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pendarling · 13 days

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Approaching Exam

CW: Language, mentions of exam, studying, Math and English

I'm held hostage by the education system so here is a story revolving that.

Hero's pen clicked over and over again as the slow wind trickled in through the window.

They hated exams, and sometimes, they hated studying more than the results themselves.

Hero sat in the quiet room, a closed-off sector of the library that could be rented out for a few hours in a day, and they were lucky enough to get into one after weeks of waiting. They could see why it was so popular after all; the walls in the room allowed for complete silence, and it put Hero at ease despite the slight eerie sense of being alone. Their eyes glanced up at the sky through the window. The clouds moved so slowly, yet time seemed to go by fast. It made their stomach churn at the idea of being unable to get past the first page of the exam when it did happen, and time would slip by them before they got the chance to complete any of the answers. Their eyes flickered back down onto their page at the mathematical equations listed out in front of them.

"Fuck me." they sighed and ran their fingers through their hair. If Hero could trade their life as a student to become a full-time hero, they would, but being a hero didn't pay as well these days and eventually, as they entered adulthood further, they would need to look for a proper job.

'How annoying,' they thought.

The door knocked softly, and Hero turned in their seat as the entrance creaked slightly; their time wasn't up already, was it? They stared at the clock. About half an hour remained still, in walked what looked to be a familiar face, but Hero couldn't put where they'd seen them before. Their brows furrowed when their eyes met.

"Excuse me." The stranger spoke, "Is this room E1B?" They sheepishly laughed at the setting. "I think I'm supposed to be in here today."

Hero pulled out their phone and checked the schedule they were emailed, "Mmm nope, it says here that this is my room."

The stranger turned their phone toward them as well, "Well, it looks like we got double-booked."

Hero leaned back on their chair, it looked like they'd be having company after all. With a small gesture of the head, Hero directed their new friend to the chair opposite the table. "Sorry." They mumbled they weren't sure why they were apologizing; it was the system's fault for scheduling two persons in the same room within the same hours.

They studied the new character as they set down their items and pulled out the chair. Hero wasn't planning on staring too much, but when someone looked this familiar to them, it was hard to look away.

They turned their focus back onto their page, still stuck on question 6 out of 30. The practice exam had to be more challenging, and there was no way Hero would make it through tomorrow if they couldn't get this done today.

Sarah is a civil engineer working on a project to design a curved ramp for a pedestrian bridge in a city park.

Hero ran their pencil under the words.

The ramp needs to smoothly connect two different levels of the park while adhering to safety regulations and accessibility standards. Sarah decides to use a curved shape for the ramp, represented by the function y=√x, where y represents the height of the ramp at a given distance x along its length.

Hero sighed and ran their fingers through their hair; they were so bored. Why was Sarah even a civil engineer? With all that money to get through the education and become one, she could've instead lived comfortably and married a nice rich husband, assuming her status was at least middle class.

This scenario was so unrealistic, plus it's like ten times harder for women to get into male-dominated fields because of sexism. Hero rolled their eyes and skipped the question. They flipped their page and glanced back at the stranger now reading a book, but what caught them by surprise was their hand, idly twisting a blue highlighter they felt they recognized.

From the back of their memory, Hero recalled a similar situation.

They sat on the floor bound by a rope. The mission of the day wasn't going as well as they had hoped, and Hero was left at the mercy of Villain while the other sat a few feet away from them on what looked to be a large desk. From their perspective, they could hardly make out what the computer screen in front of Villain was saying, but they could certainly see the way Villain effortlessly twirled the pen between each finger. They always wondered how they did that.

As soon as their memories left them, it had become apparent. The familiar face across them was Villain.

But what could they be doing here?

There was no way Villain was seriously studying how to annotate for what looked to be an English exam. For some reason, Hero never took Villain for being a student themselves. To be fair, they sort of assumed most villains weren't necessarily part of any civilian activity, and certainly, no villain should be a student of the city they tried destroying.

Man... if Hero could get Villain to destroy the school facility, they wouldn't be studying at all. However, seeing how diligently Villain remained focused on their work made Hero no longer interested in convincing them.

'Oh God,' Hero turned their face away from their direction, 'What if Villain recognized me and didn't say anything?!' In their bag, Hero knew they kept their dagger just in case they should ever be kidnapped by any particularly vengeful villain; they just didn't think it would be this person of all; they never seemed too fond of doing more than their work let them. Hero swallowed; in that case, they should prepare for a sudden attack if it did occur; there was just no way this was all a coincidence.

Booking two students into the same room? Are you kidding me? The system never messes up. This was clearly a ploy set up to kill Hero.

Their nervousness was felt as soon as their leg began to jump noticeably, shaking the table, much to Villain's delight.

"Excuse me," They set their eyes on them. Hero froze, "Please don't shake the table. I can't write."

"Uh-- sorry."

Hero reached down and unzipped their bag, slowly creeping the knife to their side; they would attack first; Villain wouldn't even see it coming. After unsheathing the blade from its case, Hero measured the distance between the two of them. The table really wasn't that large enough to stop Hero from jumping over it; maybe if they grabbed their arm or the collar of their shirt before throwing Villain down, they would have the upper hand. If that didn't work, maybe a kick or knocking a few items from the table for a distraction.

Hero remained focused on Villain as their enemy remained unaware. Maybe they were aware and had already thought of all the different counterattacks they could use against them. In that case-- the element of surprise was most valuable.

"What?" Villain frowned at them. Hero shook themselves out of their head; they must've been unknowingly staring for too long. Well, no point in getting embarrassed over it now.

Hero's grip tightened on the handle of the dagger as they chuckled nervously, "Oh, I was just wondering--" They jumped from the table and shoved the blade in Villain's direction. With a calculated move, Villain swiftly moved their head, catching their wrist with their other hand but knocking themselves out of the chair.

Hero jumped away from them, their ankle stung from accidentally hitting themselves on the edge of the table just as they moved. Villain didn't waste any time and lunged at them, quickly covering the space between them.

A solid blow to their stomach sent Hero stumbling back, and the dagger fell from them with a soft clank; they sunk to their knees, holding themselves from instinctively vomiting.

Villain grabbed the weapon and rushed to the open window, quickly locking it in place and closing its blinds. The room was a lot darker than Hero expected. Had that window always had shutters?

Hero hesitantly stood back up. The sharp metallic edge was pointed in their direction. "Don't even think about trying that again."

Their shoulder tensed at the thought of their next plan; they could run out that door, but what were the odds that Villain had already sent back up to encircle the place, and how would they keep civilians from getting hurt?

Villain licked their lips and inched closer, "Who sent you?" they demanded.

"Huh?" Was Villain genuinely asking them that? Wait-- did Villain not recognize them?

They laughed softly at the idea of having figured out their enemy's identity before them.

Hero, the idiot who couldn't get past question 6 on the practice math exam, could easily identify Villain. All this time, they had been under the impression that Villain was intellectually superior to them in every way, and although that may be the case, they were not one for remembering faces. It made part of Hero feel tremendous.

"No one."

Their bag still contained a few other items of use, such as a small smoke grenade that would definitely come in handy. Hero would have to go online and do the practice exam from their computer; there was no way in hell they'd be able to collect all their things and run.

Villain wasn't feeling very entertained with the prospect of having to forcibly recall to the best of their ability what they'd done to be assassinated during their downtime. Without letting their eyes leave the other student, they walked toward Hero's bag and reached down; Hero felt a sweat come on; did they know they were hiding more tools in there?

"Hey, don't go and steal my lunch money, alright?"

"Shut up." They pulled the tag attached to the bag and examined the student ID card intently; it looked like an actual student identification card, though the name didn't ring a bell at all.

"Villain, I'm actually offended that you don't know who I am."

"My bad, I wasn't aware there was an exam for memorizing faces as well." They tilted their neck from side to side, examining Hero's unmoving position.

Nothing about them stood out, but this person knew their name and must be a hero, at the least, seeing how their only sense of heroism was throwing themselves in danger-- a common feature among most heroes, but that didn't narrow down which hero, in particular, they were looking at.

"Not even my voice?" Hero glanced at them with a slight pout.

Their enemy racked their brain, still clueless about their identity, and their hands roamed around the pieces of paper Hero was working on. "Whatever, are you even a real student or did you just come here to distract me?"

Hero didn't reply with anything other than a shrug. They didn't initially come to attack Villain, but they also couldn't let Villain live freely within their presence.

Villain raised the practice exam questions to their face, reading the sheet as if searching for answers to help them understand who they were up against. "You didn't even do most of these right. How did you get 1.6667? It's not even listed in the multiple choice."

They threw down the booklet onto the table; Hero blushed, "I'm not good at that stuff. But don't change the topic, alright? I could've killed you if I wanted to."

"But you didn't." They smirked.

The door pushed open again, and Villain hurriedly tucked the dagger away.

"Excuse me~" A young woman and a few of her other friends stood outside, "We reserved this room for 6 pm...?"

Villain looked at the clock and then back at the group. "We'll be leaving now. Sorry about that." They looked at Hero and egged them to get to cleaning their mess. Their feet moved, albeit nearly struggling to keep themselves upright from the pain of their ankle. They should've been a lot more careful when it came to spatial awareness. Now wasn't the time to mull on that, though.

Once they had left the library, Villain headed in the direction of their exit. "You still following me?" They spoke, almost irritated.

"You have my dagger, and I would like it back. Please." With a short flick of the wrist, Villain dismissed their request and continued on their way down the flight of stairs. Hero had momentarily wondered what would happen if they had just gotten on with it already, pushed Villain down the stairs and took back their knife. It wasn't like anyone saw it happen anyway; no one stuck around this long after hours, not even the faculty.

Villain abruptly stopped in their tracks, still a little ahead of them. "Hero?"

"Yes?"

With a slight smile tracing their face, Villain spun their head around to look up at them. For a second, Hero was lost at what they were so happy about until it hit them, and they responded to their name at Villain's call.

"Fuck you."

Villain simply hummed, satisfied, and moved on.

~~~ MASTERLIST

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#writing prompt #villain x hero #hero x villain #writing #heroxvillain #pining prompts #villainxhero #hero x villain community #hero x villain prompt #hero and villain #writing dialogue #dialogue prompt #writblr #wrtblr

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oblivious-idiot · 1 year

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London Calling

George Karim x gn Reader

Summary: You and George met while working for Fittes, you now end up secretly helping Lockwood and Co on cases. George has big fat crush and gets flustered.

Warnings: Fluff, spoilers to the season finale, swearing

Pairings: George Karim x gn Reader

Word count: 1.4k AN: I'm pretty sure I wrote this gn, but there might be a few slip ups here and there!

Back before George Karim worked for Lockwood and Co. he was working for Fittes, which is where he met you. The both of you worked on cases together and it was obvious that you two had become close - the sarcastic comments being thrown about by the two of you was enough of a sign.

Over a year had past since George left you with Kipps working at Fittes, not that you could really blame him. But every so often he’d use his little Karim charm to get some information on a latest case, because he knew that you wouldn’t say no to him, but he also used it as an excuse to see you again. He wouldn’t admit it, but George had a crush on you, and it had become so obvious that even Lockwood and Lucy had noticed.

Even with Lockwood and Kipps’ stupid bet on who could find the Bone Mirror first, you’d already started to help George and his team on cases and you wouldn't stop now, plus it would break you to see him lose his job you knew he loved. You didn’t plan on telling Kipps that you were helping George, obviously, he’d kick you from the team if you did, but it was a risk worth taking, and god knows Lockwood and Co. needed all the help they could get.

You were there when Lockwood and Kipps made their bet, if you rolled your eyes any harder they'd fall into the back of your head, but that case had been and gone now, even if you're still angry at George for what he said about himself, how he felt as if he wasn't needed. You needed that boy more than he would ever know.

A few weeks had passed since the Bone Mirror case and George is researching in the archives when you see him. You're off duty so you didn't have to wear your retched Fittes uniform, the thought of George wearing it still makes you laugh. You catch his eye from across the room and he motions to you to sit with him.

"What are we working on today Georgie?" you say as you slide down next to him

"You know, if you're so adamant on working cases with us, you should just join the agency" he says as he scrambles the papers into order for you.

You smile at his attempt to organise, you both knew the boy worked best amongst the chaos. "And miss out on pissing off Kipps and Barnes to sneak out with you? You would rid me of my happiness?" you laugh and elbows him playfully, he starts to go red in the cheeks.

You meet his eyes "You know I would George. It's not been the same working here since you felt. They really makes you feel disposable" you mutter out the last part, hoping he doesn't hear you.

George quickly adjusts himself and begins explaining the case to you. It seemed simple enough, a family had just bought a house which a Type One still resided in, so they agreed to the case - he made sure to mention to you how it took Lockwood some persuading, you both knew the boy was stubborn at accepting "easy jobs".

You arrived at the house before George, Lockwood, and Lucy showered up. It was still light so you pulled out the book in your bag you’d been reading about the Problem and just read until they arrived. One of the things George loved about you was the fact you were also interested in the Problem, he felt like he could talk to you for hours about the whole situation.

Once they arrived, you stood up to greet them - Lockwood and Lucy looked at each other when they saw your outfit, which if they didn't know any better, had George Karim written all over it. Under the scruffy leather jacket you wore, a pale green plaid shirt was visible along with an oversized band shirt tucked into your jeans. George looked a little flustered when he realised you still had the shirt you'd stolen when he worked for Fittes.

You all came together and set out the plan of what to do. You and George would set out on finding the source for the Visitor, while Lockwood and Lucy would keep it at bay.

You can’t say it exactly went to plan the way you wanted it to. Lockwood hadn’t gotten around to buying more supplies, so the team were all short on flares and salt bombs more than you would care for.

On top of all that, the Type One was more on the side of being a Type Two, making it a lot more unpredictable. George managed to find the Source, which was an old jewellery box, but when he moved the box it called the Visitor to his location. When you saw the ghost out the back of your eye, you called to George, but by the time he heard you the ghost tossed him across the room and away from the box, knocking all the air from his lungs.

Just as the ghost was closing in on George, you rushed to his side, rapier in hand, and managed to keep it at bay until Lucy threw a net over the Source. Your rapier dropped to your side as you helped George sit up and gather himself, he could see the look of worry in your eyes and grabbed ahold of your hand to let you know he was okay.

"George Karim, you are the most oblivious ghost hunter I know" you say, finally letting go of the breathe you were holding

He lets out a soft chuckle, his features soft as he looked at you. "What would I do without you y/n?" God he'd fallen hard.

"You'd be dead or had the Ghost Touch by now if it wasn't for me" you say as you pull him to his feet "and we all know Lockwood would go insane without his best researcher" you smile at him.

Once you and the team had cleared up the scene it had become light outside, you were all clearly exhausted and ready for some much needed rest.

"You should come back with us, to the house" George says to you "to rest up and eat I mean. You know my cooking is better than what you get at Fittes"

Lucy nods to you, you and Carlyle were becoming quite good friends over time. Lockwood just smiles at the two of you "You're welcome at Portland Row anytime y/n"

You spent the night, well early hours of the morning, asleep on a small fold out bed that Lockwood kept in the Lucy's room. George had lent you one of his oversized shirts to sleep in and a blanket. "Just promise you'll give it back this time".

You woke up early and got changed into your dirty clothes from the night before. You found the rest of the team were already in the kitchen, have a discussion that abruptly ended when you entered the room.

George set out four plates of food on the table and you forgot about the unheard discussion when you realised how hungry you were. Once you'd finished, you stood up and grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair.

"I'd best be off, before Kipps realises I'm gone and tells Barnes." you chuckle lightly "God knows he'll fire me if he finds out I've been working with you lot again."

You head up into the hall and grab your kit bag and rapier when you hear Lockwood call for you to wait up.

"George he-, he told us about your situation at Fittes, how unhappy you are there." he paused "I've seen how you fight, your researching skills are on par with George's. You'd make a great member of the team. Permanently."

You look at Lockwood, slightly taken aback from the proposal. "Lockwood I-"

He cuts you off and places a hand on your arm. "Think about it, but the job is yours if you want it. We all know George would be happier for it." He smiles and lets you go.

You nod and head out the door. You smiled at the thought of seeing Kipps' face when you tell him you're leaving.

#allie writes #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #george karim x reader #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co imagines #lockwood #lockwood and co x reader

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vaguely-yandere · 2 years

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obsessed enemy yandere (a bit of nsfw and degrading)

enemies who are in denial at first. it's normal to think of your rival often, right? for motivation. to work harder. study harder. develop more self control. become perfect. better.

it really was innocent at first. you were just motivation, just a fellow competitor but when you look at someone for so long, spend so much time bitterly looking at their social media, being almost constantly compared to them, well. it's only natural for them to think of you in every single moment of their lives. they dreamt of you. they thought of you. they ate to the thought of what your favorite foods were, they worked out to the thought of you blushing when looking at their physique, they showered to the thought of what your showering routine was, every moment was dedicated to being better than you.

soon, it became all they talked about. when something or someone plagues your every thought, it's only natural for them to dominate your conversations as well. (doesnt help that people encouraged it, love.) they were self aware, of course. it's hard not to be when their friends roll their eyes when they bring you up again, show them another selfie "it's obvious they're using a filter here, how come no one else sees this?!" "its so obvious they're trying to show off their trophies on purpose, they're so fucking conceited." but eventually, they're friends give them concerned looks instead of playful insults, nervous laughs and nods instead of scoffing and encouraging more insults. when your competitor is all you ever talk about, people suddenly start getting very concerned about you but do they care? no. they drop their friends. they need to focus on beating you.

everything they do, every minute, every second of their life is dedicated to you. dedicated to trying to get better than you, best you at every turn but stalking your social media wasn't enough. you didn't post often enough. text posts sure but actual visuals? of your room, your face, fucking ANYTHING!? no. they didn't understand. you were beautiful, successful, smart, athletic, perfect but you never bragged about it so what was the point?! (do you have any idea how famous you could get if you just gave it even a little bit of your attention? your lack of awareness makes me fucking sick.) but again. it wasn't enough. they needed to see you. see you every moment of the day because obviously you were hiding something, right? right?! you- you have to be hiding something! some secret training regime or studying technique, there has to be something that makes you so fucking perfect!

they didn't even realize they were doing it at first, honestly. following you around, memorizing your schedule, watching you, planting microphones everywhere, it just seemed like the normal, right thing to do. (you knew i was going to break in, didn't you? that's why you left your underwear right in the open, right? to distract me from my mission, to hide whatever secrets you have in here. it wont work. you can't seduce me like this, even when the urge to hold it up to my nose is so strong. there has to be something in the air, right? you fucking slut. i'm gonna beat you and finally, finally you'll see how great i am. how worthy i am of your attention.) they couldn't find whatever secret you were hiding but maybe they just weren't looking hard enough. it has to be here, somewhere... of course! there has to be a- a puzzle! obviously! god, maybe your dirty clothes did distract them! they quickly started taking pictures of everything, anything that could be a clue or a hint or something, they'd find out exact what you were hiding from them.

they couldn't find it. they were going in circles. it had been weeks and nothing, no changes and it seemed like you were drifting farther and farther away, hanging out with some cunt that wasn't even a quarter on your level. some fucking loser that didn't deserve your time. they stumbled around in conversation with you, barely able to keep up with your elegance but they somehow managed to trick you into thinking they were worth breathing your air, taking up your time, touching your skin, trying to romance you. they were lying to you. they didn't fucking deserve you. (i fucking hate you. how do i keep losing to you yet here you are, humoring this fucking idiot? you know you're above them. you know you're superior, you fucking know it and yet here you are. are they gaslighting you? tricking you? drugging you? are they your secret? do they know what makes you so... perfect..?)

they didn't expect you to look so devastated when your new friend went missing. sure, they expected a bit of shock but then you'd get right back into it, right back into the rivalry you two shared! you would see the hints they left you, the secrets, the clues that lead you right to them so the two of you could finally battle it out and see whos better! they'd finally taste your blood, feel your flesh between their teeth, smell your sweat up close and personal, tug on your hair, hear your whines and moans of pain right in their ear, feel your body against theirs... but after an entire week you were still sad! (seeing you cry and not by losing to me is... it leaves a sour, disgusting taste in my mouth. it makes me want to throw up. why are you so hung up on them? i'm right here. look at me. focus on me again. i just got rid of the thing that was distracting you, you should be thanking me!) so there was only one thing left to do.

purge them from your system. make you focus on the rivalry again. you understand, don't you, love? you'll be thanking me when you get back to normal and forget that fucking mistake.

#yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #enemy yandere #rival yandere

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year

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|| Bad Taste ||

Matt Murdock x female reader (& tiny bit of Frank Castle, this is part of what I'm calling my Strawberryverse series 😅🍓 check it out on my masterlist hoes!)

Tags/warnings: degradation so please turn around and do not read if you're not into that! Matt is a bit mean in this one, biting, mocking, p in v unprotected sex (wrap in RL!), aftercare.

Author's note: wonder what those other secrets could be huh? HUH?!

"...and you think you're going to catch up to me with my fifteen minute head start?"

"Darling, I know I'm going to catch you."

You smile nervously, the anticipation of the imminent chase already fizzling through your body and you know he can sense it.

"Sounds overly confident but, whatever." You shrug, pretending to come off as nonchalant, grabbing your jacket and keys and heading towards the door. "And make sure you're saying your 'mississippis' properly before you come after me…"

Matt just grins, flicking open the latch on the chest in a way that has you biting on your lip.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. You better get going… "

You run out the door, starting the timer on your watch before you bolt down the stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where you were going and how you were going to get there without Matt picking up your trail too easily. Both Matt and Frank were keen to have you practice various skills with them just in case you ever had to run for some reason and got separated. They were adamant of course that it would never happen, and they'd always be there to take care of you but it didn't hurt to be prepared and besides, you enjoyed training with them more and more…

As soon as you get out of the apartment building, you circle the block and weave a figure eight around the next two to throw him off. Scent was the big giveaway. You always washed with the unscented soap anyway but little did he know that you had plotted with Frank to leave a change of clothes at a couple of pre agreed locations. You laughed to yourself as you ducked and dived through variously stinking smelling alleyways and fragrant restaurants to confuse and mask Matt's ability to track you down with the enhanced sense.

The fifteen minutes were over much quicker than you had thought as you reached the first bag drop, the duffel hidden behind the dumpster of a bar where you snuck inside to speedily change in the toilets. You took off your own clothes, stuffing them inside the bag and pulled on one of Frank's old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. You were trying your absolute best to stay cool and calm. The less stressed and excited you were, the harder it would be for him to pick up your trail, but you couldn't help the way your skin broke out in goosebumps as you stashed the bag back in its hiding place and took off down the street to the next point, always looking over your shoulder and glancing up at the rooftops as you went.

There was a light warm drizzle in the air, even better you thought smugly, it would dampen down your path more. After ten minutes of darting through crowds on main streets and then cutting through the park, you reached the site of the second bag. This one was bound to throw him off.

The view from the rooftop where you stopped for a quick breather was something spectacular, almost half the city laid out, small and twinkling before you. You shook your focus back, but it was too late.

"Matty," you gasp, as he silently slips his arms around you from behind. You hadn't even reached your final hiding place and he'd found you already.

You could feel almost every solid inch of him all in black, pressing against you. One arm slung around your waist and the other braced across your chest, his fingers splaying over your throat and jaw, holding you firm but not too tightly.

"Thought you'd be faster." You remark.

He scoffs. "You're getting better, but don't push it."

You wiggle your ass back against his groin, smirking as he roughly clears his throat. "What if I want to?"

"Careful." you noted the dark flavour to the word. The game had changed.

He presses his nose into the nape of your neck and inhales deeply. "Mm, you smell like him. Bet you thought you were being clever."

"I was."

Matt's grip tightens. "Oh angel, you should know better."

"Maybe I do…"

You shiver as the kiss of his soft lips is soon surpassed by edge of his teeth grazing over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his voice dropping ridiculously low. "And, you're wearing my clothes…"

You choke down a moan as the graze turns to a nip, pinching and pulling the skin before his tongue laves over the heated redness. "You know what that does to me."

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as a desert, between your legs was anything but. "Maybe I do."

He shoves you forward and you catch yourself on the edge of the wall with your hands, bracing yourself as Matt hooks his fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants and yanks them down and off over your shoes. Oh. Yes, that's what it does to him.

"Oh, no panties? It's no wonder I could smell you all the way across the city." He kicks his boot in between your feet making you shuffle them further apart. "Spread your legs, that's a good girl."

Your eyes almost roll back in your head as you hear the quiet but unmistakable sound of his zipper, his hand is warm, placed on the small of your arched back while the other smacks his cock against the swell of your ass.

"It's almost like you wanted me to catch you." He purrs, gliding the hard, swollen tip through your glistening folds. You instinctively push back, aching for him to sheath himself inside, but he holds you in place, content just to tease.

Matt smirks and smiles hearing how you whimper pitifully for him as he circles and rubs his cock around your clit and then presses the tip at your entrance, but no more.

"Hm, it's just like how you teased me sweetie, had me running in circles to get to you. It's only fair."

You huff in frustration. "Matt, please."

When he lines up and thrusts inside you up to the hilt your legs almost give out.

"How's the view?" He asks the question so casually, like he's not scooping an arm around your middle, holding you to him as he slowly drags his cock almost all the way out before punching back in forcefully making you yelp.

"It's- oh god, it's…" the words won't come, he feels too fucking good, he's giving you exactly what you needed from him. You let your head fall back and lean against his shoulder, reaching behind and trailing your hand down to trace the edge of his mask. Your fingers drag over his full lips and he licks them into his mouth, catching them on his teeth and sucking as you pull them out.

"Fuck, Matt…"

"Does Frank know your little game? Does he know you're not even taking our training seriously?" You shake your head pathetically as he keeps plowing into you. "That all his pampered princess wants is to get her needy little pussy fucked?"

"Oh goddd…" you're halfway gone and you know he's barely started. He rucks up the shirt you're wearing, his large hands cupping your breasts, half-gloved fingers pulling and twisting at your peaked and sensitive nipples making you moan out into the night sky.

"Look at you sweetie, Daddy's favourite cock-drunk slut so desperate for attention. You know he's gonna ask me how you did, if you're getting better," Matt slides a hand down your stomach and between your legs to play with you, spreading your slick wet essence over and around your swollen clit, focusing on the movement and pressure that makes you shake and struggle in his hold.

"...and you know what i'll tell him?"

You gasp and shake your head again, lolling it back against him as he stokes your desire into an intense inferno.

"That you're a dirty, shameless, depraved fuck toy, just begging to be used." He punctuates each adjective with hard thrusts that have you ruining your nails clawing against the brick to stop from falling forward. "Am I right?" he asks, but he's not even looking for an answer, knowing that every word is pulling you apart, making you weak and crave more of this humiliation. Nonetheless, he grips your hair, twisting his wrist and pulling your ear toward his lips.

"Answer me, sweetheart." He growls, flooding your body with heat and slick and coaxing a wavering moan from your pretty throat.

He releases your hair and settles his grip around your neck, stilling the movement of his hips. "Slut." He whispers it sinfully, he knows it's not something he should be calling you but in that moment he groans, lips crooking up in a snarl as he feels you squeezing him from the inside in reaction to the degrading name.

"Oh you like that, desperate little bitch."

You whine, you don't know what else you can do but let the sharpness of this double-edged sword sink into you, drawing its sweet rivers of blood out. You were the one holding the whetstone after all.

He resumes fucking you, slower than before but with strokes so deep and full you're not sure how you're going to get back down off this rooftop when he's done with you. You lean forward over the top of the wall, forced by his hand between your shoulder blades, the change in angle making your eyes glaze over as your mouth drops open so your repeated cries of pleasure have somewhere to go.

Matt's beginning to lose control, smacking his palm down on your ass hard before he pulls out and grabs your arm, picking you up and hauling you to the door at the opposite side. You grasp at the skintight black shirt that does nothing to hide his strength as he manhandles you against the cool metal of the door, hiking your leg up and wrapping it around him as he sinks back inside you. His lips meet your own for the first time that day and it's far from pretty. Teeth tug and scrape at each other's lips and tongue, the riot of what you would never call kisses muffling the mess of other sounds that are assaulting Matt's ears - the creaking of the door as he seemingly tries to fuck you through it, the slick wet squelch of your pussy, and the breathless nonsensical pleas from you, all pushing him further and harder from grace.

"Fuck kitten, I'm gonna fill you up, is that what you want?"

Your eyes are so tightly closed, you're barely able to hang on to him with the way he's rutting into you so hard, yet you manage to nod weakly against him, moaning long and loud as he calls you out again.

"Filthy whore."

He presses the dirty words into your heated skin, gasoline on the already raging fire within you.

"My fucking perfect little slut… that's right angel, my dirty fucking girl."

You feel his teeth break the skin. It's just on the border of too much and just right. He's never been so wicked and wild with you before, mocking but so possessive and so you let go with a cry, arching and writhing within his grip, making good on his promise as he spills deep into you with a deep feral grunt, the motion of his thrusts unforgiving, unceasing until you're both entirely spent.

When he lets you down you almost drop to your knees but he catches you, the fleeting thought of letting you clean him up put away for another time. He pushed you hard this time and the last thing he wants is to push you away. He pulls off the mask letting it fall to the floor as he assesses you.

"Are you alright? Sweetheart, m'sorry if I hurt you." He tips your chin up gently with his fingers and you blearily smile, the soft caress of his lips on your cheek a warm and comforting contrast to the torrid minutes before.

"You could never hurt me, Matt."

Once he's satisfied you're okay, he retrieves your discarded clothes and helps you dress after he tucks himself away. He holds you close in at his side, half carrying you back home where he runs you a bath, treating you like a princess until you hear Frank getting back.

He knocks on the door and sticks his head round, greeted with the tender view of Matt washing your hair. "Alright if I come in?"

"Hi Frankie." you purr appreciatively as he pecks you on the lips, and you feel Matt sweep your hair forward to hide the purpling mark at the side of your neck.

"So how'd it go," he aimed at Matt. "our girl show you a thing or two?"

"She sure did." Matt replies, carefully massaging the shampoo suds into your scalp.

"I thought it went really well, even if he did catch up to me" you added, humming contentedly as Matt's fingers work their magic. "I'm getting better, faster too."

Frank grins at you as he cuffs Matt playfully on the side of his jaw. "S'that so? Great job darlin', bet you're tired huh? How 'bout you come 'n cuddle up with me when you're done, yeah? Wanna hear all about it."

When Frank leaves the bathroom Matt leans over you, pulling your hair aside to lick and kiss over the bite. "Our little secret." He breathes against your ear, helping you up out of the tub and wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel.

"Mm, Matty…" your fingers brush lightly over the bruise. "are there any other secrets you'd like to share with me?"

Matt pulls you into his embrace with a grin. "Oh angel yes, but all in good time."

Matt tags:

@phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass

@hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @creatingjana @echos-muses @babykaz

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil smut

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ibijau · 15 days

Text

Sins of the Fathers pt2 / On AO3

Wen Yuan's first encounter with his new in-law didn't go quite as bad as Jin Ling feared.

Still, it was far from ideal.

First of all, Wen Yuan overslept. Then, he took an eternity putting on the new clothes of golden silk he'd been gifted, only to put all of them wrong. Jin Ling, kindly, stepped closer, reaching out to at least fix Wen Yuan's collar. His hand was promptly slapped away, and his husband glared at him as angrily as if Jin Ling had tried to assault him.

“Fine, look like a mess for all I care,” Jin Ling snapped. “But I tried to help, remember that!”

Wen Yuan frowned, his too pale cheeks colouring slightly, as if he were the one who had any reason to be embarrassed, when it was Jin Ling who would be really humiliated to be seen with his new husband.

And indeed, when they met with Jin Ling's parents and grandparents for breakfast, everybody looked shocked to discover Wen Yuan's face. None of them had met him beforehand. The whole engagement had been set up through letters, followed by one single encounter between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao acting on strict instructions from his father. Wen Yuan's appearance had never been discussed, Jin Ling suspected, because they'd all assumed any young cultivator would look healthy and decently handsome.

Wei Wuxian had to be laughing, all the way back in Yiling.

Still, it was a little rude, the way everyone stared at Wen Yuan without a single movement to greet him. Jin Ling couldn’t be the one to breach the silence, or else he’d have been rude, but it became tempting the longer everyone refused to say anything. Thankfully Jiang Yanli soon recovered from her shock, and smiled warmly at her new son-in-law.

“Wen Yuan, we are so pleased to meet you,” she said, gesturing for Jin Ling and him to sit down.

Jin Ling promptly obeyed, taking his usual place between his father and the twins, but Wen Yuan did not move, standing awkwardly next to the table, as if he couldn't see an extra spot had been left empty between Jin Zixuan and Jin Ruyi.

“I am honoured to be here,” Wen Yuan mumbled with a deep bow toward Jin Guangshan first, and then Jin Zixuan. His voice was rough, his enunciation poor, as if he weren't used to speaking. “Thank you for letting me join your family, I will try to be worthy.”

Both of Jin Ling's grandparents frowned and exchanged a concerned look, before remembering they hated each other too much to bond over disdain for a new in-law.

“I'm sure you will be fine,” Jin Guangshan told Wen Yuan. “Don't hesitate to tell Rulan if anything troubles you. It is a husband's job to make his wife happy and comfortable.”

The entire family looked away from him, shocked that he'd dare to say such a thing, worried he might take offence at their shock. Only his wife dared to glare at him, but she was the only one who needn't fear him.

“Speaking of which,” Jin Guangshan went on, “while you are more than welcome to join your husband and my disciples in training, we don't expect you to entirely drop your previous cultivation method either. Just tell us what accommodations you need, and it will be arranged.”

“Thank you,” Wen Yuan mumbled, finally going to sit with his husband.

Jin Guangshan stared at him, clearly hoping for more of an answer so he could start gleaning information about the Yiling sect's methods, but Wen Yuan remained silent.

In fact, nobody managed to get more than a word or two out of him after that, much to the annoyance of Jin Ling's grandparents.

Jiang Yanli casually mentioned the great distance from Yiling to Carp Tower, and what a long and exhausting experience a wedding day was. With such an excuse provided for him, it was harder for Jin Guangshan to complain too much about young people and their bad manners. But even her skill couldn't have saved Wen Yuan from reproaches if anyone besides Jin Ling had noticed his odd eating pattern. Like the previous night, Wen Yuan never ate anything unless he saw someone else eat it first, and even then he ate very little, very slowly. When that pattern repeated at lunch and dinner, Jin Ling became convinced his new husband really feared poison, and he wondered if that was a reflection of his own sect's reputation, or of life in the Burial Mounds.

The rest of the day was somewhat uneventful, although not quiet by any means. Wen Yuan had to be introduced to a number of elders and relatives, as well as the higher ranking disciples of the sect, and the servants who would work for Jin Ling and him. The entire time, Wen Yuan hardly said a word, which Jin Ling thought was for the best. His husband wouldn't embarrass him as much if he didn't speak.

On the next day, their new normal life was set to commence. Jin Ling was dreading going back to his usual training schedule, knowing he’d have to face his cousin Jin Chan and his opinions, so he allowed himself to be late for the first classes. It wasn’t his fault, he told himself. Wen Yuan still wasn’t awake at the hour training was meant to start, and Jin Ling couldn’t possibly leave without letting his poor husband know where he was going. Not that Wen Yuan particularly cared when he did wake up at last and Jin Ling told him, but it was as good an excuse as any.

“You can come along if you want,” Jin Ling offered. “To watch, or to participate. I think it’s hand to hand combat this morning. Otherwise, you’re free to do as you like all day as long as you don’t get in trouble.”

Wen Yuan frowned, and slowly shook his head. Wise of him, really. Being small, skinny, and associated with Jin Ling in any way was too much of an invitation to be bullied by Jin Chan. And then Jin Ling would be the one getting in trouble for not protecting his husband, while Jin Chan would probably be praised by his asshole dad. Everyone knew Jin Zixun held a deep grudge against Wei Wuxian, and that he’d threatened to leave the sect over that marriage. He'd only agreed to stay because Jin Guangshan himself had asked him to, as a personal favour from a nephew to his uncle. Or at leat, that was the official version. Everyone knew Jin Zixun had no friends outside the sect, and was involved in some shady business with his uncle.

Well Jin Ling thought he should have left, and taken his idiot son along with him.

Just as Jin Ling feared, Jin Chan started mocking him from the moment he joined the other junior disciples. Accusations of enjoying his new bride's company too much to be on time were thrown at him, followed by jokes about the ugliness of said bride, something which Jin Guangshan had apparently complained about to half the sect already.

Jin Ling did his best to ignore his cousin, knowing that Jin Chan would pose himself as the true victim if he dared to punch him in the face. Already, Jin Ling had a somewhat bad reputation among teachers, who thought he was arrogant (he preferred skilled), capricious (determined), hot-headed (brave!) and unwilling to admit his faults (because he had none). He couldn’t add violent to that list, no matter how much his fists itched.

Also, it would upset his parents to learn he’d been fighting again, even though he was a married man now, practically an adult, someone his younger siblings should be able to look up to.

So Jin Ling withstood every horror his cousin shout-whispered at the other boys while the teacher pretended not to notice, and then escaped as fast as he could once the lesson was over.

He was supposed to eat with the other junior at lunches, because his father believed it was good for him to be around boys his age. But really, Jin Ling usually went directly to the kitchen to get food, and then either ate there or took it somewhere hidden so his father wouldn’t discover him being antisocial. Sometimes it was his room, but currently that wasn't an option because his husband might still be there. Jin Ling wasn’t in the mood to deal with yet another person who didn’t like him.

Instead he went to hang out in Jin Guangyao’s office. His little uncle welcomed him warmly, and let him play with his dog too. It should have been Jin Ling’s dog anyway, but his grandfather had refused it on his behalf for stupid reasons so his uncle had been forced to keep it. Jin Guangyao was so overworked he rarely had time for poor Fairy, so Jin Ling was really the one training it, and even secretly took it on Night Hunts if he could do it without his grandfather’s knowledge.

Fairy might as well have been Jin Ling’s dog, really.

In exchange for letting him hide at lunch, Jin Guangyao made Jin Ling help sorting some papers. It was their usual deal, and it allowed Jin Ling to tell his father he was taking an interest in sect business, another thing Jin Zixuan was really weird and insistent about.

A year or two ago, he’d overheard his father tell his mother that he, Jin Ling, was too much like Jin Zixuan himself had been at that age. The way he’d said it, it hadn’t sounded like a compliment. Soon after that, Jin Ling had been given new rules to follow, like having lunch with other juniors, and helping his father and little uncle with various tasks, and also his mother had a very awkward talk with him about how he should be nice to girls but not too nice either, in case they got the wrong idea and thought he was like his grandfather.

Grown-ups were weird.

In the afternoon, Jin Ling had more lessons to attend with his cousin, but he skipped them and went to practise archery instead. He’d seen enough of Jin Chan and the others already, and wasn’t sure he’d manage to keep his temper in check.

At the end of the day, Jin Ling finally returned to his house to pick up his new husband, so they could eat dinner with the rest of the family, the only meal they all had together, although his grandparents regularly found reasons not to attend. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that Wen Yuan had not left his room all day. Not only that, but it seemed as though he hadn’t eaten anything all along. There was a tray full of food on a table, probably lunch, and all of it was intact. And Jin Ling had already eaten breakfast by the time Wen Yuan woke up, so it was possible he’d eaten nothing all morning as well.

Jin Ling felt a little guilty for that. Sure it was stupid of Wen Yuan to fear poison, but Jin Ling should have made more of an effort to at least have breakfast with him. And did they show that boy were to go have lunch if he wanted to eat in company? The previous day had been so full, Jin Ling couldn’t remember. At least Wen Yuan was able to eat at dinner, but he was so thin that it couldn’t be good for him to skip meals like that.

The next day, Jin Ling was again unable to have breakfast with his husband. Wen Yuan overslept again, but Jin Ling had been threatened with punishment if he was late that morning too. He still made sure to return to their home at noon to show Wen Yuan where he could have lunch. He didn’t stay to eat with him, though, because he’d promised Jin Guangyao to give him a hand brushing Fairy.

As he walked away, Jin Ling glanced behind and saw that Wen Yuan, after some hesitation, decided not to enter the refectory and instead headed back for their home.

Well.

Jin Ling had tried. The rest was out of his hands.

The following days went on much the same. Wen Yuan still wouldn’t eat unless someone was present to taste the food before him, and he still refused to leave their home to be around people who could eat near him. Jin Ling tried to talk about it, but quickly got the impression that Wen Yuan wasn't really listening, so he gave up. But his husband's refusal to eat was bad enough that one servant mentioned to Jin Ling that the food they brought to Wen Yuan always remained untouched. And if servants were concerned enough to tell him, it meant pretty soon the entirety of Carp Tower would know as well.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when his parents demanded to see him one afternoon. Jin Ling had noticed some pretty sharp looks coming from them at dinners, and whenever they spotted him throughout the day. He'd made extra effort to not linger around them too much, certain he'd get scolded for something that wasn't even his fault. But if they asked for him specifically, then it couldn't be avoided anymore.

When he arrived at his parents’ house, the first thing Jin Ling noticed was the eerie quiet. His siblings weren’t there, then, not even the baby. Maybe his parents wanted to shout at him without scaring their younger children, the ones they loved so much they weren’t married to starving mute weirdos.

His mother was sitting on a sofa, looking purposefully relaxed. His father stiffly stood beside her, a disapproving frown already on his face.

“A-Ling, come sit with me,” Jiang Yanli gently invited, patting the spot next to her. “Oh, don’t make that face. You’re not in trouble, we just want to speak to you.”

Jin Ling shrugged, and stayed standing, just as stiff as his father. His mother sighed, as if she thought he was the most unreasonable person in the entire world, but she still smiled at him.

“Alright, if you’re more comfortable like this, it’s fine,” Jiang Yanli said. “Well, I think you can imagine why we wanted to talk to you, can’t you?”

“I can’t,” Jin Ling bluntly retorted. “You’ll have to tell me.”

“A-Ling, please,” his mother started, but her husband interrupted her.

“We want to know how things are between you and Wen Yuan,” Jin Zixuan stated. “It’s not an easy situation, for either of you. How are you dealing with it?”

Jin Ling glared at him, fighting not to let his hands form fists.

“It’s not easy for either of us?” he shouted. “Really? That’s all you can say? What’s not easy about this for him, exactly?”

“Watch your tone,” his father warned.

Jiang Yanli put one hand on her husband’s arm, the not-so-secret signal they had when she thought he should let her handle a difficult situation. It used to really be a secret signal, but since his grandfather has ordered his marriage Jin Ling had caused it to happen so often that he’d noticed it. Now it irritated him every time, while also making him feel ashamed that even his mother thought he was a problem to be solved.

“A-Ling, we know you are upset about the marriage,” Jiang Yanli told him. “I know you think we betrayed you, but I promise you we tried everything we could to change your grandfather’s mind. We always promised ourselves none of our children would be forced to marry someone they didn’t choose, and you cannot imagine how sorry we are.”

“Sure, you are,” Jin Ling grumbled.

“It wasn’t our choice,” his mother insisted, something like distress piercing through her voice, making Jin Ling even more upset. “Your grandfather was very determined. Things are what they are now, but we want to ensure everything is going as well as it can. For you, and for Wen Yuan too. You have your family around you, your home, but that poor boy is alone among strangers, and his struggles…”

“What struggles?” Jin Ling exploded. “He’s just a useless, ugly, stupid person!”

Both of his parents startled, and exchanged a concerned look.

“A-Ling…”

“He is!” Jin Ling shouted. “He really is stupid! Only a stupid person would still think he’s going to be poisoned after so many days here! And he’s so stupid that he never wants to leave the house, even when I invite him to come walk around with me! And he looks so bad, with his hair that’s always messy and the way he can never dress correctly! Jin Chan keeps telling me I’m married to a scarecrow and he’s not wrong! I’m the heir of the Lanling Jin sect, I’m going to rule it someday! Why do I have to be married to that guy? I’m the heir of the greatest sect, I should have my pick among all the prettiest and smartest people in the cultivation world, but instead I’m stuck with that!”

His mother’s face turned red. His father’s, white. Both of them stared at him with undisguised horror, as if they couldn’t believe that their son dared to have such feelings, when Jin Ling couldn’t imagine anyone feeling any other way if they were forced into such a cruel and unfair situation.

“He’s just the same,” Jin Zixuan whispered with undisguised horror. “Listen to him, isn’t he just the way I was?”

Tearing her eyes from her son, Jiang Yanli weakly smiled at her husband and patted him on the arm.

“Dear, now isn’t the time for this.”

“But…”

“Why don’t you let me talk with him alone?” Jiang Yanli suggested in that very gentle tone of hers that was always to be understood as a firm order. “If you’re upset over nonsense, you won’t be helpful, and this is a situation we can’t leave to fester.”

Jin Zixuan nodded with some hesitation. He strode out of the room, purposefully avoiding looking at his son. It wasn’t the first time Jin Ling felt his father was disappointed by his bad temper, but that day it particularly hurt.

“A-Ling, come sit,” his mother said when his father had closed the door behind him, still using that same gentle-suggestion-but-actually-an-order tone.

Jin Ling wanted to refuse, but a lifetime of habit was stronger. Before he knew it, he was next to his mother on the sofa. Still, as a vain act of rebellion, he sat as far from her as he could. She did not comment on it.

“A-Ling, I am not angry at you,” Jiang Yanli said. “Neither is your father.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Right indeed,” she insisted. “He’s upset at himself, that’s all, and only because he doesn’t see things the way I do. And you… my poor little boy, have things really been that bad with that new husband of yours? Has he made you very miserable?”

“Like that matters,” Jin Ling grumbled.

“It does,” Jiang Yanli assured him, reaching to take his hand.

Jing Ling pulled it away, but she grasped for it again, and once she had it she held it too tightly for him to think of escaping.

“A-Ling, even if we cannot dissolve the wedding when your grandfather is so determined on having this alliance, it doesn’t mean I’ll let you suffer for the sake of his ambition,” Jiang Yanli said. “If Wen Yuan is cruel to you in private, if there is something about his behaviour or manners that is objectionable, we won’t force a cohabitation.”

“He is objectionable. He is unpleasant and unworthy of being married to me.”

Jiang Yanli grimaced, but managed to turn that into a smile.

“You’ve certainly made that clear. Is it what you really think, though, or are you just angry because your cousin is mocking you about this?”

“I don’t need Jin Chan to tell me how to feel about things,” Jin Ling haughtily retorted.

“Indeed you don’t,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “So tell me what you think of your husband, not what your cousin feels. Is Wen Yuan difficult to live with?”

Jin Ling hesitated. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to hate Wen Yuan whose arrival in his life had made everything worse. But it was always harder to be furious when he was around his mother. Maybe it was the way she really seemed to listen to him, when most grown-ups didn’t.

“He is not… difficult as such,” Jin Ling reluctantly admitted. “Sometimes, it’s like there’s nobody at all living with me. He’s really weird, you know. I meant it, he doesn’t know how to dress or do his hair, and he refused to have servants do it for him. And also, he thinks we’re going to poison him.”

Jiang Yanli's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“He told you that?”

“No. He never speaks to me at all!” Jin Ling complained. “But it’s clear he’s scared of poison. He never eats anything if someone else hasn’t also eaten it. I know grandfather hasn’t noticed, but I worry grandmother has, and I thought you did as well.”

Jiang Yanli shook her head, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Her hand tightened on Jin Ling’s, almost painfully so.

“I only saw that he wasn’t eating very much,” she said, “although his portions have gotten a little more lately. I thought maybe… during the Sunshot Campaign, if we rescued from the Wens someone unpracticed in inedia who had been left without food for a long time, they weren’t allowed to eat a lot, not right away. It can be dangerous, I've been told. But I don’t think… Wei Ying would never let a child of his starve, not unless something was very wrong. After what happened when he was young… he could not, I am sure of it.”

Jiang Yanli sounded so sure of herself as she said that, as if Wei Wuxian were still the same childhood friend she’d grown up with, and not a man inspiring fear in the entire cultivation world. Her mother had been very close to the man who became the Yiling Patriarch, Jin Ling knew that. He’d even heard people say that the true reason Wei Wuxian had left the Jiang sect was because Jiang Cheng hadn’t allowed him to marry his sister, opting to let her have a love match.

If that was true, then nobody must have told Jiang Yanli. She still believed that Wei Wuxian was at heart a good person, even when there was ample proof he wasn’t, like the way he was rumoured to sometimes kill his own disciples in the streets of Yiling if they displeased him.

“So these are your reproaches?” Jiang Yanli asked her son. “He has odd eating habits, he doesn’t speak a lot, and he does not pay attention to his looks. Those are things we could try to solve, I think. I will have a talk with him, if you don’t mind. Unless there are other issues?”

“Just that is already pretty bad!” Jin Ling insisted, but in spite of himself he already felt less angry at Wen Yuan.

It really was just those things that annoyed him about his husband. Anyway, the food thing mostly irritated him because he was worried Wen Yuan was going to fall sick if he kept not eating, which everyone would blame on Jin Ling. The silent treatment was also not great, but Jin Ling hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to chat either after the first day or two, so he wasn’t exactly on steady grounds to complain about that. As for Wen Yuan’s looks… well, he looked like an underfed wet rat who someone wrapped in silk robes. There was no denying it. But it wasn’t exactly his fault.

All of the rest of Jin Ling’s anger was really against a lot of other people, mostly Jin Chan and Jin Guangshan. But he wasn’t really supposed to be angry at them because they were family, so it was easier to blame Wen Yuan for everything.

“I’ll go visit your husband right away,” Jiang Yanli decided, as she got up from the sofa, pulling her son’s hand so he’d stand too. “Why don’t you go and visit your little uncle? I think playing with his dog would do you good right now.”

“She’s a spiritual dog, mother, I don’t play with her!” Jin Ling protested, rolling his eyes. “I train her for him, because he’s so busy. It’s not fun, it’s very serious!”

“Well, go and train that puppy then,” his mother gently suggested-but-really-ordered, releasing his hand at last.

There was no resisting her when she was like that. Jin Ling walked toward the door, but stopped short of opening it.

“Mother…” he hesitantly started. “Father, he… he seemed really angry at me, earlier…”

“I will talk to him, A-Ling,” Jiang Yanli said, coming closer to press a kiss on his temple, like Jin Ling was some sort of upset baby to comfort. “I think once I tell him what we’ve talked about, he’ll actually be proud of you. I know I am. You’re dealing with this so much more maturely than we had any right to expect.”

Jin Ling huffed, trying to pretend he didn’t need anyone’s approval, but he couldn’t completely refrain a smile as he left the house.

#zhuiling #lingzhui #jin ling #lan sizhui #wen yuan #lingzhui arranged marriage #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

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aylacavebear · 3 months

Text

She Thought She was Normal

Chapter 1 - In case you missed it :)

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Word Count: 3578

Warnings: Childhood rivalry, mention of deceased parent

-----------------------------------------

Chapter 2

The team-up of their fathers lasted for two months. Maria and Dean butted heads when their fathers weren't around. Dean didn't like the fact that a girl who was two years younger than him was better at anything he could do. In a way, it had helped push him at a time when he needed it. Sam adored her as she was always making him laugh at, and with her, it was always play time. John and William parted ways but agreed to stay in touch and try to give the kids time together if they ever happened to be in the same area. Maria had enjoyed it, to a point. Dean was competitive and she'd noticed that the first day they'd met. She didn't enjoy being put in a position that required her to prove a point, but she wasn't going to let him win either, it just wasn't in her, even at five.

After she and her father had driven away, he glanced at her briefly. Her mother had always been better at this than he was, “Did you enjoy being able to hang out with other kids that are hunters?” he asked her, being as soft with his tone as he could.

“It was okay, Pappa,” she answered.

He pursed his lips, debating his next words, “That's not what I'm asking.”

She looked over at him and sighed, “Dean is really competitive. I didn't like it, and… I wouldn't just let him win like you don't let me win. I have to do it on my own. Sammy was sweet though, and I enjoyed playing with him and making him laugh and smile.”

William smiled, “I'm proud of you for that, even with it being hard on you. I think it's just how John's raised Dean as to why he's that way. Who knows, maybe it will help him be able to get better,” he chuckled a little, “Might be interesting when you see him again and he might win.”

Maria scoffed at that, “Just means I'll make sure to train more so he won't beat me.”

That made her father laugh, that deep, belly laugh of amusement and adoration, “Don't forget to be a kid sometimes though. There's nothing wrong with having a rival, even with a possible friend.”

To that, she crossed her arms across her chest, “He didn't want to be my friend. He was just mean, teasing me that I didn't act like a girl, that I was a tomboy. He said that girls can't hunt because we're weaker,” she huffed, annoyed.

William chuckled, “Munchkin, that's how boys are. They tease a girl like that when they like them,” he chuckled, finding it kind of cute how his daughter was reacting, but made a note to talk to John about this.

“Well, he's mean and I don't like him and I'm not gonna let him win. I'm gonna prove girls can hunt better than boys,” she huffed, then got quiet, “You don't count though, neither does Uncle Bobby or John.”

“Girls are smarter and some hunt better than boys, so keep that in mind,” he said softly, and fought back his tears, remembering her mother, his wife. The yellow-eyed demon was a type of demon they'd never encountered before, and she had no chance, no one did.

She smiled, “Work smarter, not harder,” she told him, something her mother had said to her often.

Maria still refused to give into the pain of the loss of her mother, wanting to feel happy remembering her mother and not sad. So, she made a choice, that no matter what, she’d feel the happiness that her mother’s memories brought her. In her five-year-old mind, it made sense to her. Just because someone was gone didn’t mean that they weren’t still with you, so that was when she held onto.

For the next three years, the two of them traveled around, her father hunting supernatural creatures while she helped with research. It was something she found she was a natural at. She always seemed to be able to put the pieces together in ways her father never saw or had even thought to. Even her Uncle called and had her help with a few different cases after William had noticed her knack for it. She'd seen the Winchesters a few different times as well, still beating Dean at whatever challenge he came up with. She did notice the last couple of times, he'd actually seemed to put more thought into what he'd come up with compared to in the beginning. Back then he'd seem to come up with something on the spot, and it was usually stupidly easy.

Two years later, her father dropped her off at her Uncle's, as William and John thought they found another lead on the yellow-eyed demon and didn't want the kids anywhere near harm's way. Dean was twelve and Sam was eight now. Maria wondered what Dean would come up with this time.

When the two pulled up to her Uncle's, she grabbed both her bags out of the truck, as well as flung her backpack over her shoulder. Bobby met them at the door, happy to have her stay for more than just a couple of days this time. He'd set up the room for her, so that was where she took her things.

“You got a time frame?” Bobby asked William.

“No, sadly, I don't. Here's her schedule. Her gun, ammo, and knives are in her duffle. She's got shooting practice and three different knife routines,” William explained.

“Damn, Will, she's only ten,” Bobby exclaimed.

“Bobby, we've had this talk already. She needs this, okay,” William told him just as she rejoined them in the living room.

Maria went over and gave her Uncle a hug, “Are we gonna get to cook again?” she asked him, curiously.

“Of course munchkin, you gotta eat,” he chuckled.

That made her happy, causing a smile to match. She excused herself to settle in, knowing her stay would be at least two weeks long, but it could last for a couple of months. Maria was looking forward to reading more of her Uncle's books. He had so many that she could never find in Libraries, no matter what town she and her father had been in. She had a thirst for knowledge that never seemed to be satiated, no matter what books her father had given her, and the amount she retained, even after years of having read it, was almost photogenic.

Maria unpacked her clothes into the dresser, keeping things neat before taking her toiletries to the bathroom down the hall. Once her bag was empty, she tossed it into the laundry bin Bobby had gotten for her during her first stay when she was five.

“Five years, momma…” she whispered to herself as she opened her weapons bag.

The gun her father had given her was placed under her pillow with the silver knife she usually kept on her. While she was at her Uncle's, she'd decided to keep her boot knife on her as a ‘just in case’. Maria looked at the other weapons in her bag; a machete, a small hatchett, a shotgun with plenty of salt rounds, a bottle of holy water, and her set of throwing knives. She decided to leave those in the bag and slid it under her bed, near the head of it. She placed her school books neatly on the desk that her Uncle had added a few years ago when she spent two weeks with him. It was at that moment she heard the familiar purr of John's Impala pull up in the driveway. Ever since she'd first met them, she had adopted Sammy as her little brother, which had only partially annoyed Dean. She smirked, thinking about what challenge Dean would come up with this time. She pulled on her flannel before heading back out to the living room.

Maria excitedly ran outside, “Little brother!” she exclaimed, as she opened the kitchen door and ran over to Sammy, who was still two inches shorter than she was.

“Sis!” he exclaimed as she practically picked him up in a hug.

Dean just rolled his eyes, discreetly taking note of how she had changed since the last time he'd seen her, and John just chuckled at all three of them.

“So, ready for the challenge?” Dean asked her, somewhat smugly.

She smirked as she looked over at him, “Ready to watch you lose again.”

“You two can do that another time,” John told them, doing his best not to chuckle, “We're gonna be heading out before dinner, so let's enjoy the visit.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, respectfully as the four of them went inside.

Maria hugged John after they made it into the house, and the boys shook William and Bobby's hands. She headed back into the kitchen and pulled out the hamburger patties and the package of bacon from the freezer to defrost. She noticed Dean just watching her but she pretended that she hadn't. She saw Dean as an annoying rival that she refused to let win. Little did she know that one day, all that would change with what was ahead for all of them.

John and William only stayed for an hour, catching Bobby up on the lead they had and that it hopefully would take little time to investigate. Maria hugged her father, shook John's hand, and wished them luck on the hunt. She watched them drive away in the Impala, leaving the truck behind since they would be working together for a while. She knew she'd miss her dad, but she was going to enjoy the time at her Uncle's and getting to hang out with Sammy. She was really looking forward to watching Dean lose another challenge of his choosing.

Maria didn’t get the opportunity to cook very often while she and her father were on the road. It was very rare for her father to get a motel room with a kitchen. She set up the pans she'd need for burgers before getting the frozen fries in the oven on a greased cookie sheet. She also made sure to season them, something she'd been wanting to try since she'd had them at one of the diners. She smirked when she realized that again, Dean was watching her.

Dean, being twelve, girls were an enigma and annoying at the same time. Maria was both of those on the furthest end. He'd never met any girl like her before. She was confident on a level he'd never seen, nor had even within himself. Due to her consistently beating him at every challenge he'd come up with over the years, had pushed him to hone his skills and learn more. William had informed John of their interactions five years ago, to which John sat Dean down and explained she was to be respected and not flirted with. She was also the only ten-year-old girl he knew who could cook with the confidence she showed.

“Do you let her do that all the time?” Dean asked Bobby as Sammy made his way into the kitchen.

“Yup. She's good at it and enjoys it, why wouldn't I?” Bobby replied, paying attention to how Dean was watching her.

“What are you cooking sis?” Sammy asked.

“Bacon burgers and seasoned fries. You hungry little brother?” she replied softly, a smile to match.

“I am now,” he laughed.

“Good. I think you'll like it,” she smiled.

Dean was almost mesmerized by her, and how she was with his little brother, who adored her. He had to act cool though, it's what boys his age did.

Maria talked to Sammy while she cooked the burgers and bacon, explaining each step to him and why she did it the way she did. She had Sammy's full attention, as his stomach had begun grumbling the closer it got to being done.

“Hey, Uncle Bobby, can you get one of those dinner bells, so I can ring it when I cook?” she asked as she pulled the fries out of the oven.

He chuckled a little, “We'll see. Dean, go set the table,” he replied, leaning back in his chair to watch them.

He'd let Maria do her own thing as she was one of the most mature girls he'd ever interacted with no matter what age she was. He wasn't about to tell her she wasn't allowed to cook, not with as good a cook as she'd become. Bobby also noticed the grumble Dean attempted to hide as he went into the kitchen to do what he'd been told. Bobby shook his head a bit, quickly realizing the difference between Dean and Maria. Sammy even pitched in, getting the ketchup, mayonnaise, and mustard out of the fridge and put them on the table.

Maria put the cheese on the burgers, turned off the burner, and covered the pan before she put the bacon on a plate that had a paper towel laid out on it to catch the grease. She carefully put the seasoned fries in a big bowl and almost jumped when Dean grabbed it to put it on the table.

“Smells amazing,” Bobby told her as he sat down at the table, knowing she liked to do things her way when it came to food since she'd gotten a little older.

“Thanks. I tried something new with the fries this time. I had em’ like this in a diner once and wanted to try to make em’. Please be honest, on how they taste,” she replied while she put the burgers on a plate, and then brought them to the table.

Sammy grabbed the plate of bacon before Dean could, sticking his tongue out at his older brother, which made Maria stifle a giggle. Dean grabbed the buns before he sat down as far away from her as possible, which put him next to Bobby but across from his brother. Things were quiet until they bit into the burgers.

“You've become quite the cook,” Bobby told her, surprised at how the burger had come out, now curious about the fries.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby, I don't get to do it as often as I want to though,” she answered before eating one of the fries.

She was her worst critic, mentally making notes on how to change the amount of seasonings she'd used, also deciding it needed a dash of chili powder. She barely noticed Sammy scarfing the fries. Dean even liked them, but he wasn't about to say that.

“The fries are pretty good too, but it's like they're missing something,” Bobby told her, honestly.

“Yeah, they needed a dash of chili powder and the spices aren't quite right. I'll have to try again while I'm here,’ she replied looking up at him.

“But, they taste fine, sis,” Sammy argued.

She looked over at him and smiled, “Thanks, little brother. You like everything I cook.”

“Cause you make yummy food,” he told her.

Maria only glanced at Dean briefly, managing to see a small amount of enjoyment in his expression before he quickly got a plain look. She rolled her eyes and went back to her dinner. Why did boys have to be so immature, she thought to herself. What she didn't understand was that boys, especially hunters, needed to be a certain way. The biggest was to keep their emotions out of their expression, and whether she liked it or not, she was helping Dean learn how to be a better hunter.

“I'll clean up tonight, okay munchkin,” Bobby told her, proud of her in ways he couldn't express, partly because he didn't know how.

She was a little surprised, but smiled over at him, “Thank you, Uncle Bobby. I'm glad you liked dinner.”

Maria went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, then her hair, and headed to her room where she sat down at her desk to do some reading. She knew her Uncle wouldn't quiz her on it, as it wasn't part of her daily schedule. It wasn't long before Ssmmy made his way into her room and looked over her shoulder.

“What are you reading?” he asked curiously.

“A book about witches,” she replied as she flipped to the next page.

“How come?” he asked, not understanding why she'd be doing that of her own choice.

This time she looked over at him, still seeing that three-year-old boy she'd met five years ago, which made a soft smile cross her lips, “Well little brother, I'm going to be a hunter and I want to know everything I can so I am prepared and can kill what needs killing, without getting hurt,” she explained.

Sammy thought about what she said for a minute. He too, loved learning but hadn't considered doing it like she was, “Makes sense I guess, but I like reading other stuff.”

What she didn't realize was that even now, Sammy was having his own internal battle. On one hand, he wanted to be a hunter like his brother, and father, and even like her, but on the other, he didn't want to. Dean had been listening from the hallway, unseen by either of them, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, annoyed.

Dean moved so that he was in her doorway, “Challenge tomorrow, after breakfast.”

She smirked when she looked over at him, “What is it this time?”

“Knife throwing,” he said, confidently.

“You brought the knives or am I using mine?” she asked.

“I brought mine,” he said before he walked away, feeling as though he would finally win one of these.

Sammy had been watching his brother, but turned back to her, “How come you two do those?” he asked her, not understanding the point of it.

“Pretty sure Dean doesn't like losing, let alone to a girl younger than him,” she chuckled.

“Are you gonna win again?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she replied, as she got up and pulled her bag out from under her bed. Maria sifted through it and pulled out her throwing knives, showing Sammy, “I've been practicing,” she winked before putting them away.

Sammy giggled just as Bobby showed up in her doorway, “Time to clean up for bed,” he told Sammy, knowing Maria had already done her stuff.

“Okay Bobby,” Sammy replied, heading out of her room.

Bobby watched him leave before he looked back over at her, noticing she had sat back at her desk, “Dean told me about the challenge he came up with. Just make sure it's out in the scrapyard and not in the driveway,” he told her.

“Of course, Uncle Bobby,” she answered looking over at him, “You think he'll ever get tired of losing?”

Bobby sighed, “Probably not,” he replied, then chuckled, “Give him a run for his money, 'cause I'm bettin' on you.”

That made her smile, “Always Uncle Bobby. I'm not gonna let him win. He's gotta earn it,” she winked, “Not like a monster will let him kill 'em, same principle.”

“That's my girl,” he smiled before he left to check on the boys.

Once her Uncle left, she closed her door and changed into her pajamas, still thinking about what book she'd snag out of her Uncle's collection to read that night. He had so many options and they were all interesting. Maria wasn't even concerned about the challenge with Dean the following day, in fact, she was looking forward to it.

Maria waited till her Uncle wasn't in the living room, roughly an hour later, before she crept out there and grabbed one of his books as quickly as she could. She closed her door and got comfortable on her bed, gently running her hand over the raised letters of the book, Angels: Myth VS Facts. She knew that she couldn't believe everything she read. No one ever seemed to have all the truth of anything in just one book, hence why she loved her Uncle's collection. She read for an hour, finding the book fascinating before she heard a knock on her door, quickly shoving the book under her pillow behind her.

“Come in,” she hollered.

It was her Uncle and Sammy, “He just wanted to say good night,” Bobby told her.

She smiled and climbed off her bed as Sammy met her in the middle of her room, “Night sis. Don't let me sleep through the challenge please. I wanna watch,” he told her, grinning.

“Night little brother, and I promise, I'll wake you up,” she replied before she hugged him.

Bobby watched from her doorway, smiling at the two of them, grateful they had each other. Most kids of hunters didn't ever get to interact with other kids in the same line of work, just getting jostled from school to school, always being the new kid, and it never lasted long.

“Night munchkin, lookin’ forward to Dean's sour face tomorrow,” he chuckled.

“Same, and goodnight Uncle Bobby,” she replied.

She glanced at her clock after her Uncle left. Eight, she thought to herself before calculating how long she could read before she had to sleep. Maria set her alarm for five, and then read the book for another hour before she reached the chapter on Nephilim.

It was eleven before she realized it, closing the book and sliding it under her pillow before going to bed.

-----------------------------------------

Chapter 3

Tag List

@deans-spinster-witch

Link to the master list for this story.

-----------------------------------------

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cfr749 · 24 days

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Next week's episode, I imagine, Tim will end up learning to let people in and accepting help. Another character growth for him, while Lucy isn't even allowed to really feel the emotional consequences of her near fatal shooting. It's already as if nothing happened and she's over it, nothing comes back to haunt her.

To me, the biggest turn off of this show/ship is this unbalance of storylines and depth between the character, the female one always getting the short end of the stick.

Hi anon!

Thank you for the meaty, thoughtful ask! Definitely some thoughts here that are right up my alley.

I'm going to start by saying I have genuinely been surprised by and happy with this season so far. Season 6, at least for Chenford, has felt like a return to the to the show's earlier roots of being truly character-driven. And I mention that simply because I still see a LOT of potential for Lucy's storyline this season.

This is the first time in YEARS we've had a multi-episode storyline seeded for Lucy, and I'm over the moon about it. With that said, the show still has its issues, and I completely get what you're saying.

While the moment with the radio was sweet and I can appreciate the sentiment, I agree that it was actually quite strange that we went from Lucy being devastated by the idea of almost killing someone to Tim framing something that will forever remind her of that moment and them smiling and laughing about it. I think in the show's attempts to deliver fan service, there isn't always someone asking: is this actually something a normal person with human emotions would do? 😂

So yeah, in making that choice, it did seem like they'd swept the shooting storyline under the rug and were moving on.

That said, I will be completely flabbergasted (and legitimately outraged) if there's not more to come in terms of Lucy's broader storyline, including her having to come to terms with her feelings about all of the challenges she's faced this season. We're coming off of multiple episodes that were very focused on Lucy's emotional state around the detectives exam and the aftermath, so I understand why they've shifted to seeding a storyline for Tim for a little bit, but I'd argue that as much as this episode gave us some (tbh kind of convoluted 😬) backstory for Tim, it was just as much about how Tim's actions impacted Lucy.

I'd argue that it was WAY easier to empathize with Lucy this episode than it was to with Tim (minus Eric's teary-eyed "Understood" that was an act of violence against us all). And tbh I'm not sure if that was intentional, but I'm more than okay with it.

For me, this was one of Lucy's best episodes in a long time -- this is the badass, take no shit woman from Seasons 1 and 2. She loves Tim dearly, and we know it must have killed her to ask him to leave, but she still found the strength to stand up for herself. She knows she deserves to be treated as an equal partner, and she demanded that Tim either provide that or go. And for her to be able to do that amidst everything else her character has been through in just the first 4 episodes of this season was IMO phenomenal (and so, so painful but absolutely needed) to see.

I couldn't agree harder though with your broader point -- the show has seemed very lopsided in terms of giving Tim lots and lots of backstory and multiple opportunities to grow and evolve, and then can't even be bothered to keep track of Lucy's parents names😭. It genuinely sucks. And they have so much to make up for.

They've given Lucy plenty of screen time and they've put her through tons of shit. I just think they haven't seemed to have had much interest in really exploring the actual impact on her character in any meaningful way, until now (I hope!).

And to be clear, I have zero interest in seeing Lucy simply tag-along on Tim's story for the rest of the season. I love that they are going to be together; I love that they are getting to support each other, but Lucy needs (and deserves) a fitting conclusion to her own story.. And if they don't give her one...

Thanks for the ask anon!

#chenford #see lana ramble #the rookie #lucy chen

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noonmutter · 2 months

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Best Boy

DWC Feb 2024 Day 4: Vengeance/Satisfaction

Pandaria was already meeting spring with wide open arms, and the cheerful, bright sunlight was almost offensive to Shedwyn's eyes. That wasn't really new, though; everything was almost offensive to Shedwyn's eyes right now. Her fucking husband had gone and got himself fucking titled--legitimately titled, through no effort of his own, the fuckhead--and he had no idea how it'd happened. She had even less idea, and his babbling explanation hadn't made it a whole lot clearer.

The fact that they were shouting at each other about it the whole time probably hadn't helped.

But still.

Fucker.

After they'd gone in circles for about half an hour, and she'd slugged him in the chest a little bit harder than she'd actually meant to, she'd decided it was time for a breather.

"I'm going to Leon's. I need sex in my mouth right now and I don't mean you."

"First of all, fuckin' ew--"

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT, ASSBAG OF KEEL."

She hadn't realized she'd been growling obscenities, mostly about her husband, out loud until the younger Ambroce whistled at her from his front door.

"Y'gonna keep me in suspense or kin we take this inside?"

"I want to be petulant and snarl some more and maybe blow something up, but I also want pizza, and I know if I do the first thing I won't get the second."

Leon nodded and stepped aside to let her into the house. "Yer becomin' downright self-policin' these days. I'm pretty sure tha's a good thin', but..."

"Shut up and feed me."

"Fine, but this better be good, y' grumpy li'l shit." He adored his sister-in-law, but that also meant he was a lot more willing to be crass with her than most. She was family, ergo she was tough enough to take a little bit of honest ribbing.

"Food then snark. Please. I want to not be the adult right now."

"Fair enough. Does tha' mean I don't get an explanation? Only if tha's th' case, I'm not gonna make yer fav'rite."

"But--"

"Them's th' rules."

Shedwyn sighed. She would kill a man for anchovies, and the man who did the absolute best thing with them was standing right in front of her, and she was a Lady, god dammit, and... She sighed again. She could be polite for a little while.

"All right."

"Attagirl."

"Don't push it, Ambroce."

Laughing, Leon closed the door behind them and fled to the kitchen to get to work. It was a good thing everyone else had left for their own chores for the day, or the complaints would've started within five minutes of the fishy dish going into the oven. For the most part, the house smelled of salt, generic "fish" smell, shrimp, ham, cheese, and tomatoes, but those first two really overpowered the rest. Anchovies were not popular at the restaurant in Stormwind, but the ones who liked them really liked them, as he'd found out, so he kept a small supply at home for emergencies. Emergencies like his little mana-bomb of a sister having a bad day, for example.

They didn't talk about much of anything while he was cooking. Leon was too focused to offer up much of anything without being prompted, and Shedwyn was in no mood to talk like an adult yet. She was in the mood to pout, and scream, and maybe punch Terry again. She'd had to go through so frickin' much to get her own title set down on paper and into the records that mattered; she'd memorized every stupid word of the stupid Doppelganger Decree of 28 and would probably not be able to forget about it for years. And Terry'd gone and fuckin' farted out a dynasty.

Shedwyn Lias-Ambroce was not strictly speaking a jealous woman, but she had limits. It just wasn't fair!

Somewhere amid the interminable brooding, a steaming pizza appeared on the table in front of her, and the clouds parted. Angels didn't sing, because angels sucked and didn't like anchovies, but that was fine. More for her. The first bite was always the best, but the second through sixth bites were pretty damned amazing, too.

Leon was kind enough to wait until she'd torn through two slices before he cleared his throat. When Shedwyn was not immediately forthcoming, he made his point by taking a slice of his own and sitting down. She growled to herself, then picked up a napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

"Your brother got lucky again."

"...Like yer 'avin' another kid, or...?"

This time, the sigh was loud, extremely melodramatic, and seemed almost to propel her backwards to drape over the back of her chair. "Like he didn't end up dead or promoted at the end of the Gilneas campaign, so he fell ass-backwards into a viscountcy instead!"

Leon blinked, then took a bite of his slice. Nope. Still don't like anchovies. "Alright..?"

"All right? Really? That's the first thing you say? Your brother's a goddamn titled, landed Gilnean nobleman out of nowhere! After all the shit I went through to get my shitty little Barony carved out of Duskwood! Not only does he just walk into some office in Stromgarde and walk out with a title, he walks out outranking me! Which I didn't know I would care about until it happened!"

Leon said nothing, simply letting her unload, as was his wont. His neverending patience pissed her off even more, as was her wont.

"I had, and still have, to work my absolute ass off for every single scrap I've ever gotten or ever will get, and then I have to work even more to keep it, and your bullfuckin' Ambroce luck has Terry just survive long enough! What the fuck, Leon?!"

When she stopped to ask him a question, even if it was a rhetorical one, Leon looked up from finishing off his slice. He calmly licked his fingers, then set his elbows on the table. Then, he set his chin on his hands. "Would it 'elp any if I said it wasn't all luck this time?"

"Well of course it wasn't all luck, it takes a shitload of skill to survive the absolute fuckalanche of shit he's been through, but--"

"No, I mean it was me."

That stopped the little mage mid-rant. "What was you?"

"Th' Gilnean Repatriation Initiative sent out letters somethin' like a month ago. I got one, you prolly got one tha' got tossed out, knowin' 'ow you an' Terry feel about anythin' bearin' th' royal seal of anywhere."

Shedwyn gaped.

Leon continued, "I'm just as much a Gilnean as 'e is, but I've my life 'ere, an' I very much like it. An' really, goin' 'ome does not bring 'appy mem'ries t' th' fore. Maybe I coulda got th' ranch back, but... gods, I don't want it. But I know Terry does. An' anybody 'o'd met th' man fer five minutes knew 'e'd go back t' Gilneas th' instant th' call went out. So I sent a reply with a couple suggestions."

Shedwyn's hair was starting to crackle like one of those globe toys that made lightning strike where your fingertips touched them.

Leon, undeterred, picked up the pizza plate and walked it back into the kitchen.

"My brother is a turd, a recoverin' racist, an' more than a bit of a jackass. But 'e's also an extremely patriotic, loyal man when 'e wants t' be. Tha's admirable as 'ell! Downright noble, even. Apparently they agreed, eh?"

The chair clattered to the floor as Shedwyn stood up, both hands up in front of her, grasping at the air in a strangling motions.

"You- you-"

"Feel free t' tell 'im Leroy says congratulations." He turned and stared her straight in the eye, even as they crackled with arcane lightning. "Elroy does, too."

Later on, Shedwyn would say the only reason Leon survived that meeting was because she didn't want to destroy the house, his spouses didn't deserve that.

Mostly it was because everytime she'd try to gather up the energy to cast something, he'd headbutt her, and she was too stubborn to dodge.

( @daily-writing-challenge @shedwyn )

#my writing #leon #shedwyn #dwc #waxing crescent #leon's xanatos gambits are always the best #all because Terry called him Leroy for 25 years and Shedwyn told everybody his middle name at his wedding with Pin #he is every inch the younger brother

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targaryen-brainrot · 1 year

Text

reminders // aegon ii targaryen/gn!reader

cw: nsfw themes, cockwarming, otherwise fluff/comfort

"Lean back, sweetling."

Aegon does as he's told, shifting out of their embrace and dropping his head back until the soft strands touch water.

His lover diligently starts massaging in the soap, their nails scratching his scalp. He's a mess like always, knots in the ends of his hair and they sigh while trying to work them out. Aegon whines when they pull a little too hard and they laugh lightly in response, "If you would just brush it from time to time we wouldn't have this problem."

"I like it more when you do it," he says it lowly, though without any trace of shame. He's fairly open with his neediness.

His reward is a short kiss on his forehead before they lean over the side of the tub they're in and grab the brush they'd left there for this purpose. With the help of it and more soap they untangle his hair and wash out the dirt and grime until all that's left are silky white strands that float around his head like a crown.

He sighs contently when their fingers start up and his lover starts properly massaging his head. Aegon scoots back until he's pressed against their chest again, his head resting against their shoulder and making the task of massaging it much harder.

They still keep it up for a moment, indulging in his pleased hums, before they slide down one hand to settle on his throat lightly while the other traces over his face. With their pointer and middle finger they gently trace over his forehead down his nose and up again, a smile tugging on their lips when he leans into it.

When they move again and close their arms over his shoulders and legs around his midrift he laughs and settles his own arms on their legs under the water.

"How was your day, my dragon?"

"Fine." He doesn't even put effort into lying. His tone betrays it was anything but.

"Talk, love."

"Mother just had a go at me again. It's a little exhausting to be a disappointment just by existing."

Their hands caress his arms under the water, gently working into the muscles. They try to not let their anger grow at the defeat in his voice.

"Your mother should find someone to fuck her from time to time. She would greatly benefit from getting laid, I believe. Perhaps it would permanently remove the stick from her arse."

He giggles. He fucking giggles at that and melts their heart. "Please don't mention my mother bedding anyone ever again."

"You realise she had to bed your father to make you."

"What a horrifying image."

"Mh." He sounds happier again and it settles their rage on his behalf. "I'm quite happy they did. I would miss your company."

"You'd find someone else."

They put more strength into their embrace until he huffs at them.

"I only want you, my dragon. You'd do well to remember it finally."

When they release the pressure on his torso again just a little, he drops his head further back so he can press a kiss on their jaw.

"Sure you do." They can hear his doubts but let it drop for the time being.

Instead they reach for another piece of soap and cloth laid on a side table and begin cleaning him.

He pliantly follows where their hands lead him, holding up his arm when they nudge it, and he only makes a few comments about wanting to fuck, half-heartedly and easily put aside.

All in all he's on his best behaviour.

Aegon leans forward when they quickly clean themselves and then steps out of the tub, grabbing the towels from where they'd been laid out in front of the fire, before holding one open for them to step into. With more gentleness than he outwardly seems capable of he dries them both.

They settle in his bed, under fresh sheets and with a bowl of fruit between them that they share, and talk of nothing of importance.

Until Aegon's eyes slip closed again and again.

With a silent laugh they put the bowl on his nightstand and then settle on his chest, their arm around his middle and their legs entangled.

Aegon whines lowly and then his hand wanders between their legs, "I need you. I need you close."

He asks for this often enough that his lover knows immediately what he's after. They shift on top of him, grinding against his cock that's half hard between them and reach for the oil that's permanently by the bed.

He doesn't even open his eyes, just lets himself be moved and touched and moans occasionally. His hands bury themselves in their thighs when they sink down on him.

Lost in the pleasure of their heat, he bucks his hips up and makes them both groan. They both breathe heavily for a couple of moments, before he whines again, opening his eyes and reaching out with a pout.

He's hard to withstand.

So they settle back down, now with their entire weight on him, taking care not to let him slip out of them, and press their face against his. His arms close around them and he hums in satisfaction.

"I love you very much, Aegon Targaryen."

His breathing stops shortly before he answers, "I love you too."

Now, there's nothing but honesty and appreciation in his voice. Aegon doubts their love daily, whenever someone else makes him feel undeserving of it, but they'll make sure to remind him time and time again.

#i'm soft for him your honor #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon the elder #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #my brainrot #gn reader

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 6 months

Text

Trick Wh(or)e Treat

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: none really, just a cute Halloween one shot! A little treat for you all since it's been a while 🎃 swearing, name calling, mentions of hauntings, Halloween puns, nervous boys, drinking, teasing 🖤 rating: mature I suppose

"Boo!" Dominic shook harder at the silly word. He'd had an impossibly hard night even though Halloween was always his favorite. The world was a freak show on October thirty first, not just him. Not just his mind. "Shit, I didn't mean to actually scare you. You good?" He didn't know how to answer the calming voice, he just shook his head no and hoped his trembling was enough of an answer. His best friend sighed and pulled him inside his home, taking off the demon mask he was wearing to reveal a heavily made up face. Seemed he had multiple costumes in one. Or maybe the mask was just to be silly. "Fuck happened?" The rapper asked, pulling the boy into his arms but Dom didn't know how to speak. He was starting to think he should just go home.

"Close the door." He whispered instead and Colson poked his head out, looking around to make sure everything was safe before he shut and locked it.

"Should I get a gun?" The taller man half joked but when his friend just shrugged he felt himself go more on alert. If someone was after the punk they'd have to go through him. "Dude- talk to me." He growled as Dom pulled away and stumbled over to his bar, pulling out a bottle of tequila and downing enough to start a fire in his belly. Shiiiit, Kells knew something was seriously wrong if Dom was drinking that.

"Fink I've got a ghost." He panted, his black lipstick smeared. Finally Colson was able to take in his appearance a little more. Honestly the kid looked like he belonged in West Hollywood, he was barely wearing more than a Victoria Secret Angel but the man wouldn't complain. He might stare and grumble internally but he wouldn't complain.

"Slutty much?" Okay maybe he would complain a little, but only because every time he saw Dom so underdressed it gave him a funny feeling in his stomach. Or lower. Definitely lower.

"It was for a party. Fuck off. It ain't me main costume." He snarked back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Sparkly black smeared across his cheek and he looked as if he'd been rode hard and put away wet- in the best way. The singer looked down at himself, his fishnet top and barely there black bottoms, his torn hose and scuffed knee high boots. Even his wings looked bent and ruffled. "Fuck. Did you 'ear me?"

Kells nodded, joining the boy at the bar to get his own drink, though he kept it calmer with a whiskey. "And I'm supposed to believe in ghosts?" He asked, his voice already a drawl as if he'd been pregaming before whatever party he was headed to.

"You don't?"

"You do?"

"It don't matter! I'm being 'aunted!"

Kells took a deep breath and a deeper drink, his blue eyes covered by red contacts were locked on the kid and taking in his stressed look. Even so upset and halfway to drunk he was adorable. Shit. The glass hit the bar top a little too sharply and he rubbed the back of his head. "Okay, why do you think you're haunted?"

Dominic smirked, the corner of his lips curling up as he all but vibrated where he stood. In the boots he was almost six foot but still shorter than Kells so he was able to look up at him from under thick eyelashes with his big jade eyes lined in coal. "Cause I can't get ya out me 'ead." The punk whimpered softly and for just a moment they both stopped breathing. He didn't know what had pushed him to finally say something but he'd woken up that day and knew he had to. It had terrified him all bloody day.

One of Col's brows went up and his lips started to twitch as if to smile or laugh. For just a moment he was sure the kid was pranking him but he'd never seen Dom look so vulnerable. Open. Scared. He took a breath as his heart jump started itself and took a step closer. "Why'd you shrug about me getting a gun then?"

That heavy gaze dropped to the rapper's too tight pants and it felt to Kells as if he'd been touched. He couldn't help but shudder. "I never said which gun."

Colson snorted, shaking his head at his best friend's absurdity. He wasn't upset and he somehow wasn't as scared as he thought he'd be. This always seemed inevitable. "You think you can show up looking like a whore fallen angel and get in my pants with a bit like that?"

"I fink I could show up in any'fin wiv no bit and get in ya pants Kells. But look-" He hummed, reaching behind himself to fiddle with something in the wings. After a moment they lit up with tiny sparkling lights and fluttered a few times. The man couldn't help but grin and move closer.

"You don't have a halo." He teased, staring at the mess of wild hair. He wasn't sure why he kept picking on the boy but he couldn't help it. A lot would change the moment he agreed or disagreed.

"Yeah I do but you supposed to wear it." The boy purred so smoothly that it took the rapper a moment to figure it out but when he did his dick jerked and he groaned deep. He felt himself drawn even closer, their bodies like magnets.

"You think your ass is heaven?"

"You fink it's not? Only one way to find out. So, you gonna stop 'aunting me Cols?" Dom whispered, tangling his fingers in the taller man's shirt to pull him down. Down. Their lips were only an inch apart but it still felt too far.

Colson licked his lips, his hands itching to see what the kid's skin felt like under his palms. What he tasted like. How tight his halo was and if it would fit on his… head. "Trick or treat?"

"Treat please?" The punk asked softly, his hot breath ghosting Col's mouth. They both smiled as their lips met and hands started to wander. As things turned just a little sloppy he couldn't help thinking it was definitely that, a special treat just for him. He just hoped he wouldn't wake up tomorrow to find it was all a trick but he trusted Dom better than that. He was the devil and the boy in his arms was definitely an angel. His angel. It might just turn out to be his happiest Halloween yet.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker (thank you for the title idea 👻) @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @triplexdoublex @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 🖤

Sorry I haven't written in a while but my whole day is devoted to taking care of my mother. I put this together as a treat while she was napping. I hope you're all having a wonderful Halloween! 🎃 Love you so much! Hopefully I can write more of my regular stuff soon 🖤

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jihyocentric · 1 year

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could we get some soft fwb!jeonghyo? like just them cuddling and being all lovely, yk just them being fools acting sm like a couple while not confessing their feelings

thanks in advance, I love sm your work <333

thank you for reading! ...and this is the last fill that i mention the word 'birthday', i promise!

missing class was a rare occurrence for jihyo and jeongyeon, but when they were both tired and sick from the other night, none of them had the energy to get up from bed.

jeongyeon's bed became jihyo's as well, because for the past months, she'd been crashing at jeongyeon's room. not only for funny business, but because jihyo liked being hugged when she slept and jeongyeon provided the best source of warmth. it reminds her of the times when they were younger and had sleepovers. nowadays, they wouldn't talk about new game releases, daydream about their crushes or complain about their parents, but they'd share some other kind of intimacy that only adults should be allowed to share. they'd still laugh together, but the difference from when they were young was rather clear.

"don't move." jihyo whines, feeling her throat sore and forehead burning.

"i have to call in sick to work," jeongyeon says, trying to remember where she'd placed her phone.

jihyo's arms wrapped around her waist didn't allow her to move much, and one thing about jihyo when she was sick was that she got impossibly needy. jeongyeon knew from experience, because not only was she jihyo's friend since they were teens, but she's been living with park jihyo for more than a year, and that was enough to know just how clingy and whiny she got when sick.

now jihyo was her problem to deal with. she knew what would be the consequences of stealing jihyo from her birthday party to play with her in snow, but she didn't regret it at all. it made the night way better, and jeongyeon could still remember the big smile jihyo had on her lips the night before, and how it grew bigger each time jihyo threw a snowball on her.

jihyo hugged jeongyeon tighter, her forehead touching jeongyeon's back. she was way worse than jeongyeon was. jeongyeon's problem was the tiredness that came from a cold, but jihyo was feeling feverish and her body was hot. jeongyeon's bed was bigger than jihyo's, but it wasn't that big either. while they didn't have to stay glued on each other to be able to fit on the bed, jihyo was holding jeongyeon like a baby koala. and, with the way that they were positioned, jeongyeon could feel how strangely hot jihyo's body was.

"stay in bed with me." jihyo asks, her voice husky and whiny.

jeongyeon sighs and makes sure she won't forget to ask one of their friends to buy some medicine for her and jihyo when she gets her phone.

"i'll be right back, i promise."

jihyo lets go of her, hesitantly. before jeongyeon leaves the bed, she sits and touches jihyo's forehead, frowning when she feels the skin burning under her hand. jihyo pouts and moves jeongyeon's hand away. "just go already, so you'll be back quicker!"

"i'm just checking up on you, princess." jeongyeon says teasingly because that's what mrs. park calls jihyo, and laughs when jihyo punches her leg.

"don't call me that. it's for my mommy only." jihyo whines.

jeongyeon clicks her tongue, and the answer was quicker to leave her mouth than she had time to think through. "sometimes you call me that too..."

it was a lie and even then jihyo got offended. before jihyo could hit her harder, jeongyeon ran away. unfortunately, jihyo was skillful enough to manage to throw a pillow at her before she left her room. jeongyeon had a hard time finding her phone, but when she found it, the first thing she did was message nayeon and ask her to buy medicine for jihyo and ingredients for homemade soup. she dealt better with her own cold, and apart from having a slightly runny nose and feeling her limbs heavier than usual, she was relatively fine. just not fine enough to work and go to college.

after she calls work and uses her sick day, jeongyeon returns to her room and sees that jihyo is hugging her pillow, waiting patiently for her return. jeongyeon joins her in bed again, and jihyo lets her take the pillow back.

"you look dead." jeongyeon says, face to face with jihyo now.

"thank you, that's exactly what a woman wants to hear." jihyo replies, unbothered, getting closer to jeongyeon like a magnet. she snuggles into her neck, searching for comfort. "i feel like a car ran into me."

jeongyeon laughs. "i warned you we'd be sick."

"and you still brought me to play in snow with you. you played dirty." jihyo retorts, her hand moving to jeongyeon's bare arm. she squeezes her biceps, and something feels different. "did momo finally convince you to go train with her?"

"you liked it," jeongyeon hits back. "and yes. why? do you have the hots for my muscles?"

"maybe." jihyo shrugs. it's a matter of seconds for her to feel jeongyeon's hand over her shirt, squeezing her tit firmly. jihyo quickly slaps jeongyeon's hand. "i'm sick, you pervert!"

"i thought we were playing the game of 'touch your favorite part on your best friend'." jeongyeon says and jihyo groans.

"i hate you. i mean it from the depths of my heart." jihyo says. "but we can kiss. we're both sick, so getting anybody infected won't be a problem."

the suggestion is tempting and jeongyeon isn't going to say no to kissing jihyo, even if they weren't in the best physical condition. she brings jihyo closer, so jihyo was almost lying on top of her, and smashes their lips together. jeongyeon's lips make jihyo forget the painful headache she had since she'd woken up, and being in her arms made her feel safer.

it makes jihyo remind of the first months after she'd left her parents' house, and whenever jihyo was sick, she'd call her mom. it was convenient, since her parents lived not more than an hour away from the apartment she shared with jeongyeon, but then again, she wasn't a kid anymore, and so, she had to show her parents that she'd grown into a mature woman. so, eventually, jihyo stopped asking for their help. which meant that jeongyeon took care of her now, and she took care of jeongyeon.

jihyo just never thought she'd end up like this, and if maturing meant she got to make out with jeongyeon when she got a cold, then she was glad she was all grown up now. at least when she kissed jeongyeon, she didn't feel her throat aching and her body didn't feel as stiff anymore.

jeongyeon breaks the kiss first, and jihyo lies comfortably on her lap, with her head over her chest.

"nayeon unnie will arrive soon with your medicine." jeongyeon comments.

"good. but you'll have to pay me back for making me lose my classes." jihyo replies, feeling jeongyeon pressing a kiss at the top of her head. "kisses won't make me healthier, yoo jeongyeon."

"it's good for the heart," jeongyeon reasons. "and you should stop blaming me. you had more fun with me than at your party, admit it."

jihyo hums. "maybe."

"grumpy." jeongyeon sighs, resting her hand on jihyo's thigh, the other one caressing her back mindlessly. she hears a sound and it's jihyo yawning, clearly still tired. "you can sleep for now. i'll wake you up when unnie arrives."

"of course i can." jihyo says in a low tone. "and you should keep quiet. pillows don't talk."

it makes jeongyeon laugh at her pettiness. she knows jihyo won't let go of her until the fever comes down and the cold ceases, but she figures it wont be that bad to have a needier version of jihyo on her side all day long.

#anon #jeongyeon #jihyo #jeonghyo #fwb!jeonghyo #sfw #fill #ignore typos #i'm sleepy. as always #its just that i only find time to write before i go to bed

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moriavis · 2 months

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memir and bele 51

51. Kissing Each Finger

First of the night is d&d fic! Let's do this thing! No beta we die like Kauthiel!

~*~

Things had changed wildly in Bele's life over the course of the last few months-- starving, surviving on the whims of those around him. Every day was a desperate struggle to see the sunrise.

Now? Now his life was even more dangerous than it had been, even though the rewards were greater. They'd fought a dragon. A dragon. Admittedly, it had been stuck in place, but he wasn't going to downplay their accomplishments.

The sound of water drew his attention, and Bele twisted his wedding ring around his finger, torn by the urge to peek into Memir's emotions to gauge whether Memir would be comfortable with Bele buzzing around him, versus the knowledge that Memir would welcome him now regardless. Bele was pretty sure of that. Maybe.

On impulse, Bele rose to his feet and went into the adjoining bathing room, standing in the entrance for a moment as his heart tumbled in his chest. As always, Memir was beautiful, his gold skin gleaming from the heat and steam of his bath, and Bele's eyes stung with moisture at the sudden surge of affection and gratitude he felt.

"Come in," Memir grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as he soaked in the hot water.

Bele smiled to himself and stepped in, sitting with his back against the tub and taking Memir's hand in his. He wasn't that skilled in medicine, but it looked like Memir had only suffered minor damage from excessive use of his bow. Malus was the one who had a harder time in their last battle.

"You killed a dragon," Bele whispered, cradling Memir's hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to each fingertip. "You're amazing."

Memir shook his head, his hair rippling the water. "We all worked together."

"Still," Bele said, staring down at Memir's hand and running his thumb over the calluses of Memir's palm. "You're the one that took him down. I'm never going to forget it."

"Hn." Memir turned in the bath, pulling his hand from Bele's. He pressed a kiss to the space behind Bele's ear. "Maybe you should give me a reward, if it was so unforgettable."

Bele laughed and stood, reaching into the water to heft Memir in his arms. "You ever get tired of being right?"

Memir's tail lashed once before wrapping securely around Bele's arm, and he laughed, the sound making his heart beat faster with anticipation. "Take me to bed, husband."

Bele, with an unusual flash of wisdom, did exactly that.

~*~

Kiss prompts!

#kiss prompts #my fic #d&d fic #memir/bele

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leiawritesstories · 2 years

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A Rowaelin prompt if I may; Rowan and Aelin are engaged, but every time someone asks them to tell how the proposal went/how they ended up engaged, they make up new stories - each one more random and dirty than the one before. No matter who asks, whether family, friends or random old ladies at the grocery store.

Thank you SO MUCH for the prompt!! <3

word count: 912

warnings: language, naughty naughty jokes, mentions of sex, lots of innuendo

enjoy!!!

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

Aelin could hardly open the garage door, she was laughing so hard. Rowan wasn't any better, he was bent halfway over, clutching his stomach, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he tried and failed to catch his breath.

"Shit, Aelin," he wheezed, fumbling for the door to hold it open for her, "In public?!"

"And here I thought you were the one who was into that," she smirked, cackling even harder. She managed to place the bags of groceries both she and Rowan were carrying onto the counter before another wave of laughter crashed over her, leaving her to sink to the floor, wheezing helplessly. "I can't believe I said that."

"I can," Rowan grinned, handing her a tissue.

At the grocery store, they'd been going through the checkout line when the cashier, a very sweet lady about Rowan's mom's age, had noticed Aelin's engagement ring and offered her congratulations. And then she'd asked them for the story, of course, like so many of their friends and relatives and even random people on the street had done in the two months since Rowan had popped the question.

Wicked sparks gleamed in Aelin's eyes.

"Well," she began, leaning in like she was sharing a secret, "I think it was the fourth orgasm that did it."

The poor cashier's eyes had nearly fallen out of her face as she goggled.

Innocently, Aelin continued. "Y'see, he'd never gone more than three rounds back to back, something I'm certainly not complaining about, no ma'am, but something about that resort must have given him extra stamina or something, because the man is insatiable." She winked broadly. "Insatiable, I tell you. In the pool, in the shower, all over the suite--hell, the poor staff's probably still finding scuff marks on the walls from the bedframe banging into it. Three times my fine fiancé had filled me up, and just as I thought he was going to drop down next to me and fall asleep, he and his best friend suddenly became re-energized, and I found myself in a position I'd never tried before. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, no indeed." Her grin was positively evil. "So after that round, in the throes of bliss and all of that, he rolled over onto his side and just panted, 'Marry me, baby.' I thought for sure it was the orgasms talking, but he was serious." She blew Rowan a kiss, admiring her ring.

The cashier's jaw hung open. She took a big deep breath and shook herself back into business mode. "I...I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together," she managed as she rang up the total.

Aelin and Rowan had barely made it out the doors before they exploded with laughter, great pealing guffaws that lasted the whole drive back to their house. She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to see well enough to drive given the film of laughter-tears that clouded her eyes, but they'd made it.

"I think that was the best one yet," Rowan remarked as he helped her stand.

She snorted. "Better than the one we told Lorcan?"

He coughed, the memory of that account rising. "Shit, maybe not."

Elide and Lorcan had been some of the first people to find out about their engagement. They'd been over at Rowan and Aelin's house, and the loudest shriek Rowan had ever heard in his life emitted from Elide when she caught sight of Aelin's new ring. Of course, she and Lorcan had demanded the proposal story right away. Aelin shot Rowan a wicked wink, her intent to spin something absolutely wild showing in the gesture.

Then she'd launched into a gushy retelling of the place where Rowan had proposed--the Galathynius family's cabin in the Oakwald Forest--complete with a hell of a lot of embellishment, mostly involving celebration sex.

Rowan couldn't help himself when Lorcan raised an eyebrow and inquired how well he thought it had gone.

"Judging by the way she squirted all over my face, I'd say it went very well indeed," he'd hummed, smirking like the cat who ate the canary.

Or the fiancée, as it were.

Lorcan's face went a rather gratifying shade of uncomfortable. "Fuck, Whitethorn," he grumbled, crimson staining his cheeks. "Why the fuck d'you have to be so crude?"

"Pot, kettle," Rowan snorted, snickering at his oldest friend.

Ah yes, the start of their wild proposal stories.

Aedion and Lys had been told that Rowan proposed on a ziplining date, one of the wilder adventures he and Aelin had taken together, an adventure that had almost given him several heart attacks when Aelin decided to go down the route that included leaping off a tree into a steep plunge as part of the course. Aelin's parents had heard that their future son-in-law proposed on the way home from the club. While singing a boisterous, off-key rendition of "Let's Get It On" and stumbling over his own two feet. Rowan's parents had heard that he proposed in an airplane bathroom--what the two of them were doing together in an airplane bathroom, they had not wanted to know.

They invented proposal stories on the fly, whenever someone new asked. The one Aelin had told at the grocery store was definitely the dirtiest, though.

"You almost gave that poor lady a stroke," Rowan teased, his arm wrapped around Aelin's shoulders.

She smirked up at him. "Gave you something better, though."

Oh fuck yes, she had.

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #answered prompt #fluff #with sexy jokes #lovely anon

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