip, ripping you from the home, out the gaping hole they took Wooyoung through.
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venerawrites · 1 month
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Hi! I feel so blessed to have found your blog, your fluff is top tier 🫶🏻 Can I please request fluff for Kakashi x fem!reader where they take their son (who looks exactly like Kakashi) to meet Team 7 and they're all enamoured by baby Kakashi and how happy he is with wife reader? I feel like it'd be so cute~ I hope that's an alright request. Thank you so much! 😘
author's note: this is such a cute request and it has been sitting in my drafts for a while, since I have been waiting to be in the right mood for it! It was such a pleasure to write it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you for requesting! <3
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If there was anything Konoha did best, it was celebrating.
Compared to many of the other villages, the Leaf had some form of a festival almost every month. The first Sakura trees have blossomed? Celebration. The war is won? Celebration. The Hokage has a birthday? Celebration. 6 months without any outside threats? Celebration.
For the outsiders these constant festivities were both bizzare and a bit foolish. They could only imagine how much money were spend from the yearly budget, yet somehow the village blossomed economically. The other Kages tried to ask Lady Tsunade more than once in the past how exactly do they manage to do that, but they could never get anything more than a smug smile from her.
You, unlike your husband, loved a good party. During events like this everything felt different - the people were happier, the streets were busier, even the air felt more fresh! You have been waiting for the Spring festival for a while now - not only because you loved trying all the delicious street food, but also because this year you were taking your baby with you.
Being only a few months old, your son was an exact copy of Kakashi. His hair, his eyes, his nose, his lips, even the way he pouted was absolutely the same as your partner. There were times when you sat next to his crib, looking at him for hours, trying to find at least one thing in his appearance that he may took after you. While there were none, you found solace in the fact that he showed at least some traits of your personality - the main one being obsessed with Kakashi, of course.
As you watched your husband gently rocking your child in his arms and whispering sweet words to him, you couldn't stop the smile from spreading wide on your lips. Kakashi hasn't noticed your presence by the door yet, too busy booping your baby's nose and listening to his happy laughter.
He was definitely the favourite parent.
"I can't believe I carried him for nine months and I am still the second best in his eyes", you finally said, making Kakashi whip his head in the direction of your voice. He smiled sheepishly at you, his one free arm extending for you to take.
"You know that is not true, my dove", he tried to reassure you, his attention moving back to the bundle of joy who kept twitching in his grip, "No one can replace mommy! Isn’t that right, little man?"
Almost if understanding his words, the baby turned toward you, reaching one of his small hands toward your face. You immediately melted at the gesture, before carefully grabbing it in yours and lying numerous small kisses on his little fingers.
“Do we really have to go?”, your husband groaned, looking at you pleadingly. If it was up to him the three of you would stay in your house, enjoying a cosy evening just playing and goofing around the living room. With his new role as a Hokage, your time together was limited anyway and he liked to grab any chance he got to spend a few hours with you at home.
“You were the one that promised Naruto you would finally let him see the baby”, you cocked one of your eyebrows and Kakashi immediately shut his mouth, knowing he cannot argue further.
Even since you told Team 7 that you are pregnant, Naruto has shown an enormous enthusiasm about welcoming the baby. He self proclaimed himself “the best uncle to ever exist” and has bought dozen of plush toys and clothes before you even found what the gender is. Both you and Kakashi found this amusing, yet cute, promising him that he would be one of the first people to see your son once he is born.
However, things didn't go as planned and since he was on a mission outside Konoha for the last three months and a half, Naruto was now one of the last people to meet your child. Sakura has asked you countless of times during this period to let her and Sasuke come to your house, but feeling it was unfair to Naruto, you refused every single time.
Now that the blonde was back, however, all three were eagerly waiting to meet the young Hatake.
Kakashi gently passed you the baby, while he went to the corridor to grab the baby carrier wrap he liked to use. One thing about your husband was that he absolutely refused to use a pram.
"It is safer for them to be close to me", he often said, not even hiding his overprotectiveness. Despite your baby already being the village's favourite, he only allowed people to watch him, but never touch him or hold him. It was almost like your son was some kind of a rare jewel, which was so delicate, it had to be admired from a far. And while you found Kakashi's behaviour funny, he was being very serious about it, going as far as to glare and hiss a warning at Guy and Genma every time they tried to pinch your baby's chubby cheeks.
Once the little one was safely wrapped against your partner, you both made your way toward the village centre, where you could already hear music sounding. The streets were flooded with both adults and children, who were all eager to try some foreign food and watch special performances. Every year there were entertainers coming from different lands, performing traditional songs and dances from their cultures. While you knew you couldn't stay for all of them, since you had to put your child to bed quite early, you were excited to see at least some.
You felt one of Kakashi's arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him, while he shielded your son's body with the other one. While there were none real threats or risk for any of you, the amount of people made the man anxious. You were just about to grab his hand and try to make him relax, when Naruto's loud voice sounded from somewhere in front of you.
"Kakashi-sensei! Y/N! Over here!", he waved his hands energetically in the air, while both Sasuke and Sakura looked away embarrassed from his behaviour. Your smiled at the blonde, waving back, while your husband couldn't do anything else than let out a sigh.
Once you were a few meters away, the Uzumaki ran toward you, his whole face lighting up once his eyes met those of your son. He pushed past you, without even paying any attention to you, before leaning his head close to the baby's.
" Kakashi! That's your twin, dattebayo!", he shouted and moved his finger between his sensei and your son. Kakashi flicked his hand away, glaring harshly at his student. You sniffled a laugh, before you felt Sakura's hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you offered a smile to both her and Sasuke.
"Don't touch, step back and only watch from a distance", Kakashi instructed, his eyes narrowing at Naruto. The blonde, however, didn't acknowledge his words in any way, instead turning toward you.
"Can I hold him?", he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
"No!", Kakashi immediately answered for you and you rolled your eyes at your husband, before moving toward the males.
"Of course you can!", before your husband can protest, you gave him a stare and he reluctantly picked up your son from the carrier wrap. He held him in his hands for a few more seconds, eyeing Naruto with suspicion.
"Be very, very, VERY careful!", he said, while passing the wriggling baby to the boy's stretched out arms, "And make sure to support his head! No, not like that... Naruto, I swear to Kami-"
You cut off the white haired male's rambling by wrapping your arm around his waist and placing your head against his shoulder. The Uzumaki was doing just fine, but Kakashi being Kakashi started to panic just at sight of someone else holding your little treasure.
The baby seemed to like the blonde, as he giggled, stretching his small hand toward his face. Sakura, who has been patiently waiting for her sensei to relax a bit, immediately rushed to her teammate's side, uncapable of controlling herself longer. She wriggled her forefinger in front of the child's face, her heart melting once he caught it.
"Hello, little one! I am auntie Sakura!", the baby grinned at her with its toothless smile and she let out an "aww" sound, before turning to you and your husband, "Kakashi-sensei, he really is your exact copy! Y/N, are you sure that's your child?"
You laughed at her joke, before shrugging your shoulders and pressing yourself closer to Kakashi.
"Trust me, I ask myself that every single day!"
Finally tearing your gaze away from Naruto and Sakura, you looked over to Sasuke, who remained frozen in his place. His eyes were focused on the little baby and there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but unlike his teammates he maintained a safe distance. Feeling someone was watching him, he turned his head in your direction, his cheeks going bright red once he realized you caught him staring.
"Sasuke", you smiled at him and everyone's attention went to the Uchiha, "Do you want to hold him too?"
The dark haired male gulped, his eyes widening. He nervously scratched his shoulder, his gaze going down to his feet.
"I...", he became silent, stealing one more glance at the baby. You found it almost amusing how he was a fearsome ninja that could take dozen of enemies at the same time, yet he felt scared to hold a tiny human.
Looking over at Naruto, you nodded your head, signalling him to pass your son to Sasuke. The blonde let out a huff, dragging his feet toward his teammate.
"Be careful! And hold the head!", he warned the Uchiha, who rolled his eyes in response.
"I know how to hold a baby, dobe! I am not stupid!"
"Language!", Kakashi warned next to you and you looked up at him, only for him to shake his head. It must've been hard dealing with these two for so many years, yet you knew your husband wouldn't had it any other way.
At this moment, surrounded by so much love and happiness, you felt like you finally had everything you wanted in life - an amazing husband, a healthy child and enormous support by anyone around you. If you could choose to re-live only one moment of your life, it would be this.
"You okay, my dove?", Kakashi whispered and you nodded your head, laying a small kiss on his covered chin.
"Never been better."
Unbeknown to you, all of Team 7 smiled at both of you, admiring how happy their sensei was. After decades of suffering and loss, Kakashi took the leap of faith and opened his heart to you. While he was unsure in the beginning if he was ready to be with someone and have a family, looking back he was glad he did.
Pulling down his mask, he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, before nuzzling his nose against it.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
cc artwork: Pietro Smurra
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unsolved-duvall · 1 year
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Eddie would move the moon and the stars for you if you asked him to. He looks at you and genuinely believes whole universes could flicker into exist in your eyes.
So, whenever you’re having a bad day he will not stop until you’re feeling better, because he cannot stand to see you upset. And as much as you truly do love him, sometimes, just sometimes, he gets a little carried away.
He knows there are lots of little things that can help you feel better - things that take your mind off of whatever’s going on. And Eddie is determined to do every. single. one.
He would get home to find you still in bed, exactly where he left you that morning. So, he immediately knew something was wrong. But he also knew that when you were like this, there was a good chance you didn’t even know why you felt that way. You just knew you didn’t want to feel anything anymore.
So, after he’s knelt down next to you and kissed your forehead, he starts making a mental list of everything he’s going to do for you that night.
He’s going to make your favourite food (he’s a genuinely good cook, something only you know), he’s going to go and rent your favourite movie to watch with you. He’s going to make the couch into the comfiest damn couch that ever did exist. He’s talking loads of blankets, cushions, hot water bottles, everything.
Because he knows how much you like to cuddle up next to him.
And so that’s exactly what he does.
Or tires to do.
Because Eddie gets… distracted. Very easily. So, whilst he’s telling you that he’s going to go and run some errands, so he can get your favourite film, he starts tidying up the bedroom. And then twenty minutes later he still hasn’t left to do what he said he was going to do.
And then he starts cooking the dinner, because he forgot he was meant to be going out first. And whilst dinner is cooking he starts getting the couch all set up for you and him. He’s turning off the big lights, because he knows how much you hate them, and turning on one soft lamp instead. But he’ll turn that off as well once you’re watching a film, because you like to watch films in the dark. Which, of course he knows.
And then, oh shit, he remembers that the food is in the oven and he’s been sat on the floor next to the couch for half an hour because he found one of his old notebooks and he was reading old things he wrote.
And now he’s stressed. Because this was not how tonight was meant to go. There’s no film, no food, and in his humble opinion, the couch does not look comfortable enough for a movie night.
And you’re still in bed.
So, he makes his way back to the bedroom. Ready to all but get on his knees and apologise for messing up your night.
But you don’t care.
Not even a little bit.
Because you look at Eddie and everything that hurt, hurts a little bit less. Everything that was upsetting you, can’t upset you as much when he’s next to you.
And you’re listening to him tell you everything he tired to do. The film, the food, the super-comfy-blanket-extravaganza-couch setup that never came to be.
And you’re crying. And now he’s nearly crying because oh my god he’s ruined it.
But he hasn’t.
You’re crying because no one has ever cared that much about you. No one else would ever put that much time and effort into making you feel better. No one would get that upset because it hadn’t gone to plan.
But Eddie would. And that was enough. You didn’t need anyone, or anything, else.
So you tell him that. In your own way. You shuffle back against the wall and hold your arms out, silently asking Eddie to get into bed next to you. Which he does, immediately.
And he scoops you up into a bone-crushing hug and you’re all tangled limbs and hair in each others faces and breaths mixing together as you try to get as close to him as physics and the rules of the universe will allow you to.
Your legs are tangled with his, your head is resting in the crook of his neck. His hands are rubbing up and down your back, and he’s pressing delicate kisses into the top of your head.
And he realises then that this was all you needed. You just needed him. To be close to him. So that’s what he gives you. He holds you against him and tells you little stories to distract you.
He tells you about his mom. About Uncle Wayne. About the time he almost got arrested, but didn’t. Because it was a completely innocent misunderstanding. But he did manage to steal his favourite pair of handcuffs from Hopper because of it; so he thinks it was a good day.
And you take in every word. But your eyes are getting heavy, and your body starts to sink into him. He feels it, he can hear your breathing getting slower, more relaxed. And so he drops his voice to an even lower, softer tone than before. He tightens his grip on you, just to remind you you’re safe. In case you forgot.
You could never forget. Not when Eddie was holding you.
And suddenly nothing seems as scary as it did when he wasn’t there. And you fall asleep with your limbs tangled around his, and Eddie thanks his lucky stars that you let him love you.
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dragon-ascent · 9 months
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You see Liyue's god, Morax, on the street and you lose your mind.
★彡takes place centuries ago, when Rex Lapis was said to be close with his people, Rukkhadevata still existed, etc.
In Teyvat, where gods and monsters roam the land, it is only natural that stories of the divine weave their way into daily life. As a child, you'd been accustomed to poring over books and pictures of the gods of other nations. Like Baal with her elegant, thundering might that could cleave whole islands in half in one stroke, and the playful Barbatos, who could blow away even the tallest mountains with a single gust of wind. They were all so charming, so ethereal, so complex. Your own god was no less impressive - the beautiful and divine Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, whose blessings of wisdom gave rise to your thriving nation.
The god that fascinated you the most, however, was Morax - or Rex Lapis, as the people of his nation so reverently called him.
In all the stories you'd read and the plays you'd seen, Rex Lapis was depicted as a fierce warrior god who could overcome any adversity thrown his way. He'd minted Mora from his own divine body, altered the landscape of Liyue during major battles, and bestowed blessings of illumination upon his adepti companions.
Most importantly, he is handsome.
Yes, it's a little silly to swoon over a religious deity, but...look at him. Every story you've read depicted him in the same way, be it in Inazuman manga or Sumerian amar chitra katha: long dark hair that was securely fastened by a gilded pin; toned arms that shimmered with hues of black and gold; and glimmering amber eyes set upon a face that seemed to be chiseled by Celestia itself.
Honestly, Rex Lapis is the main reason you're interested in pursuing higher studies in Liyue rather than in Sumeru, much to your parents' disdain. Why go to Liyue when Sumeru has a perfectly reputable Akademiya with well-established Darshans? But they know they cannot stop you: when your reverence for Rex Lapis has far transcended your devotion to Rukkhadevata almost since the moment you were born, why shouldn't you gain the opportunity to get closer to the god you love most?
So the day you get the acceptance letter from your dream academy in Liyue Harbor, it's a most joyous occasion indeed. After much jumping and screaming and cheering, you lay out your plan for when you first get to Liyue to settle into your dorm for the academic year:
Step 1: Find Rex Lapis.
Step 2: Woo him and become his consort...or something.
A masterfully-crafted plan, is it not?
---x---
It's not a far journey from Sumeru; the two are neighboring countries after all, and it takes about a day and a half by cart to get to the harbor. That's where Rex Lapis is most active, so you should certainly be able to catch a glimpse of him at least once during your fortnight here, yes?
Throughout almost the entire journey, your nose is buried in stories of Rex Lapis mingling with his people. Oftentimes this is done while he is incognito, his golden eyes the only thing giving away his identity.
Yes, that's another thing about him that wildly interests you - out of all the archons, he's one of the closest to his people. That's the whole basis for your master plan, no? It wouldn't work if he were to be cooped up in Taishan Mansion like he was originally supposed to be.
The scenery shifts from thick forests to vast valleys, and before you know it you've crossed the Sumeru-Liyue border. The landscape shifts to warmer colours, the ever-present green now blending with hues of red and gold. Mountains dot the horizon, and your heart pounds with excitement at the thought of Rex Lapis having formed them all himself. And, the moment you see a Statue of the Seven come into view and it's Rex Lapis instead of Rukkhadevata, you find yourself squealing for the carriage to be stopped for a moment.
Hurrying out and almost tripping over yourself with giddiness, you make your way over to the statue. "Oh my gosh!" You can hardly believe it yourself, but his stone likeness sits upon a throne, his face shrouded by a hood as he gazes contemplatively at a cube in his hand. With the way he's sitting...surely you can nestle yourself on his lap!
The carriage's coachman pulls you back before you can climb up the statue and incur your first penalty in Liyue.
---x---
Fortune is on your side for the most part, for your dorm is located in the perfect spot near your academy-to-be, and you get a lovely seaside view from your window. The rent came cheap as well, and you had a smooth and seamless moving-in experience.
The area where fortune is not on your side, however, is in the fact that you've been here for a week and haven't seen neither hide nor hair of the Geo archon. You'd been traipsing around the harbor all week to the point that you could probably point out all the landmarks like a local, but there was no sign of a certain golden-eyed man at all. (You knew this because you'd made sure to look into everyone's eyes - not long enough to be creepy but just long enough to get some confused looks.)
One consolation was the fact that the people of Liyue loved talking about their experiences with their god: how he had once used a spoon from this place to try food from that stall, how he had written a poem for this store and had personally named that restaurant...his presence was interwoven with the stories of this city and could certainly not be de-threaded from them.
So where on earth was he now?
Your question is answered when you're out buying potatoes at the market ("Rex Lapis himself had suggested this place sell potatoes!"), when the vendor nearly knocks your bag over as he bows deeply to the tall man who has appeared beside you. "Rex Lapis, it is an honor and a pleasure to see you back here again!"
You nearly drop those damn potatoes.
"Ah, think nothing of it, my friend. The vegetable arrangements you craft out of food waste are simply a delight to behold - and economical, as well. One might even say that..." As his rich, deep baritone engulfs your ears, you finally muster the courage to look up at him. The moment you do, your jaw practically drops to the pavement.
The manga and amar chitra katha weren't lying. If anything, they weren't even doing justice to his appearance.
Beautiful amber eyes set upon a chiseled face that exuded equal parts royalty and congeniality; long, silky dark hair held together by a lustrous gold pin; and through his archon robes you could make out the shape of his toned and muscular body.
"Ohmagaissreallyyouohgaohwhadahek..."
You hadn't realised you'd just babbled something until the god stops mid-conversation and turns to look at you curiously.
"Pardon me, little one, I didn't quite catch that."
Your legs feel like they're made of water; yet somehow you don't fall to the ground. He's looking at you, oh gods he's looking at you. "Uhhhhhh," is all you can utter.
He offers you a warm smile that could put even the morning sun to shame. If your voice worked, you would scream "I'm in love with you" at him. "Yours is a face I have not seen around here before. A visitor to my land, I assume?"
The only thing you can do right now is nod meekly. The god's eyes twinkle.
"Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay here. Liyue has much to offer, regardless of what it is you may be looking for." You nod dumbly yet again as he finishes his conversation with the vendor and, with a nod to you, Rex Lapis begins to stroll down the street.
Clearly his presence is not an infrequent occurrence, for everyone who passes by him merely greets him with mild nervousness and reverence, as opposed to hurling themselves at his feet and wailing words of praise at him.
Finally, your legs start working again. Before you know it, you find yourself running towards him. Rex Lapis, sensing your footsteps, turns to look at you.
You pause, catching your breath. Your heart is hammering away in your chest, and it's not because of the running. "I...have something I want to say to you...m-my lord!"
"Yes?" He eyes you curiously, head slightly cocked.
You bite your lip, your mind reeling. So many things to say, so little brain juice in you... "I - I think you're very handsome!"
Saying this, you run off, leaving the god to stand there and process what had just transpired. Classy.
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iamasaddie · 5 months
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but, baby, it's cold outside
paring: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3.3k~ summary: Joel enjoys his first white Christmas and helps you appreciate the cold.
warnings: sensory deprivation; temperature play; unprotected PinV; shitty puns; no use of y/n.
a/n: this is my late Chrismas present for @lunitawrites &lt;3 Hope your holidays are great, and you enjoy my little gift!
MY MAIN MASTERLIST
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“I can’t believe I let you do that to me, Joel Miller.”
You were walking through the snow to the cabin Joel rented for your holidays on AirBnB cursing the skies for letting that man take you here. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t have followed him anywhere, but you’d prefer ‘anywhere’ being much, much warmer. The man in front of you did not share your devastation. You don’t remember the last time your man was so excited about anything besides you. With snow almost being knee-high he still had spring in his step going further and creating a semblance of a path for you. You still managed to get snow in your uggs and when Joel looked at you over his shoulder you just gave him an irritated scowl. He chuckled, a cloud of breath escaping from his mouth as he took your hand and pulled you through the snowy trail.
“Come on, baby, white Christmas!” He threw his hands, pointing at the white expanses of snow. His cheeks were red from the cold, his beard and mustache covered in frost just around his mouth. “Just like Bing Crosby sang!”
You shook your head, unable to stay mad at Joel when his face lit up with a childish grin. 
“I did everything in my power to never see snow again,” you still mumbled, “and it takes just one man to break that promise. I cannot believe it.” 
You finally reached the porch of the cabin, and Joel turned around before opening the door and looked you in the eyes.  
“Not just a man, baby," he grabbed the lapels of your winter coat and brought you closer to him. “A man you love.”
Admittedly, when his lips covered yours in a slow, gentle kiss, you forgot everything about being cold, and the wet sock didn’t bother you anymore. Kissing Joel was a sort of meditation for you, nothing existed when his lips were in yours. The world could collapse right beneath your feet, and you’d still be overtaken by the feeling of his hot wet tongue sliding inside your mouth, licking into you with passionate care and love. Just like he did right now. Your hands found his face, the snow from your mittens melting as soon as they got in contact with his skin. Joel scrunched his nose at the feeling, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth and pulling a little. Snowflakes melted on your noses as you stayed in each other's embrace, enjoying the warmth of the moment.
“Let’s go inside,” he finally whispered in your mouth, opening the door and grabbing your hand as he went inside.
You had to admit, the cabin was beautiful. The scent of pine almost made you forget the biting cold. The person renting it definitely had put in an effort. You noticed a modest Christmas tree in the corner, happy that you would have a place where to put your presents. The whole place looked festive with fairy lights and Christmas decorations, creating a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. You breathed lungs full of air and felt a sense of relief wash over you. Joel threw his backpack on the floor and you did the same. 
“Do you like it?” He asked, with hope in his voice.
“Yeah,” you nodded genuinely, giving him another peck on the lips. “But we need to start a fire or I’m going to freeze to death.”
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Of course the big fireplace wasn’t the only source of warmth in the house, yet it still took a long minute for the place to stop feeling like a cryocooler. You loved the domesticity of watching Joel make a fire. He went out a couple of times to bring enough logs to keep the fire going, and he never failed coming over where you were sprawled on the couch and shaking the snow from his hair on you. You wanted to get angry at the man, but it was impossible. His joy was disarming, and his mood started rubbing off on you. 
When the fire was roaring and the wrapped presents found their place under the tree, Joel joined you on the couch, laying between your legs and resting his head on your chest. You were happy his hair had time to fully dry, a giant wet spot on your sweater would not help you keep the cheerful mood. You ran your fingers through the silken strands of brown and gray that now felt a little bit less soft. Joel almost started purring, his eyes half closed as his hands ran up and down your thighs with lazy strokes.
“So what’s with all the snow hating?” You were in silence for some time, so when Joel started speaking you almost jumped, having thought that the man had fallen asleep. "Don’t you find it romantic to have a white Christmas?”
Your hand in his hair stopped its ministrations for a moment, and you remembered the chills seeping through your skin and into your bones. The painful feeling when you froze so much that as soon as you entered a warm room it felt like you were pierced with a thousand needles. The constant greyness of the skies that were so dark no amount of lamps helped. You placed your chin on Joel’s head, mentally shaking the memories away.
“Joel, I grew up in a place that had snow six months out of twelve, sometimes I went a whole year without feeling an actual hot summer.” You had fond memories about your childhood home, but none of them were connected with winter. "Cold is terrible. No matter how much clothes you wear you’re still cold. And it’s uncomfortable. And it’s not sexy.”
“Not sexy?” Joel moved his head, craning it in an attempt to look at you and ask for further clarification. You chuckled at his confused look.
“Who would want to have sex when they’re freezing? It’s a terrible feeling.”
You genuinely thought there was nothing less arousing than having cold hands on any part of your body. It sounded more like torture to you, that cruel game your friend liked to play when they ran from the coldness of outside and tried to stick their hand under your shirt, merrily laughing at your scream. Joel hummed, but didn’t ask anything else, so you took it as a chance to ask your own questions.
“What about you?” You scratched the sensitive spot behind his ear gently, feeling goosebumps raise under your fingertips. “Why are you so excited to freeze your ass off?
“Baby, that’s the first snow I’ve seen in my life,” you heard a smile in his voice and felt your own lips stretch. "Well, not the first, but it’s the first time I’ve seen so much snow.” Joel lifted up from you a little, the space on your body that was heated by his warmth getting immediately cold. He turned his head to the left, looking outside where the winter’s darkness had already overtaken the daylight. Snow was slowly sticking to the window before melting into little drops of water. Joel was quiet for a moment, before turning to face you. "I am Texas born and raised, we don’t see snow unless it’s on TV.”
“It’s overrated.” You shrugged your shoulders.
“Nah,” the man shook his head, “you’re just used to it. But to me it's like… Imagine living deep underwater, only hearing the legends of this bright hot star called Sun, and then finally feeling its warmth on your skin.” You closed your eyes, soaking Joel’s words in. “I feel like I’m a kid again.”
You had never expected to hear those words from him, and when you opened your eyes you could almost swear something glistened in his eye. You placed your hand on his cheeks, the warm scruff tickling your palm, and Joel took a more comfortable position between your legs, placing them on his waist.
“Well then I’m glad we’re here,” you whispered honestly. “If you’re happy - I’m happy.”
Joel took your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for a long moment before pressing his lips - and body - into yours. With someone like Joel at your side it was hard to remember about the cold. Like the whole phenomena didn’t exist with the man who was currently running his giant palms over your body, sliding them under your sweater and tugging it up. You let him take it off, doing the same to his flannel. Your lips constantly crashed in kisses that became more and more desperate, the less clothes you had the stronger the urge became. You slid your palms up Joel’s broad chest, scratching the hot skin and letting your moans mix together. His hands worked your clothes with professional efficiency, leaving you naked in mere moments.
You grabbed at his jeans trying to reach for the zipper and force them off, but Joel’s hand stopped your attempts. You whined in protest and felt his nose tracing a trail from your cheekbone and lower until his lips met your neck.
“Do you trust me?” He bit on your neck, sucking the soft skin gently. You were almost out of breath, sometimes you felt like he knew your body better than you did, touching you exactly right in the places that sent fireboats through your skin.
“Of course,” you moaned, fisting his hair, but still unsure if you wanted to press him harder into your neck, or attack his mouth with yours. “Why?”
He let go of your sensitive neck, and you immediately wanted to shove him back, but he grabbed both of your hands in one of his, not letting you do that.
“Close your eyes and don’t open them.” He commanded. You furrowed your brows wondering if you heard him correctly.
“What?”
“Please, baby.” Joel looked at you intently, and you knew there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do for this man. When you closed your eyes, he placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, whispering a quiet thank you and standing up from the couch.
Judging by the sound of it, he didn’t go far. You heard the rustling of wrapping paper, and in a moment felt Joel’s hand on the back of your head.
“Lift up your head a little.”
You obeyed without questions, letting Joel wrap something around your head, fully covering your eyes so that even the flickering Christmas lights weren’t able to get to you.
“You want me to be blindfolded? That’s it?” You were surprised, in the time that you were dating Joel never showed any interest in sensory deprivation besides tying or holding your hands. Quite the opposite, he had a habit of making you watch as he fucked you, sometimes dragging you to the bathroom with the sole purpose of spreading you out in front of the mirror. The blindfold was something new entirely, but you let yourself entertain the idea.
“Shhh, naughty girls don’t get presents.” 
His voice was further than you expected, and you felt your naked body tense up. Straining your ears, you heard heavy footsteps that became more and more distant until the door banged.
“Joel?” You shouted in an empty house, not getting any response and getting seemingly frustrated. “Am I the contestant on ‘Naked and Afraid’?”
Distracted by your thoughts and blood already pumping through your heart harder than you were comfortable, you didn’t hear him come back. So when something cold and wet touched the heated skin of your chest you screamed, rushing to tug off your blindfold but being stopped by the hand you know intimately. 
“Shh, baby,” Joel’s soothing voice made you stop panicking, “remember you told me you trusted me.”
You nodded, the want to scream at him for leaving you alone without warning slowly dissipating. You tried to will yourself to relax, succumbing to the feelings, tightened by the deprivation of visuals. There was something cold and wet, slowly trailing patterns on your skin, and it didn’t take you long to guess the origin of the mystery object.
When the path went from your collarbone and to your nipples you physically felt them harden, becoming more aware of every bit of sensation. The ice Joel circled around your areola started burning your skin, and just as you wanted to ask him to move, his lips enveloped your erect bud, laving at it with his tongue. The contrast of his scorching hot mouth on your cold skin made you arch your back, feeling arousal dripping down your ass. Joel did the same to your other nipple, biting it gently before letting it go. Your body was covered in goosebumps when he lifted his face from your skin, every wet spot felt cold and you tried to blindly find his face and press it back.
Joel gave you a small chuckle before returning the quickly melting bit of ice in contact with your skin. The contradicting sensation of hot and cold all over the sensitive parts of your body opened a new feeling of pleasure inside you. Your brain was foggy with want, body deliciously tortured by the man of your dreams that kept licking up the melted drops that traveled from your breasts and ribs into the dip of your belly button. You realized the last of it melted against your skin when Joel traveled lower, where you were dying for attention for the last hour. His lips were hot and wet with both melted ice and saliva, but when his fingers traced the burning skin of your pussy lips you gasped.
“Okay?”
He whispered his question, nosing your mound, and you let out some kind of agreeing noise because your brain refused to cooperate in full sentences or even words. 
The feeling of two of his icy cold fingers spreading your lips and then entering your wet hole at the same time as his hot mouth kissed and licked on your clit almost made you cum on the spot. It was wild how two such opposite things came together in perfect balance to bring you to the heights of your pleasure. Behind the blindfold you rolled your eyes, arching your back off the couch, but feeling Joel’s other hand pressing on your stomach to bring you back. Your pussy violently contracted around his digits, warming them up until everything about him was liquid fire. His tongue circled your clit, dropping to your dripping entrance on every other stroke, licking around his own fingers that continued pleasuring you in steady pumps. 
Joel knew exactly how to make you come. He learned the perfect curl of his fingers, the pressure on your clit, if there was a competition he would take every medal including the viewers choice. His fingertips continued punching your g-spot as his lips nipped on your labia. Your fingers found his hair, pressing his face harder in your pussy. The desperation in your movements made Joel moan before he finally sucked on your clit just as his fingers grazed that spongy part that brought you the most pleasure. You didn’t try to contain your scream when you came all around his fingers, and he hurried to replace them with his tongue, lapping at your entrance in an attempt to drink every drop of you.
When your body stopped shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, Joel trailed his kisses up your body until he was once again seated between your legs. You felt the soft material of his boxers, apparently at some point he took off his jeans. His hard cock was pressing into your sensitive skin through the material, and you didn’t need to check twice to know it was soaked in his precum. 
“Warm?” Joel covered his body with yours, leaving a dozen little kisses on your cheeks and jaw.
“Your fingers were too cold, I think my pussy’s frozen,” you complained jokingly, and he bit your chin.
“It’s okay,” his forehead pressed into yours, and then Joel whispered in your ear, “I got a hotcicle to warm it up.”
You bursted out in laughter, belly shaking with uncontrollable giggles. Joel was not the man who’d say shit like that, and that made the whole situation even more precious. The vulnerability that man let himself show you melted your heart like it was a snowball thrown in a fireplace. Your hands went to rip the blindfold off when Joel stopped you sitting up and grabbing your ankles practically folding you in half. Your giggles quickly died down when you felt the tip of his cock find your entrance. 
“What’s so funny, baby?” He asked nonchalantly, like he wasn’t about to stuff your cunt full of his fat cock. Just as you were about to reply, he entered you in one swift motion, letting his heavy balls slap against your wet ass cheeks.
There was nothing that could get you off faster than the thick shaft of your man relentlessly pounding into you. The hotness radiated from his body even more and you felt a bead of sweat dropping on your lip. You hurried to lick it up, desperate to have more of him inside you. Joel grunted on top of you, the coarse hair above his cock teasing your oversensitive clit each time he buried himself inside you to the hilt. His broad shoulders didn’t let your legs drop as he made the best of the couch you were occupying. You felt his cock becoming even more stiff and hot inside you, thinking that it was impossible before but clearly being proven wrong. Joel’s lips found you in a semblance of a kiss, but it looked more like you were just licking each other’s mouths, tongues wet and sloppy dipping everywhere, pitting your lips and chins with saliva. His hips started stuttering, pace became more erratic, and you knew he was close. Joel traced his hand from your neck to your clit, pinching your nipple on the way. His weight was put onto his left hand as his right attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb was sleek with all kinds of liquids, helping him stimulate your clit perfectly as he fastened his pace stretching your pussy perfectly.
“Come for me, baby, come on. Give it to me,” his voice was strained, on the verge of orgasm, and you could almost see the veins on his neck popping out, his chest red and sweaty. The image of your man on the brink of coming combined with unstoppable pleasure brought by his cock and fingers made you see all the Christmas lights with your eyes closed. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body continued convulsing with pleasure. Joel pulled out at the last moment, painting your puffy pussy lips with ropes of thick white cum. 
His breathing was louder than the blood pumping in your ears, the sweat dripped down both of your bodies. You finally found strength to lift your hand, tugging the blindfold off and finding Joel sitting between your legs with a look. Of absolute love and adoration. His eyes followed two of your fingers as you trailed them in a slow path down to your soaked cunt. You swiped your digits through the cum covering your pussy and brought them back to your mouth to lick them clean with a deep moan.
“Mmm, my favorite frosting,” Joel looked at you in disbelief. “What? You’re not the only one who can come up with terrible Christmas puns.”
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bixbythemartian · 3 months
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walrus vs. fairy
the funny part is that people who answer walrus are mostly like 'I disagree, but I understand why you would answer fairy' and the people who answered fairy are tearing their hair out. some of them are getting mad and/or mean about it, which is kind of upsetting.
so, I will try to help explain.
this will not be about walrus logistics, I promise.
some people believe in fairies. full stop.
fully believe they are real. probably a lot more people than you would be happy about, but you have to allow for this to be true.
even among those who don't wholeheartedly believe in fairies, there's a lot more people who are agnostic about fairies.
people willing to admit that they're not sure if fairies are real, but willing to hedge on the side of maybe the fairies are real.
like, if you rephrased the question 'would you be more surprised to see an angel or a walrus at your door' you would probably be less surprised to see that people would be more shocked at the walrus, because you probably already understand that a lot of people believe in angels and consider them real, whether or not you believe in angels personally
also the SPN fandom would go ham on that, probably. (this is said with deep affection)
there was a fairly famous road built in Ireland that got rerouted because there was a bush that was important to fairies. (source) the fairy tree stalled the plans for the road for a fucking decade. this happened in my lifetime. people talked about it happening on the internet as it was happening, it's not some weird thing that happened in the middle of nowhere in the 1950s or something. they agreed to go around the damned bush in 1999. I know that seems a long time ago to some of y'all, but it really, really isn't.
there are still people who think the cottingley fairies were real. not a huge amount, but I hope enough to make my point- there's some people who believe in fairies so much and want them to be real so much that they think a famous prank (hoax is stretching it, imo, these girls were pranking their families and the press kind of coincidentally got involved) proves the existence of fairies.
there's a lot, lot, lot more people who believe in fairies and also will admit the cottingley fairies weren't real. the cottingley fairy truthers are a small a percentage of the people who believe in fairies.
I cannot emphasize enough that there are plenty of people who believe fairies are real and even more that could be very easily convinced that fairies are real
people have believed in fairies and been superstitious about fairies for a long, long fucking time
setting aside all of that
some people are more likely to see a thing that isn't real at their door than they are to see a living fucking walrus at their door.
fevers, migraines, mental stress, sleep deprivation (especially if you have sleep disorders, like insomnia or narcolepsy), and infection (among a very long list of other things), and prescription medication side effects can all cause visual hallucinations, and they're all states that you might not be aware that you're in when you start to see weird shit.
these are just the really mundane ones I plucked up off the list.
I have experienced hallucinations due to sleep dep and insomnia. unfortunately, for me, this manifested as a spider the size of a border collie (I wish I were joking) and not fairies, but fairies is a possibility that cannot be counted out.
I'm way more likely to have sleep deprivation and a migraine and a fever all at once than I am to see a walrus in person at a zoo, much less at my door.
it has happened before. it will happen again. it's happening right fucking now.
the fairies can have my birth name if they will take away my migraine.
just putting that out there.
I've never seen a walrus in person at all. I would like to, but it's not likely. there's not any in any of the zoos nearby that I could find.
current likelihood of me seeing a fairy on my doorstep is significantly higher than me seeing a fucking walrus. I am in a physical state where I have had visual hallucinations before, and it's not impossible I will have them again. I would not be particularly surprised, even.
as long as it's not the goddamn massive spider. I even like most spiders, but that is too much spider.
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withoutyouimsaskia · 3 months
Text
Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 3)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tumblr media
GIF: Originally posted by @sassycherryblossomtree
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Physical intimacy.
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: What a full on week! I've had a job interview. Got turned down for said job. Went to a Sandman filming location (Natural History Museum) and watched Dune Part 2 (cannot recommend enough). It took away from my writing time a bit but part 3 is here now, and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. Part 4 will be coming soon. All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
---------------------------------------------
"Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."
The sentence is a catalyst, fuelling the physical and emotional reactions in both the surroundings and your body.
The wind is gone, leaving a claustrophobic air that crackles with untameable energy. The streetlight above violently flickers and flares, the unmistakable noise of a circuit about to overload emanating with each surge.
You feel these surges within your chest too, stoking the warmth radiating through you to an uncontrollable blaze. The ferocity of the sensation makes you whimper.
The man's hands are still touching you. Cradling your face and holding your hand; he feels the tremble that couples with your vocalisation.
"I understand. I feel it too," he whispers. "Though I imagine it is much more intense for your mortal heart to bear."
He eyes are raven black as he strokes his thumb back and forth over your cheek, before strengthening the hold he has on your face.
"Let me kiss the pain away."
He gives you no time to respond. He leans in the last few centimetres and puts his lips firmly against yours.
At first, contrary to his intent, the pain amplifies. He grunts, indicating that he has felt this spike also yet begins to move his lips regardless. It's like your heart is a balloon and it is being overfilled with air, close to exploding and obliterating you from existence. You then feel as if you are about to black out and want to pull away, and are about to try when the agony starts to subside.
The seduction begins.
The fire is mellowing with each press of his mouth, transforming into a restorative, yet sensuous energy. It's alleviation akin to calamine on a sunburn.
It awakens a primal need in your soul. This man is fundamental to you. He is the only one who can truly protect you from harm. You must remain with him. Give yourself to him.
You act on this revelation and kiss him back with a hunger that you didn't think you were capable of demonstrating.
Your reciprocation sends him into a frenzy. He cages you against the damp wall of the building and kisses you with unyielding, dangerous passion.
His skill is impressive, changing technique frequently to keep you guessing. Smothering kisses, bruising kisses, slower kisses to give you time to breathe. The hand that was cupping your face is now stroking down your side; breasts, waist, hips and back up again.
Tentatively, you raise your free hand to the back of his head and run your fingers through his wild hair. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied vibrating sigh of sorts that encourages you to dig deeper into the silken locks.
He escalates things by slipping his tongue into your mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smirk as you moan in response. His taste is a potent blend: a smoky base, herbaceous core and ambrosial top notes. You are drunk on it, and him seconds after exposure.
Logic has left you. Schedules and duties cast aside.
The juxtaposition between the present and minutes prior would be frightening if not for how correct all this feels. You had been disgusted and alarmed by his conduct, ready to bring in reinforcements and then all of it had dissipated like dust under a short, sharp breath.
It is not a ridiculous change in behaviour; you were supposed to be doing this. This stranger is all you want.
He pulls back when even his slower kisses are unable to calm your elevated respiratory rate, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he does so to draw another moan from you.
The blue of his eyes shimmer with a myriad of emotions. Lust stands out the most along with awe and relief. Your cheeks prickle with a light blush as he continues to stare and document every detail.
"I have been waiting to do that for thousands of years, my precious soulmate," he eventually says in reference to the kiss after absorbing your image for a while.
There's that word again. Soulmate. You hadn't exactly been allowed a period of contemplation when the man first uttered it, too swept up in the fire and his touch, but now with the semi-reinstation of coherent thoughts you begin to assess. It proves difficult. Your cerebral matter feels like a mixture of treacle, sap and epoxy. Trapping words and slowing down your processing power. It would be so simple to let yourself live in this mental mire and be carried along by his whims.
No. You scold inwardly. Ask a question.
"What do you mean by soulmates?" You force yourself to speak.
He guides your palm to rest on his heart and sets up a mirror image with his hand on your chest. "It means that we are bound together, made for one another."
The next question is easier to form. "And what now, given that you've found me?"
"Now," His hips grind into yours. "I will continue with the ritual of awakening you to the metaphysical connection between us, stripping back the shrouds and glamours that have been protecting your mind from the gravity of this gift."
That explained why everything shifted when he first touched your skin.
"Are you going to do that here?" Your brain is really starting to break free of its trappings and you need to ascertain his plan for it sounds like his intentions are of a sexual nature and you are in a public place.
"No, your time in this world has reached its end. I will take you to my realm, lead you to my chambers and I will not stop stimulating you until I have taken residence in your every thought, every cell."
The speed and confidence with which he is pouring forth all of these sentiments, and the near-full recovery of your mental faculties triggers a wave of nausea. Perspiration forms on your nape and ears and your core temperature feels off; warning signs that you get when you are about to vomit.
He still hasn't let go of your hand. You hone in on the softness of his skin, hoping you can use him as an anchor as you wade through the icky symptoms.
Recent events are starting to catch up with you. You replay it all.
Soulmates. Mortal. Thousands of years. Metaphysical. Realm. The unexplainable environmental manifestations. The strange shifting qualities of his eyes. What kind of supernatural devilry had you managed to become ensnared in?
Was he in fact the devil?
You are so conflicted. This being, for you are convinced that 'man' is no longer the correct term, is telling you things that threaten your entire way of life and your heart is pushing you to seek comfort from him!
Then the voices start.
Your sense of balance tilts and you instinctively grasp his forearm for stability. He says your name and you drag your focus from your thoughts to his face. He is looking at you with deep concern.
"Tell me," he commands gently.
"I feel dizzy... And I can hear voices."
"How many?"
"What?"
"How many voices?"
Your eyes are wide as you struggle to understand the relevance of his question.
You stammer out a couple of syllables.
"Breathe," he encourages.
You obey and concentrate on the hubbub.
"Three. Everything is being repeated three times."
The frown lines smooth and he is smiling faintly. "It seems The Fates are vying for your attention."
"The Fates? Like in Greek mythology?"
"The very same."
Was this being a God then?
"They're telling me to close my eyes," you relay as soon as the instruction is delivered.
He nods. "That will be the trigger that transports your mind to their location."
"Will I pass out?"
"No. It will be a temporary connection that keeps your body frozen for mere moments."
"I feel so dizzy though."
"I can hold you while you converse with them should you wish."
You nod somewhat frenetically as a sliver of fear creeps into your mind. "Yes, please."
He lets go of your hand for the first time since you tried to go back in the building, slips his arms around your waist and he pulls you close with a satisfied sigh. The neediness with which you are clinging to him lessens your apprehension just a little.
"How does that feel?" His voice rumbles deliciously through your chest.
"Good, thank you."
"You should close your eyes now. It is best that you do not keep them waiting."
"Okay."
"I'll see you in a few moments."
You shut your eyes.
----------------
The scene you awaken in is all lemon yellows, blush pinks and pastel blues. There's no landforms or structures. Just a never-ending stretch of bedrock, topped with a horizon that is beginning to show a sumptuous sunset.
You squint a little and then notice that there is a actually a point of interest. A lump of rough rock, waist height. There's a divot worn into the top that makes the obtrusion look like a font. For a moment you see a single figure standing at it.
A figure that appears to have three faces.
But then you blink and the number has tripled.
Maiden, Mother and Crone.
The trio block the worst of the sun glare, and the light that isn't obscured is highlighting the translucent layers that overflow from their intricately constructed and adorned outfits. Their curly hair, like the fabric of their clothes, flows freely in the gentle breeze.
You walk towards the group, thinking back to that term in school where you studied Greek mythology. Under no circumstances did you ever think that any of it could possibly be true, yet here you were.
You stop a respectable distance from them and quickly avert your eyes downwards to look at the ruby ring on your right hand.
One of them speaks, "You need not be intimidated by us, sweetness."
"I only wish to pay respect to you, your Graces."
You chance a peek at the Fates and see amusement in their eyes.
"Oh, you are going to fit in very well in his world," the Mother says with a smile.
You don't know what to feel about that comment however you don't have time to dwell on it for the eldest addresses you.
"Come closer. Let us look at you."
And look they did. Their resolute gazes are just as discerning as the stranger's but unlike his, where you knew he was soaking you in, you feel like the Fates are seeing through you.
You don't know what exactly it is that they are looking for but their smiles give the impression of being appeased.
"Has Morpheus told you how this will go?"
"No..." You hesitate before speaking his name, "Morpheus has not."
"He didn't tell you his name, did he?"
"We didn't get a lot of time for small talk," you admit sheepishly.
"We can see that from the state of your lips."
"He always was rather forward with his physical affection."
"Touch starved," the Crone finishes.
You are beyond embarrassed. How swollen were your lips for it to be that obvious? You can almost feel his touch now, it tingles like phantom caresses on the skin of your neck, chest and waist. You swallow hard before further lust can thicken your throat.
The Fates then speak in turn again, explaining the context of your rendezvous.
"You will have the opportunity to ask three questions."
"That is the custom when meeting with us."
"There is no need to rush."
Choosing only three questions will be tough when there are hundreds you could ask. Were you losing your sanity? Was Morpheus a demonic envoy from the underworld sent to corrupt your mind?
You suppose all you really want to know is whether this is real.
"Is he telling the truth about us being soulmates?"
The Maiden answers in a musical voice, "He is. The confluence of yours and Morpheus' lives has been written for millennia. Your souls have been intended for each other since he came into existence. You were never meant for anyone else but him."
You feel like you are about to cry. That last statement cuts deeply.
"All those times that potential partners lost interest or ghosted me. It was because of this soulmates thing," you murmur the statement, aware that you don't need to ask them to know if it is true.
Years of heartache and confusion had been for nothing. The nights spent wondering if you had done something wrong, the days where you threw yourself into your work to distract from it.
You cannot regret all the good things you managed to create as part of your team at the charity yet it is hard to look past the personal torment that countless unexplained rejections caused. You are human after all.
Selfishness rears its head and pushes the next question from your mouth with a tone of indignation.
"Why am I only finding out about this now?"
The Mother takes over, tone caring and brown eyes cordial, "It was not necessary for you to know."
Ire disintegrates into frustration. "But I could have been preparing. Not building a life that I was clearly going to have to give up."
"You would not be the person you are had we given you warning. You needed to live as a human, not as someone who was fated to be with the King of Dreams and Nightmares. Besides, there was no possibility of you being together. For 106 years, Morpheus was the prisoner of a human, and it was the recent end of his captivity that allowed fate to take its intended course. Reaching your potential on Earth gives you a strong foundation from which to guide and influence him in how to best serve humanity, and learn to trust in them once more after what he suffered at the hands of one."
The amount of information you have just received is like a freight train. One after the other, the revelations barrel into you and you take refuge in your mind.
The King of Dreams and Nightmares; not a title you had heard of before. Yet there is a strange sense of recognition. A forgotten memory that barely flickers with life. You ignore the niggling thought and focus on the more devastating one.
This King, your soulmate was held against his will, subjected to suffering. You cannot bear the idea of it regardless of how few details you have at present. Your chest aches and you know your soul is the source.
Fury twitches in your fingers, as fiery as the now burnt oranges and bloody reds of the ever-progressing sunset. You want to know who could do such a terrible thing but you realise that it is not the most important question you could be asking.
You look back to the Fates. You note their proud smiles at your restraint.
"What role am I expected to play in his future?"
The Crone moves to centre stage, "You are to be his everything. Muse. Lover. Queen. Advisor. Confidant."
Your stomach twists.
"Are you ready to return to him?" The Maiden asks, taking you off guard.
You feel like you a patron being kicked out at closing time with half a drink left. A fizzy one that you can't knock back easily.
What you've just been told honestly scares you. It's a mountain of expectation, the sort of thing that could birth an inferiority complex. There's also your self-preservation instinct starting to scream. You've seen darkness in his eyes, felt his physical strength and heard how resolute his statements are.
You have to say something.
"I'm worried about what would happen if I disappoint him, if he would hurt me."
The trio step closer, the scant remnants of sunlight reflect off their perceptive eyes and the metal of their matching earrings.
The Crone speaks solemnly, "It has been well-documented that Morpheus has a ruthless nature. As one of the Endless siblings, he is among the most powerful beings in the universe; equal parts creator, and destroyer."
The Mother touches your cheek with a warm hand. "But you have just as much power to hurt him, sweetness. We have provided you with it."
The Maiden nods in agreement, and takes your hand.
"He deals in fears, yes but his domain also lies in fantasies. He will be able to furnish you with yours. He has been made to be perfect for you."
"But -"
"This is not a loss of agency or an act of surrender. Put aside your qualms, listen to your soul and ask yourself this: do you find him attractive?"
"Yes." He's the most attractive person you've ever seen.
"Do you care for him?"
"Yes." Your reaction to his imprisonment is evidence enough of that.
"Do you want to a chance of happiness?"
"Yes." Deep down beneath all the doubt and overthinking and catastrophising, it's exactly what you want.
You want Morpheus.
"I'm ready," you say calmly.
You take a step back from the Fates and bow.
"Thank you for your time, your Graces."
The sky is an inky violet with daubs of dark blue, the sun is a thin line on the horizon. It sets, signalling the end of the meeting and your time as an ordinary mortal.
"Fare you well," the Fates' voices echo in unison as everything fades to black.
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Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines
"Deep in my heart, deep in my mind. Take me away, take me away. This is my word, dream maker, life taker. Open up my mind."
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tossawary · 5 months
Text
Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.
But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?
Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.
Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.
Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.
I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)
But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!
Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.
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woncherie · 1 year
Text
hello <33 finally posting part 3. i hope you guys like it!! small reminder that im not a native english speaker i hope i didnt do too many mistakes..
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, mentions of alcohol and drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail, rimming, pegging, pictures are taken, usage of ma'am a few times, he sucks our dick!! light spanking (please tell me if I missed something)
wc: 4.9k
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
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lab reports were handed in in time, protocols werent your problem anymore and you got good grades on papers that you didnt even take a look at. things really changed after the party a few months ago.
you didnt get thrown at with food anymore, no one was there to trip you, your property wasnt destroyed anymore. its as if he completely forgot about your existence. at this point you dont even know if he remembers your face anymore, you havent seen your favourite bully in weeks other than on hallways, but even there he was very quick to choose another path to not see your face.
its been a month since the incidence in the library, and nothing else happened between you. how could anything have happened? he doesnt even look at you anymore.
at first you enjoyed your peace. people started talking to you more, you went to more partys and hangouts and met new people, but after two weeks of silence from scaramouche, you started getting a bit tense too.
you didnt expect him to actually leave you alone. you thought he would be putting up more of a fight than just puss out like a small kid, and no matter how hard it was to admit.. you kinda missed him.
at one point you got so annoyed with his behaviour that you even tried to meet him yourself, bumping into him in the hallway to start a conversation, but all he did was apologize half-assed and then go back on his way, not even taking a glimpse of your face or outfit (which he used to love to make fun of).
you were fed up with him. you cannot believe that after everything that happened between the two of you he can just act like nothing happened, going on with his life without even thinking about you. him ignoring you made you even more mad than when he gave you too much attention.
it was hard to admit, but the indigo haired man never left your thoughts. it wasnt like you two actively talked before, but now all you did was wonder. about him, about how his day was, what he did, how he is feeling.
the irritation was written all over your face, and all that albedo could do was watch from the sidelines. you still didnt tell him what happened, at this point you were so far into this shit you dont even know how to explain anything.
"is everything alright?" he said after a few days, laying on his tummy on the floor of your apartment, your organic chemistry book in front of him, but instead of studying he just put his head on it, using it as a pillow.
"what should be wrong?" you mumbled, scrolling through instagram right next to him on your carpet. your head was at his feet and his at yours, taking a look over to him when he spoke up.
you two ordered some take out and waited impatiently on the delivery before going back to studying. exams were getting closer again.
"you seem to be lost in thoughts the past few three weeks. is everything right between scaramouche and you?" he asked while checking the time on his watch.
"yeah, what should be wr- wait what." your heart dropped for a second and you threw your phone away, sitting up straight. "how did you-" you started.
"oh c'mon." he answered and rolled his eyes. "respect my intelligence. it doesnt take a genius to understand that at least something happened between the two of you."
you looked at him with wide eyes, shame and guilt being written all over your face. "how..??"
"just look at you two and how you act around each other. you two are practically undressing each other with your eyes during the lectures."
you hid your face in the palm of your hands, embarrassed at the whole situation. "i am so so sorry. i shouldve told you." you apologized. "i was just.. scared about your reaction?"
"you should be." he returned, sitting up slowly before looking at you. "i have a lot of things to say about that special relationship. but maybe you should explain what happened before." he gave you the opportunity to explain.
you threw yourself at albedo and hugged him tightly. "oh my god, i need to tell you so much that happened. ok so remember ittos party.."
scaramouche was currently laying in bed, another random women naked next to him. he tried everything, he tried everything, to forget you.
your ugly face followed him in his darkest dreams, your annoying character was running around in his head all the time, and he even caught himself daydreaming about the two of you every once in a while. all the time.
but absolutely nothing was helping him. he thought maybe he just needed to get laid again, to have any random chick pleasure him for the night and he would get back to be his old self, that he was just thinking with his dick the past few weeks, but no. even after sleeping with multiple women who werent even good to begin with, he couldnt get you out of his head.
he was frustrated, so fucking annoyed, that he let it out on everyone who is somewhat close to him. his friends were trying to figure out what or who made him so miserable, but he doesnt talk to anyone of them.
instead of approaching you and talking it out he decided it would be the better idea to just party, smoke and drink his feelings away. after a few days he would forget you and what happened. but thats what he told himself for weeks now.
the women next to him came closer, trying to touch his chest, but he just hissed at her. "do me a favour and fuck off." he didnt even know her name. he didnt care enough to ask. he couldnt even describe what she looked like.
"h..huh?" he heard her gasp next to him, feeling a bit betrayed by his behaviour right now. "did i do someth-"
"fuck off i said." he groaned, using his arm to place it over his eyes. he just hoped that she would leave as quickly as she came, letting him pity himself in peace without anyone chewing his ear off or them expecting that he cares about them.
he didnt care about anyone of them, fuck, he doesnt even know their names, the only name in his head was yours. and he was sick of it.
the girl stood up and grabbed her clothes, leaving the room as she put them on again, and scaramouche let out a deep groan when he heard the front door closing. fucking finally.
he turned around in his bed, laying on his stomach and checking his phone. he was hoping that maybe you would text him again, but you didnt.
he took his pillow and threw it over his head, trying to burry himself in his bed, trying to burry these feelings.
what were you doing right now? were you together with your ugly blonde friend again?
just thinking about albedo makes him wanna throw a few punches around the room. he never cared about that nerd anyway, his victim always being you, but right now? he's exploding just thinking that you spend your precious time with albedo than rather messaging him, or talking to him.
what did you even see in him? he's fucking boring, head constantly hiding between a few books. he probably doesnt even have a personality to begin with.
were you sleeping with him?
after all the things you did to scaramouche, he wouldnt be doubting that you maybe also fucked around with your best friend. the thought of it made him jump out of his bed, throwing his pillow against a wall before heading to the shower.
he was so lovesick, he couldnt even admit how jealous he was. fuck, he misses you. he misses you so much that he set his mind to visit you after showering, even though he tried his best to ignore you. he couldnt do that anymore.
you were laying on your bed, your books and tablet scattered around you. you tried to concentrate on your studies, on how you felt before you started to fuck around with scaramouche, but you only sighed frustratedly. albedo was right. this was all a big mistake.
albedo left some hours ago, giving you some space for yourself to think about the whole situation, but you instead chose to study and ignore the aching pain in your chest.
albedo gave you a whole lecture on how stupid you were, on how you're gonna get your feelings hurt and mind destroyed by scaramouche, and you knew he was right, you really did, but you couldnt help but feel the way you feel right now.
your train of thoughts got interrupted as someone started banging against your door furiously, and you stood up in surprise and hurried to the door, not checking who it was before opening it.
in front of you stood your favourite indigo eyed man, hair messy and very obviously annoyed and irritated. he didnt even ask or say anything, just pushed you away to enter your apartment.
you were surprised to see him here, after ignoring you for weeks and getting out of your way on purpose when it always used to be the other way around.
"i fucking hate you!" he shouted in your face, pacing around in your apartment, trying to find any words.
"chill out for a second, handsome, how did you find my address?" you asked him, closing the door behind him after scaramouche entered your comfy 25 m².
he just rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "ask me something more difficult next time." he quoted his old text messages.
"the fuck you want here anyway?" you answered him annoyed but also somewhat adrenalized. this is the first time you talked again after like 2 weeks? 3 weeks? you couldnt even remember yourself.
"you! i fucking hate you." he yelled again, coming closer to you before using his arms to push you around a bit, getting physical with you. you stumbled a few steps back but caught yourself in time before landing on your ass.
"you just show up in my life and turn everything around without even thinking about me!" he cried out, his own hands finding its way in his hands and pulling on his own hair. "the past few weeks i tried everything to forget you, to forget the way you make me feel, but.. i just cant."
you raised your eyebrows in shock, not expecting a confession like this when he first entered your home furiously. "what do you mean?"
"FUCK. i mean that i cant stop thinking about you. i cant stop thinking about how you touch me. you ruined me for everyone else. no one compares to how you make me feel, and i hate you so much for this." he paced around your small room again, his eyes moving around from you to the floor and to you again, arms moving around everywhere.
he was stressed as hell, and he didnt know why he was here, in front of you, digging his own grave, but there he is, embarrassing himself to his bones.
and all you did was stand in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish, trying to find fitting words. you couldnt explain how you were feeling right now, you just knew that you were incredibly happy and relieved.
"say something." scaramouche nearly begged, being frustrated with the whole situation.
he wanted things to go back to normal, to have you under him, doing anything he says without being told twice, to do all uni work and still humiliate you for funsies.
but thinking about going back to that time also hurt him, thinking about how you wouldnt talk to him more than you needed to is something he didnt want.
you slowly stepped up to him again, definitely getting closer to him and his personal space than anyone else dares to do, and you use your finger to lift his chin up, looking at him mockingly.
"now was that so hard to say?" you looked down in him. his face turned red again, trying to ignore your wandering eyes on his face, looking on the floor, eyelashes already a bit wet from shame and embarrassment.
"look at me when im talking to you." you demanded, squishing his cheeks between your fingers again and he looked up to you, breath stammering and gulping.
"is this what you want?" you raised one eyebrow mockingly, the grin on your face getting bigger and bigger.
scaramouche became frustrated with your behaviour again, too embarrassed to admit that yes, he needed this.
instead of answering, he pushed you back again, but followed you, shoving you on your own bed.
your back was pressed to the mattress and scaramouche sat down in your lap, leaning forwards before he pressed his lips on yours aggressively.
you were surprised at how eager he was, but no way would you let him lead and dominate you. this is your job.
you threw off all the books and your tablet from the bed with your arm in one swift motion, and then grabbing scaramouches waist as you change position, rolling on top of him while he is laying underneath you.
he didnt let go of the kiss, of you, his arms wrapped around your neck while your hands press down on the mattress beside each side of his head.
he let out some soft sighs and pants throughout the kiss, occasionally letting out a gasp or muffled moan.
you took the opportunity of you being on top, pressing your ass on his dick and making him moan more often now.
his hands wandered from your neck into your hair, pulling on them desperately as you suck on his tongue. god damn it, he felt fucking amazing.
you started undressing him slowly, breaking the kiss to remove his shirt, your lips on his right afterwards again before he could even take in a breath.
you didnt care though. you waited so long for him, you want to break him apart now.
you started kissing from his lips down to his jaw and neck, giving him bites and hickies all over that area. "you've been waiting for this for quite some time now, havent you?" you teased him, rocking your hips on his as you gave his collarbone special attention.
"fuck.. fuck yes." he groaned out, trying to grab your hips but you grabbed his hands immediately, pressing them down above his head.
"dont even think about this." you threaten him, and he looks at you with wide eyes. "i will not be touching you if you dont listen to me. understood?" scaramouches eyes widen in surprise, ready to whine out. he cant have you leaving him hanging once again, he needs you more than anyone else right now, so all he did was nod and look into your eyes.
"use your words." you demanded.
"y..yes."
"is that all?" you asked in a harsh tone, making him feel so much smaller than he actually is underneath you. his face got a soft pink blush around his nose and he looked away, everywhere else but in your face right now. "yes.. m..ma'am."
you could feel your pussy clench at the way he looked so embarrassed as he called you this name. you lived for embarrassing him.
"good boy." you answered and you could feel his dick twitch right through the shorts you were wearing.
you started kissing his body again, this time taking your time at his chest as you felt it heaving so cutely for you. "id love to fuck these tits." you grinned, looking up to him and seeing him hide his face inside the crook of his arm. "maybe next time."
his heart stopped beating for a second before it sped up in pace right afterwards. next time?
but before he could ask anything, you stood up from his lap, grabbing his waist once again before turning him around and pulling his pants down in one swift motion.
"H..HUH?" he asked surprised, looking back to you and seeing you eyeing his ass again. just thinking about what happened last time made his dick throb in his underwear, already being stained by precum anyway.
you were very happy with how things were right now, scaramouche underneath you and submissive, letting you use his body to your liking.
"ever got your ass pegged?" you looked up to him with a big grin, visibly ecstatic before pulling his boxers down too and touching his butt.
"n..no why the fuck should-?" but before he could finish his sentence you sinked your sharp teeth into his ass, biting him until there was evidence of your teeth on his butt.
he let out a small scream and let his head fall back into his neck, eyes closed in pleasure and pain. "i fucking hate you." he then said and you only giggled silently.
you stood up from his legs, grabbing into your nightstand to pull out your pretty pink dildo and scaramouches eyes widened in shock and lust, jumping up immediately.
"aint no way this gonna fit.." he mumbles.
"dont worry. ill make it fit." you returned, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to your face again, pressing your lips on his harshly.
he opened his mouth instantly, welcoming your tongue in his mouth. fuck, he really cant resist your touch.
he leaned into the kiss and let out a small moan when your fingers graced his dick, playing with the tip and using his precum to make him wetter.
you let go off his lips and his dick and he let out a whine. he waited so long for this, dont stop now.
but instead of kissing him again, you leaned a bit back and pressed he colorful dildo on his lips, and he looked at you, slightly confused.
"what are you-?" he started, but you already pushed the tip of the sex toy into his mouth.
"sadly i didnt prepare any lube.. guess your spit has to make it wet now."
seeing scaramouche choke on the dildo made your heart swell in pride and joy, he really looked majestic like that. he grabbed your hand quickly, scared that you might shove it down his throat completely.
his heart was beating faster, scared of messing up. it was the first time of him sucking on a cock, he didnt want to look like a fool, he didnt want to disappoint you.
he tried to relax his throat to take the toy more in, sucking on it and looking at you through his lashes. inch for inch he took more in, putting on a small show for you.
you couldnt help but gasp a bit, pussy wet and aching for him. but you had to hold back, this was about him and his pleasure now.
"see, so you can be a good boy for me without throwing a tantrum. no need to be so bratty all the time.~" you teased him and he tried to look at you angrily, the toy in his mouth ruining it a bit for him.
you were still in your clothes which bothered both you and him, so you let go of the dildo in your hand, but scaramouche held it firmly anyway.
you quickly got rid of your shirt and shorts, sitting in front of him in your underwear while he was completely naked. when scaramouche saw your body in front of him, so close, he let go of the sex toy in his mouth and instead stared at you, biting his lip, trying to hide the faint blush on his face. he thought that you looked stunning.
you took the dildo out of his hand and kissed him again, pressing him onto his back while he leaned into the kiss, hands grabbing into your hair.
while kissing him you grabbed into your nightstand again, this time pulling out a bottle of lube.
scaramouche opened his eyes at the noise and let go of you when he saw the bottle. "wait what?? didnt you say you dont have any?" he bickered around and you laughed silently. "of course i have lube. i just wanted to see you suck on my dick." you teased him once again.
"you fucking bitch." he returned, visibly angry and embarrassed again, hiding half his face with his hand.
"oh c'mon, you looked really stunning. the show you put on made me nearly loose my control." you said as you kissed his jaw and neck downwards to his chest and tummy, getting dangerously close to his dick, which was still standing and throbbing regularly.
"cute. how can you satisfy anyone with this small cute dick?" you bullied him and he turned his face away in shame. "fuck off." was all he said, ready to shove his foot up your face but you only giggled and pressed a kiss on the inside of his tender thigh.
you heard him let out a small whimper, back finally relaxing against your pillows as he closed his eyes. you just smiled against his thigh and pressed down a few more kisses on them before taking the bottle of lube, opening it and using it on your fingers.
you grabbed the insides of scaramouches knees and pressed them up to his hands, signaling him to hold them.
it was embarrassing for him, but he didnt care anymore. he just wanted you on top of him, destroying him completely, so he held his legs and spread them, being completely naked and open for you. "good boy.." you mumbled as your fingers started rubbing on his anus, making him shudder at the cold feeling.
"we need a safeword." you said, looking up to his face and he opened his eyes in frustration. he thought you would finally fuck him properly.
"safeword?"
"yeah.. in case you dont like it anymore." you explained it.
"i know what a safeword is you dumb fuck." he said angrily, and you gave him a slap on his dick, making him moan out in pain and pleasure, arching his back and shoving his butt closer to you.
"dont get too comfy now." you said, and he looked at you apologetically.
"fuck just choose anything! i dont care."
you took his dick into your hand, stroking him a few times and watching him mewl in pleasure.
"coconut?" you asked.
"y..yeah yeah whatever" he said, enjoying the pleasure that you were giving him right now.
you took your lube smeared fingers and slowly inserted one inside of him while watching his face and facial features.
his eyelids fluttered and he bit his lip, grabbing the bedsheets as he tried to get used to the unknown feeling. you didnt move your finger yet, waiting for his consent.
he slowly opened his eyes and gave you a nod, signaling you to move your finger, so you did. you kissed him on the lips again, trying to make him ignore the initial pain in his butt.
he wrapped his arms around your body again, kissing you a bit sloppily as he moans into the kiss, moving back onto your fingers.
after a few minutes you heard him mumble against your lips. "m..more" he said before pressing his lips on yours again. you took the invitation to slowly insert a second finger into him and you felt him flinch and whimper against your lips. you let go off the kiss too look at him, but he pulled you back down again, not wanting to let go of the kiss.
you moved your fingers and he whimpered against your lips, biting down on your underlip. man, you really wanted to ravish him, but you had to hold yourself back a little more, for him.
you started scissoring your fingers and scaramouche started enjoying it a bit more, all kinds of moans and groans leaving his mouth. "f..fuck this feels so.." he started, but got lost in pleasure, losing his train of thought once again.
after a few more seconds you pulled out of him, making him shudder underneath you, opening his eyes slightly to look at you. "just do it now." he started bothering you again and you gave him a slap on his thigh. "shut up."
you grabbed underneath the bed and pulled out your strap on, making his face heat up slightly, but you only smiled at his reaction and put it on.
you’d never ever felt this way around anyone before - you could feel your panties growing more soaked by the second from anticipation. but it really wasnt about you right now, it was about him.
scaramouche really didnt expect to be fucked senseless when he made his way over to your home, and yet, his mouth was dry and his face was hot with embarrassment? fear? neediness? he didnt know. all he knew was that he wanted this feeling gone and your body on top of him.
scaramouche sighed happily when he felt the toy slowly, very slowly gliding into him, head falling back as he winced at the initial pain. you paused for a moment, letting him get used to the feeling.
after a few seconds he nodded again, signaling you to push in deeper. he groaned as you pushed in further, the size of you causing a burning sensation, even despite the lube and preparation earlier.
you pressed light kisses around his forehead, cheeks, jaw, neck, trying to calm him down.
he breathed heavily as you pushed in more, more, more, filling him up deliciously before bottoming out inside of him. scaramouche felt like his whole skin was burning hot, tears pricking in his eyes as he grabbed your arms, pulling you down to him and pressing your body on his as he wrapped his arms around your body.
you pushed your hips back towards his, rolling your hips in a slow pace as his body twitched underneath you.
"fu.. fuck i hate you so much." he reminded you again and you laughed in a low tone, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. "want me to stop?" you asked and he locked his legs behind your back, taking up your space to move away.
"no!!" he gasped as you continued to pound into him, head thrown back into the pillows as moans, grunts, your name and even a few ma'ams leave his lips continuously. a very visible bulge appearing on his stomach made him gasp out, tears leaving his eyes and smearing all over his face. "dont stop, fuck, please dont stop.." he moaned out loudly.
"i should stop." you continued to tease him. "after all these months of you destroying my life, it really should be fair if i leave you hanging." you grabbed the inside of his knees, pressing them to his chest and putting him into a mating press. "you deserve this."
scaramouches mouth was left open, tongue hanging out and drool leaving his mouth. he was completely gone, trying his hardest to concentrate on what to say. "s..so-sorry. im so sorry fuck im sorry" he slurred out, trying his hardest to not come too quickly.
"is this how your mother taught you to apologize?" you grunted, slapping his thigh and ass hard, making him mewl out.
"fuuck I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have put through you all tha-fuckk." he moaned out, looking down to where your and his body connected.
"I will stop I will stop I promise I won't bother you anymore just please..make me cum." hearing him choke on his own words made your chest fill with pride. you finally broke him.
his hands tried to hold anything of you, grabbing your bra that you still wore and opening it, throwing it away, his eyes all over your chest now, watching the way they bounce while you fuck him hard.
he was fucked out and you barely even started, using his body as a mere fleshlight for your toy, teeth gritting as he felt a familiar sensation build up in his stomach as the toy continuously pushed against his prostate, making him see stars through the tears in his eyes.
"cu- cumming. fuck im so closesoclosesoclose" he slurred out, completely drunk on pleasure.
"eyes on me." you demanded, and he looked up from your chest to your eyes. "want you to look at me as you come." you continued, and scaramouches heart skipped a beat. fuck. you really wrapped him around your finger.
you took your hand and grabbed his penis, playing and stroking him a bit to increase the pleasure, sending him off the edge as he came all over his body and your hand. you took a few seconds to fuck him through his orgasm before slowly standing still, only both of your heavy breathings heard in the apartment.
you smeared the cum that was left on your hand on his chest and stomach, painting him full with it as you teased him again, his body still shaking and spasming underneath you.
"fuck, i could do this all day." you said and he bit his lips at the thought of that.
"not gonna take any pictures this time?" he asked and you grabbed the polaroid camera on your nightstand.
"oh you bet i will."
☆☆☆
HELLOO <33 this is gonna be the last part i dont think i have much to add to the story anymore.. i hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for hyping me up the past 2 weeks <3 it really meant a lot, you guys made my days and nights.
1K notes · View notes
simplydnp · 2 months
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idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)
no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.
pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.
in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'
i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)
i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.
the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣
ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.
we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.
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creepykuroneko · 5 months
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Real talk everyone needs to learn: it is possible for someone to be both a victim and an abuser even simultaneously.
You can be victim of childhood sexual abuse and still grow up to be a horrible person who abuses your own family. The cycle of violence is real people.
White women are victims of misogyny but they can also be perpetrators of racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. Think about all those white women who claim to be feminists and looking out for other women but then still turn around and call the police on a black woman they saw in their neighborhood or a disabled homeless woman who was loitering outside a building. The term Karen exists for a reason and it is not about a woman who gets mad because her waiter brought her a tea instead of a coffee. It is a white woman who specifically targets black people and calls the police on them. There is a reason why white women have been fighting against social media to change the definition of calling a white woman a Karen. Saying the term was sexist didn't work (because misogynist don't believe in sexism) so now they try to claim that being a Karen is a superpower meant to stand up for the marginalized and get results.
Women of color are victims of both racism and sexism yet can still be guilty of racism, colorism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. Colorism is a really big problem amongst all the various poc groups. unfortunately WOC still hold up the same racist cast standards. Whether it's turning to skin lightening products, straightening one's own hair to fit with eurocentric standards, getting plastic surgery, or repeating the mantra lighter than a brown paper bag, a lot of WOC buy into the idea of what is the right way to look and what is not. Before any of you reactionist are quick to scream, " but if they don't conform to eurocentric standards they are not going to be treated like human beings!" Conforming to the status quo literally does not cause racist to stop being racist. Keep in mind that these women don't just view themselves in a negative light but everyone else who looks like them as well. What do you think women who use skin lightening products do to their children? Especially their darker skin daughters? What do you think happens when these women pray that their child will be fair skin but then are mad to see that they ended up with a brown or black child? Talk to any black, hair stylist, pediatrician, or dermatologist and they will tell you that many parents are so quick to hide their child's natural curly hair while they are still toddlers. that they want their child to have straight hair by age 3. What do you think that does to a child's mental state and self-esteem?
A white physically disabled person will face discrimination for being disabled but still perpetuate racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. There are some physically disabled people who rely on social safety nets whether it be food stamps, disability, Social Security etc etc and yet they believe that these programs should be more strict on who is allowed to receive benefits. Even though they themselves have complained about having to prove to their case worker that they are still disabled. They honestly believe that other people in need are fakers who just do not want to work. Because many families cannot afford to have a private nurse come over to assist their disabled relative, oftentimes people will care for their disabled relative despite having no medical training or knowledge. Well this is not the case for everyone, sometimes the family member they are taking care of is abusive towards them. They don't want them to leave the house, have friends, significant others, or even just a little bit of time to do something for themselves. They do abuse their caretaker, throwing things at them, calling them names, tearing down their self-esteem, and threatening to tell their caseworker that their caretaker is abusing them if their caretaker does anything they don't like. Yes this does happen in the real world.
The neurodivergent community is extremely guilty of ableism, especially towards other neurodivergent people. People will complain about how they have every right to exist in public and stem however they want, but then turn around wish that other neurodivergent people disappear. They call other disabled people normal or neurotypical for doing something that they personally do not like. The action in question is something that literally other neurodivergent people do. Think about how many posts you've seen on Tumblr where an autistic person complains about being triggered ( often times they don't even use the term trigger correctly) because their "neurotypical" coworker keeps talking very loudly and fast. Do you know who else talks very loudly and fast sometimes? Other autistic people and people with ADHD. The neurodivergent community seriously needs to stop diagnosing everyone around them as normal. Oftentimes when people try to hold neurodivergent people accountable, the neurodivergent person in question will try to completely manipulate the situation and say things like "my brain doesn't work. I don't understand did I do something bad?", " I can't be held accountable because I'm mentally disabled", or " ableism! How dare you treat me like this!". I had a former coworker who had a form of down syndrome. She would wait until management was not around and then scream in the faces of our other co-workers (often fellow neurodivergent people themselves) and literally call them stupid. When management would ask her about her behavior, she would immediately begin to cry on the spot and say she didn't know she was doing something bad. When he would leave the room she would stop crying and bragged to me about how she knew what she did. Please note she was a disabled white woman calling other disabled mostly black women stupid. For other cases of neurodivergent people being horrible people just look at Chris Chan or Jupiter the hybrid. Apart from believing that they are the only disabled person in the room, racism is also extremely common amongst neurodivergent people. White autistics also love to call the police on disabled brown and black people. If an Asian or black person announces that they are autistic, they are often met with skepticism by white neurodivergent people. I really do not have time to get into it but look up the racist history between who gets diagnosed with ADHD and who gets diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD). This very much plays a role in how neurodivergent people determine who is a "valid" neurodivergent person and who is not. Remember folks just because someone is neurodivergent that does not mean they are not upholding racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and are abusive.
Trans people can face discrimination for being trans but then they themselves are also guilty of being transphobic. Just take a look at the trans men's rights activist movement (TMRA), the tramsmed community, and the huge rise of anti-feminist trans people. Please note I am not talking about trans people who are anti-terfs and serfs, but trans people who are anti-feminism in general. For some reason the TMRA movement also believes that every single trans woman is a terf? I refuse to go down that rabbit hole to see their "logic". Unfortunately for the trans community large chunks of the community still hold on to their same Conservative Christian values they were brought up with and it's very telling when you see people talk about who is a valid trans person and who is not. There are also trans people who are homophobic. They believe homosexuality is a sin. Take a look at trans influencers who make fun of gay people, especially those who do drag, and talk about how they find drag offensive despite the fact that the trans community has a long history with the drag community. Don't believe me? Take a look at trans influencer Nikki Secondino's anti drag comments on her platform before she was arrested for murdering her dad. As with the other groups the trans Community is still guilty of homophobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families.
Gay and lesbian people are victims of homophobia but also dish out the same bigotry. There is a huge problem of acephobia, biphobia, transphobia, and discrimination towards intersex people within the G & L community. Think about all the posts you've seen that come from gay people who say that they are gay but they're normal about it unlike the more stereotypical gay people out there. They are looking to conform to their conservative values. They want the approval of the society they were brought up in even though that Society does not like them. They want the benefits of being white, christian, middle-class, and they don't want queer people "messing it up for them". They want to prove to conservatives that they are still conservative just like them they just happened to be gay or lesbian is all. Not a surprise they are really horrible to their fellow gays, queers of color, and trans people. Some people like to joke about the man who has the public life with the wife and kids but then in private is a closet homosexual who goes to the hotel with a sex worker. The thing is though that is a reality that still goes on today. It's not uncommon for them to beat or even kill their lover. Think about all the gold star lesbians and gold star gay people out there and pay attention to the terminology they use. How proud they are to have never had sex with someone of the opposite gender or someone with X genitalia. Well some people may know and accept early on their sexuality that is not the case for everyone and that is not a bad thing. This type of ideology is extremely sexist, biphobic, transphobic, and homophobic. Clinging to these out of date views will not help the lgbtqia+ community in the long run. Another thing that the community does not like to acknowledge AT ALL is the domestic violence that happens amongst queer couples. Look up the tragic case of Lyndsey Vaux, a queer woman who was murdered by her lesbian girlfriend if you need proof that queer people can also be abusive domestic partners. Ask any asian, brown, or black member of the LGBT community their experiences and they will tell you they would rather hang out with cishet asian, brown, and black people than with a white group of the lgbt+ people. Because they are more likely to be accepted by straight members of their same race then they are to be accepted by the white queer community. I know I didn't touch on it but the gay and lesbian Community are also guilty of racism, ableism, sexism, classism and more than capable of abusing those they love.
Poor people tend to really hate other poor people especially in america. I loosely mentioned it above about how disabled people want social safety nets to be harder for other people to obtain despite the fact that they also need them. It's not just disabled people who are guilty of this though. I've met a lot of people who are on food stamps but at the same time think that food stamps should not exist because it "encourages the lazy bums to leech off the system". When you try to point out the fact that they are also receiving food stamps they try to justify it. They think of themselves as a good person who didn't intend to end up in this type of situation but clearly they are the only exception, everyone else just doesn't want to work. Look at the people who are anti-free lunch programs, anti-affirmative action, anti-affordable healthcare, and anti Universal basic income, anti homeless shelters, anti-free birth control, Pro Redline laws, Pro business, pro profits over people, the entire libertarian movement. Many of these people are in fact poor and working class themselves. They just cannot admit that. Hell even amongst homeless people there is judgment and discourse. Some homeless people really do believe they are better than other homeless people because " my situation is different from theirs". The YouTube channel invisible people is a heartbreaking Channel where the interviewer pays homeless people to interview them and share their stories. The guy who runs the channel used to be homeless himself. His goal is to humanize and try to help homeless people. Every once in awhile one of the people he interviews will be in complete denial about themselves and their situation. Bigotry is a problem with poor people just like every other group.
This post is not meant to divide the different marginalized groups but rather acknowledge the problems that already exist. If you consider yourself left leaning in the slightest but this post made you mad, it probably means you have some issues you need to work on. The reality is we live in a very bigoted society. It does not matter if you're a disabled, queer, non-binary, stunning creature, you still have to check yourself for any bias you learned growing up. White people in the lgbt+ community get mad when issues like racism are brought up and accuse queers of color of trying to divide the community. In reality it is the racism that divides the community not the acknowledgment of.
This is where I'm going to end this for now. I know there's a lot I didn't touch on but let's be honest this post is already too long. If any of my fellow marginalized people want to share their experiences about bigotry and discrimination within their own communities please do so.
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