#i don’t know why he came in like that in the beginning i had to pause n go back 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twistedwonderlandyuusworld · 2 days

Text

Twst Dormleaders + Jamil Accidentally Call MC (Y/N) a Mudblood During an Argument

A/N: This is a Harry Potter AU. I would highly suggest reading the previous: “Twst boys and their Blood Status”, to really grasp the understanding of this concept because if you don’t you may or may not be confused. If you aren’t familiar with the term “Mudblood”, it’s a very offensive word that pure-blood wizards and half blood wizards (ironically enough) use against muggleborns. The meaning is “dirty blood”. Now I know I said in the previous post that most of the boys would never discriminate against blood status, and that’s true but sometimes people can say what they don’t mean, especially when they’re angry. Now I might make a part 2 of this post as redemption headcanons on how they apologize, idk. Now just to clarify MC (y/n) is not dating them but the boys do have a secret crush on them and they’re friends.

Riddle Rosehearts

You two were arguing about how you are apparently getting “lazy” with your school work. But in your defense you weren’t being lazy because you had a lot on your plate, being prefect of Ramshackle and the “beast tamer”.

You two were in the Heartstabyl Lounge area studying because he wanted to help you

You kept picking up your phone every five minutes to answer texts from your friends or professors and Riddle was getting annoyed with you every passing minute.

“Prefect, don’t you know how rude it is to be on your phone when someone is speaking to you?” He says tapping his gloved fingers on the table with an annoyed expression.

“Hm?” You say while scrolling and not making eye contact.

Riddle rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to be paying attention. I’m helping you for a reason. On your last potions exam you received a 70%. That’s extremely disgraceful for not only just for a regular student, but also a prefect!”

You finally put your phone down and make eye contact with him. “Will you just relax? A 70% isn’t bad. It’s still passing, and besides that topic was so hard to learn. Will you just cut me some slack?”

Riddle sees red when you say a mere 70% “isn’t bad”. He stands up and begins to raise his voice while making eye contact with you. “You can’t be serious Y/n! You’re supposed to be setting an example! Why are you even a prefect if you can’t even have the motivation to work hard and have perseverance! And besides the topic wasn’t even difficult, it’s just you’re not even trying!”

You get angry and stand up to meet his eye level. “Not trying? NOT TRYING? You have no idea what my life is like everyday! To have an idiot headmaster to make you do his job for him, solve problems that aren’t even your fault and stop overblots without dying! Of course you would be inconsiderate of my situation and scold me! Listen just because your mother was hard on you with your academics, doesn’t mean you have to act that way with me!”

Riddle loses it

“YOU’RE RIGHT, I WOULDN’T EXPECT A MUDBLOOD LIKE YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF SUCCEEDING IN COMPLEX WIZARD ACADEMICS!”

There was a pause

You stare at him for a long time without blinking

Riddle realizes what came out of his mouth, he knows that was he said was extremely below the belt. He clears his throat and averts his eyes.

Then his eyes widen with horror, a sight he was dreaded to see. Your eyes went red and glossy. Tears began to flow from your eyes.

“Y/n I-.” He was cut off by you swiftly packing your things and hastily leaving the room.

Riddle quietly curses himself. How stupid can he be? He made people cry before. But he’d never thought in a million years that he would make the person he secretly loved cry. Especially using….THAT word. He wants to make it up to you. But how?

Leona Kingscholar

You were angry at the fact that Crowley made it YOUR responsibility to make sure that Leona was going to class on time and participate in his studies.

Not only that, but you were angry at the fact that you barely got to spend time with him due to his excessive sleeping schedule. At first, you didn’t mind helping Leona get to class on time or that he likes to sleep. But after a while, it became a chore to “babysit” the lazy lion.

You were on your way to the botanical gardens, Leona’s self claimed napping spot, to tell him he needs to be in class.

You found him

“Leona.” You gently shook him.

He shifts and turns to you with a half open glare.

He lightly growls. “Go away Herbivore. Can’t you see I’m napping?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes I can see that and you shouldn’t be. You are meant to be in class.”

He ignores you

You huff in frustration and gently kick his side. “Up. Now.”

Leona growls loudly this time and sits up.

“Don’t you have any idea of how much this situation affects me? What do you get out of sleeping all the time? I want to spend time with you and you’re not making any effort on your part.” You say while crossing your arms.

Leona rolls his eyes

“Tsk. You’re such a nuisance. Not everything is about you. Now run along and play with the other annoying first year brats.” He turns his head while shooing his hand dismissively.

Your eyes widen.

“Are you kidding me?! Do you know how much pressure I’m in? You are so selfish! You act like you’re the king of everything and don’t even give a damn about things around you! You’re being heartless!

“Just leave, you’re being an annoying mudblood but you don’t seem to be aware of that.”

“W-what?….” You say quietly and shocked staring at him.

“I said leave!” He says shifting back into his previous sleeping position turning away from you.

You look down and tears make their way fast down your cheeks.

“F-fine…I’ll go.” You say trying to sound like you weren’t crying but failed.

You turned on your heel and quickly made your way out of the botanical gardens without looking back.

When you left Leona instantly felt a weight on him….a feeling called guilt. He curses himself and shifts his laying position to him now laying on his back looking up. He couldn’t believe that he just disrespected the one he secretly fancied. He knows he’ll get a scolding from Ruggie later.

Azul Ashengrotto

You and Azul were partnered for a potion project for Professor Crewel’s Alchemy class.

Many students didn’t like working with Azul due to his reputation, however, you were fine with working with him because you seen him from a different angle.

However with intelligence comes with a touch of arrogance.

Azul had a bad habit of being arrogant because of how intelligent he was. And just because you were friends with him, there was no exception.

You both were in one of the labs working on the potion

“Stop. Stop. Stop. You’re adding too much.” He says while blocking the top of the cauldron with his hands.

You look at him annoyed. He’s been doing this for the past 15 minutes. You were confident that you were following the instructions carefully.

“No I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “No.” “Yes.”

That went on for some time.

You were finally fed up

“Why are you so obnoxious, Azul? Why do you think you’re superior to me?” Azul rubs his temple annoyed. “That’s not the case. I’m just simply correcting you of your mistakes. That’s all prefect.” He says through his teeth.

“I barely make mistakes! I’m just as capable as you are when it comes to magic! Hell I’m just as skilled as you are!”

Azul then chuckles lowly.

“Why are you laughing?” You say with a hint of venom in your voice.

“Prefect, let’s not over-exaggerate and make unrealistic claims.” He says arrogantly as he mixes the potion.

“And what exactly are you implying?” He pauses and collects himself before he answers.

“Let’s just say you have a lot of room for improvement. Compared to you I am more gifted and boarder line perfect at my studies.”

You retaliated

“Well I can say the same for you.” He pauses and looks at you. “Oh? Do tell?”

“While you have intelligence you sure lack at physical education. Not exactly what I would call “perfect”. Azul’s eyebrow twitches when you mention the one subject in school he sucks at.

Physical education was a really touchy subject for Azul. He was constantly bullied because he was always in last place. He sucked at it when he was a kid, and he sucked at it now.

You smirk in satisfaction when you see his reaction and you continue to add ingredients to the cauldron.

“At least I’m not a headmaster’s lapdog!” He says in defense.

You stop what you’re doing and turn to him. “At least I’m not a scheming, lying sad excuse of a house warden who can’t let go of the past!”

“AT LEAST I’M NOT A FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHO DOESN’T BELONG HERE!”

You look at him with wide eyes.

Azul immediately realizes his mistake

“Y/n please I-.” He tries to walk over to you but you walk away. He hears faint noises of whimpers and sniffles coming from you. It was clear that you were crying. He sighs angry at himself

“Why did I do that?….now they’ll never love me back….”

Kalim Al Asim

You two were hanging out in the Scarabia dorm lounge. Kalim had tea and snacks laid out and you both were talking for hours.

Kalim wanted to ask you questions about the world you came from

Some were easy to answer but some of them were on the touchy side. Such as “What were your parents like?” Or “Were you happy with your old self before you came here?” Etc.

You were slightly annoyed but didn’t say anything

Then suddenly Kalim asks

“Do you know why the mirror chose you? I mean after all your boarder line just a regular human with the exception of a little bit magical ancestry.”

This question made you set your teacup down. You didn’t know why. So many people asked you this question. You didn’t know why you were randomly taken away from a world you were content in. The more you thought about it, the less special you thought you were.

“I-I don’t know Kalim, can you please not ask me that again?”

Kalim looks at you surprised

“But why? It’s just a simple question.”

“No it’s not, just drop it okay?” You say averting your eyes

“Oh I should’ve known….mudblood’s tend to be really sensitive about their feelings.”

Now it’s to be mentioned that Kalim didn’t know what the word “mudblood” actually meant. All he knew was it was a term used to address muggle-borns. In fact he thought it was a new use of slang because he over heard some other pure-blood wizards use that term in class. He didn’t know that it would offend you.

You freeze and slowly meet his gaze

Kalim looks at you. “What?”

“Don’t you EVER call me that again!” And with that, you get up and angrily march your way out of the lounge passing Jamil on your way out.

Kalim looks at Jamil shocked. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jamil shakes his head disapprovingly while rubbing his temple and mumbles, “Why are you such an idiot?”

Jamil Viper

You wanted Jamil to take a break. That’s all you wanted.

He was over-working himself because he felt obligated to. Even Kalim told him to take a break. But he simply wouldn’t accept it.

He wasn’t answering your texts and even calls, so you made your way to Scarabia

You searched for him everywhere until you caught sight of him making his way to his bedroom.

“Jamil!” I speed walked up to him and he meets your gaze with a tired and bored expression.

He exhales sharply. “What do you want Prefect. I’m quite busy.”

“That’s exactly why I need to talk to you. Why are you making yourself busy all the time? You haven’t been answering your phone.”

He rubs his temple annoyed. “And here I thought you needed something important……if you came here to waste my time, leave. I have no time for nonsense.”

He turns to enter his room but you grab his arm to stop him. “Why are you being like this. I just want to help-“

“Well you aren’t! So stop trying and leave! I don’t know why you would care about a servant like me!”

You were taken aback by his harsh response

“Is this what this is about?! I don’t care about your status!” You say. “I just want to spend time with you that’s all! You don’t have to be at Kalim’s side for every little thing!”

“WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT MY SITUATION AND HARD WORK, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MUDBLOOD!”

Pause

You let go of his arm and take a few steps back

“Wait hold on I-.” Jamil tries to say, but you left teary eyed.

Jamil curses under his breath and goes into his room. His sits down on his bed and reflects on what just happened while putting his hands through his hair.

“Now they’ll definitely choose Kalim over me now…”

Vil Schoenheit

“Honestly Prefect, do you always leave looking like this?”

Vil has been scolding you for the past ten minutes because of the state of your messy attire.

You were rolling your eyes because of how dramatic he was being. After all, it was just your tie being undone and there were just a few strands of hair out of place.

“Stop being over-dramatic, Vil. It’s not a big deal.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “It is VERY much a big deal. If you’re going to be a Prefect, you need to look your best. Your academics not only reflect your dorm and school but also how well kept you keep yourself!”

He begins to fix your hair and tie but you were being uncooperative and moved a lot.

“Stop moving!” “Get your hands off me!”

He stops and looks at you. “So you would rather look like a filthy potato and have me just leave you like this?”

“I want you stop acting like you’re my mother!” You say defensively.

“Well if you dressed yourself properly, I wouldn’t have to!” He retaliates.

“Do you take pride in being a stuck up person?!” You yell back.

“And do YOU take pride in being an unfashionable mudblood?” He says calmly while glaring down at you.

You look at him shocked with wide eyes

His glare softens and he clears his throat realizing his rude mistake.

“Prefect….listen…” Before he could finish you take off.

Rook , who was listening to the whole conversation, of course, seen you leaving and went up to Vil.

“That was a very unbeautiful thing to say, Roi de Poison. You have to apologize.”

Vil exhales sharply, “I know….i just wanted to help…I just wanted to show them how beautiful they are. But they won’t let me…”

Rook sighs, “By calling them the forbidden word?”

Vil’s gaze is down

“At this rate….they’ll never give me a chance…I have to make it up to them.”

Idia Shroud

You wanted him to leave his room. It was a very unhealthy life style in your opinion.

You guys always spent time in his room all because he didn’t want to leave due to his anti-social lifestyle.

Well this time, you wanted to change things a bit

You went to Ignihyde dorm, and you made your way to his room. You knocked on the door and he answered it.

“H-Hey Prefect.”

“Why don’t we hang out outside today. It’s a great cloudy day out.”

He pauses before he answers

“W-why?”

“Well, it’s different and you could get out more- “No.” He cuts you off.

“No? But why?”

He rolls his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed Prefect, I don’t do well with….outside.”

You cross your arms. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to try. Come on.” You take his arm and lead him outside despite his protests.

You both make your way outside of the dorm and go into the main court yard of the school.

“See? Isn’t this better?” You say with a smile.

He shakes his head slowly while looking at the ground.

You both go sit down on a bench and begin talking.

“Hey Prefect!” You look up and see Ace and Deuce. “Hey!” You smile and wave them over.

Idia rolls his eyes in annoyance. He hated interacting with other people, not only that, he was annoyed at the fact that Ace and Deuce always was interrupting your guys’s hang out time. Whether if it was showing up in person or texting. He was always jealous of them. Couldn’t they go one day without talking to you?

“So whatcha guys doing?” Asked Ace.

“Well we are just sitting here and talking.” You replied with a smile. “May we join you?” Deuce asked.

“Sur- “No.” Idia interrupts you. You look at him confused. “Huh?” Ace says. Deuce speaks up. “So is that a yes or- “It’s a no.” Idia says passive aggressively.

Ace and Deuce look at you confused. “Well…okay…see you later y/n.” Ace says awkwardly and leaves with Deuce. After they leave, you turn to Idia and glare.

“What the hell was that? Why did you do that?”

“Why do YOU feel the need to be at their aid every moment of every day?” He replies hostile.

“What’s your problem? Are you still mad at the fact that I made you come outside?” “No….its not that!” “Then what is it?! You’re being extremely weird.” “And you’re being an inconsiderate mudblood!”

“No YOU’RE the one who’s-….wait…what?”

He pauses and averts his eye realizing what he said. “Um…”

Your blood boils as you stand up. “Fine, you can go back to your room. I’m sorry that a mudblood like me wasted your time.” You hastily leaves the area.

“Wait hold on-.” He was left with his own thoughts. “……Ortho is not gonna like this.” He says quietly to himself.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus wanted to spend time with you so badly. However, your rigorous schedule wouldn’t allow it.

He would always try to make plans with you, like getting ice cream together, going on nightly walks, or even studying; but you always politely declined

The more times you canceled, the more annoyed and angry Malleus got.

Well he had enough and decided to confront you late at night. He got Silver to tell you to meet him at the court yard.

Once you got there, you were met with a very angry dragon fae.

“Oh Tsunotaro, did you need something?”

“I’m not liking the fact that you’re being so casual about this, Child of Man.”

You look at him confused, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about, you were completely oblivious towards his words.

“Have I done something wrong?”

He exhales so sharply in frustration that you could’ve sworn you seen smoke coming out of him. You know that he’s extremely upset.

“You always decline my plans with you. And yet you have the audacity to be so naive about it. Not to mention, I see you around those first years, you claim that you’re “busy” but you’re spending time with them….” He glares at you with his arms crossed. Then it finally hit you, was he jealous?

“Tsunotaro, listen-.”

“No, I believe that it is YOU who will listen, Child of Man. I go out of my way to make some time with you and this is how you repay me?”

You get defensive. “YOU have to make time??? I have to make time for so much! You have no idea what my life is like! I’m sorry that you’re so clingy to understand, but I have a life too. And besides I wouldn’t exactly call my time with Ace and Deuce “hanging out”, I would call it “babysitting”, because that’s exactly what I do everyday! Babysit! So I’m sorry if you’re so clingy and needy to the point where you can’t understand that I can’t babysit and entertain you too!”

He takes great offense to your words. Is that really what you see him as? A somebody to entertain for a while and drop them whenever you felt like it?

He glares at you. “Perhaps Sebek was correct….all of you mudbloods are the same.” He says lowly enough for you to hear him.

Your glare disappears and you stare at him in shock. “W-what?…”

He averts his eyes in shame when he sees your reaction. The idea sounded better in his head than out loud. He just wanted to hurt your feelings so that you could feel what he felt when you ditched him all those times….he was so tired of being alone.

“F-fine then….” You say teary eyed. “I should‘ve known a pure-blood wizard like you wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me.”

“Child of man….wait-.” You ran off back to your own dorm. Leaving him there.

He gazes down at the ground. “What have I done…..they’ll never love me….”

241 notes · View notes

deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 3 days

Text

Catstarion

Sorry for the slow uploads, been going out with friends and working for a bit but here's the next one, inspired by @bg-brainrot's post here. Thank you for the idea!

As you set your cup down, ready for another round of wine, you sense something, no, someone staring intently at you. Turning around, you find Astarion standing at the stairs leading up to the rooms, ruby red eyes piercing into your very soul as he stares, arms resting on the banister.

You’ve known him long enough to know what this means so with a sigh, you thank the bartender for his hospitality, excuse yourself from your increasingly drunk group of companions and head over to the stairs.

The vampire grins when he sees you approaching, gently pulling you to one side by your arm.

“Already turning in for the night, my sweet?” His fingers trail up your arm, lips whispering in your ear. The tips of your ears burn, feeling his words ghost over them.

“So it seems,” you reply. “Care to join me?”

The corners of his lips curve upwards, a sparkle in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and gently takes the lead, thumb running over the back of your palm. His wordless answer brings a small smile to your face and you let him guide you, annoyance left at the bar counter.

He turns the corner and opens the door to his room, ushering you in before closing the door behind him. He remains standing at the door as you make your way to the bed, getting comfortable before patting the spot next to you but he doesn’t move.

Raising an eyebrow, you tuck yourself under the covers before patting the pillow next to yours and yet he refuses to budge. Well, third time’s the charm, right? You open your arms and he immediately shoots over, burying himself in your embrace. Amused, you chuckle, which sends reverberations through him. He happily hums in response, shifting so that you have easy access to the entirety of his hair and grabs one of your hands, dropping it on the top his head.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” you snort as you begin to run your fingers through his soft white curls. He lets out a sigh of contentment, basking in the familiar rhythm of your fingers combing his locks, massaging his scalp along the way. The gentle movements start to lull him into a trance and he feels his eyes begin to close, his grip on your clothes loosening but then you do the unthinkable.

You shift.

Immediately his eyes snap open and he turns to glower up at you. You raise your hands in surrender, eyeing him warily as he scowls.

“My love, please do not interrupt my trance again.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

With a huff, he turns, stretching out across your legs like a cat before curling back up, feeling your fingers continue their movements through his hair. He loves it when you do this, when you let him trance whilst resting on you without making a single fuss even though you have little to no intention of going to sleep yourself. He loves how you don’t mind carving out time for him amidst your busy schedule, you could always ignore him until you were done drinking but you always responded to his call, putting aside your own needs and wants for him. He knew he could ask anything of you and you would do it, without crossing the boundaries the both of you had set at the start of your relationship of course.

To him, you always had something better to do than attend to his petty whining but to you, he always came first and he still couldn’t fathom why. Maybe one day he would, perhaps if he sat you down and talked to you about it, he would understand, but that would be after The Absolute was defeated and the worms were removed. He was becoming more positive about the party’s prospects in a fight against The Absolute, although he preferred hiding such feelings.

As your fingers continue to work their magic in his hair, his thoughts drift to the many ways you’ve upended his life. You’ve shown him what it means to love, what it means to be genuine, what it means to care about others. You’ve added to his life, and changed things that were already in his life. You’d made it your whole mission to help him associate actions that once caused him pain and misery with something more pleasant, the only reason why he could slip into a trance whilst you ran your fingers through his hair. Back then, such an action always came with —

Cough.

Astarion groans, reaching up to poke your cheek, “I’m trying to trance here, love. A little peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Sorry,” you pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes he can never resist and he lets the matter slide, returning back to his thoughts and attempt to trance.

You’re always careful to not pull his hair, with knots always being gently untied either with your fingers or a comb should one be nearby. You’re also the only one he trusts to take care of his hair, whether it be washing or helping to maintain it.

He feels you rest your free hand on his waist, the warmth from your palm spreading through his cold undead body and feels the urge to slip into a trance wash over him once more. Knowing he is safe in your arms, for nothing will be able to hurt him when you’re around, he lets the urge take hold, readying himself for whatever nightmares could plague his rest.

That is if you didn’t sneeze right there and then.

Astarion clicks his tongue, refusing to even open his eyes and exclaims, “Gods, how am I supposed to trance in these conditions?”

He buries his face into your thighs, putting up a dramatic show of angrily muttering under his breath while you apologise, struggling to hold in your laughter.

“Come on Astarion. If you want to trance properly, you should’ve just told me to go to sleep!”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to do…this!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of your hand which is still buried beneath his white curls, letting out yet another huff.

“You’ll have to choose one then, Star. I can’t seem to do both.” There’s mirth in your voice and for a moment Astarion wonders if you’re just toying with him but then the look in your eyes reassures him and he lets out a sigh of resignation, sitting up so that you can get into a comfortable position to sleep.

“Fine. Sleep next to me, my love.” He wraps you in a cocoon made from his arms, nuzzling into your neck and feels his fangs press against your skin — the only barrier between him and your blood. Yet you don’t flinch, trusting that he will only bite after asking you for permission and snuggle against him under the covers.

“Stop spending so much time with them,” you hear him mumble. So that was why he was acting so weirdly all night.

“You have me all to yourself every night, don’t you worry.” You press a peck to the top of his head, tucking him tighter against your body.

“And you’ll have me for all eternity too.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

236 notes · View notes

shadowandlightt · 3 days

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories | Twelve | Azriel x Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You laughed as you walked through the forest with your mother and Michaa, your maid. Though, you almost could have believed she was your father’s bastard daughter. In another life, maybe she could have been your sister. You were on your way to meet Rhys, before continuing on to the War Camps to the north.

You hated The Illyrians and their prejudice, but you loved your brother, Cassian, and Azirel. Although you weren’t sure if you’d see Az or Cass on this trip. It’d been too long since you’d laid eyes on them though, and you were aching to feel their arms around you.

“How much further?” You groan, dropping your wings slightly, “Can’t we just fly?”

“You know the winds are too strong today, my love,” your mother informs you softly, “I think we’d all father fly anyway, you know how much Michaa loves it.”

The young woman only grinned and turned her eyes towards the sky. She was Illyrian too. Wings unclipped thanks to having been born in Valaris. Why she wasn’t in Illyria you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have her. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her by your side for all of the trouble you caused.

You close your eyes for a moment and reach your power out, focusing on the soft shadows that lurked by the trees. You weren’t as good at commanding them as Azriel, but you had a small kernel of that power dwelling inside you. Something your father knew nothing about.

I’m coming, you willed them to say. Before searching for their master. You felt his mental shields, just as strong and powerful as he. You stroked down those shields, gently, sensually. Begging for entrance to his mind.

I’m in a meeting, his voice fills your mind.

I plan on sneaking into your tent this weekend.

And you swear you can hear him groan. Not in frustration, but in wanting. You can feel it rippling through his mind. You smile down at your feet, heat rising in your cheeks. You knew the effect you had on him, just as he knew the effect he had on you. You were playing a dangerous game.

Your father would likely kill Az if he ever found out. Which is why you had to get good at sneaking in the shadows, using them to conceal you from prying eyes. You were a quick study though, and was beginning to master the skill. Az was always proud of you when you manages it.

Don’t get me in trouble today, he warns, although not sounding very convincing, I doubt the Lords would like it very much if I start smelling like I want you as badly as I do.

You pause, nearly tripping over a fallen log. Your mother gives you a knowing smile, seeming to understand who you’re talking to. She only knew because she once caught Az sneaking out of your rooms just before dawn. Her and Rhys had been out flying all night and were just returning. She only smiled and turned around, wishing you both a goodnight as she went.

I doubt my brother would like it very much.

Minx.

But you can hear the laugh in his voice. It fills your head and your chest, filling the void that always seems to be there when Azirel is not near. You rub your chest subconsciously, feeling that void a little more today knowing you’ll be seeing him in just a few short hours.

“Rhys will winnow us to the camps, won’t he?” You ask your mother.

“Yes dear, he’ll winnow you and Michaa first and then come back for me,” She tells you once more.

I want everything with you, Az.

I want it all too.

You smile to yourself, knowing he meant it. If only your father wasn’t the male that he was, maybe you’d be allowed to follow your heart. Free to love whoever you wished. Not be sold for breeding when the time came. But you were still young, only eighteen. Marriage was still a good while away, thanks to your mother convincing him you still had growing up to do. She was right in some ways.

“Pay attention to where you’re walking, Y/N,” your mother warned you, “Your Shadowsinger will still be there once we reach our meeting point.”

You blush ferociously, heat flooding your cheeks so much that it radiated from them. Michaa smiled and let out a little laugh. She knew too, of course. You two sat up late most nights, when you weren’t out flying together, and talked about the Shadowsinger and just how wonderful he truly is.

He’d seen such darkness already in his life, but yet his smile was still so beautiful it took your breath away. Sometimes that smile was reserved only for you. Sometimes you felt as if you were the only fae alive that got to see it, and you were okay with that. With the thought that he only smiled for you, and sometimes Cassian and Rhys. They were his bastard brothers after all. You were different though, you’d never seen him as a brother. From the moment you met him, as young as you were, you knew he was destined to be something else to you. You could already feel that strange tug in your chest, pulling you towards him.

I’ll see you soon, you promise him, sending images of the two of you curled up together into his mind.

You can practically feel him smiling against your skin, can practically feel him against you. You bite your lip, trying to regain control. But he seems to caress you in his mind, making you go weak in the knees.

You pull away from his mind, noting how he seems to leave a small spot open just for you to return whenever you feel like it. You smile to yourself as you continue to walk. You wished you were strong enough to winnow more than one person, so you could just winnow to the camps and be done with this walking.

But you weren’t far from the halfway point where you were supposed to meet Rhys. You would probably have to wait on him, seeing as he was apparently in the middle of training a new unit, but he would come for you one way or another. And he would take you to Azriel, whether he wanted to do so or not.

But the shadows swirled around you as you reached a clearing. Your mother and Michaa falling silent. The whole world fell silent it seemed like. The shadows swirled, reaching your ears as you sniffed the air around you.

Run, they said, run far and run fast.

“Mother?” You question, smelling several distinctly male scents lingering in the air.

She didn’t get the chance to reply before an arrow shot through her wings, causing her to scream out. You screamed too, seeing a flash of blonde hair in your vision, before arms came around you. Your wings vanished, too afraid of what might happen to them. But your mother, Cauldron, your mother’s wings.

They grabbed Michaa next, holding a blade to her throat. You felt the cold steel kiss your own neck as lips caressed your ear.

“Don’t scream,” He said into your ear, “Or I’ll slit your throat.”

You swallow thickly. Fear gripping every part of you. You forgot the training Cassian and Rhys and Azirel drilled into you. Forgot that you weren’t a helpless little girl, that you had powers too. But all you could think of was the fear that gripped you and the smell of blood, your mother’s blood. And the realization that you were going to die, one way or another.

You wake with a start, jolting up in your bed before hurtling yourself into the washroom nearby. You empty your stomach over and over again, before the sound of your bedroom door makes you stop. Cassian is by your side in an instant, rubbing your back.

“I have them too,” He confirms, “Every night.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” You say softly, feeling the nausea fade.

“I was already awake,” He sighs, sitting down on the floor across from you, leaning against the bath, “I heard you scream.”

“It was that day,” You confide in him, “In the woods.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” He tells you slowly, “I don’t want you to have to relive it.”

“I relive it every day. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s there.”

His eyes soften at you. He reaches a hand out for you to take. He’d been too far away that day to get anywhere near you. He couldn’t have made it even if Rhys called for him. He didn’t know it happened until it was too late. He made it to the clearing not long after Azirel and Rhys, having flown as quickly as he possibly could.

“It was Lucien,” You spoke after a long while, “I slept with Lucien.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies softly, “You did what you had to do to survive.”

“I did it to survive,” You agree, in your own way trying to convince yourself, “It kept Tamlin from darkening my door.”

He sighs deeply, knowing you’d been through more than any of them. You watch as he gets to his feet, wings tucked in tight, and holds a hand out for you, “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”

You take his hand and allow him to pull you up before slowly walking you to your large bed. Big enough to accommodate wings, you realized. Big enough for more than one winged person. You had a lump in your throat, because once upon a time that was all you could’ve asked for.

You climbed into your bed, allowing Cassian to pull the covers up over you before he walked to the other side and crawled in.

“What are you doing?”

“Not leaving you alone,” He said gruffly, curling his arms around your stomach and pulling you to him, “We all know you slept better when Az was in your bed, but seeing as he’s at The House of Wind, being an ass, I’ll just have to do.”

You swallow and nod. Trying to fight the blush on your cheeks at his admission. You knew, of course, that he knew about you and Az. He hadn’t made his knowing very secret over the years. But was always smart enough to lose his tongue whenever your father was around.

Now he didn’t have to worry about that. Your father was dead. You didn’t mourn him the way you mourned your mother. You didn’t feel the need to mourn him in that way. He wasn’t a loving man. He was the opposite of your mother.

“Why won’t you fly?” Cass asked softly.

“It hurts too much to try and summon my wings now,” You tell him honestly. It seemed that tonight would be the night to let all of your secrets go.

“Hurts too-”

You cut him off by rolling over onto your front, your nightgown cut low enough in the back to reveal two long scars stretching down your back. You know the moment Cass saw them, because he went rigid and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out, fingers carefully brushing the top of the scars.

“Hurts in more than one way,” You confirm, “Emotionally, and physically. The scars are thick, right where the wings should be.”

“You didn’t heal?”

“Faebane.”

He rolls you back over so you’re on your back now. You refuse to look up at him, refuse to meet his eyes. You can feel him staring at you though, you can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him in waves.

You shake your head and roll back over on your side, “I’m tired.”

You feel him nod behind you before wrapping you back up in his arms. You melt into his arms, missing the feeling of being held by someone. Maybe that’s why you turned to Lucien all of those years ago. He was there and he was in pain too, and needed someone to help him move on. He was sweet and gentle and not at all like his ruthless brothers, or Tamlin.

It just seemed to work between the two of you. There was no love between you, no true feelings. It was physical, and that was it. He would occasionally try to go to bat for you against Tamlin, but much like how he was with Feyre, he would never really push his friend for fear of what would happen.

You fall asleep quickly, and do not dream again.

You wake in the morning to the sound of a door opening and a low growl. Fear rips through you and you refuse to move. Even as arms retract from around you, even as the male next to you sits up in the bed.

“You don’t get the option of being mad,” you almost let out a sigh of relief at Cassian’s voice.

You were in the Night Court, you were safe.

“You’re in her bed,” Azriel growls.

“All because you weren’t here,” Cassian shrugs, or you assume he does, “She needed you, and you were sulking because she did what she had to in order to survive.”

“You know nothing about what she did,” Az growls again.

“They carved her back,” You feel Cassian shudder in the bed, “Two long lines, right where her wings should be, like they carved her up trying to get to them.”

You wanted to tell them that he was right. That’s exactly what they did. They carved you up like a piece of meat trying to find your beloved wings. The thought made you want to vomit again. But you refused, you refused to let them see you like that again.

“Get out of her bed.”

“Brother, you know I’m only here to help her,” Cassian said softly, “She needed someone. Preferably you, but I made do.”

The bed dipped as Cassian got up, leaning over long enough to brush a kiss on your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but he’d been doing it since you were a small child, maybe even before then.

“It was Lucien Vanserra,” Cassian said softly at the door, “Which I thank the Mother for. Because at least he still had a heart, before Amerantha came. For all he’s worth, he was a good male, once upon a time.”

Azirel growls again and shuts the door in Cassian’s face. Az’s shadows make their way towards you, curling around your body as Az slowly moves closer. You know they’ll tell him that you’re awake, but maybe he’ll ignore them and let you continue this farce.

“I’m sorry,” He said pulling a chair up to the edge of your bed, “I should have handled things better yesterday.”

You finally peel your eyes open to see him leaning over, hands folded on your bed. You want to reach for those hands, those beautifully scarred hands. You wanted to kiss them again, like you used to do all those years ago. But it didn’t feel right anymore.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” You admit, “It was wrong of me. I aimed to hurt you, and that’s something I promised I’d never do.”

His head shook slowly, “I hurt you too. I promised I wouldn’t let you go. And instead I turned my back on you the second you said something I didn’t like.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and reach over to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. You missed his eyes, so telling to you and cold to everyone else. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, violent, cold, and deadly, yet so soft and warm to you.

“I love you, Azriel,” You admit softly, feeling his shadows gather on your back.

You knew what they were doing, even if he didn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them. He would want to see them eventually. But not this morning. Not when you already felt so laid bare in front of him.

“I know you do,” He leans forward to kiss you, “I love you too. C’mon, Rhys said he should be back today. And Mor is waiting downstairs to eat breakfast with us.”

So you find yourself sipping on coffee and eating a rich pastry with Mor when Rhys, and a very soaking wet Feyre and Amren slam into the floor of the living room. You all shoot to your feet. Moving towards the three quickly.

“What the hell happened?” You questioned.

“I’d like to know the same thing,” Rhys stated.

“Did you get it?” Is all Mor can think to say.

“Get what?” Your head rips to her and then back to Rhys.

“Nothing.”

“No!” You yell, “Not nothing! Obviously not nothing. What happened in Summer?”

And then you hear it, you hear the book.

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @queerqueenlynn @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @witchymomfrien

@one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @annamariereads16 @maddybraps @saltedcoffeescotch

@wallacewillow0773638 @minnieoo @st0rmyt @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf

@sh4n @emryb @mikatanazaki @nickishadow139 @ilovespideyyy

@mysticalfuncollectorus @judig92 @tele86 @oksloan3 @darling006

@dr4g0ngirl @weasleyreidstyles @ren-ni @fleurrreads @i-am-infinite

@thestartitaness @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @isa1b2h3 @fightmedraco

@val-writesstuff @acourtofdreamsandshadows @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @mybestfriendmademe @azzydaddy

@lilah-asteria @quinzzelx @5onedirection5 @its-sam-good @mp-littlebit

#acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

136 notes · View notes

gauloiseblue · 1 day

Text

And at every table / I'll save you a seat

(Gaz × Reader)

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Tags: fluff, smut, family issue, friends to lovers, slow burn, [A bit of warning] tradition view on virginity and marriage, piv sex

Words: 9.8k

It all started with a little request

"Will you take my virginity?"

He's taken aback by the ask, but he quickly regains his composure.

"No." He replied.

You look at him for a while, before you mutter out, "I understand."

"Wait," He grabs your hand before you could turn around, "Let's talk about it."

He observes the hesitation rising from your face when you look away, "I don't think you'd understand."

"You haven't tried yet." He smiles gently, "Try me, (Name)."

"... It's a long story."

"I got time for it." He told you, "Tea?"

With that, he invites you into his place.

You're silent when he offers you a seat, and he lets you sit with your thoughts as he works on the drink. It's not your first visit to his apartment, since you've been here quite often. But you never came with a somber mood, and he didn't know what to say to cheer you up.

He hands you the cup, before he pours the tea from the pot. He hears you murmur something, and though he doesn't quite catch it, he can roughly guess it.

"So," He began as he sat down across the table, "Would you mind telling me why you suddenly wanna lose it?"

You had blown the steam away from the cup, before you took a sip. He watches you take your time with the drink, until you're ready to talk.

"I know that I said I'm keeping myself until marriage, but I don’t think it's possible now." You bit your lip, as you fidgeted with the handle of your cup, "Because I'm going to be wed to someone I didn't know."

He raises his brows at your statement, "That practice still exists today?"

"Yes, it still does." You begin to explain the outline of the story. "My family came from a community that still holds an orthodox belief. My parents aren't conservative, but they can't escape the tradition either. When they told me about the engagement, I begged them to call it off, yet they asked me to go with it. But I don't want that. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage." Your eyes shift as you hold back tears, "I know that they love me, if they don't, I won't be here. Away from home."

You quickly wipe your cheek before you continue, "The man who'll be my husband is highly respected in the community, but he's at the same age as my mother. I don't know why he asked for my hand, we barely talked. But for the last few months, he began to send me gifts. It's customary for a suitor to give the girl presents as a way of courting. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details."

He waits for you to gather your thoughts, before you start again.

"To be a bride, it's common for a girl to go through a ceremony, to see if the girl is suitable for marriage. I have to fulfill all of certain criteria to be recognized as a proper fiancée." You snort when you mention it, "Ky, you're a smart person, you must've known what that means."

He crosses his arms when you subtly ask him to make the conclusion. "If you fail the virginity test, then you're ineligible to be a bride."

"There are other factors that can annul the engagement, but yes, purity is the most important aspect for the bride to have." You stated, "If I fail that test, then I can be free from the custom."

"Won't you be shamed for… not being pure?" He carefully asked.

"Yes, but It's better than the other option."

You went quiet after the confession, as if you've retreated back to your shell.

He gazes at you long and closely, while a sense of familiarity comes to rest on him. The way you carry yourself reminds him of the old you—who couldn't look him in the eyes when you both were strangers.

"Say," He begins, as he rubs his face, "If I were to help you, what then?"

"Nothing, we can pretend it never happened."

"You know it's not possible, right?" He frowned, "We can't go back like we used to, at least I can't see it that way."

"I know, but I don’t have a lot of choices." You replied with a sigh, "I can never sleep with a stranger, and I can't do it myself either." You told him, "I have to lose it somehow, but I don’t know how. And the reason I asked you this because you seem to have a lot of experience, so—"

You stop when he presses his hand against his lips. While it's impossible to tell if he blushes or not, you swear you see a red tint on his cheeks.

"You're not…?"

He scratches his neck, as he coyly replies, "My ma raised me well, (Name). Of course I'd save myself before marriage."

"Oh—" You cover your mouth in shock, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked you—"

"It's alright." He smiles, "How much time you have left until the ceremony?"

"About a month." You answered.

"I'll help you then." He said with such ease, that it made you stare at him wide-eyed, "But let me take you to a date first."

"What," You gulped, "What do you—Why? I thought… you said no…?"

"I hate seeing you like this, and I don't want you to resort to one night stand." He told you, "Besides, you didn't force me into this."

"But I did make you sympathize with me." You shook your head, "That's why you changed your mind."

"I said no because I knew you're saving yourself for marriage."

"But you said that you did too."

"That makes us even then." He tilts his head, "I'll take yours, and you'll take mine."

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of it. Not because you're at loss for words, rather, you have too many questions in your head.

"You can decide how many dates we'll go before you decide if you want to do it." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, "How's that sound?"

Although you're still unsure at that time, you can't help but nod at the offer.

The first time he takes you on a date, it's on Sunday, 07:20 PM, at an independent cinema. He phoned you earlier, telling you that they're going to play an old romantic film.

"I thought you like mystery?"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't pick that on the first date." He grins, "Besides, the movie has Binoche in it."

By the time you arrive at the cinema, you spot him talking to another man by the ticket booth. He turns his head when he hears your call, before the other man leans to the side to see you.

"You're early." You told him.

"I could say the same to you." He said with a smile, "The movie's starting in 10, c'mere."

He extends his hand towards you, and you take it with a little bit of apprehension.

The man whistles when he drapes his arm around your shoulders, "I see ya bringing a date tonight."

"Yeah," He turned to you, "Ain't she pretty?"

His friend chuckles when your face turns red, "Can't argue with that."

"Well, we'll talk later. I'm gonna show her around for a bit." He gives the man a pat on his arm, "You still have that shrine of yours?"

"'Course!" He warmly retorted, "Wouldn't close it for ya."

He mutters something back to him, and the man gives him a thumb up. When the two of you part with him, you ask him about the shrine.

"It's just a room full of merchs." He explains, "He's a movie fanatic, so when he liked a film, he'd find any of the collectibles."

"Like graphic t-shirts?"

"More than that." He grins, "You'll see."

At the end of the hall, there's a door smaller than the theater one. He opens it for you, and guides you inside.

The room is roughly the size of a humble apartment, but it's filled with many posters and other things you have to see up close to know what they are. Your eyes scan the movie posters that are mounted on the wall, before you turn to a doll. It's a porcelain doll, adorned with old-fashioned clothes. You lift the little paper beneath it and begin to read.

"It's from 'Interview With The Vampire'." You hear him say, "It's one of the collections that he's proud of."

"I've seen that movie years ago." You murmured, while tracing the edge of the paper with your finger, "I didn't understand what the story was about, until I read the book."

"You read the novel?"

You nod, "I still read it from time to time. Oh, would you look at that." He turns his gaze towards the spot you point at, "Didn't we watch that movie together?"

"Mulholland Drive?" He rubs his chin, "Didn't you say you hate it?"

"Well, I did. But it's been stuck in my head since then." You turn on your heel and skim through the titles of the posters, "I see a lot of foreign movies but not french." You commented, "Isn't he a movie fanatic?"

"He is. Just not a hypocritical one." He replied, "He told me that many of the French directors are lecherous, and they like to put their fantasies into their movies. Guess what caused them to earn a good rating?"

"I don't know, affinity bias?"

"Precisely." He grins, "He likes a few French films though, like Plein Soleil, Amélie, Playtime,"

"Léon?" You smirk.

"He'd berate you if you ever mentioned that name in front of him."

You laugh at his playful warning, "I think I like him."

"Too bad, he already has a wife." He circles his arm around you, "Why don't I introduce you to someone else?"

You roll your eyes at him, as you're so used to hearing those words.

"Yeah, his name is Kyle Garrick, and he's currently single."

"Come on, you loved it the first time you heard it."

"Well, I did laugh at it, but it's getting old." You jest as you poke in his ribs, "Try something else, and maybe I'll fall for it."

And he gives you a response that gets you burst into a laughing fit. You shove him away as you retort back, ignoring the quiet tension that begins to hang in the air.

When the two of you enter the theater, he places his hand on your back as he guides you to your seat. Though it's just a small gesture, it sends a warm feeling to your stomach.

He settles down beside you, and his arm brushes against yours. The seats are quite broad compared to the commercial cinema, but still, there's not much space left between you and him. You try not to think about it too much, as you rest your hand on the same armrest as his.

The opening of the film with the scenery of a small town, before it shows the greetings between churchgoers and the neatly dressed gentleman. It then cuts to a standing crowd, who begins their worship with singing. You frown when you listen to the narrator, as she portrays the minds of the villagers as singular. As the hymn comes to an end, the parishioners bend down to sit on the pews, before the pastor climbs up to give a sermon. The colors of the scene contrasts with the next bit, as it cuts to two figures in the middle of the snow. The figures are covered with red hoods that they hold tightly as they walk against the wind.

The movie soon changes right after the wind blows the church door open. It focuses on the two figures earlier—a mother, and a daughter, as they begin to settle down at their new house.

Scene after scene, the narratives begin to blur into one, and you let yourself be immersed into the flow of the film. Instinctively, your body leans forward as you watch the chocolate and the store begin to take form. Yet in doing so, you missed the look your friend gave.

When the first conflict happens, you can't help but show your dislike towards the man—the well-dressed man from the beginning. But it soon dissipates when the woman invites her guest inside.

They talk for a little while, and the way she—her guest behaves, the clumsiness that she shows—that makes her look like a cornered cat, it almost looks surreal, as if you're watching yourself from the future scope. You press your hand against your lips, as the crease between your eyes deepens.

Perhaps it's just the right moment, or perhaps your thoughts spill over into his, that he decides to push your head gently onto his shoulder.

You were taken aback by the gesture, but you welcomed it. You murmur something to him, as you wrap your hand around his arm.

"What?" He asked in a low tone.

"Nothing." You told him while hiding your smile.

Kyle Garrick. You wonder if kind has always been his middle name. If it's not kind, then it must be thoughtful. It must be nice, to receive such affection from a man like him. In the midst of thoughts cartage, you begin to ponder, if it's alright for you to keep them from someone who's more deserving.

At the end of the movie, you slip your hand from his arm, as you stand up from your seat. You still remember the way he understands, and doesn't push further. He keeps the rest of the night in a lighthearted mood, though his hand lingers on you a little longer, and his gaze doesn't stray further from you, even just a little bit.

That night, you lay down on your bed with your thoughts as your lullaby. It doesn't help you sleep, but it does keep you company for the night.

The next day, you ask him if he's free on Friday.

It's curious how fast he responded back, considering that he still got jobs to do, particularly reports. When you read the message, you bite your lips as you type a new one.

'Wanna have dinner together?'

A new chat pops up in a second.

'Sure'

And another one after.

'When?'

'Today' You reply, 'Takeouts?'

'Let me cook for ya'

And it's settled.

When you show up on his doorstep, he opens it up the first time you ring the bell.

"Hey," He greets you with a grin, and you notice a red stain on his shirt, "Come in."

"Smells good." You commented as you stepped in, "What are you cooking?"

"Bolognese." He replied, "I haven't decided on the pasta yet. What do you want? Pappardelle or spaghetti?"

"Fusilli?" You said, before a smile betrays your lie, "Anything's fine, really."

"Pick a color then. Yellow or blue?"

"Yellow."

"Pappardelle then."

You thought it's just a random decider, until you saw the color of the packaging.

"Guess you're used to people who say it's up to you." You remarked while you climbed on the bar stool.

"You can say that." He chuckles as he drops the pasta into the pot.

"Were they your dates?"

"Pshh, no. Just my little brothers and sister. You know the story."

"I know." You trailed off and looked away, "But you must've had those moments in your dates."

"Like what you did earlier?" He smirks and you groan at him.

"Come on, you know I'd never complain about your choice."

"I know, that's why I like you."

"You always say that."

The conversation ends with a quiet chuckle, as he goes back to watch over the boiling water. You sense a reply from him that should be laid bare, but he left it at surmise.

"Dinner's ready." He announced, as he lifted up the plates from the counter. You follow him to the dining table, and you pull a seat while he places the dishes on the table.

As the two of you dig in, you quietly bite on the broad pasta. You might not be aware of it, but you always chew on your food longer when you're preoccupied with your mind.

You hear his voice as you snap out of your thoughts, but not clear enough for you to grasp.

"What?"

"It's alright if you wanna back down." He repeated, as he swirled the pasta with his fork, "I agreed to help you because you asked me to, but I know it might make things awkward between us, so."

"Oh, that's not—it's not about that, it's just," You chewed on your lip, "It's just that, when I think about you, I can't help but think that… I'll end up stealing something from you." You shook your head, "You could wait for the right person, you're not obligated to help me—"

"Well, I want to."

"I know, that's why I feel bad because I knew you wouldn't hesitate to help." You frown, "You're too kind for me, Ky. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get the wrong idea."

You almost jump when he holds your hand, and witness the fortitude that reflects in his eyes. "Go ahead then, go on and get the wrong idea. Because it might be true after all."

The way he said it—with a clear, unmistakable voice, drags you into silence. You can't find the words to say, nor the right response for his statement. While you're not entirely sure about the truth, you can see the trace of it on his face.

Your throat begins to tighten, and you try to swallow down whatever's in the way.

You know that he's hopeful that you'd give him some kind of clarity, but you don't. You couldn't.

After the dinner, you don’t extend your visit as you excuse yourself from staying.

"Let me take you home."

You shake your head, "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

You shoot him a smile, "Yes, don't worry about me."

He seems hesitant for a moment, but it disappears the moment you pull him into a hug.

"I'll call you when I'm home."

He picks up the phone at the second ringtone, and asks you if you're home. You give an affirmative answer, before the line turns silent.

The words that had wrapped around your throat came back to the surface. They beg to be let out of your tongue, but you bite them down. Not now. Not yet.

The call ends not long after, as you both say goodnight. As you sit down on the vanity stool, you look at the reflection of you in the mirror. It's the shape that you've known so well, and yet, you don't recognize it at the same time. Has your face already been like this? Is this what he always sees whenever you're around?

Absent-mindedly, you reach up to touch your lips. What would you taste like, if he ever kissed you?

Unfortunately, you can only imagine for now.

Four days would pass, and you soon find yourself waiting for the bell. He had messaged you earlier, telling you that he'll pick you up at your place.

The destination of your date is still unknown, since you only asked him to take you to somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can talk without the presence of curious ears. Of course, the first thought that came to your mind is the privacy of your home, but he got another idea, and kept it as a surprise.

"Bring a jacket with you." He told you on the phone, "You might need it."

But you don't know how cold it'll be, so you stick with a cardigan.

When he gets to your place, he doesn't ring the bell. Instead, you hear your phone rings, before a honk of a car announces his arrival. You walk out of your place and lock the door behind.

"Where are we going?" Is the question you asked him after you got into his car.

"You'll find out." He replied with a grin.

He doesn't give you any clue, other than the paper bag on the back seat. He also told you that it's a one-hour drive, so it's alright if you want to rest your eyes.

"I'm fine." You said, as you turned on the radio.

The ride is predominantly filled with songs, and the occasional chat between you and him.

On the other day, you either wouldn't stop talking, or you'd sit in comfortable silence. But that morning, both options seem unreachable.

"I'm sorry." You uttered quietly.

"What?"

"Sorry that I dragged you into this." You muse, "And I'm sorry that I made such a big deal out of it. I made things worse, didn't I?"

"Why'd you say that?"

"Because things have already changed between us, even when we haven't done anything."

"You think so?"

"Yes," You divulged, "When you said those things, I couldn't help but think that maybe you really meant it. But then again, you never told me anything before. Anything that could… indicate something."

"Are you sure?" You frown at his reply, "Think again, (Name)."

"What—?"

The car comes to a halt, and you snap your head towards the window. The usual view of the city has been replaced with trees. You stare at the board near the entrance, and you notice the words 'National Park' on it.

"We're here." He stated while unbuckling the seat belt.

You soon follow him as you push the door open. The cold air rushes inside, and makes you shiver.

He offers you his hand when you step out of the car. "Let's take a walk."

The trail that he chooses isn't as rough as you thought, and you can easily keep up with his speed. Though you knew that he slowed it down for you.

As you walk by his side, you feel a tug on your hand. It was his hand, and he wrapped it around yours. He smiles when you turn to him, and mutters out the same line he used whenever you're out with him.

"Wouldn't want to lose you here."

And it just clicked. Every piece of the puzzle just falls into the right place, and you begin to see the whole picture. He never changed at all, it was you who's changing.

"You like me."

You feel his hold tightens, before he loosens it up a second after.

"Like is an understatement."

"I'm afraid to use the stronger word."

"I know." He spoke softly, "That's why I never said it."

At the end of the path, a quiet lake waits for the two of you, providing a place for a silent conversation. The water is calm, but the breeze is colder than before. You hug yourself, trying to savor the little warmth that your cardigan provides. It doesn't take seconds before you hear a rustle, and feel yourself wrapped in a parka.

"Told you to bring a jacket." He murmured, as he held the garment for you.

His coat is warm, as if it has absorbed the heat of his skin. Your hands slip into the sleeves, before you roll up the cuffs. You watch his face as he zips up the parka, before he returns your gaze.

Perhaps it's him who leans closer, or it's you who wraps your hands around him first, but in the end, your lips meet with his. The kiss you both share is soft, and filled with longing. It's impossible to tell who's feeling it belongs to, but it envelopes around you like a mist.

When the two of you part, you smile as you murmur against his lips.

"I like you."

He softly chuckles as he cups your face, "I'm glad."

You both recognize the nuance of it, but no one speaks of it louder than a heartbeat.

I like you. What an understatement.

—

"Why do you like me?"

He lifts his head from the magazine when he hears your question.

"I could tell you all of the reasons, but at the end of the day, I simply like you."

"Really?" You roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying you don't know?"

He lets out a small laugh, while he closes the mag. "Fine, I'll tell you." He begins, "I can't remember when it was, but we're pretty close at that time. We were just talking that night, and you asked me if I chose to be the giver because I felt uncomfortable receiving. I never thought about it, but it made sense. When I said yes, you told me, if I don't learn to receive, then I'd end up hurting other people. Because I denied their affection."

You lift your brows at the recount, "Did I really say that?"

"Yes, but it's not your words that got me the most. It's the way you broke my logic, and helped me see things from a new perspective." He stated, "It felt… nice, to be understood by you." He rubs the nape of his neck, "Well, what about you? Why do you like me?"

"I'm not sure." You pucker your lips, "I think I've always liked you. Because you're thoughtful, and it's something that's easier to say than done."

"Just that?"

"What? You want more?"

"Yeah," He smirked, "Go on."

You look at him long and hard, before you decide, "No."

"Why?"

"I'd say something embarrassing."

"Like what?"

"... I'm not telling."

He jumps on the sofa as he seizes your body. You squeal when he digs his fingers on your waists, and you shout, "Cut it out!"

He chuckles when you try to slap his hand away and fail, "C'mon, tell me." He grins, while his hands don't stop tickling you.

"Stop—I'm not telling—!"

When he had you pinned down, you kicked around to get him off you. Which, unfortunately, ends up knocking the empty glass on the table. You both watch in horror as the glass falls off the surface, and into the floor.

But it doesn't shatter. Instead, it bounces twice, before it rolls in a half circle. When it stops moving, it takes about five seconds before the two of you burst into laughter.

"That's the second time you almost broke it."

"Sorry." You muttered through your giggle, "But whose fault was it?"

"Me." He grinned, before slowly bent down to kiss you.

Just like the other kisses you've shared, it goes on for more than a minute. He gently guides you as he cups your cheeks. Your arms find their way around his neck, and keep him close to you.

He leans his forehead against yours, as he catches his breath. You observed the way his chest rises and falls while you follow the same rhythm. Maybe you soften at the sight of him, or maybe a kiss'd really loosen up someone's tongue, that's why the words fall out of your mouth so easily.

"I like your kisses."

He raises his head as he turns his gaze on you. "Was that the thing you're embarrassed to admit?"

You give his shoulder a punch.

"Hey." He retorted with a chuckle, "'M just kidding."

He presses his lips on your cheek, before he lays down on your side. You shift your body to give him space, and settle your head on his arm, while the other one is wrapped around you.

"Comfy?"

You nod, "You're warm."

"Glad to be your heater."

You bury your face into his chest as you giggle.

"I just wish you're portable," You jest, "So I could use you whenever I'm cold."

"Who says I'm not portable?"

"Well, you can't be with me 24/7."

"Careful what you wish for." He smirked.

You raise your brow at him, "Is that a warning?"

"Maybe."

"Mmm," You rested your finger on your chin, "Didn't sound like one."

"Really?" He teases, "Then you won't mind if I keep you here for the night."

"I'm busy tomorrow, so no." You hold your chuckle when you see him pout, "But I'm free next weekend, you can keep me until Monday if you want."

A glint of mischief crosses his eyes, as he pulls you into a kiss.

"I can't wait."

But waiting doesn't feel longer than you expect, since you meet him for dinner almost everyday. If one of you couldn't make it, you both would be on the call that night.

Talking has been a part of your relationship, even when the two of you still carried the friends title. You could talk with him for hours, and bring up every topic into it. Doesn't matter how random or strange. But there was a line that you both couldn't cross, something that kept the two of you in circles. And you thought it'd stay that way, until you stepped into the other side.

It's a wonder how a familial issue could push your relationship to this point, since you wouldn't think twice about him for the sake of friendship. Now that you've crossed the line, you have nothing to hide from him.

While it might be a good thing, it also leads you to unknown territories. When you're with him, you can no longer ignore the tension that fills the room. Any time that he kissed you, or held you tight in his arms, you couldn't help but think if this would be it. This would be the right time for it. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask.

Maybe that's the reason why—after the 2:01:31 mark on the call, you bring up the obvious question to light.

"Y'know Ky," You start, "I don't have much experience with sex, and neither do you. So how exactly are we gonna do it?"

The line goes silent for a moment, before you hear him draw a breath in. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"

"No—I mean, yes. But that's not my point." You sigh, "I just—I don't know, I feel like I need to learn about it before getting to the act."

There's a subtle hint of a rustle that you could only guess coming from the papers, "It'll definitely help if we do some research beforehand."

"But where do we start?" You asked, "Porn?"

"I wouldn't recommend that. It's… unrealistic."

"What then? 'A guide to sex' book? 'Sex for dummies'?"

You catch the sound of his chuckle from the speaker. "Only grandmas would read that."

"I would read that if it helps me prepare."

He hums, and your ear picks up the sound of clink, like a metal is placed against a wood. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How far have you gone with your partner in the past?"

You hum as you think back, "I think I stopped at heavy petting. I was in high school back then and I was curious. But it hurted, and I was bleeding after the session." You snort when you recall the moment, "Of course I freaked out, but when I secretly tested myself out, I found that I'm still a virgin. I could only guess that he tore something with his nail. That's why I bled."

"I see."

"What about you?" You asked, "How far have you gotten with it?"

"Same as you." He responded, "Fingering, oral, hand job, all the foreplay stuff."

You bite your lip as you hear his tone becomes heavier with each word, something that you notice whenever you dive into a risky topic.

"Should we give it a try?"

There's a pause from the other side of the call, before you receive a reply. "You sure you want it?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "We gotta start somewhere."

Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, as you wait for him to answer.

"Alright." He mused, and you felt the warmth creeping up from your lower belly. "Is the plan still on?"

"What plan?"

"You staying over for the weekend?"

You smile against the phone as you reply, "Of course."

"I'll be waiting then."

Friday evening, you arrive at his door with a bag of clothes and other necessities. When the bell rings, it takes about three seconds before the door swings open.

He greets you in the usual manner, except this time he speaks in a softer tone.

"Hey." He smiles upon seeing you, "Come in."

He steps aside when you walk in, before he takes the bag from your hand. You mutter a small 'thank you', and wait for him in the living room while he puts your things aside.

"You want something to drink?" He offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm fine."

You watch him come near you, before he bends down to his knees. You raise your brows when he tugs your hand towards him, and presses a kiss onto your palm.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" You asked.

"Your boundaries." He squeezed your hand gently, "What's your preferences, what you're not comfortable with,"

"Oh." You look down to your lap to hide your blush, "I don't have any preference yet, I think." You shrug, "I have to experience it to know what I like or dislike, but I think I'm fine with everything you do. Just… don't treat me rough, because I don't think I can handle it."

"Wouldn't dream of hurting you." He pecks on your cheek. "Come,"

You stand from your seat as he pulls you up, and your body follows him naturally as he drags you with him. As he closes the bedroom door behind, your heart leaps when he lifts you up with his arms to kiss you. Your legs wrap around his waist, while you keep your hands on his chest.

When he lays you down on the bed, you push his body away for a little as you mumble, "My, aren't you eager."

He observes your face before he chuckles, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

You moan when he presses his kiss on your neck, and you feel his hand slip under your garment. Soon, the elastic band of your underwear is dragged down on your skin, and you instinctively close your thighs together.

"Let me taste you, (Name)."

He tugs your pants down until they reach your ankles, he takes his time to unhook them from your feet, before pushing your legs apart. You call his name as a protest, but any attempt to cover yourself from him is useless.

"Ky—" You stare at him wide-eyed as he lowers his head to your core, to the point that you can feel his breath against your labia. Your body tenses up when he gets the first taste of you, before he buries his tongue into your core.

"Tell me if I hurt you." He told you, and waited until you nodded to continue.

You gasp when he presses his tongue against your clit—not out of pleasure, but foreign feeling as the rough texture of his tongue latches on your nub. Your hand shoots up to grab his hair, while your legs clamp on his head. He grunts when you squirm away, and links his arms around your thighs to keep you still.

At first, you only feel a strange sensation every time his tongue swipes against your bundle of nerves, but soon it builds up into a familiar surge. Warmth begins to spread from your lower region, and you muffle a moan when he flicks his tongue on your sensitive clit.

"Ky—!" You hissed when it hit the right spot, "Keep going—"

Your hips bucks involuntarily as he sucks on the swelling bud, it sends an electricity through your body, before his lips detach from you. You whine at the loss of contact, but it doesn't take a second before his elastic muscle returns to its previous place.

The grip on his hair tightens as he picks up the pace, and soon the pleasure starts to coil inside your stomach. Your brows are knitted as you focus on his tongue, chasing after the high that's been hanging in front of you. It's not until you tilt your hips, that you finally reach it.

You cry out as your back arches, your eyes snap open as the wave of pleasure hits you. It was different, more satisfying than what you did on lonely nights. As you slowly come down, your body relaxes under his touch.

When he reaches up to kiss you, you chuckle as you taste yourself from his lips. "And you told me you're a virgin." You mused.

"I don't need to lose it to be good at oral."

You roll your eyes and hold him off by his chest, "Yeah right."

He seems taken aback when you push him to the side, before straddling him between your legs. Your hands work on his pants, as you loosen up the drawstring. "What are you doing?" He muttered out.

"Returning the favor." You replied with a smirk, while you tugged down his pants.

You've seen the outline of his member when he's still dressed, but now that you strip him off, you finally get the full view of it.

You sense his gaze on you as you stare at his cock. Your hand reaches out to touch the tip, and it twitches under your fingertips.

"Are you just gonna stare?"

"Patience." You shot him a teasing look, "I was just admiring."

He props himself up to watch you bend down, taking his length into your mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you slowly drag your tongue along the shaft. Your fingers wrap around his base, and begin to give it a pump.

His breath becomes shallower with each stroke of your hand, while you wrap your lips around his cock. The tip feels hot on your tongue, as if it's filled with impatience. He groans as you sink your mouth deeper, "Keep going, baby."

You perk up at the nickname he used, but it needs to wait before you can bring it up to him, since your mouth is occupied at the moment.

He places a hand on your head, and runs his fingers through your hair before they settle on your crown. You grunt when he begins to rock his hips gently, while his hand gives you no room to pull back. He's careful enough not to push too deep, but he still overwhelms you.

"That's it—" He panted, brows knitted together as he focused on you. "Fuck—"

His heavy breath, his gentle grip on your hair send warmth through your body. It's not the first time you've done this, but it's the only time you felt desired. He's eager, but he's careful at the same time. He doesn't rush things, he fixates on the moment instead. When you place your hand on his thigh, he slows down as he loosens up his grip on you.

"You alright?"

You nod before you pull away from him.

"I want to ride you."

His brows are raised as you climb on top of him, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He takes a sharp breath when your core touches the base of his member, leaving a wet trail as you grind on him. You hear a quiet groan from his sighs, and it becomes heavier each time you pick up the pace.

You bite your lip as you feel your core throb at the sight beneath you. The way his head digs into the pillow, half-lidded eyes and panting, and the way his muscles tense as he chases after pleasure. His hands settle on your waists, keeping you from moving too far from the right spot. Your breath comes out as a huff when the friction starts to get to you. It almost feels real, as if he's really inside you.

"I'm close." He chokes out a moan, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. "(Name)—"

Your lips curl into a grin when you hear the urgency in his voice. You lean down to kiss him, and he eagerly returns the favor. You grunt against his mouth, as you struggle to move with his arms wrapped tightly around you. But he doesn't seem to mind the erratic pace, since his hips move on its own.

His body shudders and he throws his head back as he groans, loud enough that you can feel his chest rumble through your palms. His member twitches against your core, spilling the white release onto both of your and his clothes. It takes a moment for him before he registers your lips on his neck, which he tilts his head and leans his cheek against yours.

"That was…"

"Good?" You grinned as you gave him a kiss.

"Great. Amazing. Ten out of ten." He chuckles, "Are you sure you're a virgin?"

You playfully pinch his cheek while you laugh, "Shut up."

He shoots you a coy smile, before he gently rolls you down with him on the bed.

"We should take a bath."

"Later." He muttered, wrapping one arm around you.

"Come on." You protested while tugging his hand off you, "We can cuddle after that."

"Fine," He lets you go, "Let's take a shower."

And he said it in a not-so-innocent voice.

The two of you end up prolonging the bath time, as he's taking you for a second round. If he's eager the first time, the second time must be worse. Since he's got the taste of it. You knew that he's exceptional, that he's a quick-learner, but you didn't expect it'd apply to sex as well.

The thing is, you never came with fingers alone. But when he cornered you in the shower, knuckles-deep in your core, he had you screaming as the sweet shock from the orgasm went through your body. He doesn't give you much of a break, as he bends you down until your ass touches his hip. You gasp in horror when you feel the tip of his dick against your drenched hole, he teasingly rubs himself on your labia, before it slips down to your clit.

He had your thighs pressed together, which made the friction even stiffer. You groan as he begins to thrust, hitting your throbbing bud everytime without mercy. He pins both of your wrists against the wall with one hand, while he keeps your body still with the other. It's almost unfair how strong he is to hold you down like this, and how cruel he is to tease you as he whispers dirty words into your ear. By the time you come, you have no energy left, even for standing.

He catches you right before your legs give up, holding you up while he sneaks a hand under the back of your thighs. You yelp when he props you up in his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom.

You land on the bed with a bounce, and receive no privilege to get up as he holds your legs together, before placing them against his shoulder. The color in your face is drained the moment his length rests on your thigh, fervent and heavy.

"I hope you're not tired yet," He grins, and you swear you see horns growing from his head the moment he says it, "Because I'm nowhere done with you."

—

Kyle Fucking Garrick.

You take back what you said about his middle name. It's not kind or thoughtful, it's fucking Prick.

It should've been obvious to you, after all the gossip you heard from your friends about him. Something that you thought as a baseless fact, a Lavater-physiognomy type of bullshit, but somehow they got it right. He's not as innocent as you defended him to be. He is freaky, and he's good at keeping it a secret.

After he exhausted you the night before, he decided that the best way to wake you up was with his mouth. Your clit was already swollen from yesterday's activity, and he abused it again in the morning. You stirred in your sleep, before your eyes snapped open at the sharp tug on your sensitive bud.

"G'mornin'." He greeted you the moment you woke up, still disoriented. "How's your sleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, as you tried to turn your vision focused. "Wha—" You slurred.

"Shh." He pushed you down to the bed, while his hand worked its way to your fold. "Let me take care of you, baby."

And thus you started your day with an orgasm.

Of course it's only the beginning, since it's him that you're talking about. He could make you faint in the bathroom if you didn't lock the door behind, and he could certainly numb your mind with his fingers if you didn't cut two apples for breakfast. But once you ran out of excuses, you're pretty much doomed.

While you knew he'd stop right away if you told him so, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because once he puts his hand on you, you just melt. The irritation that you carry in mind dissolves the moment he wraps you in his arms, and every curse you hold on your tongue comes out as a whimper, as his mouth latches onto your nape.

It's a game of self-will, and he plays it underhandedly. You both know what you want, but no one speaks of it, no one takes the initiative. You grit your teeth as frustration begins to take over you. It's pretty clear he wants you to say it, with the excuse that it's yours to decide. But he lures you with sweet words, and waves your much-needed release in front of you. Close enough for you to see, but far away from your reach.

And finally, after three neglected orgasms, you swallow your ego and beg. "Please Ky—" You cried out, "Please, just fuck me—"

His hand ceases to move, as he pulls it out of your sopping core. You whine at the loss of contact, before he muffles it with his kiss.

The trip to his bedroom is quite messy, with a lot of thrown clothes and sloppy kisses. When you find yourself on his bed again, you crawl up to give him some space. He follows after you, and presses his lips against yours with impatience. Faintly, you hear the sound of a wrapper being ripped, before he pulls away to roll down the rubber on his length.

He comes back to your side, locking his lips with yours again, while he slots his hips between your legs. Your hands find the purchase on his back as you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin the moment you feel his tip against your hole.

A gasp escapes your lips when he pushes himself in, stretching your pussy open with his dick.

"Shit, you're too tight." He hissed, as your walls tightened around his glans.

Your face contorts in pain, as he tries to squeeze himself deeper.

"No good." He mused, pulling himself out of you. You whimper as your hole clenches around nothing. "On your side, baby."

He gently rolls you to the side, sliding his arm below your head as he lays behind you. He places a hand under your cheek, and guides your lips back to his. You wince when you feel the nudge against your core, before it slowly sinks deeper into you.

It doesn't hurt much, compared to what you endured earlier. But it still stings, and you smack your palm against his hip when he begins to thrust. "Ky—" You moaned against his lips, gripping onto his skin as you felt yourself stuffed to the brim.

"Just a little more, baby." He places a kiss on your shoulder, while his hands find their way to wrap around your body. "Just a little more."

No words could form in your tongue, as your mouth snaps open at the steady thrust of his cock. It was slow, torturous, and left you wondering if you've underestimated his size.

But it soon comes to a stop, as his lower stomach touches the curve of your bottom. Your heart is beating against your chest, and you try to catch your breath while he showers you with kisses. The push of his hips comes to a halt, and you take it as a chance to rest. You lean your head back to his shoulder, giving him access to your neck, which he soon decorates with love marks.

"You alright?" He murmured, tenderly stroked your arm.

You hum as an answer. "You can move now."

"You sure?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "Please."

You sense a hesitation in his touch, before he presses a kiss on your temple.

"Tell me if it hurts."

You nod, giving his forearm a squeeze as a reassurance.

He shifts your body closer to him, readjusting the position to make it more comfortable. You raise your head a bit while he moves, before he guides you back to his arm. A grunt escapes your lips the moment he drags his member out, before he thrusts it back in. Your core flutters around him, as the numbness slowly fades into pleasure.

Perhaps your body is still sensitive from all the teasing he did, but you can't deny that he's good. Every stroke of his cock just hits right, as it grazes you in the place where his fingers couldn't reach. You grip his arm when you feel his pace quickens, filling the room with the wet slaps of the skins. And when his tip nudges the tender part of you, your body reacts in a way you don't expect.

He seems to notice it, as he lifts his head up to see your face. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear, and you yelped when he snapped his hips against yours.

"Oh God—" You scrabble at his body, trying to find something to grab on. "Do that again."

"Gladly."

A warning comes up to your throat, before it dies down as soon as he moves. You squirm against his strong grip, digging your nails into his thigh like a claw machine. When his cock grazes the right spot within you, you cry out a strangled moan. And the second time he does it, the suspicions you had in mind are all erased. He's no longer teasing you, because now he really intends to make you scream.

When he rolls on top of you, you feel your legs being spread apart with his knees. Stretching your pussy open for him to go deeper. With him on top of you, and your stomach flat on the bed, you have no room to crawl away.

His hand snakes around your shoulder, propping you up into a half-arched position. A whimper comes out of your mouth the moment he slams himself into you, while his lips are busy with your neck. Niping and sucking on your reddening skin. Your hand reaches up to the back of his head, gripping the curls of his hair as you moan.

"I'm close." You hissed, "Kyle—"

"I know, baby." He presses a kiss on your nape, "I know."

He raises your hips slightly, before slipping his hand between your thighs. Your body jerks when he touches your clit, rubbing it in a circle motion. The fact that it's already swollen doesn't help you either.

"Ky!" You claw his hand in panic, "I can't—I can't—"

"You can." He grunted against your ear, "Let it go, baby."

Your grip on his wrist tightens, as every muscle in your body tenses up. You could barely hold it when he fucked you slow, and now with his finger on your clit, you just break.

A loud cry fills the room as you come. Hard. Your eyes roll up, hands gripping tightly on the sheet until your fists turn pale. And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, until you gasped for air. Which comes in the form of short and trembling puffs. The moment of bliss and numbness only descends for short seconds, before you realize he's still inside you.

The burning sensation in your core comes back to you, although weaker than before. You whimper against the sheet, as he prolongs the high you just reached. His fingers no longer slotted between your folds, as they move to grip your waist. In daze, you begin to wonder when it'll end. Until you feel a shudder from the body on top of you, and a strangled moan falls from his mouth.

He rests his head on you, catching a breath, before he slowly rolls down to the side. You watch him as he wearily pulls off the condom, and throws it aside.

The two of you lay down still, mustering the energy that's left after the laborious session. Although you doubt if it's the same case for him, since he has no trouble getting up to fetch the tissue box.

As he wipes himself off, you mutter out with a low voice, "You've ruined me for other men."

He turns his head to you, before a grin spreads on his face. "Already thought about leaving?"

You know from his tone that he's not serious, but neither of you can carry the usual banter. At least not now.

"You know what I mean." You mused.

His face softens, as he bends down to kiss you. "I know."

You smile against his lips, and carefully shift your body until you lay on your back. He climbs on top of you, planting each arm on your side as he latches his lips on yours. You reach up to cup his face, pulling him closer as you part your lips, giving his tongue the access to dive into your mouth deeper. The two of you relish in each other's taste, before you feel something on your thigh.

"You're hard." You let slip what you saw, and he flushed.

"Sorry." He rubbed his neck, "You just… turn me on."

You observe his face for a moment, noting how he avoids your eyes whenever he's shy. His expression, and his candid confession set something in you, as you feel the warmth in your lower belly.

"I think we can go one more time."

"Aren't you tired?"

"A little." You replied, "But it's nothing I can't handle."

His eyes search into yours for a second, before he gives in.

"Alright." He uttered, "Let me grab the condom."

—

Now that you've gotten the taste of it, you can understand why sex is often called forbidden apple. Because once you put your teeth to it, you can't go back to what you're used to. No more friendly cuddles, and no more innocent kisses that won't lead to something.

While it's easy to get swept up in the new pastime, you can't help but worry. As a lot of 'what if's fill your thoughts. You never doubt him, no. But you'll never know what the future's like. For you and him.

One day, when the two of you lounge on the couch—with your head on his chest, as it rises and falls in a slowing rhythm, you divulge a question that's been eating you up.

"What if it doesn't work?" You brood, "What if he still wants to marry me despite of everything?"

You watch the subtle change in his face as he meets your gaze. "Do you want me to come along?"

"No," You muse, "It'll make things worse."

He hums, "Have you talked to your parents?"

"... No." You looked away, as you chewed on your lip. "No, I haven't."

"I think you should." He gives your arm a squeeze, "Talk to them, maybe they'll help you."

"They didn't help me at all." You said bitterly.

"You wouldn't know that, (Name)." He let out a quiet sigh, "Parents don't usually tell what they've done for their children. And that could be the case with yours."

"They didn't stop the engagement."

"Maybe they couldn't." He replied, "Hey, look at me." He gently pulls you to face him, "I know it's hard for you, and I can't imagine how you feel about it. But your parents love you, you said it yourself." He reassured you, "Maybe they didn't stop it because they're powerless, but they knew that you'd find a way out. After all, they're the one who told you about the ceremony, right?"

While you're still frowning at him, you begin to soften up in his hold. "... Yeah, they did." You muttered.

"They knew that you're against it and you'd deliberately failed one of the tests, so they just told you what to do and what you shouldn't. It's their way to tell you which one to break, and which one you should keep in mind." He sighs, "And I hate to say it, but I'd do the same if it's the only choice I have."

Though his words have put you at ease, you can't help but sense a new doubt entering your mind. "Will they… will they be okay if I fail the test? Won't it give them a bad name?"

"I think it's the risk they're willing to take." He smiled softly, "Talk to them, (Name). You need it."

You follow his advice two days later.

You've been mulling over the talk for days, going through all of the possibilities over and over again in your mind. You've prepared for a whole speech, but it all disappears once you hear their voices. Just like that, all of your thought falls from your mouth, as they flow out like a stream.

There's a lot of talking, a lot of 'sorry's, and maybe a few of tears. But in the end, you feel better.

As the conversation slips into a mundane, but comfortable chat, you slip his name between your life update. Though you have your doubts about it, it's worth telling in spite of all.

"You should introduce him to us." Your mother chirped, "Bring him with you the next holiday, I want to meet the lucky fellow."

You chuckle as you tell her alright, but no promise.

Four days later, on the evening at the airport, you reach up to kiss him before you say the words. You almost laugh at how easy it was, to say such words with such ease. And he'd laugh with you, if he wasn't struck by it.

"I thought you're afraid to use that word."

"Not anymore." You said with a smile, "Not with you."

He seems confounded for a moment, before he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.

"I hope you won't regret it, because I'll say that to you everyday from now on."

"Well, why don't you start now?"

You both chuckle, before he wraps his hands around you and pulls you into another kiss.

"I love you, (Name).

"Come home to me soon."

#it's finally DONEEEEE #alright. I'm officially done with long fics #it's not healthy for my sleep schedule #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #i'm too lazy to tag more #enjoy

107 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 1 day

Text

Unclean

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!

A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.

You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”

“Yes.”

“Why you still in your dress?”

“It’s still Sunday.”

He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”

You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”

Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.

“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.

“No.”

“Not hungry?”

He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.

Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.

“What was this morning about?”

He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.

“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.

“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”

“Mm.”

Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.

“Little low cut for church.”

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.

He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.

It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.

Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.

“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.

“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.

“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”

He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.

“Your father walks in here without burning.”

Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.

“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.

A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.

He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.

A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-

Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.

Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.

Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.

You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.

This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.

“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.

The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.

A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.

He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.

There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.

“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.

“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.

Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.

“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.

Thank your mom for me.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #My Fic #My Work #Gator Tillman Smut

80 notes · View notes

realbylershit · 3 days

Text

Alright so it’s safe to say that someone is shouting for Steve to run away from something and the first instinct is to be worried for Steve because he would definitely pull the sacrifice play if he had to…but personally I’m a little bit more worried about Robin (or both of them)..let me explain why.

We know Will is there, a source claimed that in fact ‘everyone’ is. But we also know that Millie isn’t, as a picture of her not being on set right now came up. So it’s safe to say that we most likely have a big portion of the cast around during the shoot and not the entire cast.

In the first recording it was pointed out that someone could have been yelling out Mike’s name instead of the first “Steve!” and whereas that’s personal interpretation I can definitely hear it. And I can also hear Will’s voice out of that. Makes sense, right? Will shouting Mike’s name? That would just mean that Mike is present, too. We knew that he and Will would be attached to the hip in season 5 thanks to the foreshadowing in season 4. And we confirmed that there is someone else that will at some point team up with both of them.

Dum dum dum, Robin.

I personally believe it’s only Will shouting but regardless of you believe it to be and who it actuallyis (Dustin or Jonathan perhaps), they’re telling Steve to run, which means that Steve most likely refuses to leave the battle field.

To point another thing out about the video, I also believe that we can hear Steve himself at the very beginning of the recording and he sounds kind of desperate, in my opinion. If I’m not completely crazy I’m pretty sure I can hear a “Let her go!”

So what I’m trying to say is, what if Vecna has Robin and Steve refuses to leave her side and that’s when himself is targeted, which we can hear in the second recording.

I can’t add the video but Maya Hawke has recently talked about Robin’s arc in season 5 and stated that she’s more involved in the supernatural stuff than ever and finding friends and looking for love.

I find it really hard to believe that they are going to kill off Steve, Dustin’s second father/big brother figure after doing it to Eddie in season 4. I’m pretty sure they introduced him so they didn’t have to kill Steve. Besides, Steve means a lot to most people in the group whereas Robin is probably the least connected person as she’s the newest, meaning that her death would hit everyone, but it wouldn’t break them like Steve’s death would- except for Steve himself.

It’s clear to me and probably most people that Will is going to suffer plenty next season and him making friends with Robin and then losing her to Vecna right away would definitely hit home. And because he already lost Robin, he doesn’t want to lose Steve too.

Just another small theory I wanna throw into the mix:

Will shouting for everyone to run reminds of him telling Joyce to run through the lights in season 1. Despite being in the upside down, he found a way to help Joyce by telling her to run. I’m thinking that in this scenario Vecna might have him trapped somehow, in a way that results him being cut off from the others in some way that they can’t hear him? As in basically torturing him because he can’t help his friends out, who possibly don’t see Vecna coming, and has to watch them die. That at least would explain even more why he’s the one yelling…

#byler #stranger things #will byers #st season 5 #st 5 theories #mike wheeler #steve harrington #robin buckley #byler tumblr #byler endgame

68 notes · View notes

revengeghoulette · 3 days

Text

Matcha Latte w/Rose

Part 2: The Date

They go on their date!!

A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.

WC: 3k

Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul

It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.

Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses.

On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together.

Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.

“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.

“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.

“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”

After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”

Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”

Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”

Swiss nods slowly.

Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”

Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand.

Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together.

They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more.

‐

With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books.

Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.

“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties.

Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge.

He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”

Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?”

“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet.

After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday.

Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.

He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.

In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot.

He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out.

They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently.

“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain.

“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”

After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.

“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.

“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”

“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions.

“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.

Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6.

Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks.

Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.”

Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.

“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires.

“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”

After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.

“Swiss, what are we doing here?”

“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”

Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them.

“Swiss… how?”

“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.

They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood.

As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later.

“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him.

“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.”

“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”

Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter.

“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”

Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.”

Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead. It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”

Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.

Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes.

“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains.

That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath.

Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace.

“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.

Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.

Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.

“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined.

“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone.

Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls.

Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.

They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly.

“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants.

Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.

Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.

“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick.

The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.

Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven.

“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”

Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting.

Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.

Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert.

“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”

Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it.

Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him.

“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages.

Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.

“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.”

“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”

“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”

Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean.

“And I love you, Mountain.”

After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.

“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”

“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.

Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.

“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside.

Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door.

“Fuck.”

He exhales as tears roll down his face.

Part 3, soon, sorry

#revenge works #Matcha Latte #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost the band #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #mist ghoulette #sunny ghoulette #steamy make out session #angst?#barista swiss #professor mountain #coffee shop au #my fic #idk if that was a good dinner to serve but whatever #i dont go on dates

71 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 3 days

Text

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 2, chapter 6- eviction notice

Series masterlist

Warnings- This one’s a lot more jj centered, but some rafe and reader moments (: two exes still pining for each other Is my favorite

Summary: you’re finally back home, the pogues missed you and Rafe can’t get over you

A knock on the door interrupted your nightly routine, you sighed, standing up and opening the door.

“Hi.” You said, a little shocked at Rafe’s appearance this late.

“Okay, so…” he pushed past you, sitting down on the bed, next to you. “we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“You mean… back to Kildare?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I- I already asked if you could use a phone, but, my dad doesn’t really trust you right now. But… I can…” he sighed. “I can see if I can try and email one of them or something.“

You nodded at him. He stood up, going to the door before you called his name.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at you.

“Thank you.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he walked back home. When he got there, he saw yellow tape on the door, along with an eviction notice. Going up with furrowed eyebrows, he held back tears.

“What?” He mumbled, confused. You told him that you were paying for it, that you were just staying at Ricky’s because you couldn’t bear to be at the house. Not because you lost it.

He looked on the back when he saw some marker bleed through, you had written on it.

“I’m sorry, JJ.” You scrawled out on it, he saw some tear stains on the paper as well. With a small sigh, tears threatening to spill, he entered through the window, grabbing the pills from the counter, sitting on the couch, and throwing them.

He ran his hands over his face, beginning to cry into them while taking a sip of the beer his dad had left.

He was outside, fixing his bike with Kiara came up behind.

“Eviction notice. For like, non payment or whatever. My sister didn’t even tell me.” He stood up, facing her now. He sighed, looking back at the house.

“Doesn’t matter. This place sucks anyway. Great to be back in the outer banks, right?”

“So get this. I uh, had an email waiting for me when I got home. John B actually found Big John. He’s alive..”

JJ paused, turning his head to Kiara now.

“Seriously?”

Kiara nodded. “Yeah. He’s at the Chateau.”

JJ smiled, standing up again. “Damn.”

“Yeah, he thinks we’re close to the same treasure Singh was talking about.”

JJ nodded, sniffling as he grabbed a towel.

“Hey, look. My parents didn’t even wanna let me out of the house. But I told them I had to come check on you.”

“Well, it’s not me you have to worry about.” He exhaled.

“JayJ, what’s up? Is it something Pope said? I know he’s not all obsessed about what happened between me and him. We’re both past that, but something’s bugging you. And it’s not just your sister.”

“It was just weird, what almost happened on the boat with us. It was just weird.” He said, inhaling.

“Yeah, Yeah, I mean it was… it was weird for me too, but… not bad weird.”

“No. Not bad weird.” He came closer to her, the both of them staring at each other.

“What are we doing?” He asked, heart picking up. “What are we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, nah.” He repeated, moving his face away from hers, walking away. “We shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah..”

“We shouldn’t!”

“If you say so.”

“I mean, it would like all blow up anyway. You know? Like…” he panted. “Look at you. You got your new threads on, look at me what do I got? This?” He pointed to the house. “This piece of shit?!” He picked up a rock, throwing it at the house.

“Getting kicked out of this place in like a week anyways. Shit, I don’t got parents right now, or my sister. Why would you care? Why would you care? I’m just some loser that- that-“ he stuttered.

“jj…”

“You don’t do care.”

“I do-“

“No, you don’t!”

“I do care!” She argued.

“No, you got parents that live in figure 8, you know? You know… you…”

“That’s not my fault.”

“That’s your future. You got that.” He walked away again, his hands on the back of his head.

“Look if you need us, we’re gonna help you. I’m… I’ll help.”

“It’s that right there! Okay? Like- it’s so easy for you to say that. You know why? Because you’re a kook. You’re a kook, Kiara!”

She nodded, looking down. “Yeah, I’m a kook. I was such a kook when I was living in a cave with you for a month. Soaking in the kook life.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. God!” He threw on his hat, getting on his bike, and starting the engine.

“JayJ, don’t leave.”

He didn’t listen, just ran away. The only thing he knew how to do.

On the dock, he paced, staring out, even breaking it and throwing things down, kicking and throwing shit.

He paused, looking over you sleeping for a moment. You looked peaceful. He missed this. He would do anything if it meant he could have you so peaceful like that with him again.

It would take time, though. Even Rafe knew that.

“Rise and shine,” Rafe spoke, hitting your shoulder to wake you up.

You mumbled something incoherently, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up with a yawn.

When you opened your eyes, you had a small smile at the sight of the island. Finally.

His eyes were set on you, while you looked out at the island.

When you got to Tannyhill, you helped Rafe with the boat and went up the dock.

Rafe lead you to to the front, both of you standing in front of each other now.

“Thanks, again.” You told him, staring into his baby blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off.

“You know, Rafe, you could be a really good man when you try.” You told him when you began to walk away.

He rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his features when you turned. “Whatever.”

But when you left, you spotted Sarah leaving as well.

“Sarah?” You questioned, making her turn to you.

She said your name, her tone confused and shocked.

“Holy shit, y/n?!” Kiara practically shouted when you came up on the boat with Sarah. You smiled at her, and she came up and embraced you.

“Hey, Kie.” You said with a laugh,

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to push you off-“

“It’s fine. I know.” You shrugged.

“I went to go grab some clothes and a phone, and I found her, but…”

“Rafe is back.” You finished her sentence.”And the cross is coming back. To Wilmington tomorrow night. I heard him on the phone yesterday.”

“And I heard him not that long ago.”

“What?” She looked at Sarah and back at you.

“I was gonna tell Pope at the Chateau.”

“He can’t. He’s on lockdown.”

“Okay, um… then.. I’ll hit up Pope, and then maybe you go to the Chateau and tell John B. And JJ?”

Kiara swallowed at that.

“Wait, is he.. at the chateau?” You asked them.

Kiara shrugged. “I don’t know. He blew up on me earlier. He… uh.. was at the house.”

“Shit..” you murmured.

JJ pulled up to the Chateau, whistling for John B. You stood up, Kiara was inside, not wanting to intrude on you two.

“JJ.” You spoke quietly.

He turned around at the sound of your voice. He whispered your name, repeating it louder now as he came up to you.

He wrapped his arms around you, tears falling down his face.

“Holy shit. You’re- you’re-“

“Yeah.” You laughed, tears falling down your own face now.

“You didn’t tell me we got evicted. I would- I would have helped..” he told you, looking at your face now.

“I didn’t want you to. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You shook your head feverishly. “I’m saving up for a better house, now.”

He smiled and shook his head again.

“I missed you so much, dude.” He said, pulling you in for another hug.

Kiara came out, waiting. He turned to Kiara now, clearing his throat and wiping his tears.

“Is uh… John B not here?” He asked with a sigh.

“Nope.”

Kiara cleared her throat, cutting through the awkward silence.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, Rafes what’s up.” Kiara spoke.

“He’s back on the island, JJ.” You continued her sentence. “He said he’s staying for a little, for business or some shit.”

“Spectacular.” He said sarcastically.

“It’s not just that. I overheard him saying the cross is coming into Wilmington tomorrow. Wards trying to sell it.” You said.

“Great. Does Pope know?”

“Yeah. Sarah went to tell him. He’s locked down.” Kiara told him. “And I guess John B and his dad went and got the Twinkie. They’re off to God knows where.” Kiara handed him the envelope.

“Yeah, of course. Just when we need them.” He threw his hands up, staring out into the water.

“Wait, hold on though.” He stopped, turning to you both now. “We know where the cross is gonna be. That means it’s still on the field. Okay, alright. So we can come in and swoop, we’re still in this. We gotta get everybody together, then we’ll come up with a plan. Get our asses to Wilmington.”

Kiara looked at you. You urged her as he walked away.

“Hey, hey, JJ, before we can formulate some crazy plan, can we talk?” Kiara spoke, catching up to him.

JJ took a deep breath, talking was never really his thing.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”

“Something almost happened. Between us on the boat.”

“Mmm-hmm..”

“And I know that’s got to freak you out. It caught me off guard too. And I know, your whole life, I know you freak when people get close, and I get it. I don’t blame you.”

He looked away, because he knew she was right.

“Just please don’t ever say that I don’t care about you. And you called me a kook…”

“Okay, well, hold on-“ he started.

“Which is lame.”

“I know. That was lame..”

“It was uncalled for. Yeah, it’s a low blow.”

“All right, Kie. Look, Kie,” he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right. I flipped. You know how I be. Just uh.. just… look. We should just… just call it a truce. Just.. etch a sketch it. Clean slate. Truce?”

“Truce.” She held her hand out.

“So, how we gonna jack this cross?” You came up to them suddenly, both of them jumping at you.

“Jesus! You just got back and you’re already trying to give me a heart attack?”

don’t like this chapter too much ugh

Tag list:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #obx series #jj obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #dre

60 notes · View notes

onceuponapuffin · 2 days

Text

Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!

Beginning || Previous || Next

*****************

You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.

There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.

Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.

Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.

“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.

After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.

“Thanks,” You say.

“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.

“What happened?” Anathema asks.

Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.

“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”

“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”

Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:

“Why did you take the coffee?”

You all look at her, surprised.

“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”

“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”

“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”

“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”

“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”

“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”

Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.

“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”

-----------

The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.

Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.

“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”

“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”

Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”

“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.

“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”

Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.

“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.

They like holding hands – your insides scream.

--------

When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.

The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.

“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.

-------

The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.

“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.

“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”

“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”

“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”

“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”

“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”

You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.

The Royal Suite.

“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.

“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”

“But this is ridiculous!”

Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.

“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”

“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”

Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.

36 notes · View notes

todomitoukei · 2 days

Text

Bnha Season 7 Interview: Shimono Hiro (Dabi) and Uchiyama Koki (Shigaraki)

Animate Times released an interview with the Japanese voice actors for Dabi (Shimono Hiro) and Shigaraki (Uchiyama Koki) to talk about season 7, which will begin to release in May.

Below is a quick translation of the interview, where they reflect on their characters' developments, season 6 and talk a bit about the upcoming season.

Q = Question UK = Uchiyama Koki (Shigarki’s VA) SH = Shimono Hiro (Dabi’s VA)

Q: Looking back to season 6, what are some of the most memorable scenes?

UK: Season 6…

SH: There were too many. For me, it’s definitely "Dabi’s Dance" (ep. 124). It was really painful that I couldn't say anything until then! It was the moment when I could finally let it out. Just as Touya was training at Sekoto Peak over and over again, I read the original story many times. Various things happened in season 6, but I think "Dabi’s Dance" is the best.

Q: What was the recording process like at that time?

SH: I recorded it together with Inada Tetsu (Endeavor) and Kaji Yuki (Shouto). More than anything, I was looking forward to the fight scene with Endeavor and Shouto in “Dabi’s Dance”, so I approached the recording with the feeling that regardless of the order or how many times I had to perform the sequence of events, I would do it. So when the recording was over I thought “It’s already over? Are we only recording this 2-3 times?” I always felt restricted when playing Dabi and wasn’t sure how to play him. He’s not the loud type and even though I don’t know what he’s thinking, but he says things that seem to make sense (laughs).

Q: You were exploding with feelings in “Dabi’s Dance”, right?

SH: I enjoyed that confession. And I think he had to block those complex feelings inside of him, so now he can only think of throwing everything inside of him against his father.

UK: Yeah.

SH: To me, because Dabi has died once before, he doesn’t think about continuing to live or what happens after he reaches his goal. That is why he goes by “Dabi”. That is why he can do nothing but think about throwing his entire strength, body, and soul at this.

Q: So there are no changes in performances in season 7?

SH: No. I’m glad we’re able to produce various things.

Q: Aside from “Dabi’s Dance”, “The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire” (ep. 130) is also quite memorable.

SH: When I read the manga, I came to understand “so this was the reason”. Aside from Dabi, the LOV members each have their personal story. To me, a feeling of “Aren’t we (the villains) right? Aren't they righteous?” developed when I saw that.

Q: Surely, when I watched the villains’ stories, that much conviction was conveyed.

SH: It holds a different weight, doesn’t it? That is to say, I wonder with what kind of feeling towards us the heroes will arrive at the final battle. At the current stage, the villain’s feelings are stronger and they are fairly strong, too. We are sure to win (laughs).

Q: Uchiyama, do you also think you will defeat the heroes?

UK: Of course, that has been my intention since my first appearance. I think some of the viewers and readers don’t think well of me because of my position as villain, but I play my characters with the thought that the characters act based on their beliefs.

Q: Uchiyama, how do you feel looking back on season 6?

UK: When I read the manga, I was impressed by the development of Shigaraki being taken over by All For One. At the same time, I wondered how it would be portrayed in the anime. There was one scene where I had to put my voice on top of Otsuka Akio (All For One). That was a difficult part to perform, so that left a big impression on me.

Q: What was the recording like?

UK: Otsuka recorded it first, so I listened and traced the recording at home. When I heard his recording, I felt the strength of the material and the way of his inflection was unique. I remember hearing his voice over and over again.

Q: Once again, what is your impression of each other’s character?

UK: When he first appeared, I wondered whether Dabi would become our friend [TL note: the word he used is nakama, which can be translated as companion, friend, partner, etc.] from now on, he was a constant mystery. While I had a feeling that many things would be revealed after that, I still had a feeling that he was mysterious.

Q: When he first appeared (in the anime) his true identity still hadn’t been revealed in the manga yet.

SH: As the performer, I would’ve liked to be told, because I also kept thinking he is such a mystery (laughs).

UK: That’s right. He was also allowed to move fairly freely within the LOV, so he would suddenly disappear and whatnot. I also found that to be very mysterious.

Q: Being allowed to move freely might mean that Shigaraki trusts him to a certain degree, right?

UK: I wonder. The members of the LOV, especially during the early days, didn’t match friendship or bonding at all. So it’s hard to tell whether there was a feeling of trust.

SH: Rather than a relationship of trust, it’s more a correspondence of interests. While there are people that try to accomplish something with everyone, there are also people like Dabi. I think that freedom is the good thing about the LOV.

Q: Shimono, what is Shigaraki like from your point of view?

SH: It might just be my own personal impression, but I think that before fusing with All For One, Shigaraki was a little cuter [TL note: the word here is used kawairashisa, which is slightly different from kawaii in that it’s a bit more objective. A cuteness that everyone can see rather than being based on one’s feelings].

UK: Well, certainly in the early stages he seemed more juvenile.

SH: That’s right. While there was a time when he was childish and cute when talking to Dabi, he isn’t cute [TL note: here he just uses the negative form of kawaii lol] at all anymore (laughs).

Q: laughs

UK: He has ended up becoming a properly adult man.

SH: Adult man (laughs). But he has someone transcended, hasn’t he? Dabi has for the most part too, but……….

UK: It’s because Shigaraki lived despite being met with Prominence Burn.

SH: Right, right. That’s how strong his attachment to what he himself wants to accomplish must be.

Q: Has there been any change in your performance during the series?

UK: Because the series has been continuing for a long time, while continuing with the impression of the characters up until now, changes get added alongside the story. As Shimono mentioned before, the inside of the characters changed and during important parts so did their appearance, so I changed my acting accordingly. I am now quite aware of his strength due to his strong physique. In the early days, I was also very aware of his juvenility, so the way I voice him and all is different now.

SH: I have been accumulating things until season 6 and thought about how to get them out. When that time finally came, I had a lot of fun. I thought: “I can finally talk a lot!” All the more because as a voice actor, I had to continue not to talk or raise the excitement. I think there will be more suffering and pain now. I myself try not to fall behind on taking care of my throat.

Q: What are some things to look out for in season 7?

UK: I think the battle with Star and Stripe in the early parts is a highlight. Shigaraki is struggling against his opponent Star and Stripe, so his ego is still being shaken. It was a challenge for me to portray the new character from the fusion of Shigaraki and All For One, but it was tough since the battle began at full throttle.

Q: The battle with Star and Stripes looks even more animated than before, doesn’t it.

UK: The battle was very interesting in the manga, so I was very surprised by how they animated it. I want you to look forward to watching it, because from the animation to the character of Star and Stripe herself, there are many strong highlights.

Q: What about you, Shimono?

SH: After “Dabi’s Dance” we learn that Dabi = the oldest son of the Todoroki family, and now he has to fight his dad and little brother again. We’re about to reach the final battle, and when I read the manga I was overcome with many feelings. But I thought that if I’m concerned about that, I might not be able to play Dabi. Even if I had to break my throat, in any case I was ready to give it my all.

Q: I am looking forward to what kind of feelings Shouto will hold during this.

SH: When everyone, including Dabi, felt hopeless, only Shouto hadn’t lost his hope. Now, Shouto is trying to defeat Dabi with his own determination and honest feelings, so I want you to pay attention to the relationship between Dabi and Shouto.

Q: I think there will be changed on the villain side during season 7?

SH: There are again characters whose backgrounds are being shown.

UK: I think I can show even more strength as Shigaraki.

SH: The villains have the upper hand to begin with, so I wonder what kind of resolution will be drawn from here on.

UK: They are superior, aren’t they?

SH: What will the story of each of their battles be, like the one between Dabi, Endeavor and Shouto? I want you to pay attention to things like the clash of feelings.

Q: How do you feel about seeing the heroes outnumbered?

UK: The hero side is crumbling, isn’t it?

Everyone: (laughs)

UK: It’s a situation where you can’t see the light. Since it’s also shown that each country is reluctant to send their heroes to Japan, because protecting their own countries is important, I think that aspect also conveys that Japan is in a very difficult situation. Rather, the hero side has no more cards to play.

SH: It sure is falling apart, isn’t it?

UK: It’s already a certain victory (laughs).

#interview #japanese #translation #bnha #s7 #dabi #shigaraki #lov #they just get it #i knew shimono would have an absolute blast with that reveal scene and everything that follows lmao #but also please dont hurt your throat #Todoroki #Lov #League of villains

35 notes · View notes

lunajay33 · 2 days

Text

Change Part.6

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about

“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair

“Sorry did I wake you?”

“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”

“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too

“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip

“Nothing”

“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”

I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him

“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”

“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me

“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest

I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID

Caller ID: Jackson L/N

“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker

“Hello?”

“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing

“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”

“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face

“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”

“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged

“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”

“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up

I looked at feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life

“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket

“Why am I never good enough for them?”

“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”

As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while

“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder

“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him

“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek

“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”

“Promise”

He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line

“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked

“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering

“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew

“God when do I catch I break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked

“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori

“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide

“What?” I asked confused

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it”

“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back

“Thanks, that’s help a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”

“How far along are you?”

“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”

“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”

Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits

“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp

“I’d love to”

I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable

“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing

“Doubt it”

“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks

“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt

I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders

“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back

“How about just below my shoulder”

“That’s quit a chop”

“Well I need it”

She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done

“Well what do you think?”

“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile

“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him

“It suits you perfect dear”

“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”

I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen

I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here

“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants

“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake

I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”

“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault

“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly

He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill

“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in

“Still can’t believe yer my girl”

“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”

“Never”

“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off

“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp

“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer

“Leave me alone Ed”

“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”

“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”

He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face

“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm

Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground

“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp

“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”

“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”

I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck

Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something

“Where’s Merle?”

Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove

35 notes · View notes

batfamhyperfixation · 2 days

Text

So Jason died and Bruce mourned, falling into a depressive state and overall not doing well. Then Tim came into the picture to help him like he did and eventually became Robin. Then Jason was resurrected.

But imagine if Bruce was finally getting better, Tim has been taking over the role of robin and Bruce wasn’t as depressed as he was at the beginning, it wasn’t great but it was manageable, and then Bruce gets a phone call,

“Hey Bruce, I-I don’t know what’s happening and I’m scared, can you come get me?” To which Bruce asks who it is, getting the response “It’s Jason, Bruce. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, and everything hurts. I just want to go home.” And Bruce hangs up. His son is dead, he can’t be calling.

Jason calls again, more insist and desperate, leaving voicemails when Bruce stopped picking up. Bruce tells Tim, who thinks it is a prank caller, a messed up one at that, so Bruce blocks the number.

Jason, confused and scared, gets convinced if he can just find Bruce, get to him, everything will be ok. He gets to Gotham, only to find quite a bit of time has passed. How did that happen? Bruce probably thought he went missing! He has to find him. But as he is roaming the streets of Gotham, he comes across tvs showing the news, Batman and Robin arrested a criminal last night, but how could that be? He was Robin! Then it dawns on him, he had been replaced. Bruce wanted nothing to do with him. He had blocked his calls and he had gotten a new robin, how much clearer does he need to get? Something in him broke, and suddenly his vision was as white as the streak that had formed in his hair, he lost control, didn’t come to until he was at the boy’s throat, Tim, his replacement

He had to get out. Eventually he formed the outlaws, he got away. Slowly but surely the severed ties started to mend, trust started to get rebuilt, and sure there were still sore spots (i.e. killing the joker) but it was getting better between Jason and Bruce.

Then Jason is hurt, in trouble. Bruce went into a desperate panic searching for him, he couldn’t lose Jason, not again. Finally the Justice league tracked them, and Bruce was the first ready to go. The justice league was gonna have him stay behind because he hadn’t slept well in days and he was hardly in a good enough place to be out in the field, but this was his kid, he demanded to be part of the ground crew. When he finally reached Jason, he was livid, cradling his 6’4” hurt child, trying not to get upset when he asked “Jason, why didn’t you call me?” It wasn’t so much a real question as a plea, ‘Jason, all I wanted was for you to call me, I wish you called me, I wish you let me protect you.’

And Jason, probably slightly delirious, whimpers out “I called you, I called you so many times, but you kept hanging up. I needed your help and you just kept hanging up. Why don’t you love me anymore? I promise I’m the same. I know you think the pit changed me, that I’m broken now, but I promise it’s still me, so why did you have to hang up? I know you have Tim now, but I still need you. You’re still supposed to protect me.” And bruce is so confused, until for the first time in years he thinks about that prank caller, but it wasn’t a prank caller, was it?

#this got away from me #got quite long and angsty #2 days late for Jason’s anniversary oops let’s pretend this was 2 days ago #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd robin #jason todd headcanon #been a while since I’ve written anything Jason focused

42 notes · View notes

fxrmuladaydreams · 3 days

Text

i love you (po5)

pato x introverted!reader

summary: feelings begin to rise after the barber race

wc: 716

notes: this is just me trying this (writing for indycar) out! pls be nice, i’ve only watched a few races and am still learning what’s what. also i promise i’m working on the george story!!

You winced at the screen in front of you, watching as Pato’s car came in contact with Pietro’s, sending the Rahal into the barrier. You hold a hand in front of your mouth as you watch Pato continue driving, grateful that he was okay.

You know he’s going to be upset about the penalty, the radio message coming through your headphones confirms that. He sounds frustrated, angry even.

You know he wanted to do well. For his career obviously, but you knew a small part of him wanted to do well for you. You were still fairly new to Indycar, having watched races from home, sometimes yours, mostly his after he told you he liked having you there when he got home.

This was only the second race you’d attended in person, the first being the previous week in Long Beach. You and Pato had a private relationship. He knew you were more introverted and didn’t want to force you into the limelight before you were comfortable. He was ecstatic when you told him you were ready to attend a race with him. After spending almost a year together, slowly building your relationship, he was excited to finally be able to show you off and introduce you to his other love, racing.

He kept an arm around you during the race weekends, giving you his Arrow McLaren hat to wear while he was driving. He introduced you to the team and showed you his car, rambling on about different things while you smiled and nodded along.

You could tell he was disappointed to finish in the midfield in Long Beach, and seeing him angrily get out of his car after the Barber race you knew he was equally if not more upset.

You stand quietly to the side while he talks with his engineer, following behind him as he walks to the driver lounge.

He keeps quiet as he unzips his race suit, letting it fall to his waist. He searches through a cabinet, finally pulling out a snack, and another he tosses to you.

You don’t know what to say to him, afraid of how he’ll respond. He speaks first though.

“Sorry it was a shitty weekend.” His eyes don’t meet yours as he sits down.

You sigh, sitting next to him. “That penalty was bullshit.”

He looks up at you surprised. He could probably count the amount of times he’d heard you curse on one hand. “It happens.” He shrugs.

“No, it’s not like you wanted to hit him, because why the hell would you want that? And they made you drive through the pit, dropping you down so far you were driving by yourself!”

The scowl on his face slowly disappears, turning into a smile as you keep talking to him, angrily defending your boyfriend.

“They need to open their damn eyes and watch a replay-”

“I love you!” Pato laughs.

You freeze, your eyes widening at the man sitting next to you. “You… what?”

It’s then that Pato realizes what he’s said. He wonders if he should backtrack, attempt to take it back to make the terrified look on your face go away. But it’s as if someone plays a video of your relationship in his mind, showing him all the time you’ve spent together and how you’ve grown with one another.

“I love you.” He says quietly. A blush covers his cheeks as he looks down at his lap. “I wanted the first time I told you to be special, but it just kinda came out just now.” He looks back up at you and sheepishly smiles. “Look, you don’t have to say it back, I know we’re taking things slow, and even having you here was a big step so I understand if-”

It’s him who’s cut off this time as you press your lips to his. You gently hold his face in your hands, pulling away to look into his eyes.

“I love you too.” You murmur.

He grins before leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’m gonna win one soon. A real win, not because someone DQ’ed, and it’s gonna be for you.” He says when he pulls himself away from you, keeping an arm wrapped around you tightly, as if he’s not planning on letting you go.

#pato o’ward x reader #pato oward x reader #indycar x reader

39 notes · View notes

devouredbyflame · 2 days

Text

If Deities came to speak with humans face-to-face, most modern polytheists would be wrong.

If called down, Deities would actually be capable of making our lives easier when it comes to working with Them and listening for Their voices. The reason why it’s so hard for people to listen for the Gods is because people don’t necessarily know how important it is to develop their own personal relationship with the Divine.

We are so, so worried about being wrong and we look to other people to tell us which way we go. But there are very few experienced practitioners, even fewer effective teachers (if any at this point) and it is the blind leading the blind.

In all of my years of working with Loki, every single time I had a problem with discernment, it was always due to other people telling me I’m wrong or that their opinion was more important than my intuition. And I believed them because they seemed more knowledgeable. My beliefs I held strongly to in the beginning of my devotion to Him were always bent down by other people thinking they know more than me even though years later, they turned out to be truer than the thoughts I had after I was in a community.

You can call it beginner’s luck, but after years of seeking community, His voice became quieter and quieter. It was when I left pagan groups that I became explicitly aware of what He actually wanted from me. Confirmations started happening, the energy became denser, and things just magically started to work out that never did before and I could hear His voice speak to me in ways I didn’t think were possible prior to this reawakening.

I’m not saying we should be without community, but community resources need to be rewritten to accommodate the fact that us in the West know very little about working with the Gods. We used to. But we have no context for it anymore within society.

We can try to reconstruct a dead culture because you feel like yours is lacking but unless you’re actually receiving direct correspondence with the Divine, you will likely be unlucky in finding Their truest nature.

24 notes · View notes

yourmomsemogarlicbread · 2 days

Text

Club Lights And Sex On The Beach

PART 1

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drinking, one-night stands/hookups, smut, penetrative sex, drunken sex (still consensual), protected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), afab reader, feminine terms of endearment used, pretty much a female reader but you could get away with it not imagining the reader as a woman.

Summary: After a fun night at the club you run into a handsome stranger and his friends. What happens when you end up in his bed?

Authors Note: This is a multichapter series!!!!!!! This is only part 1 but we are gonna get into a full-fledged story pretty soon. I will be posting parts 2 and 3 later tonight because they are both pretty short. If you choose this could be read as a one-shot but I strongly recommend following the series. I hope you enjoy it!!! also, remember that my requests are always open!

you can also read on AO3 here.

Part 1

The lights came down harshly on your skin, illuminating the dim room just a tad more. The club is decently packed, and a small crowd of people at the beginning of the night quickly turns into a bustling scene full of college girls looking for either a good time or a quick fuck, either way, it’s still fun. Then there were the rowdy frat boys either being annoying or harassing girls at the bar, either way, they were douchebags.

One type stood out to you though, it was a small group of guys, but they were different. You couldn’t help but notice these men, they were talking with each other at their fancy booth in the back of the club. There were 4 of them, all devilishly handsome you had to admit, but one of them shined particularly bright. You saw him frequent the bar throughout the night, until now.

You feel a force bump into you from the side, not hard but forceful enough for you to spill a little bit of your drink on the bar. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart are you ok” you hear from beside you, a charming voice guiding you. And there he is, your mystery man you’ve had your eye on all night.

“Oh yeah I’m fine don’t worry about it.” You nearly yell above the loud music to him.

“Well it looks like you spilled your drink,” He says, making you look at the reminisce of your drunken reflexes failing you.

“Don’t worry about it it’s ok” You smile at him, and in return, he looks directly into your eyes. His brown eyes caused a shift in your stomach, piercing your soul while comforting you in a delightful mix of emotions.

“Well, I can stop worrying about it if you let me buy you a drink.” The clever way to buy a girl a drink. You sigh, “Well crap, I guess I gotta let you buy me a drink now.” You laugh out. “Why thank you,” he says, leaning over the bar and ordering sex on the beach. “Sex on the beach? how’d you know?” he looks back over at you with a smug grin strewn across his face, bewitching you even more. “I saw you ordering it when you first walked in.” Oh. So he was staring at you the whole night, interesting, I guess a smart girl’s intuition never fails. “Well thank you for noticing, Mr-” “Kiszka, but it would be best if you called me Josh.” “Well thank you very much, Josh, nice to meet you.” You smile back at him and for a moment you can feel lust piercing through you like you’ve been shot by Cupid himself. Who knew an arrow through the heart could feel so good?

The rest of the next 40 or so minutes flew by in a hurricane of lustful glances and drunken introductions set in the brightly dimmed nightclub you found yourself in. Meeting his friends, those 4 guys you kept in mind to be specific. Their names were Jake, who just so happened to be the twin of Josh, (is it bad you’ve always dreamt of having a thing with a set of twins?) and their little brother Sam, accompanied by their friend Danny. And my god were they the epitome of beauty and grace, their suave presence somehow lighting up the dim nightclub. But then the next thing you knew, you were making out with Josh in the back alley waiting for an Uber.

The ride back to his apartment was tense but uneventful in respect of the poor Uber driver who had probably dealt with enough drunk people tonight already. The sexual tension was overflowing from the backseat where you both resided, his hand on your thigh resting ever so gently with all the passion and care in the world.

Then the car stopped, his hand quickly unbuckling your seatbelt for you and grabbing your hand, leading you out onto the sidewalk in front of a lavish apartment building, the ones you see celebrities come out of in staged paparazzi photo shoots. You felt his hand snake around your waist leading you into the lobby encrusted with marble and the stench of rich people wasting money because they can. Who were you about to sleep with? God only knows but you know for a fact you got lucky.

The makeout session in the elevator was heated, so much so that you barely paid attention to the fact the elevator went straight into a hall with only 5 or 6 doors, with Josh leading you down the short hall straight into his apartment, or more so what looked like to be a penthouse. You didn’t get a great look at it though - through the lips on lips and hands and waists it was hard to pay attention to detail.

He broke your kiss in what felt like hours, arguably the best of your life. You’re led into his bedroom quickly, He playfully drags you into the room, pushing you onto the bed. You spread your legs for him, butterflies swirl in your core. You watch as he starts to slow down, pulling his shirt over his head. He puts his knee in between your legs climbing over you on the bed. Your lips collide once more, desperate and lustful. You moan into it, quickly making work of his pants, pulling them down to his thighs. You can feel him through his boxers, already harder than ever. He slides his hand up your thigh, slowing towards the hem of your dress. He stops briefly, “Can I?” you only respond by lifting your hips and starting to pull it off, he stops you and pushes your hips back down with proximity while pulling it off, throwing it somewhere into the dark room, only lit by the moonlight shining in through the ceiling high window.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, all you feel is warmth. Josh’s body presses up against yours again, lips and tongues intertwined making your head spiral, hell you had just met this guy an hour ago. This was way more fun than you thought you’d have tonight. A random man named Josh, his 3 best friends are hot - and you got to meet them, this guy is probably rich as fuck, and my god was he good.

He pulls away briefly losing the shorts and boxers. You can see his tip already red and leaking, he leans over you, continuing a loss you had such a brief moment ago. He reaches down underneath your hips and tears your underwear off, throwing it aside. The hold he has on your hips is strong, a sickeningly lustful feeling going straight to your head. He breaks away, “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asks, almost breathless. “It’d be nice,” you say, catching your breath as well. He smiles and reaches over you to the nightstand grabbing one and tearing it open and putting it on swiftly. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you. Josh laughs through the kiss, his chuckle soon turns into a moan as he kisses down your neck. “Can I fuck you?” is all he manages to breathe out. “God, please.” you moan.

Your gut and head both turn to jelly as he enters you, not too slow, not too hard, and not too fast.

God, he’s good.

You feel the vibrations of his moan on your neck, mixed with the vibrations of yours coming from the same source. You can’t help but let it all out, moans and whimpers and all the beautiful sounds of sex fill up this room. His hips are snapping into yours, picking up the pace, brutally. He leans back, never losing stamina. Josh grips your hips, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. He slides up to your upper thighs, pulling them apart while he kneels in front of you, throwing the back of your knees over his shoulders, making a new angle and another powerful sensation. You feel a coil start to form in your midgut, stronger than anything before it. “Fuck, I’m close-” You’re broken off by another moan escaping you by mistake. You watch as his hips snap back into you over and over, his abs are flexing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He takes his thumb and rubs it right underneath your clit, right on the sweet spot that drives you insane. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a freight train at top speed. You don’t even realize how loud you moan, a headrush almost making you black out. You ride it out, soon coming to, hearing the pretty sound of Josh moaning and letting a slight whimper escape his pretty lips. “Fuck, baby-” he cuts himself off with a loud moan and the stutter of his hips. You feel the warmness in your gut fill you through the latex. He almost collapses on top of you, forearms pressed on the bed bedside. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, slowly caressing him through his post cum clarity. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you admit, and to be completely honest, it was. That had been the best, let alone the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You feel him laugh a little, his head perking up, eyes locking with yours. “Really?” he breathes out, a chuckle leaving his lips, his pretty, pretty lips. God, he was beautiful. “Yes.” You watch as his eyes, seeing the words go straight to his head. “Why thank you, baby, I’m flattered.” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle but beautiful gesture.

He slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying a knot in it. “I’ll be right back,” he gently pats your thigh as he gets up and heads towards the bathroom. Finally, you get the chance to look around and analyze where you are. It’s still dark, the moonlight shining in was still a good enough source though. His bed lies in the middle of the room. His walls are off-white, with unique artwork that just looks expensive. Goddamn, you hit the gold mine in the crowd of the bar tonight. You suddenly hear the bathroom door open back up, looking over you see his stature in the doorway, backlight by the bathroom light. He walks over and comes back up to you with a damp washcloth. “Do you mind if I clean you up?” He asks gently, his voice so calming you couldn’t help but agree to the kind gesture. He takes the washcloth to your upper thighs, cleaning up the stickiness. Gently, with more precision than ever, he glides it over your cunt, making sure not to overstimulate, while also cleaning you well. “Thank you,” you mutter out, now suddenly a bit shy after all is said and done. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, smiling brightly at you. You watch as he throws the towel in a hamper, turns off the bathroom light, turns back around, and hops back into bed. He offers you to climb under the covers with him, to which you happily oblige.

“Thank you, Josh, this is nice,” you say, making yourself comfortable in his bedsheets. He places a hand on your cheek, leaning on his side to fully lock eyes with you. “Of course, how could I see a beautiful girl like you and not treat her well?” you laugh along with him, thanking him for his kindness. You cuddle into his arms, sleepiness suddenly washing over you. His delightful musk fills your senses, his skin is so soft and gentle. This man is just so…beautiful. And kind. And sweet. And my god you can’t remember the last time, if at all, where you have ever been this happy, especially after hooking up with a guy you met at a bar. Josh brings you in closer, his gentle love lulls you to sleep, as the world around just goes into a comfortable silence.

35 notes · View notes