#Katie writes
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The Shadowsinger: Eight
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. More angst, PTSD/nightmares, misogyny, threat of physical punishment ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're still at Windhaven, and you can't help that rage that builds by the day.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven
After a week, your nights were full of nightmares that entailed your wings getting clipped, being beaten to a pulp by your father, and (oddly enough) a young Azriel and Cassian getting ripped to shreds by an older Illyrian. Why it had been Cassian AND Azriel, you had no idea. But it didn’t sit well with you as you got up everyday and trained with the other females while Cassian went to different war camps. He never mentioned which one.
You argued with him when he said he would need to go to another camp instead of train you. And since both Rhys and Azriel were busy with their own missions, that meant you wouldn’t train. But Cassian gave you the option to train with the females at Windhaven or to wait for him to come back at the end of the week. You would have said no, had it not been for what you’d seen that first day. How their commander wasn’t even training them, just letting them run around in circles, doing what looked to be endurance training. And maybe a little heavy weight training, if they were lucky. So you decided training with them was better than not training at all. And it would help you as emissary, especially if you could get the girls to start sparring and not just exercising.
When the male commander didn’t even help the girls with their warm up stances, you had your shadows nudge them enough so they corrected it. And then, they actually moved on from their constant loop of motions to sparring. Just like you had hoped. There were five girls today, and then you. You paired with one named Ragna. Her skin was darker than anyone else you’d seen, and she had pointed ears which told you that she was only half Illyrian. Though she had wings. And she was the one that showed the most promise. You were surprised they even let her train if she wasn’t full Illyrian, but then again, neither was Rhys. Though you had a feeling Devlon didn’t have much of a choice with him as a High Lord’s son.
You helped her with her placement, chiding remarks that you remembered Cassian saying to you back at the House. You learned quickly, and it was easy enough to see what she was doing wrong. Two days were just spent in the mirror, Cassian showing you all the ways you made yourself vulnerable. You wondered if these females would ever be shown that. They hadn’t moved past the warm up exercises until earlier in the week when you joined. And Cassian mentioned they should have been training for the past month and a half. They should be far past your training level… or farther than they were. But they didn’t have a trainer that was willing to help them.
So, here you stood, sparring with Ragna. You saw the male, Calder, approach as you let her sweep your feet from under you. You asked her to do it, and wanted to show her the proper technique. “And now you just allowed your opponent a break from standing.” He mocked Ragna.
You glared up at him and stood up, shaking your wings so the dirt would fall off. “She gave herself an advantage.” You snapped. “And executed it perfectly, too.” You said, giving her a small smile before you examined the green Siphon Calder had on his hand. The one and only. Granted, there could be another one if it was exposed in his armor like Cass and Azriel. But it didn’t, Cass already told you the males that had two Siphons. And Calder wasn’t one of them.
“I don’t see how you could know with your back on the floor. Though that’s probably where you spend most of your time. Especially with that bastard that calls himself our Lord Commander.” He scoffed. You cleaned your fists and walked closer to him, your shadows shooting out from you to swirl around his arms in a frenzy. They wouldn’t restrain you from this male as they had done for Cassian.
“You might be careful how you speak about our Lord Commander.” You growled, restraining yourself from hitting him square in the face.
“Fond of the bastard?” He chided. You felt your nails dug into your skin. If he said one more thing…. “I bet you enjoy being in that cabin all alone with him. That’s why he’s allowing you to train. So he can have you with your legs spread-“
He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence. You knocked his jaw with your fist. Just how Cassian taught you to. He stumbled back from it. And then you had your shadows restrain him as he staggered forward, ready to repay the favor. “Speak one more word about it and you’ll find these shadows strangling your neck. And maybe snapping some bones too.” You ground out. Not that you even knew how to do that with your shadows. But Cassian’s told you about how Azriel’s done it before. If he ever bothered to train you, one day you would. For the time being, Calder didn’t know you couldn’t do it. But you’d bet your salary that he knew Azriel could. And that was enough for his eyes to widen.
You backed up, taking a deep breath before you let go of your shadows, watching them return to the comfort of your shoulders.
“Shadowsinger!” You heard a voice call. Not any voice, Devlon’s voice. “Out of the ring, now!”
You whipped your head, noting that he probably watched the entire encounter. You huffed and glared at Calder as you walked towards Delvon. “What?” You said, trying to bury that rage that burned in your chest.
“You know the punishment for laying a hand on your commander without him provoking you?” He asked, his arms crossed on his chest. The look you gave him was answer enough. “For a female, it’s two extra hours of chores.”
“I don’t have chores here. And he isn’t my commander.” You said simply, not taking your eyes off him.
“For males, it’s ten lashings.. which one would you prefer?” He ignored your statement, leaning against the fence of the ring.
“Who says he didn’t provoke me? Because he was insulting-“
“Insults are not provocations. Words are not provocations. Unless he hit you or it was a training exercise, it was without provocation.” He stated. “Lashings or chores?” He asked.
“Neither.” You replied with gritted teeth. He was starting to get on your nerves.
“You know, I wonder what your father would think when he finds out where his little girl ran away to. And a Shadowsinger, too… he’d be pleased to know where she was after all these years.” Devlon said, a small smirk sliding onto his face.
You bristled, not holding back the swallow that forced its way down your throat. The thought of your father knowing you were here terrified you. “He wouldn’t care,” you lied. Your father would be furious… Furious that you were still alive. That you made something of yourself without him.
Before Devlon could call you out for the lie, or for the fear that replaced the rage, Cassian landed beside you.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“I hit Calder and Lord Devlon wants me to do chores because of it.” You answered.
“Or take the lashings. It’s whatever she chooses. Your High Lord is so enthralled to offer them a choice, so I’m letting her choose.” He said. Your High Lord. You didn’t miss the blow.
Cassian looked at you, and you looked up at him, a bucket of shame washing over you as you saw the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the ring. “I’ll handle it.” He said simply and you stumbled after him. You yanked your arm from his hold when you were enough ways away from Devlon, almost to the cabin.
“What are you doing?” You asked, flaring out your wings for balance as he whirled on you.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? I told you to be nice. And you punched him? The one trainer that actually agreed to train the females and you punched him?” He asked, clearly holding in his anger. “Not to mention the stunt you pulled two days ago.” He said.
You almost snickered at the memory. You had your shadows help the females finish their morning chores and you took them out for training yourself. Devlon was furious when he saw you training with the practice weapons. And Cassian wasn’t too happy that you were trying to train them, considering you didn’t know how to use weapons or techniques properly. Let alone teach them.
But you held the snicker at the rage that bristled around him. “He was insulting you. He was calling you a bastard and insinuating that you were training me because I was sleeping with you-“
“I don’t care what he was saying.” He looked around, pulling you towards the cabin at a pace you had to run to keep up with. Once you made it inside, he asked, “Where is all this coming from? You haven’t even shown a drop to anger the past two months. And now it’s practically all I see from you here. What’s wrong?”
You faltered, catching your breath. You went to answer that nothing was wrong, but you stopped short when you sensed another male in the corner of the room. Not only smelled him but felt that familiar tug. The one that slightly decreased during your training here. He was hiding in his own Shadows. “Azriel,” you said, your eyes on him immediately.
Cassian whipped around. “Mother above… Az what are you doing here?” He asked.
“I heard how your introduction with Devlon went, and the incident the other day, and I figured you might be able to use my help.” He said.
“You never come here willingly. Did Rhys send you?” Cassian asked.
“No, I did come here of my own will. Only to help (Y/N).” He said. “My spies are doing their jobs. And I think I should indeed stop brooding in the shadows and help you train. And I won’t leave this time.” He said, only looking at you. Whatever resolve to ignore you seemed to have disappeared. And it didn’t help that bubbling anger inside of you.
“Fine, but you’re taking her to the mountains.” Cassian said.
You whipped your head to Cassian. “What?” You asked.
“You’ve got unbridled rage here for some reason. The better place to train will be away from it. And if Azriel trains you, you’ll need the space while learning about your shadows.” Cassian explained.
“This isn’t because I punched Calder, is it?” You asked.
Azriel stepped out of the shadows, and you saw his head shake as a small side smirk came to his lips. “You punched your commander?” He asked, something that mirrored pride washing over his face. It was gone in a blink.
“He isn’t my commander. And he was being a prick.” You snapped.
“Cassian used to beat his trainer to a pulp sometimes.” He teased. You hadn’t seen this side of him before.
“And I got the lashings because of it. Don’t encourage her. She isn’t helping us at all.” He said.
“No? Did she not just show Calder that she wasn’t going to take his bullshit? Any other male would have done the same thing. Even you.” He said to Cass.
“How do you know it was a fair shot?” You asked.
“My shadows got here long before I did.” Azriel said. “I hate this place, these camps. But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch from a distance.” He said.
“Go pack, you’ll leave when you’re done.” Cassian said, obviously having enough, and nodded towards your room.
“I-“
“Go.” He said. “You’ll be gone for 4 days.”
You held back the urge to roll your eyes and walked up the stairs to pack a bag for the journey. And you vaguely heard them talking about the route and where you would go. You didn’t bother to ask your shadows to listen. You would learn what you needed to soon enough.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the double release! Something special is in store for the next chapter!
Series Masterlist
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#acotar#azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar spoilers#the shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#katie writes
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Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football.
The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan.
But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression.
So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy.
Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan.
He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer.
Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.
After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest.
Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes.
He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger.
He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.
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no no you don’t understand I don’t want to write this fic idea. i don’t even necessarily want to read it per se. i just want to put it in my mouth and thrash my head around like an an excited dog with a chew toy
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i could go on and on and on by jovenshires (on ao3) for @hoohoobeanie
night falls. courtney and spencer come home.
(i'll spare you all the sappy stuff - happy birthday, kit 🖤)
#spourtney#rpf#shipping#fic#katie writes#video*#mine*#kit#hoohoobeanie#i hope you enjoy bestie happy birthday <3<3<3<3#fic*
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It's All About You, Jamie
He shouldn’t have looked.
Jamie knew he shouldn’t have looked.
Whatever papers spilled out of the folder when he accidentally kicked it off of Roy’s coffee table, he shouldn’t have looked at them. They’re Roy’s not his; he was just trying to use his toes to scratch his itchy calf.
But he did look.
And looking got him to here: sitting on the living room carpet, staring at Roy's contract renewal for AFC Richmond.
Roy’s contract renewal, promising him a bonus worth close to a third of Jamie’s annual salary, if they make it back to the FA Cup finals. Double that, if they win.
Of course.
It makes sense that Roy would make extra money if he coaches a winning team. And it makes sense that Roy would want them to win, so he can make the extra money.
Which means that he needs Jamie in top shape.
Jamie stares at the paper in his hand, and the last few months sharpen into perfect clarity.
I could train you. But only if you fucking mean it.
You’re not on fucking holiday from training.
Whistle.
Not the week for your Mister Fucking Humble, great teammate bullshit.
Wanna grab a beer later?
All the progress they’d made – the progress Jamie thought they’d made, anyway – was this why? Did Roy just take an investment in him as … an investment?
It makes sense.
Roy started training him so he’d be a better player. So they’ll win.
Roy tracked him down in Manchester so he’d be at his mental best. So they’ll win.
Roy invited him for a beer so he’d only have one. So they’ll win.
Roy let Jamie move into his house so he could keep an eye on his schedule. So they’ll win.
Roy cooks his meals so he’ll stay on his meal plan. So they’’ll win.
Roy kisses him and … it’s so Jamie won’t go out and find someone else. So they’ll win.
All of it, every single thing that’s happened between him and Roy, Roy’s done it so they’ll win.
And Jamie?
Jamie fell in love.
Read the rest on ao3 here!
#royjamie#ted lasso#roy kent#jamie tartt#roy x jamie#whumptober#whumptober 2023#no. 2#fic#katie writes#kw23
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Forever
Pairing:- Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Vampire AU
Summary:- Bucky has spent a century without you, now that he has finally found you he is afraid to lose you. Will you be willing to spend forever with him, to become a creature of the night?
Word Count:- 1211 (I really tried to make this shorter but it ran away from me)
Warnings:- Explicit Sexual content. Vampire AU. Vampire Bucky. Unprotected Sex (Practice safe sex) blood drinking - (vampires), hints of self-doubt. There are some feels in this one possibly.
A/N:- 18+ For the @the-slumberparty Warm Up Drabble. I got the word Vampire. I hope you enjoy it, I did try and keep it short and sweet but it ended up going over a thousand words. No beta so some mistakes may have slipped through. Title banner is by me. Other banners is by @maysdigitalarts Divider is by @firefly-graphics
He should have known one sip would never have been enough the first time he met you.
Not when the sweet wine of your blood tasted as divine on his tongue as it did. A golden nectar of captured sunlight, summer fruits, and the things he had longed for in the long, dark night.
One taste and you intoxicated him. One taste and you became his addiction. His craving, until all he could think about, was devouring you in all ways.
In the century he had lived, he had tasted no one quite like you, never been captivated by such a creature. It went beyond the mere taste of your blood, of how the scent of a summer’s day clung to your skin. Making him dream of days he had long since forgotten about. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he had pictured a summer’s day, dreamed of the sun. Except when lying next to you, your blood on his tongue, your scent surrounding him and the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat as you slept, he dreamed. He remembered. And he missed.
It wasn’t often he allowed himself to dwell on such memories, on forgotten things. Not when the night had brought him to you.
It wasn’t just your blood, though, that had him so captivated. You were beautiful. Your smile could light up a room, and your eyes glistened when the light caught them. You kept him on your toes, with your charm and quick wit, and your mind was always moving, learning, willing to explore.
And fuck did you want to explore.
You yearned for adventure; your soul burned for it as hot as the sun burned in the sky.
Your fearlessness had you going toe to toe with him at his worst, until he fucked you senseless, and you clawed at his back, urging him on, feeding him your blood and taking his own as you mewled with pleasure.
Bucky feared the day he would lose you. Feared the day that would fast approach. Time for a mortal was over in a blink of an eye, and he couldn’t imagine living the centuries without you now that he had met you. The endless cycle without you by his side, not now that he had found you, but was it his right to ask you to give up the world of the sun? The summer days. Possible children.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re brooding so much?” You asked, standing in the doorway of the beach house. The sound of the waves crashing along the shore carried through the night sky as the stars glistened above them.
It wasn’t often that he spent time at this property. A vampire having a home on the beach was asking for trouble, but it was winter, and you loved the beach even in the cold, so the two of you would make do for another week before you moved to a more secure house that offered more shelter for him.
Bucky turned towards you, noting the white lace teddy you were wearing. It shaped your body perfectly, and his gaze followed the shape of your body, the curve of your breasts. He could see the peak of your nipples.
“I’m thinking of the future.” He answered honestly because you knew him well enough to catch him out in a lie.
“You know you could always just ask me, rather than brooding about the future.” You breathed.
“What right do I have to ask?” he asked, brow creasing together.
You moved towards him, stepping outside onto the decking until you were standing right in front of him, before straddling him in his seat.
“Ask me the question, Bucky.” You whispered. He could hear the steady beat of your heart. The confidence you projected filled him with hope. But he had long since given up on hope. Hope wasn’t for a creature such as him.
“Will you stay with me? As a Vampire?”
One beat. Two beats. Three beats.
“I’m yours. Now and forever, Bucky. In whatever form that takes, in this life or the next. Always.”
Bucky stilled. Uncertain, he had heard you right.
You smiled at him. “Yes Bucky. As a Vampire.”
The weight of your gaze pressed along his skin, leaving scorch marks in their wake. Emotions swelled inside of him, and he couldn’t hold himself back from taking you there and then. Not to turn you, but to show you just how fucking happy you had made him.
It was easy enough to part your legs further, slip his robe aside. His cock already hard, the scent of your arousal already filling his nose.
You moved to lower yourself onto his cock, knowing what you both needed, taking him inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched around his girth before you clenched tightly, and he groaned at the sensation.
Bucky swallowed slowly, one hand brushing the strap of your teddy down your shoulder. Neither of you moved as your gazes met. Your heartbeat loudly, awaking the beast inside of him.
Heat enveloped him, and he strained against the urge to thrust hard and fast in and out of you.
“Bucky, fuck me hard and fast. Take me. Make me yours.”
Whispered words that snapped his control just enough to allow his vampiric nature to surge into the front seat.
His hips moved, his cock sliding out almost to the tip before he thrust hard and fast back into you. Your movements matching his as you rocked against him, hips swivelling ever so slightly, that he almost came right there and then.
A merciless, relentless rhythm of bodies moved against each other. A hum vibrated through his body. Fangs descended, and he bit down into your shoulder. The moan that escaped your lips vibrated through him, as he drank your blood, and took the substance he craved so much.
Fuck, did he love you.
Your own teeth scraped his bare shoulder, not sharp enough to pierce his own flesh, but sharp enough to give him a jolt of pleasure.
He held you tight as he drank and thrust hard and fast. Your wetness coated your thighs, and the hot walls engulfed him, clenched and pulsed with every stroke of his cock.
Flushed together, your arms wrapped around him tightly, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him shiver at the sharp pain that sent a current of electric shocks through his body.
Muscles at the base of his cock tightened, and the peak of both of your releases rushed through them with one last thrust.
His climax ripped through him. Muscles trembled as he held you, his pulse quickening. You shuddered, mouth open and a low moan came from your lips, making his cock pulse even more as the sound tickled his senses.
The noises you made were fucking delightful to hear.
Satisfied and full, his fangs retracted, and he gave a slow lick of the wound, allowing his saliva to heal the wound quicker than it would have on its own,, as you snuggled into the side of neck.
“When?” You asked.
“Soon. You’ll enjoy the things you won’t be able to do again.”
“As long as I’m with you, Bucky. Nothing else will matter.”
#writer warm up#navy and roo sleepover#Bucky Barnes x reader#Bucky Barnes x Female Reader#Bucky Barnes smut#Bucky Barnes Vampire AU#Katie Writes
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alriiight so remember how one and a half years ago i said id do a series on skz as romantic tropes, inspired by @jinniebit's post? surprise, i am actually still working on it! i have not forgotten! i just am very slow.
but since ive been working on the enemies to lovers!minho fic over the last couple of days and i actually like where it is going, i figured id prove that i didnt vanish into the void give you a sneak peak.
i wont give you context because i dont want to spoil the rest of the story but i think it works without context anyways.
so here you go.
“I’m just saying, he has a car, he literally offered to take us, why the hell would you not take that offer?”
Jisung and you are arguing in the kitchen. Chan and Changbin are throwing a party at their place and both you two and Minho are invited. It already bugs you to have to spend the evening around him, but Minho offered to drive and while you realise that that is just way too convenient to not take up, it is also going against every ounce of your being to accept that.
“I’ll walk, it’s fine,” you shrug and return your attention to the dishes you’re currently scrubbing, maybe a bit more vigorously than necessary.
“Walk? To the other side of town?!”
You have to give it to him; the place is kind of far away.
“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”
You know he won’t take that as an answer, he knows that you hate public transport. And sure enough, you’re staring at a plate, when Jisung’s face slowly pushes into your field of vision.
“Public transport. You.”
You shrug, “sure. Can’t be that bad, huh?”
“Look at me.”
You roll your eyes, but Jisung is nothing if not stubborn, so you turn to the left where he is still staring at you.
“You are being unreasonable. We both know you can’t walk there, and you hate buses, so why on earth would you not take the offer of someone driving?”
You hold his stare. You can be just as stubborn as he is, and it already annoys you that Minho will be there at all – you’re not going to drive there with him as well.
“I just don’t like him, that’s all.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not asking you to marry him, am I? You can even sit in the back, and you don’t have to say a single word.”
“I hate sitting in the back, though. And I don’t like when other people drive,” you add a bit quieter, and return to your dishes. It’s not even a lie.
Jisung sighs and pats you on the shoulder.
“So that’s it. You don’t feel safe in other people’s cars, yeah?”
That’s only one part of the problem, but it sounds reasonable enough to just go with this version, so you nod.
“That’s alright, I don’t know a safer driver than Minho. Seriously,” he adds when he realises that you’re not convinced, “I don’t feel great with a lot of drivers either, but he really pays attention and doesn’t speed and all that. And I’m with you, I can make a fuss about him having to be really careful if you don’t want to say anything.”
He playfully nudges you, and it does make you smile a bit. You suddenly feel bad that you’re being so difficult. Sure, you don’t like Minho, but Jisung does for some reason and you’re being a pain about it. So, you give in. It can’t be that bad.
***
And to your surprise, it really isn’t that bad at all. Jisung nudges you toward the passenger seat and goes to sit in the back, and you try and be a decent person and greet Minho when you climb onto the seat. He watches you get in with his attentive eyes – you keep wondering what they remind you of – and nods in return, a small greeting back.
Jisung starts talking as soon as he closes the door, and you know it is to not make you feel uneasy next to Minho. You appreciate it, but it makes you feel even worse about your behaviour earlier. When Minho starts the car, you clench your fists in anticipation, focusing on the dull pressure of your nail into the skin of your palms, to not focus on the feeling in your stomach. You feel Minho’s eyes on you when you stop at a traffic light, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but the car starts more smoothly when the light goes green.
Somewhere along the drive, you unclench your fingers and run them over the crescents your nails left behind. Jisung was right, you muse, Minho does drive safer than anyone you’ve ever driven with. He eyes you at stop signs and traffic lights, and just before you go around the last corner into the street Chan and Changbin live in, you realise what his eyes feel like. There is a feline attentiveness to them, calmly and quietly observing the people around him. Somehow, it makes you feel even worse about the fuss you made. What it must have looked like from the outside when you refused to shake his hand. You feel like a fool.
The door to the passenger side opens and shakes you out of your thoughts. You look up, and sure enough, Minho is holding the door, one hand extended – just like he did in the kitchen. Your eyes jump back and forth between his hand and his face. There is something in his eyes, something very well concealed – and when it changes to a satisfied sparkle as you grab his hand, you realise it was insecurity.
***
tag list: @rachalixie (i did promise), @chvnnie (no idea if you are still interested but im not gonna leave you out), @jinniebit (because youre the reason this series exists at all honestly) and @lurkmethist (did u see what i did here amethyst i think im hilarious hehe - but i promised id tag u still) ALSO @an0ther-us3r (bc u liked the other snippet so much maybe u wanna read this too?)
#katies wips#stray kids#skz#enemies to lovers!minho#stray kids fanfic#lee know fanfic#skz as romantic tropes#i promise there will be more#seriously i am getting somewhere#katie writes
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Hi hello happy #alearcrystweek for Day 1 I present to thee "hey Alcryst let's go run around in the rain for the hell of it" featuring some smoochies
#katie writes#alearcrystweek#alearcryst#alear#alcryst#hi hi hi im about to be so annoying#as of writing i have 6/7 prompts done so i almost got something for everything ehehehehe#but yeah with the week running off UTC. IT IS HERE HEHEHE
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snippet from my Normal People wolfstar au
“I have something to tell you,” Remus started.
Sirius grinned at him, “Oh fuck it, all is forgiven. Thank you for the flowers by the way. A bit queer but sometimes stereotypes are real. I nearly swooned when I saw them.” He still had a cheeky smile on his face.
Remus couldn’t bring himself to grin back. There was a terrible pressure behind his chest. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It wasn’t when it all boiled down to it, Remus reasoned, it wasn’t as if he and Sirius could actually attend the formal together.
But, if that was the case, why was his heart rattling like a rabid beast in a cage? Why was his breathing so shallow?
It didn’t matter. It was a stupid dance that he didn’t even want to attend.
And yet, Remus felt as if whatever he said next was somehow very very important.
Depending on which way he took a step, he felt as if his life could be rapidly catapulted into two different directions. He stood at the threshold of 12 Grimmauld Place, straddling his future with indecision. Remus didn’t move.
Sirius seemed to sense some sort of unease and his smile slid off his face, “What? What is it?” He ushered Remus inside, concern clear on his face and Remus felt sick.
He was horrible. This was horrible. He hadn’t wanted to come in.
They sat down at the spotless kitchen island, like they had a million times before to do homework, to share snacks, to get wrapped up in eachother.
Sirius placed a glass of water in front of him, “Remus, you look ghastly. Are you ill?” Remus didn’t touch the cup, hating himself all the more.
“I don’t think I’m sorry for what you need me to be sorry for.”
Sirius Black was a very expressive person, he always had been. Most people didn’t know this, because he could display a mask of indifference in a second. But, Remus had grown to know all his quirks over the course of just a few months- how he bit his lip when he was concerned, how he wrinkled his nose when he was embarrassed, how he fluttered his eyes when he was about to come.
For a singular second his face was naked to Remus. A flash of confusion, a flicker of fear, a modicum of sorrow and then blank. Nothing. Every emotion was clear and vivid on his face before he composed himself.
“What do you mean?” Sirius’s voice was different now, cooler. It was like he could sense what was about to happen. He took a physical step back, out of Remus’s space, out of his orbit.
Remus’s throat constricted and he felt himself falling aimlessly over the line to a different future. One without Sirius and his brightness and brashness to bask in.
“I’m going with Flo Bagman to the formal. I’m sorry, I just thought you should know.”
#certain unlikely positions#wolfstar#Katie writes#hp#fic snippet#sirius black#Remus Lupin#normal people au
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The Shadowsinger: Seven
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Mentions of wing clipping, misogyny, threat of death, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your time to act as emissary has come as Rhys needs you and Cassian in Windhaven.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six
Windhaven was a lot colder than you remembered. You must have forgot how cold Illyria was, even if it was your home for the first 120 years of your life. Regadless, you didn’t let it show as you followed Cassian over to where Lord Devlon was standing over the camp. You could see the cabins, the tents, the training rings… it looked so similar to Valorworth that you almost stumbled over your feet. But you kept your stoic mask on, making sure to look unimpressed as you made your way over to them.
“Cassian..” Devlon trailed off, scowling as he saw you. “Who is this?” He asked, eyes trailing over your shadows and to your wings. “A pet of Azriel?” He asked, already assuming your worth.
“Another Shadowsinger.” Cassian said with a smirk on his face. “This is (Y/N). She’s going to be emissary from the Night Court to the Illyrian camps, to ensure the females are receiving proper training.” He said.
If he was surprised by another Shadowsinger being in his midst, he didn’t show it. “Are you on your cycle?” He asked, ignoring the fact that you were an emissary and should be treated with respect. You rolled your eyes. The Illyrian males and their ways… you were going to have to get used to it again.
“No, but it wouldn’t matter if I was.” You said. “We don’t taint objects when we bleed, just as you don’t.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. Not that any female would want to even think about fighting while on their cycle. Most times it was too painful to leave the bed. In your experience. Cauldron, you had your cycle just before you were released from Under the Mountain and Amarantha was no sympathizer when you needed the time in your chambers. Alone. To writhe in pain.
“That is our way, and if you are to be an emissary to us, you’ll have to respect it.” He said.
“Regardless, I am not. If you are so concerned, have your blacksmith create separate weapons for the females to use.” You stated, narrowing your eyes at him. It was a good idea, one that you might just use your salary to fund. Rhys funded practically everything else for you anyway.
Cassian cleared his throat before he could respond. “We’ll be staying in Rhys’s cabin, is it occupied?” He asked and Devlon growled out a yes.
“You think as a camp Lord, you’d be happier to see your Lord Commander.” You snapped and crossed your arms. “I’m also pretty sure he could snap your neck, seeing as you’ve only got 2 Siphons, if he wanted to, so why don’t you show him any respect?”
Devlon stepped towards you. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll make sure you can’t even step foot in this camp or another one ever again. No matter what the High Lord wants to call you.” He growled. “I don’t see any Siphons on you, anyway.”
“That’s because you males don’t allow females to have them. But I can assure you, my shadows will do the work for me just as easily.” You said, not backing down from his stare. He wasn’t much shorter than Rhys or Azriel, but he was definitely taller than you.
“Okay… this is a lovely first meeting. Get your males out of the cabin. We’re going to take a look around.” Cassian said and looked at you nodding towards the camp. “I expect it to be ready in an hour.” He said before starting to walk down the hill. You stared at Devlon before following Cassian.
“I don’t know how you put up with that.” You said.
“He trained me, and as much of a pain as he is, he’s the most willing to change the ways of his army to what we want.” He said. “As fun as that was to watch, I suggest not threatening to snap his neck again. You want to be on his good side. Especially as a female.” He said.
Something about being back in an Illyrian camp made your blood boil. That simmering rage was bubbling to the surface. Maybe because last time you were at one, it was for Amarantha to ensure her “allies” were truly telling her everything. Since that was the camp that turned you in, you had no problem listening to their secrets. Until you saw what she did to them. And the children. Fallen wings flashed through your mind, and you had to shake your head to come back to the present.
Your temper was already high and Devlon didn’t help. Cassian telling you that you needed to ‘play nice’ because you were a female wasn’t making you any less agitated.
“If you can’t handle this, you can-“ he started when you marched past him.
“Handle this?” You growled and whipped around towards him. “Do you know what it’s like to be a female in an Illyrian camp? Cause it’s a lot worse than being a bastard whose found brother is a High Lord.” You seethed, shadows whirling around your body as if to restrain you from pouncing on him. “You get seven Siphons. You get to participate in the Blood Rite and call yourself Carynthain. You get to train. You get to make decisions without having your wings threatened.” You spat, finally looking up at him. You could see the surprise in his eyes. The small amount of hurt that he let show. You immediately regretted snapping at him. You went to apologize but he shook his head.
“You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like.” Cassian simply said. “But you haven’t been here in a long time. Nor have you been to this camp. And I’m not saying it’s much better, but these males are willing to change for us. Change their traditions for a better army. If that means meeting them in the middle, or working with them with the little they give, then we do it. Because we can’t force them to change their ways. We’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. But with your help, we’ll get there. And it won’t help anything if you threaten every male you run into. Especially if they haven’t seen what you’re capable of.” He said.
You bit the inside of your lip, nodding your head. “I didn’t mean to call you a bastard.” You admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“I am one. No point in denying it.” He said and winked. “Come on, let me show you around.” He said and walked in front of you. Normally, he would sling his arm over your shoulder. But that would make the Illyrians mock you further, and he knew that wouldn’t help your already rising temper. You hadn’t shown it to him yet. He wondered if Rhys had ever seen you so riled. He didn’t even know you had it in you.
Then again, you were in a place that reminded you of a world of hurt and pain. A place that gave you no respect… other than maybe that you could provide a male child for the Illyrians one day. But even then, that wasn’t respect.
So he didn’t let it get to him. He knew what these camps did to females. And he knew that Valorworth in particular would be a hard one to crack. They still had problems with the males clipping females’ wings. And even more of a problem with getting the girls to train out of fear they wouldn’t be accepted by their mate or would be “sullied” because they chose to fight. While in Windhaven, you would be training with Cassian. Rhys didn’t want you to train with the other females yet, not unless you wanted to… And you made it clear the day before you didn’t want to. Not yet, at least.
“Have you ever tried a Siphon?” He asked curiously as you walked towards the training rings.
“You’re kidding, right? The day the Cauldron boils over is the day they’ll allow a female to even try ON a Siphon. Besides, I don’t even think I have killing power to begin with.” Your said.
“Have you ever tried?” He repeated and smirked when you shook your head. “You know, there have been female Illyrian warriors before. Not many, and not in hundreds of years, but it’s happened before.” He said.
You looked at him skeptically. “I’ve never heard of an Illyrian female warrior. Not that fought among males.” You said. You remembered stories of the Valkyries. You even thought that Cassian might have known them, with how old he was. Rhys, Az, and him all fought in the war. The Valkyries all died then… That was the closest you heard of a female fighting in the ranks of Illyrian males.
“Have Clotho pull out books on the Erthican age, focusing on Illyria.” He said and smirked. “I think you’ll be surprised.”
He didn’t say anything else when he approached the training ring. You saw some females training, only four, with a male who looked either displeased to be training them, or displeased with their positions. Probably both considering a) he was a male and b) their fighting posture was horrible. You were better when you started two weeks ago. But you had hunting experience. And experience under Amarantha. So you couldn’t judge them. Not when they were trying. And they seemed to want to be there. The male, however, did not.
“This is what they call training?” You whispered to Cassian.
“This is the best we can get right now. That’s why you’re here.” He said. “You want to show these males how far a female can come with two weeks of training?” He asked and opened the gate to an empty training ring. You were aware of the eyes suddenly upon you.
“I’m not sure they’ll be impressed.” You said and shifted on your feet, but kept your back straight and your head high. You would not cower in front of these males. Never again.
“Trust me, they will.” He said and nodded as he motioned for you to hand him your coat. You slipped it off and set it on a rock instead. Anything that showed the males you and Cassian were more than a trainer and his trainee would show you as weak.
The cold air almost made you shiver but you quickly got into position with Cassian to start the warm up stretches. It took no time for you both to start sparring, Cassian reminding you to pull your left foot in closer, or to pick up your left shoulder. Or to not flare out your wings so much. All gentle, small reminders, and nothing to mock you. Eventually, you grabbed the practice swords, practicing with those. You went through the eight point star, the sweeps, blocks, and parries that would all be vital to know in a fight. When you were done, you were sweating in your leathers. You were glad when the cool winter breeze glided across your skin. Your shadows had calmed during your training, trailing on the ground. And your temper wasn’t boiling anymore. It was buried deep inside, where it would stay for as long as you could keep it. Getting angry at Cassian, or any of the other Illyrian males, would only show them your weaknesses. And you wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with Cass, but not the others.
You looked back towards the camp, seeing a group of males that had been watching you. You couldn’t hear what they said, but you cast your shadows out with a simple wave of the hand. They scattered across the ground, then came back an instant later. “Cassian goes easy on her” “She couldn’t do that with a real sword” “She can’t take him down”. All the whispers that came back. You looked at Cassian and narrowed your eyes.
“I want to spar for real.” You said, low enough that only he could hear it. “No swords, and no pads.” You said. “And none of my shadows helping me… let me show them what I can do. And don’t hold back.” You said.
Cassian glanced at them and then back at you, frowning a bit. “That’s not a good idea. We’re still at the beginning of your training. But if it were to go wrong, it would have the opposite effect.” He said.
“Cassian-“
“I’m still your commander. No matter what, it’s important for me not to push you. And this would be pushing.” He said. “Come on, let’s go to the cabin. It’s been two hours and we need to clean up before going through the rest of the camp.” He said, pausing when you stood your ground. “(Y/N)… we’re here for two weeks. At the end of that, I’ll fight you for real, okay?” He asked. Cassian didn’t like pulling rank, but if that would be what got you to back down, he might just have to do that.
You thought for a moment and then nodded. “I think that would be a good Solstice present.” You joked and grabbed your coat, not daring to put it on as you were still sweating. You needed these leathers off you. And a bath. Now.
You let your shadows rest around your shoulders and arms as you walked past the Illyrian males, and some females, towards the cabin. “This is Rhys’s cabin?” You asked.
“His mother’s actually. It was, at least… This is where Rhys, Az, and I grew up… this whole camp is… but this cabin is where she raised us. And where we got into Mother knows what when we were young.” He said and smiled fondly. It was the same smile that came to your face when you thought about Sirona, Igna, or Oran. Something nostalgic and filled with loss, but also happiness.
“You’d give anything to go back to those days for just a few moments.” You suggested. “I know the feeling… If I could visit my home near the northern mountains again… with my family. Or when my mother was still alive… I would.” You said and looked at the cabin.
“Come on, let’s wash up and then I can show you the rest of the camp.” He said and gave you a small smile before opening the door.
Cassian showed you around the rest of the camp after you’d taken a bath and changed into some warmer clothes for the Illyrian winter night. The Winter Solstice was three weeks away, and you knew that it would only get colder from here.
You wore the coat that Mor gave you (it brought the perfect amount of warmth without making you sweat under it) as Cassian led you to the female cabins. The ones that housed the females that were without husbands, mates, or males that would take care of them. You saw the four that were training earlier. They were doing housework. They didn’t seem too much older than you were when you left Valorworth. If you were to be offered a chance to train back then… you weren’t even sure if you would have taken it. Your father certainly would not have allowed it.
And then he showed you the few shops they had in town. About five, and one of them was the blacksmith. Which he said he wanted to visit quickly. You looked around and decided to go to the tailor shop you noticed, tucking in your wings as you entered the shop. “Hi,” you said as you saw a man at the small table at the back. He seemed to be a seasoned warrior, and now you guessed he ran this shop since a war wasn’t raging at the moment. Still, something of him reminded you of your father, so you stayed on edge. As you would with every male in this camp other than Cassian. “Do you have any gloves? I seem to have forgotten mine.” You said as you looked around.
“I have wool lined or leather,” his voice was gruff.
“Leather would be best,” you said as you approached the table.
“Emerie,” he called to the back. “Grab the female gloves… 5 copper marks,” he said as he turned back to you.
“5? They should be worth 3,” you said and he rose his eyebrows, shocked that you suggested otherwise.
“5, or you can find another tailor at this camp who will sell them to you.” He growled. He obviously didn’t like that a female was trying to barter with him.
You held in a sigh and pulled out the marks, setting them on the table. You didn’t have it in you to fight with an old male today. Certainly not when he was so easily agitated by a female.
“Here you go, father,” the female said, coming out from the back and setting the pair of gloves down. Your eyes immediately focused on her wings. The small amount of faelight showed scars that could only mean one thing. Her wings were clipped. And by the looks of it, not by a healer. You looked down at the gloves and reached out for them, but stopped when the man put his hands on top of them.
“I haven’t seen you around here… what camp are you from?” He asked. The female named Emerie only stayed standing behind her father. Not in a scared, cowering way, but curious.
“Technically, Valorworth. But I live down south, in- Hewn City now.” You said, remembering how Velaris was to be kept a secret from anyone you encountered outside the city.
“Ahh… the Court of Nightmares. How does an Illyrian female Shadowsinger end up there?” He asked, his hand unmoving upon the gloves.
You managed a glance to your shadows, frowning at his tone. “I know the right males.” You said and reached down, snatching the gloves from his hand.
“I’m (Y/N).” You said and offered a small smile to Emerie. “I’ll be here for two weeks with Cassian,” you said, assuming everyone in the camp knew who he was. Being the commander of the Night Court’s army and all.
Emerie didn’t reply as her father scowled, clearly not liking that you were ignoring him. You smiled at her again before turning around. “Thanks for the gloves.” You said and walked out the door.
A/N: And now we are in Windhaven! Why do we think reader is so on edge?
Series Masterlist
Join the taglist here
Tagging (if you are not being tagged properly, please send me a message, I will fix it as soon as I can!):
@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadow139 @mybestfriendmademe @atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86 @mariahoedt @6v6babycheese @secretsthathauntus @krowiathemythologynerd @fightmedraco @he6rtshaker @kayla-rose15 @aelincaddel @mfri06 @hauntedstudentobservationus @brieflyclassymortal
#acotar#azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar spoilers#the shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#katie writes
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Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level.
But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie.
Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them.
Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms.
Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face.
And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery.
How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away.
As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that?
He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine.
But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated.
But maybe he’ll always be the fool.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#katie writes#as always#cross posted on twitter#also i'm so sorry in advance#not a happy ending#i live for angst
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when you accidentally type 'corgially' instead of 'cordially'
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the official iwks lore dump post
okay this is long-overdue but basically both @spencersagnew and @hoohoobeanie asked me to do a little lore dump for if we keep score and here it is!! this is not everything by far (some of what's missing will be covered in future fics and some im simply forgetting) but this is the basics for all the stuff i felt like i couldn't include but i had in my brain - ages, mascots for different schools, etc
THE AGES OF THE MAIN CAST:
st charles:
SENIORS: spencer, damien, shayne, brennan
JUNIORS: alex t, jeremy, patrick, ify
SOPHOMORES: rock and tim
FRESHMAN: marcus
our lady of perpetual sorrow:
SENIORS: tommy, keith, garrett
JUNIORS: alex a, luke, duran
SOPHOMORES: andre and greg
FRESHMEN: chanse, josh, peter
THE AGES OF THE MINOR CAST:
holy trinity (based on the try guys and second try):
SENIORS: zach (captain), keith (vc), kwesi, nick
JUNIORS: johnny, hughie, alex, jared
SOPHOMORES: miles and jonathan
FRESHMEN: jack
aquinas academy (based on dropout tv):
SENIORS: sam (captain), brennan (vc), josh, murph
JUNIORS: zac, grant, trapp
SOPHOMORES: raph and tao
FRESHMEN: lou and jacob
st. george's (based on mythical):
SENIORS: josh (captain), david hill (vc), carney, jordan, lucas
JUNIORS: chase, davin, matt lieb, pasley, zack
SOPHOMORES: trevor
MASCOTS:
st charles: cheetahs (chosen because it alliteratively went with st charles)
our lady of perpetual sorrow: pirates (chosen because it alliteratively went with perpetual)
holy trinity: triceratops (i meannn. when they have a mascot already i simply must)
aquinas: spoonbills (lil inside joke for brennan lee mulligan's love of birds and that one game changer ep where sam tortured brennan with birds)
st. george's: roosters (once again i feel like i had to. i almost went with 'beasts' but i think roosters makes more sense)
MOTTOS:
st charles: Dirige Nos In Fide - Guide Us In Faith. (i knew this one from the very start because i had the speech ian gives him in my head. where spencer has faith in his team and that's why ian chose him to lead them. guide us in faith!!!)
our lady of perpetual sorrow: Est Gaudium in Dolore - There is Joy in Pain. (honestly this is tommy bowe's personal motto to me. no but i picked it bc tommy persevered despite all that he suffered
holy trinity: Conare Iterum Conare - Try Try Again. (this one is pretty on the nose BUT they're all about giving it their best shot even when they're the underdogs!! when they get knocked down they get up again! ain't nothing gonna bring us down!)
aquinas: Virtus in Culpa - Strength in Fault (their students are really, really intelligent and like. the best of the best. but that's because aquinas, though it's a school for academic excellence, is very relaxed with consequences for failure. like there's a lot of support for students who are struggling academically or behaviorally. we are only as strong as our faults!!)
st. george's: Esto Tuus Optimus - Be Your Best Self (once again they had it right there. be your mythical best!)
WHY I CHOSE THE SCHOOL NAMES:
(ive posted this before but im making this comprehensive!)
st. charles’ academy for boys: this is entirely based on spencer’s first name actually being charles LNDKNFLKNK like i knew i wanted to go with an all-boys school (as opposed to olops which is actually a co-ed school!) and i thought. “this is kinda funny.” and it was!
our lady of perpetual sorrow: this is actually - and i Did Not Know This - the catholic school from suite life of zack and cody SDFGHJK which means one of two things: 1. either i heard it there and it stuck in my brain and i didn’t realize OR 2. i just have the same brain cell as the suite life writers. i have no idea. but i chose that name bc, growing up in catholic school, i heard So Many ‘our lady of ___’ school names and i thought tommy, known Mental Illness actor, would enjoy 'perpetual sorrow’ as a nod to that knfkfnfk
holy trinity preparatory school: ah the easiest one tbh!! holy trinity because TRI. TRI bc there’s three of them and also it sounds like TRY. try guys! no more thought to it than that tbh.
aquinas academy: i went into it in more detail here, but basically st. thomas aquinas is the patron saint of college students - thus college humor, thus dropout!!
st. george: this one was a little more deep-cut!! i almost went with st. martha, the patron saint of the culinary arts, but i wanted their patron to encapsulate more of the crew rather than just the kitchen. even if it was josh’s world and we were all living in it. but basically, st. george is the patron saint of knights, cavalry, and armourers. he’s frequently depicted as slaying dragons and was often compared to many mythic heroes. therefore, you can consider st. george your official patron saint of mythicality!
SOME FUN FACTS THAT DIDN'T MAKE THE CUT:
damien is in the st. charles' choir which is why spencer plays guitar for them; he also does the school plays. he's a busy boy!
patrick is an altar boy and that's how he stole the communion wine
patrick and jeremy almost kissed when they got drunk off the communion wine and have NEVER talked about it
shayne is in the running to be valedictorian
chanse has a crush on tommy (and who can blame him.)
jackie does not do soccer and although she was at most of the games in iwks did NOT know what was going on
jackie also goes to public school bc i love her so she gets to win <3
i've mentioned this before but yes amanda and angela were on the same team in high school and were best friends (and..... you know. a little more than that maybe.)
tim is rock's calc tutor and it's not going well
if spencer had any input he would push for jeremy to be the next vc because he just has a soft spot for the guy and he thinks it would do him some good. but jeremy would rather die than be in charge of anything so <3
alex's hello kitty bandaids have nothing to do with like a ravenous love of hello kitty or anything - frankly they bought them because he thought they were cute and pink and sparkly. he didn't even realize they were hello kitty but that just makes them even better. they make All the players wear them when they can.
literally no one has told marcus who ian is so when he shows up at that one party he's just like. haha! who tf is this guy :) just smiling and nodding as if he knows what's going on but EXTREMELY confused by the stranger in jeremy's house
ify and patrick were buds before either of them met jeremy
brennan took four years of latin as we know, but what you don't know is that tommy took four years of french and damien took four years of german! (spencer took the minimum requirement of spanish and that's it LKDNKNFLFKN)
a lot of the team member's relationship with religion fluctuates but ian specifically is like. agnostic-christian. where he's like "idk what's out there but the Idea of christianity is comforting." he's not sure what he thinks about god but he's cool with praying does this make sense
tommy has spencer in his phone as "charles" forever and ever bc he said so. what is spencer gonna do. stop him?
despite the ban on interactions between the two teams damien and keith have been buds/texting each other for years. they are buds to ME.
chanse is like. en route to play professionally. he's being scouted like right now. he wanted to go to like a Specialized sports high school but his parents insisted on keeping him in catholic school
aaand trevor is putting in a transfer request as we speak LKSNDLK
okay i think that's it for now as far as lore goes. i hope you all enjoy!!
#iwks#fic#katie writes#spommy#personal#mine*#i believe in queue! spring break!#rpf#shut your pie hole katie
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Chenford + 40. “I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.”
"It's fine, Tim. I'm fine." Lucy looks up and blinks several times before she focuses on his face.
"I never said you weren't. But it's 1:30 in the morning, and you haven't let that couch since dinner."
"I have so!"
"Getting up for coffee at 9 p.m. doesn't count."
"There's only like 200 pages left. I'm over halfway; I'll come to bed when I finish."
"Lucy. That's the entire book. In one night."
"It's really good."
"And it will be really good tomorrow too."
Lucy flips a few pages ahead. "Fine. I'll just finish this chapter."
"Fine." Tim takes a couple steps closer. "Sit up."
"What?"
"Sit up. I'll sit with you, and we'll go to bed together."
"I don't need a babysitter."
"I know. But our bed is better with you in it." Lucy's expression softens as she leans forward enough for him to slide in behind her. He wraps an arm around her chest as she settles back into his side and picks her book up from her lap.
It's not even two pages later that Tim is making good on his promise. The book drops back to Lucy's chest and her breathing evens out. Tim takes it gently and slides a receipt from the coffee table between the pages.
He carries Lucy down the hall, tucked against his chest. After he lays her down, he pulls her socks off, knowing she'll whine about her feet being too warm if they stay on all night. When he climbs into bed beside her, pulling the covers over them both, she shifts around until her body is pressed back against his.
Again, he wraps am arm around her torso, pulling her close. His eyes are already drooping, but he finds the top of her head anyway, pressing his face into her hair and dropping a kiss there.
She's going to complain in the morning, he's sure, but he stands by what he said earlier.
The book will still be there.
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Blindfold
Summary:- A shared sexual fantasy leads to trying something new.
Characters:- Bucky x Female Reader
Words:- 2298
Warnings:- Explicit smut. Bondage. Blindfold. Oral Sex (female receiving) Vaginal fingering. Edging. Knee riding. Language. Sexual fantasies. Cold Play. Light BDSM (mostly Bondage). Orgasm denial.
A/N:- This Story is a repost from my original Tumblr blog from 2020.
Banners by @maysdigitalarts
Feather-light touches danced across your skin, your breath hitched in the back of your throat, a shiver of anticipation prickled your skin, as a hand cupped your breast, a thumb circling your perked nipple. Your back arched, and you pushed yourself further into the hand, teasing you, desperately seeking more friction. Bucky chuckle vibrated through you; your senses heightened as the blindfold rested across your eyes. You licked your lips; a soft whimper escaped as his hand drew back, leaving a growing ache deep inside you.
“Somebody is impatient,” Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear softly before he moved to capture your mouth with his. His taste was sweet, creamy, a combination you couldn’t quite decipher but left you hungry for more. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the pounding of his heart, could feel the heat of his skin next to yours, and could smell the combination that was unique to Bucky. You licked your lips again, savouring the taste of him on your tongue.
“I love it when you lick your lips like that baby doll,” Bucky purred, “makes me think of many things your mouth could be doing.”
He kissed you again, this kiss more demanding, more fire and heat, his tongue teasing yours, a dance you know he will win because his skills with his mouth were a cardinal sin and made you weak at the knees.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered against your neck, his hot breath causing a tingle down your spine.
You nodded.
“Use your words, baby doll,” he said firmly. “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you,” you breathed.
“Any time you want me to stop, tell me. You feel uncomfortable with anything I do. Tell me, and we stop. You’re in control here, baby doll. Never think you aren’t.”
You swallowed slowly, nodding at his reassurance. You had mentioned it in passing. A truth whispered in the dark between the two of you, how the idea of being blindfolded, hands bound, at the mercy of someone else turned you on, though if truth be told it was the idea of being at the mercy of Bucky that turned you on because you trusted him, ultimately.
He took your hands in his; pulling them up over your head, where he secured them to the cuffs he had already fitted to the headboard. You flexed your fists; rotating your wrists just enough to assure you that you could move them, even if you couldn’t pull free and reach to touch him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his fingers softly stroking your face.
“Yes,” you replied, your entire body zinging with anticipation, and while your nerves were jittery, fear was the furthest thing from your mind. Hunger, desire, they were what stirred within you, leaving a burning ache in your whole body. You were naked, bound and blindfolded and waiting for Bucky to do whatever he damn well wanted, the suspense turning you on, as thoughts spun across your mind.
You could hear him move, feel the bed shift by you with his weight. Each sound, each movement, caused your muscles to clench and unclench the tension building.
His fingers skimmed your skin. He followed the shape of your body, moving lower and lower until he reached between your legs. He drew a slow outline across your slit before applying more pressure. You bit your bottom lip, wiggling against his hand, desperately searching for more stimulation. Bucky complied. His palm moved up, and his fingers slipped between your folds, entering you, fingers curling ever so slightly, as his thumb started circling your clit. You gasped, raising your hips so he could penetrate you deeper, trying and failing to match his rhythm as your hands strained against the cuffs that stopped you from reaching out to touch him. You desperately wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under your fingers.
His fingers were slick with your juices as he circled inward, sliding them in and out, brushing across your most sensitive spot. He knew which of your buttons to push, which would send a ripple of pleasure through you that would have you mewling as he worked his fingers in and out of you.
Your heart thudded against your chest as you panted, muscles coiling tightly together as though they were waiting to spring forth. Just as you felt the orgasm coming up fast, a cry escaped your lips. Bucky withdrew his hand. Leaving you tethering on the edge, hips bucking, desperately searching for the elusive friction that would give you your release.
“Please!” you pleaded, wiggling in frustration, the cuffs pulling at your wrists, reminding you could do nothing but wait.
“We have only just started, baby doll,” Bucky teased against your skin, before dipping his mouth to trail kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and further down until his tongue rolled over your perked nipple. He spent his time teasing them, sucking and licking, moving from one to the other, ensuring neither went without attention for long. Teeth gently grazed each peak drawing a sharp hiss between your teeth, the sensations bubbling through you as though you were set to simmer, and then there was something else, something cold that left a stinging, prickling trail across your breasts before he soothed with his hot mouth. Bucky rolled a metal thumb across your right nipple, using the temperature control ability within the arm to its full advantage, dropping the temperature until it was a cold as ice.
He took a mouthful of your breast into his hot mouth. The combination of hot and cold had you arching your back upwards, pushing yourself further into his grasp. He teased, and taunted, sucked and nibbled until you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure, only that combined they had your toes curling and heat pooling between your legs and your pulse quickening.
You moaned. Fuck, did you want him, you wanted him badly, wanted to feel his cock deep inside your pussy, wanted him to pound into you until you couldn’t remember your name. But Bucky loved the build-up as much as he loved to fuck you, he loved working you until you were nothing more than a gooey puddle begging for release; he enjoyed taking you apart inch by inch, with his hands, his mouth and his cock. With the blindfold, everything felt so much more intense, so much more that you couldn’t put it into words.
Bucky lowered his head between your legs, his unshaven cheeks pressing against your bare thighs; he kissed his way up one thigh, moving closer to your core before blowing gently onto your pussy.
You quivered, moaning his name, “Bucky.”
The pressure a perfect combination switching from soft, and then firm, then soft again. Bucky’s mouth worked your tender folds to your needy nub. He licked, and he sucked, taking away your breath as he brought you to the edge again and again. Every time you felt your muscles clenching and your body tremor, he pulled back, kissing your inner thigh once again, letting the build-up fall back to simmering rather than boiling point, before starting all over again. The pressure building as every part of you cried out for that unreachable release.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip hard, your hands pulling at the cuffs as your whole body writhes against the bed, seeking more, chasing for more friction, as his tongue licks in circular motions across your clit.
“Fuck, baby doll, I love it when you get like this, dripping and desperate for a release.” Bucky groaned against your pussy, his breath making your body clench and thrum. As you reach that boiling peak, he pulls back once again, kissing his way up your body until he can capture your mouth with his. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and a groan escapes your lips as you melted back into the bed. Bucky was determined, determined to bring you to the edge again and again.
“Open your legs a little more, baby doll,” he said against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You complied, stretching your legs a little wider, feeling the bed shift as Bucky moved. Could feel him pushing a knee between your legs until you could feel it pressing against your pussy. You moaned softly, wriggling your bottom lower until you could press yourself hard against his knee, the friction sending shivers up your spine.
Bucky smiled against your lips; you could feel the movement before capturing yours with his once again, tongue teasing yours. You rolled your hips, letting your pussy push against his knee. He let you; he let you as he nibbled at your neck, let you shift and rub against him, panting as you built yourself closer and closer, thighs squeezing his knee, bringing yourself so desperately close, just a little further, a bit more pressure and you would come. You wanted to claw at his back, dig your fingers into his muscles, grip him tightly as you came; instead, all you could do was grip the leather straps of the cuffs that kept you bound to the bed.
Your heart thudded.
Your muscles tightened, and the pressure was building and building, your whole body trembling as you drew closer and closer, and then Bucky shifted, pulling his knee away, leaving you a panting mess as a desperate plea escaped your throat.
“Please, Bucky, please…”
Bucky doesn’t give in; he knows your body well; knew when you were close when you were reaching your peak and would pull away before you could come. He stroked and then stopped. Licked and then stopped. He teased his cock at your entrance, pushing his head into your folds before pulling away. The hunger was unbearable, the desire coursing through your veins had you twisting against the cuffs, pulling and straining. You arched and bucked and rolled your hips, chasing any promise of release you could get. It was beautiful and torturous. It was delicious as it was wicked, his fingers, his mouth, the scraping of his teeth as he nibbled quickly, followed by his tongue on your body. The combination of hot and cold as he used his metal arm to his full advantage left stinging prickling nerves combining pain and pleasure in a way you had never experienced before.
And through it all, Bucky stopped and checked you were happy to continue. Checked that you felt safe and comfortable and while you couldn’t remember at one point whether you existed lost in the sensation of heightened instincts until all that remained was the clawing, mewling animal desperately seeking pleasure. He worked you to where every touch sent a jolt through your nerves, where every whispered word sent a cascade of shivers across your skin.
“Your beautiful, baby doll,” he whispered sweetly against your skin, you could feel him between your legs, and a whimper escaped your lips, as he leaned over your body, pushing the velvet head of his cock between your folds, he holds himself there, his lips pressing against yours. You arch into his touch before he lifts one of your legs, letting you hook it around his waist as he thrusts into you.
A moan vibrates through you; you feel so deliciously full. It is what you have wanted all night, what he had been edging you towards with every touch and lick. He drives deeper and deeper with every pump of his hips, and you meet him stroke for stroke as your muscles clench around him. Fire and lust course through you. A deep groan leaves Bucky’s throat, a primitive sound that sent a thrill through you.
Your muscles tightened and spasmed, starting deep inside you, deeper than you had ever felt it before, and widening until it overtook every cell in your body. Scorching heat surged through you, pushing its way to the surface with such ferocity that the scream that erupted surprised you as an explosion burst through you. As though you were a volcano and a wave of fiery pleasure burst forth, rolling through your body and alighting every nerve. In that moment you forgot your name, lost to the powerful ripples that filled your body as Bucky continued to pound into you, each thrust sending further waves through you in an unending sea of ecstasy.
“I’m coming,” Bucky cried, and as he thrust harder, his cries joined your own as his spasms rippled through you both, until you could no longer tell where he ended, and you began, joined both in pleasure and in flesh, your bodies melded together in unity.
You floated, an underline trickle of pleasure leaving you panting, and heart thudding as you remembered how to breathe. Your bodies are slick together, and you can still feel Bucky deep inside you as he presses his forehead to yours, nose softly nuzzling yours, before he gently unties the blindfold, letting it slip away. You blink as your eyes adjust to the light, meeting Bucky’s gaze with your own, taking in the deep blue eyes that were full of so many emotions. Silent promises between the two of you that none but you could understand.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. That was unbelievable.”
You watch as the corner of his lips turn up into a smile.
He eases off you, leaving you feeling empty and tingling as he works on the cuffs to release your wrists, before rolling onto his back, your legs still tangled together. You rotate your wrists before snuggling into his side, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers together.
Bucky kisses your forehead.
“I love you.”
“I love you,” you murmured.
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I've released the next short story in An Aspec for All Seasons, my anthology series featuring arospec and acespec characters and holidays/seasonal events.
Modern spirtitualist witch Lyssa is definitely interested in fellow coven member Haven. But would Haven be willing to date an aromantic woman? A fateful step forward on the holiday of Lammas may leave both of them in a place they never knew their intentions would take them.
“The Lammas Date” features an aroallo cupioromantic lesbian lead and lesbian love interest. It is roughly 10,800 words and can be found on Amazon for $1.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited.
#cupioromantic#lesbian#aromantic#aromantic lesbian#aromantic representation#writers on tumblr#katie writes#aro#arospec#aromantic spectrum#witchcraft#queer witch
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