#i just need a few more days of allowing myself to Feel Things before i become the Court Jester again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannieehaee · 5 months

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18+ / mdi

content: fratboy!mingyu, same couple as this fic (can be read as a standalone tho), established relationship, mingyu is whipped as per usual, wonwoo's mentioned to be reader's brother, afab reader, smut, soft sex, riding, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1459

a/n: was so happy to hear ppl liked this couple :D here's a link to the main fic! i'll periodically write more lil drabbles for them so if u have any ideas my asks are open <3

masterlist

"g-gyu! i have to go. i cant keep being late!", you whined at him as he nuzzled his head into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

it was yet another night you'd spent over at mingyu's frat. you were currently in bed with the man, pinned down by his strong arms.

despite having shared rooms with wonwoo before, mingyu had made a case to allow for him and wonwoo to have separate rooms, arguing that they'd been members of the frat for over a year by now and deserved some privileges due to seniority. fortunately for mingyu, his insistence was not met with much pushback, leading to wonwoo moving his things out and into one of the empty rooms in the frat about a week later. what the rest of frat members hadn't known however, was that mingyu's insistence was born purely out of his need to sneak you into his room night after night without having your brother get in the way.

he continued kissing at your neck without a single care in the world, still holding you against him, "baby, it's fine. i used to skip my freshman year all the time. they won't miss you."

"gyu! i wanna keep my gpa, ive been late three times this week. i'll be back in an hour, just be patient," you managed to unwrap yourself from him and wobble your way up, legs still weak from last night.

he dramatically groaned, allowing his back to flop onto the bed, "why do you hate me?"

jesus, he was so dramatic.

you sighed to yourself and approached him again, pulling at his hands to get him to sit up again. he let his body be limp, causing him to end up leaning against you once you'd pulled him all the way up. he took advantage of the angle and wrapped his arms against you once more, not pulling you against him this time but still keeping a light hold on you.

"stop being dramatic! we had sex last night! we'll have sex again today! just wait for me to get back, okay, baby?"

he chuckled at this, leaning up once more to try and kiss at you, "is it bad that i want you, baby?", he was teasing you, you could tell, "i've only had you to myself for a month. can you blame me for wanting you every day? i waited for years to have you, remember?", with this, he began to pull you towards him, easily getting you to straddle his legs on the bed.

"of ... of course not," you sighed out as his kisses became more and more sensual, now running his hands up and down your bare back.

you were too weak for him. you'd only managed to get off the bed for a few seconds, not even getting a single article of clothing on before he got you right back on his bed.

"so you'll let me take care of you, right baby?", he breathed against your ear, placing a playful bite on it as his hands lowered and lowered until landing on your ass, groping and toying with it. he instigated you, encouraging you to begin grinding against him at a slow and sensual tempo. everything felt slower in the early hours of the morning.

this was a common occurrence for you two ever since you'd first confessed your feelings for one another a little over a month ago. he'd expressed to you how badly he'd wanted you for years, knowing you'd only recently began to like him and wanting to give you time to process your feelings before confessing. but once you'd confessed, it led to endless time together. you were even more attached to the hip than you'd been as best friends, if that was even possible. with full support from both wonwoo and all your friends, you and mingyu had become inseparable, leading you to spend most of your nights being snuck into mingyu's frat.

you'd grown thirsty for each other, having had to hold back on your desires for each other for too long before growing to desperate and resulting in the night mingyu finally had you in his room a month ago. ever since then, mingyu had insisted on keeping you to himself day after day, just like last night, when he'd insisted you stay over (again) after having fucked you into the mattress late into the night.

the issue was, mingyu was a bit insatiable. even after that first night, even after being caught by wonwoo immediately after, he had insisted on fucking you again in the morning. just like now, as he managed to get you on your back again, legs spread as he laid his weight on top of you and ground his bare length against your folds.

you whined at him, wanting more than just friction. if he was gonna keep you from going to class, the least he could do was actually fuck you. you somehow managed to flip the gigantic man over (ok, he mightve let you do it ..), positioning yourself on top of him before lowering yourself on him.

"fuck! yeah, baby, that's it. such a good girl ..." he groaned upon feeling your walls close up around him. "gonna imprint my dick in you, baby. keep you all to myself," one thing about mingyu was his constant need to whisper filthy things in your ear as he made your eyes roll back.

he quickly took control of your hips, holding them down whenever he wanted to cant his hips upwards against yours, or sometimes simply guiding your hips to allow you to grind your clit against him at a speed that made your toes curl.

"g-gyu! shit! just like that!"

"right there, pretty? shit, is that the spot?", he took your whines as confirmation, beginning to ram his hips into yours even faster, lowering his hand between both of you in order to toy with your clit.

you threw your head back, feeling lightheaded at the way in he covered all bases of your pleasure, not only hitting your g spot consistently but also rubbing your clit at a tempo that had all air leaving your head. he was even at some points alternating between sucking your tongue into his mouth and lowering his head to lick and bite your boobs. in the very short period of time you'd been dating, mingyu had figured out everything you liked. every weak spot, he had dominated, knowing what brought you pleasure even better than yourself.

"'m gonna cum, fuck! don't stop!", you knew he didn't need any warning with how familiar he was with your body, but you just couldn't help but be vocal when around him.

"i know, pretty. cum for me, yeah? want you gushing all around me- shit! then ... then im gonna fill you up like a cute lil creampie. okay, baby?" he said this as he felt you tighten around him, a clear tell that you were seconds away from reaching ultimate bliss.

your orgasm triggered his, making him bury his head in your chest as you rode your high still tightly wrapped around him. even when you tried to unglue yourself from him, he kept you shoved against him for a few more seconds, lightly grinding against you for some extra stimulation despite how sensitive you both were after yet another intense orgasm shared between the two of you.

"shit .. it was worth it, wasn't it?", was his immediate response to you finally catching your breath.

"you're gonna make me flunk out of college," you deadpanned, not serious at all.

"good. that way i can keep you he-"

"can you guys shut the fuck up? i'm still sharing a wall with you, jesus christ," the sound of banging against the wall had interrupted you, wonwoo's voice cutting through.

the both of you remained silent for a minute, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"dude! you didn't tell me wonwoo was staying right next door!", you whisper-shouted, embarrassed your brother might've heard you.

"i didnt know he could hear us!", he whispered back. he got up and stuck his ear to the wall before speaking up again, at full volume this time, "how much did you hear?"

wonwoo waited a beat or two before you could hear his response through the wall.

"i put on my headphones every time i see you sneak her in. just go to her dorm, for fuck's sakes."

well, so much for not getting caught sneaking into the dorm past the allowed visitation hours.

mingyu hummed at this, turning to speak to you now.

"he kinda has a point, baby. how come i haven't fucked you in your dorm?"

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #mingyu smut #svt scenarios #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu oneshot

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pseudowho · 15 days

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Deliverance

Hunting down a monster, you are led to an isolated little town...and into the arms of its enigmatic priest, who harbours a dark secret.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Priest!Nanami, monsterfucking, winged vampire, soft!Dom/pleasure!Dom Nanami, loss of faith/disillusionment, enemies to lovers/forbidden lovers, haematophilia, corruption kink

Very much inspired by Mike Flanagan's exceptional "Midnight Mass" which I highly recommend.

Soundtrack: "Take Me To Church" by Hozier, and "All Around Me" by Flyleaf

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The bridge to the mainland lived most of its saltcured life underwater. It rose, skeletal against the fog, as if the wreck of a ship from some bygone era, only twice a day, at low tide.

You were, by now, well-established into this friendly little town; a much-needed teacher to its handful of muddy-toed children. They did now know of your armory, your deadly weaponry. They did not know of your vow to hunt down the monsters that stalked the night.

And, they did not know how you suspected that the beast responsible for the deaths of at least 20 men on the mainland, may be one of their very own. 20 murders all occurring at low-tide, and only low-tide, could not be a coincidence.

They were all scum, you mused to yourself, all rapists, paedophiles and murderers...so perhaps it does have some sort of moral code. It must be here, you reasoned, fingers tapping the woody shelves of your little school cupboard in thought.

Your hunt was hampered by the timekeeping of this sleepy fishing town; often up before sunrise to take to the sea, and back before the sun broke above the horizon, it was not unusual for its residents to sleep during the day, and rise in time for the sunset. Its little church even held an evening mass, attended by plentiful nocturnal residents, after dinner.

"Hello?" A rich baritone, which was beginning to feel so intimately familiar to you, stirred an illicit want in your belly. He called your name. You could not help but run to him.

"--sorry, I'm-- I'm here! In the cupboard!" You called out, breathless in...what? Your rush to get to him? Anticipation? Something...more?

You flurried round the corner, all eager smiles, flyaway hairs and dimples. Your eyes melted so softly upon each others' forms, both sighing with relief. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

"Ke--...Father Nanami. What a lovely surprise. You're not usually up so early."

Nanami Kento cut an imposing figure in his cassock and white collar. He was a big man, with mountainous shoulders, and long, broad hands. You remembered the heat that pooled in your belly, the first time he had rolled up his sleeves to help you to move supplies into the schoolhouse, his forearms so alluringly thick and corded. His size belied an easy grace, and the elegant quick-step of a busy, intelligent man.

"I found myself unable to sleep," Kento admitted, his head bowed and hands clasped as he stepped to you. He seemed paler than usual, as he continued, "I was thinking abo--...just, thinking." He finished weakly. His eyes drew so fleetingly to your fast little pulse, thrumming from your throat, down your cleavage. His mouth dried, a double-edged hunger climbing down his abdomen.

"...thinking?" You offered, slowly closing the distance between you. You ached to remove it completely, your respect for his holy vows the only thing that contained you. Kento cleared his throat, running one strong finger between his neck, and corseting black and white collar.

"...wondering. If you would be attending mass. Tonight. I have miss--...you have missed the past week, I believe."

Ah. Yes. There was rarely another time when the homes of the local residents were empty enough to allow for investigation. You had only a few more to ransack, to find your monster, and you could feel yourself closing in on it. You felt a heavy rock of regret in your belly, and you clasped one of Kento's cool, pale hands in your own. His cock twitched, to feel the burn of your flesh against his, in ways so much less intimate than what he had imagined, alone at night.

"I'm so sorry...not tonight," you frowned, and you hurried to reassure Kento as he visibly deflated, "But tomorrow, I promise you. I'll come. Truly." Kento's face, so angular and strong, softened down at you with the hint of a smile.

His hand raised up for a moment, hesitating, before cupping your cheek. You felt your heart skip a beat, the tips of his little and ring fingers ghosting over your pulse point, while his thumb swiped beneath your eye.

"...chalk," Kento whispered, seeing your pupils dilate under his inherent, dangerous magnetism. He wished nothing more than to lean down and taste you, clutched against him and whimpering in the schoolhouse. You heard thunder rumble in the distance, and smelled the petrichor of an oncoming storm.

"...I can't wait," Kento whispered, stepping back from you, with just one backwards glance before sweeping out under the wind and blotting clouds.

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Your hunt had amounted to nothing. Either, your monster was meticulously careful, or your suspicions were incorrect, and it did not reside on this island. There was just one more place you had not explored, and you resigned yourself that you may be heading home sooner than you thought.

And yet, you felt a rope behind your navel, a red string around your finger, holding you here. You decided to complete your final investigation at the home of the priest, who had become the lifeblood that ran inside you, at midnight. He generally stayed late at the church, completing administration. You would be undisturbed.

Armed, rogue-like, you blended with moonlit shadows until you reached the windows outside his bedroom. You peeked through the gaps in the wooden blinds, and were met with an image of Kento, erotic and resplendent, that seared itself into your brain for the rest of your days.

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Kento didn't need sleep, ever since his God had forsaken him. Yet still, he craved that sweet embrace, to take him away from the twisted torture of what he had become. His resolve to die this way, as some fallen angel, had been unexpectedly fractured by the will to live-- fractured by you.

Kento switched the shower off, the last droplets of water running down his back. His cassock and collar were discarded, all woven lies against the skin of a faithless hypocrite. Kento wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, stepped past the empty mirror, and out into his bedroom.

His gut churned to see his empty bed. It had been weeks since he had fed. Years since he had taken a woman for the last time, before taking his vows. Weeks, since you had begun to consume him, mind, body and soul.

Kento had been losing his faith before the change. He had grown further from God, as countless monsters died beneath his teeth. But it was thoughts of you, spread, penetrated and whimpering beneath him, that took Kento beyond redemption.

Kento shuddered at the aching greed within. He lay back on his bed, hair still damp and floppy, but desperate for sleep to grip him and pull him under. His cock, rapidly thickening and tenting beneath the towel, made him curse, one broad arm flung over his eyes, while the other tried to squeeze himself into submission.

Kento squirmed with guilt, his semi-erect cock gripped in his palm. He thought of you, your fingers dipping into your needy wet cunt, the vibrator on your clit doing nothing to relieve the ache in your soul. He thought of the way you had squirmed and begged, to your god, and to him, to be granted your release. He thought of the way you had sobbed as you came, curled round yourself, your fingers desperately trying to reach the sweet spot that would make your orgasm climb all the way into your belly.

He didn't need to imagine it, Kento thought blithely, his thumb now stroking slick pre-cum under his foreskin, and over the sweet swollen head of his cock. He didn't need to imagine it, because he had seen you, through the gap in your curtains in the dead of night. Watching you, a pale angel in the rain, hunting for the forgiveness of a body he couldn't allow himself to sully.

Kento's hand had begun to masturbate himself instinctually, to the thought of you crying out for him. For him, and he could do nothing but pretend he hadn't seen you fall apart, to the dream of him inside you.

Kento groaned, low and rumbling, his hand gripping tightly around his throbbing, heavy length, longer than his thick fist could cover. Dripping with pre-cum, Kento began to fuck into his own fist to lubricate himself. He moaned in time to the memory of you, writhing and mewling against your pillow.

Kento's other arm reached round above his head, and he sunk his sharp teeth into his pillow, licking at it, imitating how he would flick his tongue against your pert little clit with a ragged moan. He pictured you above him, riding his mouth and nose as the length of his cock fucked down your throat to the tune of sweet wet gags. Kento whispered filth into the dead of night, trying to rut himself to orgasm.

"--take it-- good girl...cum down your throat-- cum in my mouth...shit...fuck you through it soon, angel-- promise, I promise--...ahhhh, shit, SHIT--"

Kento cursed, spitting venom, his balls heavy and sore, his own hand so woefully inadequate. His canines had lengthened, his mouth twisted into a teeth-baring snarl, and he gripped his cock harder. Trailing his other fingers to his mouth, sucking on his fingertips with a shiver, Kento pierced them until he could taste the hot rush of blood, imagining it was you quenching his thirst--

At the window, completely unnoticed, you gripped the windowpane, weak-kneed. Your other hand clapped over your mouth. Kento lay naked on his bed, sprawled and ethereal under strips of moonlight, masturbating with gasps and groans that you only wished you could hear.

Those hands, that you had spent night after night, wishing were inside you. That cock, thicker and longer than you had pictured...and oh. The way he rutted into his fist with such devastating ferocity, left you jealous of his hand. Your mouth watered.

What would he do, if you knocked right now? If you offered yourself to him, spread bare and pleading? Would he forsake his vows for you? Would he turn his back to God, as he stroked his cockhead to orgasm between your wet folds, singing your praises, and spattering hot, thick cum over your clit--

You were drawn back out of your head as Kento convulsed, his anguished, sloppy moan breaking through the windows, shooting through you like a knife. You gasped, delighted by Kento's twitching pleasure.

Kento hit his orgasm with the turmoiled strength of a stormfront, breaking. His final image was of you, cradling his sore cock between your legs, humping him inside you while you whispered to him and he whined into your hair and got lost in the smell of you, god, the smell of you, he could smell you now--

Kento spasmed, crying out as cum spurted in heavy stripes up his abdomen, his orgasm threaded with a tinge of horror-- fuck, he could smell you, you were here nearby, he knew the smell of that skin and that blood and that cunt--

Kento sat up with a jolt and a snarl, still gasping, the power of the hunt crashing through him. His teeth bared, animalistic, he wrenched his window up, sticking his head out into the night.

The smell of you, quickly fading, was being carried away by the wind. And Nanami Kento was losing his mind.

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You could barely compose yourself, walking into Church the next evening. The night had crept in fast; another storm churning over the water, was pulling the moon in with it. You felt overburdened with...guilt? Desire? You could not hide it, you were sure.

You could not hide it, as Kento's rich voice embraced the pews. You could not hide it, as your voice trembled its way through hymns. Kento's stern, impassive face remained unreadable, as you took communion from him. You met each others' eyes, both thinking about the same thing; his finger grazed your tongue, and gazed upon your sweet face, open-mouthed and doe-eyed, kneeling before him.

And despite all this, it was each others' company you craved more than anything more carnal. You found excuses to stay, in the church, loitering as Kento bid the crowds a warm goodbye. As the last person left, finally alone, you turned to each other. You both held your breath.

After a few moments, yours released in a twinkling laugh, and a blush, that had Kento's chest clenching in possessive adoration.

"I...have neglected you, father," you offered, brushing your hair behind your ear. Kento huffed, at first, pinching the bridge of his nose, before laughing. A genuine laugh. Deep, velvety, and rich. You were putty in his hands, and he didn't even know.

"Alas...it is the life of the clergy. Our own needs, go...unmet." Kento grimaced, a forced half-smile. His hands clasped over his lap.

You felt the tinge of bitterness at the edge of his words. You swallowed, thickly. Your fate balanced on the edge of a knife.

"Not...not all of them, surely? You could...you could join me for dinner?" You couldn't miss how Kento's eyebrows raised fractionally, his pupils dilating. Kento felt a dangerous hunger.

"I...I'm not sure-- I shouldn't--"

"Of course, you're completely right--" you flapped, taking a step back, and Kento's hunger gripped you back with jealous need.

"...I shouldn't be long here. An hour, maybe? If...if you'll allow it." Kento could feel himself twist under the need to possess you, one way or another. Judging by the smell of you, you would be wet, supple under his lips.

"Perfect," you blurted, standing up on your tiptoes for one happy moment, "perfect. I'll cook. We can...we can talk. I can't wait."

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A brisk knock. You hurried to the door, biting your lip, briefly abandoning dinner on the stove.

"Father," you cried, damning yourself for sounding so excited, "you're here...I'm glad. I was afraid you wouldn't...anyway..."

You hurried back to the stove, leaving the door open. After a moment, you looked up, seeing Kento leaning against the doorframe, looking at with with something...unreadable, in his eyes. He simply stood, drinking you in as you cooked.

"...Father? What are you waiting out there for? Come in." Blinking, chuckling to himself, Kento stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him and gently placing a bottle of wine on the table.

"Please. Call me Kento. It seems...silly, if we're having dinner, and a night together." You felt heat blossom through you, at the accidental double-meaning behind Kento's words.

Dinner together was soft, intimate, the food and wine smoothing over an already glossy conversation. You were made malleable by the wine. You were intoxicated by him. Kento looked into you with such knowledge of you, that you were laid bare beneath his gaze.

Sat facing each other on the sofa, Kento had abandoned his white collar, the buttons of his cassock and white shirt undone to his chest. He rolled wine around his glass, his head leaning on one hand, smiling as you talked. The wine made you stupid, and you blurted out;

"Why? Why...did you join the church, Kento?" It was, in part, rhetorical. A cry of despair against the crime of Kento being made untouchable. His answer surprised you, and you found yourself shuffling closer as he talked.

"I ask myself that same question every day. Ever since..." Kento bit his tongue, thinking of the night he was turned, on a missionary trip abroad. Thinking about the day you walked into his parish, setting him aflame with unquenchable burning thirst. Kento cleared his throat, swirling his wine. He felt his primal magnetism drawing you to him like a moth to the flame, and he could not stop himself.

"...I have become...disillusioned, with the church. I am...torn," Kento admitted. Your knees were touching his now, and you leaned towards him with lovesick eyes. Kento felt the thrill of the hunt, feeling the sting of his teeth lengthening. His cock twitched as your breath passed over his cheek.

"...torn?" You felt a quiver of fear now, in the way Kento's eyes darkened, his hand slipping over to grip behind your knee, pulling him into his lap. He set aside his glass. It should have rung alarm bells. You were so drunk, but you had only had one glass of wine. Kento smelled so intoxicating. You were warm, floppy as he pulled you to straddle his lap, cupping your face with both hands.

"...torn," he whispered, his nose brushing yours. Kento's hunger overtook his panic for you, a victim to himself. Kento whispered against your lips, watching your eyes flutter closed, your head heavy and lilting to the side, exposing the pretty thrum of your throat to him.

"...torn," he continued, gliding his tongue up the pulse in your neck, feeling his cock jump against your clothed pussy, "...all because of you...if God has forsaken me, I hope he never wants me back. If only you would let me worship you, instead."

Kento's lips hovered over yours, barely quelling his urgent need to feed on you, until you whimpered his name. Kento snapped, and pulled you in by the back of the neck, crashing his lips to yours with the ragged groan of a starving man.

Your head swam with Kento, clutching his open collar and falling against him, allowing him to devour your mouth with bliss. You murmured against his lips, sloppy and licking, tasting the sweet allure of him, and his grip on the back of your neck grew crushing, his weight now bearing over you to press you back into the sofa, a sharp sting on your lip--

"Ow! I...ugh, sorry...I'm bleeding--"

As you moved to sit up, shocked back out of your reverie, Kento had pushed himself back to the other side of your sofa. One hand had clasped over his mouth. He trembled, and shook, white-knuckles clasping the sofa. You heard a sharp gasp, as if Kento was in pain.

With blood on your lip, you reached for him-- and stopped. Your eyes fixed on the switched-off television opposite you both. You stood, slowly, moving towards the hallway, and your bag, trying to control your terrified little heart.

"I'll just...get a cloth, for my li--"

As you pulled a blade from your bag, standing up to spin around, you were thrown back to the wall, your head cushioned by Kento's hand. You cried out, feeling him bracket you against the wall, his cassock now abandoned, his form seeming to grow and swell before you. Kento's face pressed to your neck, and you felt the hot throb of his growing cock against your belly.

You stood this way, both panting into each other, your knife pressed over Kento's heart, and his teeth pressed to your throat. Your heart broke, fragile beneath Kento's twisting form, and hungry mouth. You hiccuped, your hand and resolve faltering.

"...I never wanted...I wish it wasn't...why did it have to be you?" You sobbed, your arm starting to lower. Kento growled against you, already two feet taller, his enormous chest trapping you in against the wall. You felt the lights blotting out around you, as vast, black, velvety wings unfurled from Kento's back.

"...always...you always knew...just couldn't accept--" Kento gasped, his tongue darting out against your neck, ridged and trembling. His chest burst with pain to feel you sob beneath him.

"I can't do it," you cried, your knife hand lowering again, "just take what you want, because I can't-- I love you-- I'm not strong enough." Kento's teeth gritted, his face crumpling against the soft copper scent of your skin. His enormous hand gripped yours, raising the knife to press to his chest. You gasped and cried out, resisting his pull; a bead of blood sprung up around the tip, pressed to Kento's chest.

"From the moment you arrived," Kento growled, his teeth pressing gently over your pulse point, starving and needy, "...my life...everything I am, has been yours to take. I would know you, blind and deaf...and I would be honoured, for you to take my life as penance for my sins."

You gritted your teeth, completely releasing your grip on the blade. It clattered to the floor. You reached up to trail hands up Kento's enormous, powerful shoulders. Your fingertips grazed the soft base of his wings, and Kento shivered, shuddering into you. He felt a dribble of pre-cum soak his stretched, ripping boxers.

"Then I condemn you to live, Kento," you whispered, pulling his face up to yours. His pupils were dilated, bursting with lust, inky black in pools of crimson, "...and take me. However you want me."

Kento snarled at you again, pressing himself to you, pinning your arms above your head with one thick hand; "You have no idea what you're asking for," he hissed, "I will eat you alive." He felt you tremble, seeing the golden resolve in your eyes. You leaned forwards to his mouth, begging.

"Then eat me...or fuck me, like you fucked your hand to me."

Kento cursed, snapping, lifting you against him. You wrapped your legs around his hips, feeling Kento reach down to shred the clothes off himself, completely absorbed by the need to possess you, to love you.

Flung backwards onto the bed, you gasped at Kento's monstrous form. Eight feet tall, broad and exquisite, his great black wings folded and unfolded against his back. His aching cock dripped with pre-cum, so much bigger than when you had seen him cum into his own hand. His face, still undeniably Kento, stared into you, owning you. Heat pooled between your legs, as he grasped his cock in one great hand, groaning and shuddering.

You crept forwards, still drunk on him, and his nephilim glory. Kento's hand stuttered around his cock as you licked the tip.

"--fuck-- too big for you-- you can't--" Kento uttered a strangled moan, to feel your hot little mouth engulf his cockhead, your lips stretched wide, gulping him to the back of your throat, all hot little licks and sucks. Every fibre of his being needed to buck forwards into your mouth, and you felt two great hands tangle in your hair.

When your hands joined your mouth, stroking down his aching length, masturbating the parts of his cock your mouth could not reach, Kento rutted involuntarily. Moaning, begging and whining your name, his voice ran deep and ragged around his sharp canines.

"--darling, I-- shit I-- so good...so good for me...taking me s--so well, haaaaah...not-- can't last-- like this--"

You hummed around his cock, swallowing down a trickle of salty pre-cum, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your head. So aware of his size and strength, Kento handled you like a china doll, with the utmost love and affection. Kento moaned with abandon, his head thrown back, his great wings furling and unfurling with divine pleasure.

Swallowing around Kento's thick tip at the back of your throat, you felt his cock leaping in warning. Kento tried half-heartedly to pull you off him, whimpering and moaning with fractured cries of your name;

"--can't swallow-- s'too much-- ohhh fuck, my love-- c-cumming, I'm cumming-- fffuuuck yes, swallow-- all of it--"

You squeaked as his cock jolted and twitched in your mouth, Kento's balls clenched tight as he hunched around your mouth, pressing your head to him. Your mouth and throat flooded with Kento's bitter seed, cooler than that of a normal man, and you swallowed him down with pride. Kento's groans and breaths ran ragged, as you licked him clean.

Kento panted, glossy-eyed as he came down from his high, his cock still half-hard against his thigh. Crowding your body against the bed with his, his fingertips grazed the dress you wore, before ripping it from you with a bared-teeth growl. You felt your bra snapped in the middle, as if it were paper. Your breasts heaved, nipples peaked under Kento's ravenous attention.

Poking his tongue out to tease it over one hard nipple, you felt your clit throb to feel the otherworldly ridges and grooves running along his tongue's sides and tip. Whining as he sucked your pebbled nipple into his mouth, you shuddered to feel Kento's sharp teeth graze your sensitive peak. He savoured you, lathering your nipple against his tongue, until you felt you could cum from that alone.

His other hand rose to engulf your second breast, your nipple rolled so tenderly between two great fingers. You felt a trickle of arousal soak your underwear. Kento could smell it, and pressed his hand to your lower belly, feeling vaguely for the telltale swell of ovulation.

"...made a mistake, angel...letting me take you like this-- nothing of you left, by the time I'm done with you--mine-- all mine-- fuck--"

Trailing kisses down your belly, sniffing you and eager to fill you with his smell, his body thrummed for you. Kento threw your legs over his shoulders, ripping the sides of your underwear and tossing the scraps aside.

His eyes fixed on your pussy, slick and clenching. Kento shuddered, feeling his cock beginning to bound to life again. It flopped, heavy and twitching against his thigh, filling again in preparation to fill you. Kento felt a vague desire to ensnare you, trapping you inside his drunken intoxication, to fill you, and fill you, and fill you, until your belly swelled, oozing his thick, white seed.

"...Kento...please..." Your sweet begging pulled Kento out of himself. Despite his monstrous form, his face softened, his eyes fixed to yours as his tongue, long and ridged, stretched out of his mouth. You saw stars as it lathed insistently from side to side, spreading your folds, stroking back and forth over your aching, pearly clit.

Kento mumbled into your pussy, tasting you, his long tongue fucking into your cunt while his nose nuzzled your clit. Mewling, your hands flew down to sink into Kento's hair, and you felt your hands grasped and pinned against your belly. Kento knew, with a faint pang, that if your fingernails scratched against his sensitive scalp, he would surely spill his seed all over your floor.

Kento draped his other forearm over your belly and hips, pinning you down as you twisted beneath his attention. He lapped, sucked, and nipped at you with the softest bites to your clit, his tongue fucking in and out of you with inhuman dexterity.

You bucked your hips down the bed, eager to feel his tongue sink into your deepest parts, and Kento obliged with a wet moan. You felt his tongue lathe against your spongy spot, pinned down as he devoured you.

"--just there...harder please, please-- god I need your cock in me, please-- fuck me please-- please--"

You begged and pleaded your way to orgasm, your arousal seeping out around Kento's tongue as you came with a jolt and a cry, your thighs clamping around Kento's head, feet tickling against his sensitive wings. Kento continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, lathering you with his spit, tasting your arousal, desperate to taste more of you.

You reached down, trying to pull Kento up your body. He almost laughed at your casual management of a true to life vampire, about to fuck you into the mattress. Kento allowed it, settling above you, his pupils narrowing at the insistent beat of your throat. Suddenly, and with a strangled growl, Kento knocked your head aside, his teeth grazing at your throat, and his monstrous cock throbbing at your entrance.

You trembled beneath him, heaving and gasping from your high. All of your resolve left you, beneath his tongue, and you uttered words you knew to be true;

"...I trust you, Kento."

Kento pressed into you, with teeth and cock and a husky moan. You felt a sharp pierce at your neck, his teeth just deep enough to feel the hot splash of your blood against his tongue. Kento almost finished then and there, his seed threatening to spatter into your folds and entrance, instead of in your belly, as he had promised himself. Kento drank you, his mouth clamped around your neck, one great hand cupping your head to the side while the other gripped your hip.

With a squeak and a protracted, broken moan of his name, you felt Kento's cock stretch through your wet velvety walls. You squirmed, trying to climb up the bed, feeling Kento growl around your throat and yank you back down.

Kento was enormous, by far the biggest cock you had ever taken, splitting you with a dull sting. Your fluttering hole soothed as Kento began to rut his length into you. His red, leaking tip bullied your cervix, bumping it up against your womb, with inches of him still outside of you.

You uttered strangled little moans, completely pinned beneath his hulking form, feeling him rut as much of his cock inside you as he could fit. With a shiver, Kento denied himself of any more blood at your throat. His tongue stroked your wounds, clotting the blood there, as he fucked gently into you.

Kento's wings caged you both in, and he stared down at where his cock tried to stretch your pussy out with dopey, lovesick eyes. A trickle of your blood ran down from the corner of his mouth, and he was struck with a sudden burst of pride for you. Kneeling back, Kento pushed your knees up to your chest, crushing over you in a mating press.

You writhed, as Kento managed to sink more of his cock into you, groaning which each stroke he watched enter and pull out of you. Your slick formed a translucent white ring most of the way down his cock length. Kento was eager to see it drip down his balls. He gasped down at your prone, fucked-out form, and gently began to press and roll the fatty flesh around your clit, making you buck up into him with pathetic little mewls.

"--fit it in--fit all of me in...if you cum again-- fuck you through it, baby...fuck you through it...fuck you through it..."

Kento repeated this like a mantra, every gradually strengthening thrust into you taking him deeper, your pussy stretched to its limits around his terrifying girth and length. Leaning over where you joined, Kento spat a smooth mouthful of spit, stroking it around his base, lubricating you both, before upping his pace and intensity again.

You cried out, head thrown back as you arched, feeling Kento so deeply that you clasped your belly. Kento planted one hand over yours, his fucks growing gradually more feral as he bared his teeth, determined to finally take what was his, after so many years of miserable self-denial.

"--mine make you mine make you mine--leave it behind...leave it all...for you...shit-- so tight, just--milk it out-- all my cum-- all yours, I swear..."

As you came, your pussy clenching and spasming, Kento finally bottomed out. His head flung back with a cry of success, slamming into you with abandon as he chased his high, desperate to see you filled with his cum. Cursing, and spitting, teeth bared and blacking out the room around you with his wings, Kento came with a roar, and you felt your pussy and belly flooded by him.

His cock jerked long, protracted twitches inside you, spurting thick bursts of cum, with nowhere to go but up, plugged by his enormous girth. You were pliable and dazed, taking it with the sweet relief of his love for you, his seed soothing your swollen inner walls like a balm.

Kento faltered above you, staggered and dazed. Keeping his cock stuffed inside you, manoeuvring himself onto his side, he swept one great wing beneath you, and one above you. You felt yourself cocooned, sleepy and full, reaching into hand up to tangle into Kento's hair. He pressed a lazy kiss to your palm.

"...you're a...terrible vampire hunter..." Kento slurred, fading out into soft snores, just seconds later.

He's not wrong, you reasoned to yourself, wondering and drifting to sleep in his arms and wings, maybe he'll help me.

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chronicallycouchbound · 8 months

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I feel like people often don’t talk about the experiences of disabled people who have caretakers because so much of the conversation is about us—not including us.

I receive in home care for 30 hours a week (+ 4 hours/week for respite). This is paid for by Medicaid (state insurance). Outside of paid hours, my primary caretakers care for me unpaid and assist me most of the time. I’m very rarely left alone due to my high support needs. Often, when I am left alone, I am completely bedridden or at minimum housebound. I have frequent emergency life threatening health problems, falls, and serious injuries even with support in place, and these things significantly increase when I’m on my own.

I’m extremely lucky that my paid caretakers are my partner, my sister (the only family member I have regular contact with, I’m estranged from the rest of my immediate family and most of my extended family) and my best friend.

I used to have agency staffing which was horrible for me and borderline traumatic. At several points, before doing the self directed care option (which allows me to choose my own staff, hire and train them myself and dictate hours for them), I opted to not have any staffing. I was regularly in the emergency room. I can’t drive, so I was having to walk and if I was lucky enough to be able to take the bus on occasion or get a ride from a Facebook acquaintance, they were few and far in between. I don’t have family support, and even my sister who is supportive wasn’t living in the state at the time and doesn’t have a car most of the time.

And before I could even choose which staffing option, even though medically it had been deemed essential for me to have in home care, even though my insurance covered it, I had to wait several years (I was 18 when I was approved) until I was 21 to qualify to start. The reason why: I was legally an “adult disabled child” because of my high support needs (which is funny because I STILL don’t have SSI at age 24) and thus legally unable to consent to my own care plan. I needed a blood relative to consent, and that same blood relative (who had to have proof of such!) couldn’t care for me. At the time, my sister was the only person who could’ve been my caregiver and also she is the only verifiable blood relative I have contact with for safety reasons, and my only relative on this side of the USA.

The first business day after my 21st birthday I immediately got things set up to get in home care.

This is out of date, I get assistance with more than just these highlighted ADL (activities of daily living) tasks now.

In short: my day-to-day life is entirely dependent on others.

And there’s power imbalances that exist between me and my caregivers, even with my current caregivers being amazing and anti-ableist. They will always exist. We talk about the power dynamics of me being dependent on them for my survival, and how heavy that weight can be for each of us.

Having caregivers often means that accessibility is extra difficult— I’ve been told straight up multiple times that I can’t have assistance from my caregivers to help me change in a changing room when we’re out shopping. That they can’t go into the bathroom with me, that they can’t help me get un/dressed during appointments, that they can’t come into spaces with me.

I’ve been denied access to psychiatric care because I can’t do my daily living tasks (ADLs- the highlighted items) independently. And when I’m in a hospital or emergency room, I can’t have my in home workers be paid to care for me, there’s an expectation that the nursing staff at the hospital will do it. Even though my caregivers were specifically trained to learn my body and needs for weeks and have been working with me for years. I have severe cPTSD and showering in front of a stranger is something I cannot do. I would rather fall or faint or get injured or just not shower than deal with that. But I’m expected to just let anyone have access to my body just because I’m physically disabled and need support.

When I faint/fall/get injured/have life threatening health issues arise while I’m not clothed, or when I’m otherwise vulnerable, I’m supposed to let strangers just touch me however they want to. I have to show them my chest (for my cardiac care) and let them poke and examine me. I can’t object without losing access to vital care.

I have agency. I have rights. I have autonomy. I deserve to be able to exercise these things.

#chronically couchbound #disability #disabled #disabled pride #cripple punk #cripplepunk #disability pride #high support needs #ableism #professional caregiver #activities of daily living #ADL #medicaid #healthcare #in home care #home care #home care aids #nothing about us without us

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klausysworld · 1 month

Note

A prompt I had for a while: reader is a single widowed mother. Klaus and her become close but she’s reluctant as she’s scared to start anything with Klaus as she’s worried her daughter may get attached. Klaus is adamant he loves reader and her daughter.

Just fluff and stuff!

Bonus: smut? And even a lil addition to the family that’s a mix of Klaus and reader 👶

Life goes on

I had only dated a couple of guys since losing my husband.

It had taken a while to allow myself to feel okay with being someone else, especially because of Luna; my daughter. She's only young, barely 6 and I didn't want her to think I was replacing her father, not that she really remembers him much now. Years had passed now and sometimes she would ask where her daddy was and why he couldn't visit.

I had only let her meet one other guy before and she was more heartbroken than I was when it didn't work out so I knew I needed to keep her away from that aspect of my life, especially while she was so young.

But that didn't mean that I didn't date.

It wasn't a frequent thing, just when I found someone I really liked and well, I really liked Nik.

We met at Luna's school actually. He also has a daughter who's a few years older and we had just dropped them off. I accidentally caught his eye when I took a glance round the playground and we smiled at each other politely.

He was a sight for sore eyes: good hair, nice eyes, charming smile, lean body and a nice sense of fashion. An annoying sense of guilt always filled me when I found another man attractive so I looked away and headed to work.

Still though, I couldn't help look for him and his smile every morning when I dropped Luna off and every afternoon when I picked her back up. He would always be looking back at me as his own daughter would run on over to him and he would take her backpack from her and give me a look as if to say "Kids, am I right?" and I would always smile a little wider and gesture to my own who would always be pulling on my sleeve telling me she wanted to go home or to a friends house.

It made me jump a little the first time he actually spoke to me, he had appeared behind me as though out of thin air and quickly apologised when I flinched away at the sound of his voice and placed my hand over my chest.

He chuckled as he spoke, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you"

His voice had a beautiful accent that made my cheeks blush pink and my attention to focus on him completely.

"That's okay, I just wasn't paying attention" I dismissed and he smiled

"I'm Nik" he introduced and I felt my heart flutter a little bit in a way that I knew I would feel bad about later.

"Y/n" I whispered and he hummed as he took my hand and kissed that back of it, I couldn't help but laugh at the outdated gesture and he rolled his eyes playfully.

I glanced over to the doors where I was waiting for Luna to come out briefly before turning back to him. He had a curious sort of look in his eye that made me ask if something was wrong but he shook his head.

"I just don't understand why you're single" he murmured and I felt my eyes go to the floor as I hesitated because there was no right way to every tell somebody that my husband had died and since then my life was a mess. So I turned away from him and tried to swallow the memory of my husbands death away but then I felt his Nik's on my arm and the gentle act reminded me of him. "I don't mean to offend you" he told me, his tone soft and it made me feel worse.

"You didn't, I'm sorry my daughters here now so I have to go" I whispered, walking forward to meet Luna as she already had her hand outstretched to hold onto mine.

I tried not to look at him the next day.

Dating was complicated enough, dating a man who's child went to the same school as mine was too much.

However, for better or worse, no matter how much I tried to ignore him, our eyes always seemed to meet and as the days passed we ended up stood closer and closer together. Once we were so close, it felt rude to ignore him so we would talk. Not really about anything important or deep, mostly parent things and what sorts of things the girls were up to. It was a conversation topic that was easy and didn't open up too many personal questions.

I started to like him, more than I wanted to. But so did other moms and teachers for that matter even though most of them were married. Woman were cruel sometimes, often I wondered if they just never evolved from highschool.

For whatever reason, they didn't like that I was a single mother, despite it not being my fault or choice. Luna and I had moved here after my husband died but I only had to tell one person for the whole town to know that I was widowed and struggling.

Klaus wasn't aware for a while, not until one of the other moms filled him in.

I had gotten to school a little late because work and ran over, I was never late but unfortunately I had been that day but I rang the school to let them know even though it was only a few minutes so that Luna wasn't stood waiting.

When I got there Luna was running toward me crying and I quickly lifted her up asking what was wrong.

"They're talking about Daddy" she whimpered and I quickly looked over. Two woman were talking to eachother, loudly. Nik was looking right at me and I felt my face heating up as the moms spoke about how felt for someone like me and they wondered how I managed to even get out of bed each morning let alone flirt with other men after losing my husband.

I kissed Luna's head gently and whispered for her to ignore it before walking briskly to my car and strapping her in. I wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and went round to my side of the car.

Fast paced footsteps approached me before I heard his voice. "Y/n, love, are you alright?" he asked, his hand going to my upper back in an act of comfort and it made my eyes water again.

"I'm fine" I whispered but it came out as weak and unconvincing as I felt.

I didn't have it in me to push myself away from him when he pulled me into a hug, his hand stroked the back of my hair and I cried into his shoulder. I knew Luna could see me hugging a man from her carseat and it made me cry harder at the thought.

"It's alright" he mumbled while his arms seemed to circle me tighter. I tried to apologise but he shushed my sorrys away and helped wipe my tears away. I glanced over to where his daughter, Hope, was stood. She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved a little, Klaus handed Hope the keys to his car and asked he to wait for a moment before turning back to me. "Hope lost her mother due to childbirth" he told me and I softened all that more.

"I'd say I'm sorry but... I know that's not really something you want to hear again" I whispered and he smiled a little.

"You'd be correct" he muttered and I glanced back at Luna who held a worried but curious expression. I looked back at him and nodded before letting go of me and opening my car door for me. I sniffed and thanked him before getting into my seat and watching him walk over to his own car before driving home.

Luna asked who he was and I told her he was just another dad from school, but I knew she wasn't as clueless as she acted.

Thankfully it was a Friday so I didn't have to see Nik for a couple of days, or any of the moms. Just Luna and I.

Once Monday came back around I didn't feel like facing the stuck up bitches of the community so watched Luna go in from my car and waved to her teacher at the door so they knew how Luna got there. I went to get back into my car when Nik's voice called out for me and captured my attention once more.

"I do hope you aren't avoiding me, love" he called as he grew nearer and I quickly shook my head.

"No, not you" I replied and his brows pulled together briefly before a look of realisation and sympathy washed over his face.

"They don't know what they're saying. Nobody knows how it feels until they've gone through it, not that I want any of them to but it would help a little if they understood at least a fraction of the pain" he expressed and I couldn't have worded it better myself.

"I just don't know how people can be so unempathetic" I mumbled and he nodded solemnly.

"The world" he muttered "is a cruel place. It always has been." somehow he sounded as if he truly knew that and I found myself questioning it.

"Will it always be?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"Not for everyone. Not for you, I won't allow it." he told me, honesty shining in his eyes that made a blush spread to my ears and a smile to creep across my face.

"I won't hold you to it" I breathed but he shook his head and took my hand, kissing the back of it making my eyes roll.

"I don't tend to break promises" he uttered before squeezing my hand and letting me go to work for the day.

Later we both got to school early to see the other though neither of us outwardly confirmed it, we both knew. That was when he asked if I was ever free to go out for lunch or dinner or anything. I was reluctant and he could see that,

"It doesn't have to be a date" he offered, "just friends getting something to eat or drink or going on a walk..."

After a moment I agreed and told him that one of my neighbours would be happy to babysit Luna for a couple hours after work or on the weekend. The elderly lady next door was lovely and welcoming, she gave sympathy immediately and loved Luna from day one and had watched over her a couple times throughout the last couple years.

We just went and got some coffee and went for a walk to begin with. It was nice to ease into it. The last guy I went out with expected way too much on the first date while Nik kissed my cheek and knew that was enough for that day. Somehow he seemed to know everything, when to make a move and when to slow down. He could read me like a book and under different circumstanced that would scare me but I didn't feel afraid with him.

So I started to see him more frequently, more romantically.

He would take me to fancy restaurants and refuse to let me even see the check which to begin with was cute but started to make me feel guilty which he picked up on and explained that he didn't want me to ever think about money when I was with him. He said that he had more than he knew what to do with and spoiling me made him happy. I wasn't completely settled with this answer but I accepted it a bit.

We ended up making it into a little game. We would see which one of us could grab the check the fastest, he almost always won but every now and then I would manage to snatch it up, he would be trying to get it off of me but I would threaten to scream so he had to stop tickling. On occasion, if he had to go to the bathroom, I would manage to pay the bill before he was able to intervene and he would strop over it and end up buying me something worth much more that the date.

Everything about it was heavenly, accept for the comments and opinions of others. However it seemed that people only seemed to step out of line once before they never spoke ill of me again, it was strange but somehow I knew that Klaus had something to do with it.

This was confirmed when he dropped be home and my neighbour: Dorothy, or Dot was stood outside with a hard expression on her face as she held a sleeping Luna. I approached with a confused frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried and her eyes snapped to mine.

"That's the man you're seeing?" she asked, her tone judgemental and I didn't understand the switch up. I nodded, confused and she tightened her hold on Luna making my eyes narrow in concern. "You stop talking to that man right now. He is no good and never will be. A monster is that man and I will not allow him to be in Luna's life nor yours." she argued and I frowned.

"Dot- what on earth are you on about?" I asked, alarmed.

"He is the devil reincarnated. You stay away." she warned as she handed me Luna. "You don't understand now but you will if you stay near him. He'll ruin whatever good you have."

I didn't know what she was on about, or why or how she knew Nik but Dorothy was not a liar and she was not a hateful person so to see her voice such a harsh opinion spoke volumes.

I was a little more skeptical around Nik, but I also didn't really know what I was looking for. He just seemed upset and stressed when I turned down the third date in a row.

It made me feel awful so I went to Dot and started to demand answers.

Now, I'll be honest, I thought she was losing it when she started talking about vampires and werewolves and witches. But when I tried to leave the door slammed shut without her touching it and the fireplace flames roared.

"You have to listen to me dear, and you have to really hear me to be able to understand" she whispered, leading me back to the sitting room where she went into depth regarding her own witch heritage and then the originals and Nik or rather Niklaus.

Luna knew something was wrong when I let her have a couple days off school and she asked if it was because of Nik. She wasn't naive and she knew that I liked him more than others.

Eventually she asked to go back to school, being at home for so many days was boring so I took her in.

There was no way of avoiding Niklaus when he was waiting beside my car with a look of hurt throughout him. I tried to ignore him and just open the door but his hand touched my arm and I pulled away quickly. He caged me against the car and I could feel fear consuming me.

"Y/n" he murmured, his tone so soft that it confused me again. "Love, if I've done something to upset to upset you or scare you..." He trailed, his hands cupping both sides of my face and I couldn't help but enjoy the warmth he always had. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know how to get out of the situation I was in and it was making me panic further.

"I need to go to work" I whispered quietly, weakly.

"I know..." he mumbled, "but...I need you and... you won't even look at me"

"You don't need me Nik" I told him, "It was only a few dates-"

"It's not" he argued

"We haven't slept together so it's not a big deal-"

"That's a lie and you know it" he whispered, exasperated.

I glanced up at him, and then I wasn't able to look away. He was right, it was a much bigger deal than I wanted to admit. We had connected on a much more emotional level than anyone I had before, other than my husband those years ago.

"We can't be together" I whispered and his frown deepened

"Did I kiss you too soon? I never meant to rush you" he muttered, concern displayed across his face

"It's not that-"

"Then what-"

"You're a vampire!" I whisper-yelled and his mouth snapped shut. "Or a hybrid or something...I don't...I can't..."

He stayed silent and stepped back, allowing me to open my car door and get in. I didn't hesitate in driving away.

I didn't see him when I picked up Luna however I did receive a message later that evening.

Hello, my love I do hope you'll one day forgive me for keeping my true identity a secret. I never meant to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable, however I suppose that's why I didn't tell you. I like you very much, more than I have liked someone in many years and I love that you're such a lovely mother. I've thoroughly enjoyed our dates and I had hoped that we would progress our relationship however I understand that you are afraid for yourself and for Luna. Know that I would never, ever harm your daughter. I have one of my own and I know what it's like to love and worry for a child. I would never hurt either of you. Still, I know you will probably feel alarmed by my presence so I'll leave you be is that's would you want, all I ask is that you please don't tell others of my species as it puts Hope's life endanger and all I want is for her and you to be safe. I don't expect a reply but know that I will always have a space for you in my heart.

I could feel my heart aching as I read down to the bottom line.

I didn't see him anywhere for the next too weeks and I found myself missing him terribly.

Eventually I couldn't take it. I found that I didn't see him as anything other than a man. Not a monster or a threat. Just someone I cared for deeply and knowing that I had hurt him made me feel terribly guilty.

So I ended up messaging for him to meet me outside a little cafe. I had already ordered and paid for our drinks and was sat at a table waiting for him to arrive anxiously.

He got there exactly on time like always and sat opposite me with a singular flower for in his hand which he held out for me and I accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you" I whispered and his lips curled up as his hand moved to hold my hand and I let him, holding his back.

We spoke for a while, discussed who he was and how he got here, his intentions and any of my other questions before talking about our relationship again. I told him about my neighbour and he said he knew her last name and that decades ago her family had been involved with his brother, Kol, which resulted in a rather brutal and tragic even.

He admitted to being apart of the massacre and didn't attempt to justify his actions but just apologised for them and offered to formally apologise to Dorothy.

So, I brought him to her home and she instantly attacked him. It was only when I got in the way and she accidentally hurt me instead that she stopped. I was holding onto my head and crying while Klaus held me to his chest and tried to have me drink his blood which I now knew would heal me but the idea of it made me gag. Eventually I let the metallic taste fill my mouth and swallowed it down, the pain went away in a matter of seconds and Dot was hysterically sorry.

Klaus wouldn't let her near me and instead lifted me up and took me home. Dot begged me not to invite him in but I did so anyway.

He sat me down on the couch and kept asking if I was still hurt no matter how many times I told him that I was okay. He seemed more sorry than Dorothy and wouldn't stop checking me over.

It made me see just how much he cared and how honest he was being when he said he didn't want any harm to come to me. I could also see him resisting the urge to go back over to Dot after her causing me pain.

Eventually we had to go get Hope and Luna. No other parents so much as glanced our way when we both arrived in my car and I glanced to Klaus with the sneaking suspicion that he had compelled some of the women there but I didn't ask.

I let him officially meet Luna and although she was shy, she told me that she liked him once we got home.

Hope and Luna had a couple of play dates and everyone was getting along.

Luna started to ask for Nik sometimes, and once or twice she had accidentally called him 'dad' or 'daddy' though she would deny it afterwards and cry because she didn't want her father to think she was replacing him which would break my heart without fail.

Hope was a little older than Luna so more mature, Klaus didn't have the same issues I was having.

It had been months, over a year since our first date and Klaus told me that he loved me. It was a reality check of sorts. It scared me a little.

I had to start really thinking. Klaus was immortal and hope had powers. Luna and I would never be anything more than human. We would never be powerful and one day I would get old and Klaus wouldn't love me the way he does now, for all I know another woman could catch his eye and he would leave Luna and I right back where we were. Alone.

It worried me more when Luna asked if Nik and Hope could live with us. It was something I know Nik had considered, he had spoken about it a couple times but we never really came to a final decision. However I had to think about that now.

Klaus was already adamant that I shouldn't have to work so much but the fear of him leaving, or worse...dying, made me cling onto my job for stability. I couldn't ever risk not having a roof over Luna's head and that meant never relying on anybody. I know Nik doesn't really understand that fear. He promises that, even though it won't ever happen, if we did break up then he would never let myself or Luna to be struggling.

"I could never do that to you" he promised after I told him of the thoughts that haunted my head.

"Not now maybe...but I don't know...what if something really bad happened?" I asked quietly and he frowned, cupping my jaw and kissing my forehead as we lay in my bed for the third night in a row while Luna and Hope had another sleepover a couple doors over.

"Nothing could ever be bad enough for me to do that" he whispered and I looked down as i traced meaningless shapes onto his bare chest.

"What if...what if you were killed or something?" I mumbled, wincing at the thought and memories.

"Then I would leave everything to you and you and Luna and Hope would be living like royalty" he murmured and I game him an unconvincing half-smile.

"Well...what if something happened to me?" I questioned and he went quiet, just looking at me for a moment before replying.

"Then I would raise Luna as well as I could, and we would think of you and love you always" he finally answered and I lay my head down against his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular.

“You have to promise…that even if you hate me, you can’t ever hate Luna” I whisper. His hold tightened on me and I was pulled as close as physically possible.

“I promise” he agreed as I closed my eyes as I tried to relax as much as I could.

I won’t lie, I had to be reassured more than I thought. I just couldn’t stop the worries.

But Klaus always had the perfect thing to say, he always made me feel safe and comfortable. He made Luna happy and he was a new beginning for both of us. Him and Hope were our family now, Always and Forever.

(I’m so sorry I didn’t add any smut or another addition…maybe I could make a part two and involve their family growing?? I think I got too invested in the emotional side when writing)

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hanjisick · 2 months

Text

yandere!stray kids reaction to … your confession.

warning. this is not how i portray the members of stray kids or how you should either. this is purely for entertainment purposes.

cw. alcohol. implied murder. stalking. kidnapping. manipulation.

bang chan.

it was late at night. he had just taken you out on an ice cream date, and now you both were lingering on the doorstep of your home, trying to make the last few moments last forever.

“i think that i might like you, no, i think this is love, chan.”

his heart raced at the confession, but he didn’t hesitate to reply.

“i love you too, y/n.”

he would go home thinking about this moment, his stomach full of nervous butterflies.

the first thing he would do is clutch the tank top that he had stolen from you in his hands, sniffing the material and thinking back to that beautiful moment.

this was all part of the plan. once you finally loved him, it would be so easy to just take you.

and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

lee know

you would’ve been minho’s girl for long before falling in love with the monster. i mean, how could you love this man? even if he was obsessed with you, to the point of being more than willing to spill blood for you, the thought of loving him was terrifying.

but slowly, through months upon months of losing your mind, it would’ve been while he was cooking dinner for the two of you.

his back was facing you as you sat on top of the counter, swinging your legs back and forth.

something about the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he measured ingredients, or the knife in his hand as he crushed the garlic.

minho caught you staring eventually. “what are you looking at, my love?”

a blush dusted across your cheeks. “you look handsome like this.”

his chopping halted. it would’ve been the first time that you’ve seen him truly flustered since meeting him. “i do?”

“i think i love you.”

changbin

it would be hard to not fall for the only man that you were ever allowed to see.

every day, like a mantra, you were told the same thing: you only need changbin. friends don’t compare to changbin. your family is changbin.

eventually it would’ve been hard to not give into the conditioning.

it was late at night and changbin still wasn’t home. you caught yourself feeling disappointed, looking forward to the one person that you saw in the day.

so when he arrived back home, you couldn’t help but jump up, greeting him at the door.

“i missed you.”

he stood in place for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around you too. “what’s gotten into you, my darling?”

“why were you out so late?”

“i had to take care of some things,” he pulled away, nervously, “and you missed me?”

“of course i did. i love you.”

a wide smile spread across his face. “you love me? really?”

hyunjin

“i can’t believe he’s gone. i loved him so much, i don’t even know what to do with myself now.”

hyunjin rubbed your back soothingly, rocking you back and forth as you let out deep sobs into his shoulder. “i know you loved your friend, he was very kind to you.”

too kind. but you wouldn’t understand that— which is why he had to eliminate him.

“who’s gonna be there for me now? he always knew what to say and do.”

“i will always be right here. always. i can promise that to you.”

after a moment of sniffles, you pulled away slightly, staring at him with your puffy eyes that broke his heart. “i love you, hyunjin.”

“what do you mean?”

“i think i’m in love with you.” you were hysterical from the loss of your friend, not having slept for over 24 hours, and your head fuzzy from crying all day.

he was going to take advantage of that. “i love you too, y/n.”

jisung

the boy had been stalking you for ages. following you to classes, work, home— he knew everything about you at this point.

his first thought when you walked towards him, before he could even process your confession, was that you were so close to him. you had never been this close. he had only seen you from a distance.

the smell of you made him dizzy. he had sniffed your shampoos before, sure, stolen your underwear, bought your perfumes to spray around his house— but this was a whole new level and—

“hello? excuse me?”

he was brought back into reality as you waved your hands in front of his face, the butterflies replaced themselves with shock once you had asked for his number, admitting your feelings for him.

“a crush? me? you?” he stammered.

“i’ve seen you around and i think that you’re very attractive.”

felix

you were drunk out of your mind, right on his lap, dozing off on his shoulder. he was already losing it.

“felix, i think i have a crush on you.”

“what?” he pulled you up to look him in the eyes.

you giggled. “you’re so handsome. i’m so in love with you.”

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

perhaps you wouldn’t feel the same if you knew how many times his hands have gotten bloody for you, exactly how far his infatuation with you went.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking, lix. tell me.”

instead of telling you his feelings, he decided to show them.

his hand met the back of your neck, leaning in to meet your lips.

seungmin

“i need to be honest.”

“yes?” your friend turned towards you on the couch, “you can tell me anything, y/n.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

it was like the world had stopped for him.

no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. he was supposed to confess to you once the time was right. he needed to be confident and ready with your favorite flowers and a speech.

“seungmin?”

he couldn’t even respond, his entire face hot from your confession.

“you can tell me if you don’t feel the same way, i hope it doesn’t ruin things between us.”

“no! no!” he stammered out, “i love you too. i’ve loved you forever.”

it took him a moment to gather his thoughts together, “you’re beautiful. i’d love for you to be my girlfriend. i would treat you like a princess, every day of my life.”

now it was your turn to become a mess.

jeongin

it was all an accident.

you meant to send that text to one of your friends.

‘jeongin was so cute today. u should’ve seen him. it took everything in me to not kiss him’

within minutes, he was knocking on your door with the wind knocked out of him.

“you weren’t supposed to see that,” your face was red, not even trying to excuse your actions.

“what about me was cute?”

“your hair. it was messy— and your jacket. i loved it. and fuck— i just love you. i have a crush on you, jeongin, you caught me.”

“i’ll wear that damn jacket every single day for you to say that about me.”

“what?” your eyes widened.

“i love you too, y/n.”

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shadowandlightt · 3 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X 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

A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3

Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across.

“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting.

“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book.

“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.”

“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-”

You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you.

“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange.

She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken.

“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”

It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him

To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this.

“Please come home,” Mor begged.

“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.”

“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.”

“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”

“What are you talking about?” She questions.

“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.”

“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.”

“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.

Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother.

“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.”

Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”

“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.”

“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers.

You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time?

You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you.

“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.”

You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done?

“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”

“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes.

“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”

She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left.

You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years.

You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick.

Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back.

No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame.

You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened.

“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”

“Enjoy.”

“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”

“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”

“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.”

Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too.

“I can’t come back.”

“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged.

“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”

“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.”

“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now.

Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest.

“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued.

You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares.

“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”

He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”

“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden.

The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened.

You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days.

He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them.

You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them

“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.”

“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”

The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones. Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around.

A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill.

As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life.

Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him.

There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”

It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being.

“Az,” you cry out softly.

He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him.

“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.

“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in.

He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay.

He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back.

“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.”

Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.

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dycefic · 1 year

Text

The Hearthstone God

[The sequel to the God of Prophecy, and the Serpent God of Protection]

---

Fire is out of fashion, in this new age.

Some of my kind have found new homes, new names, in factories or forges, in the hearts of wildfires or crystals or volcanoes.

Most of us are simply forgotten.

I was a fire god, once. A god of gathering, a god of communion, a god of song and story. But there are no hearthstones now. No fires around which families gather to eat and talk and tell stories.

I am lucky. I am tied to a great flat stone near a lake. A lake that has survived all the wild exuberance of men, when they learned to change the world around them. Once, this was a place where travellers stopped to rest. At first they travelled on their feet, or on half-wild horses. Then there were carts, and a road. Much later, cars drove down the road. The road was paved.

But some things do not change. People need clean water to drink, and the spring here is good. They need to rest, when they are weary. And even now, when they come to camp in nylon tents, to fish in the lake, or to hunt the ducks, or drive camper-vans to the flat place, their ancient instincts wake, and they turn to fire once more. They light new fires atop my stone, so flat and safe, from which no log will roll to set the woods afire.

Not so many come now. Camping is less popular these days. But some still come. Some still light their fires, and settle around my stone, and talk, or listen to music, or tell stories. So I survive, just barely, on the edges of belief.

I feel it, when things begin to change. Something is happening. Something is drawing old gods back. Not the great ones, risen beyond mortal understanding, but the oldest gods, the small gods, those who rose when humankind were still learning what they were.

Far to the west of me, a god even more ancient than I wakes, and begins to hunt again. I remember the stories that were once told of that old serpent, and tell them over to myself in the long fireless nights.

A god of prophecy, not of this land, settles south and west, and I remember tales of ancient ravens, their wisdom and their guile and their sharp, sharp eyes. There was a raven clan once, who passed this way in the days of skin garments and stone tools, but I have forgotten their name. I only remember the symbol they wore, the black bird with its spread wings, marked in charcoal or charring on wooden talismans or leather garments.

I wait, to see who will awaken next.

To my great surprise, it is me.

The people who come this time aren’t like the campers. They come at night, a ragged family group with few blood ties between them, with a single tent and few possessions carried on devices I haven’t seen before. Bicycles, they’re called, slung over with bags the way ponies used to be. They come at night, and hide when cars pass on the road.

They light a fire on my stone, with wood scavenged from the forest, and huddle around its warmth. They don’t speak much, not at first, but they say enough. They have no home, I learn. They are travellers of a kind I have not known before, who are allowed to stop nowhere, but have no goal but a place to rest. They are thin, and worn, and so tired. So very tired.

They need a hearth.

I am only a weak shadow of a god, now, who once recorded the songs and stories of a thousand generations in my ancient stone, but I am still a god of fire. Their fire burns slow, their little fuel lasting well. The food they heat over it sustains them better. The water of that spring, my spring, puts a little life back in them. This stone has lain in this place since great monsters walked this world, since before humans spoke words to one another, and I came into being with the first fire that burned on it. I am old, old, and though weak, I am not powerless.

They stay.

I cannot speak to them. I am old, and weak, and they do not believe. But slowly, with the power of the fires they build every night, with the tiny offerings of scraps of food spilled into the flames, with their growing confidence in the safety of this place, I am able to do more. I give them dreams and they find the cave not far away, where they can hide. They dream of fish, and begin to try to catch some. A woman remembers that some of the local plants are safe to eat, when I slowly wake a long-forgotten memory of a camping trip from her childhood.

And then a child, a strange, quiet child who rarely speaks, a child without mother or father, in the care of an older brother who is exhausted to the very edge of death but cannot give up while she needs him… that child begins to hear.

She sits on my stone, sometimes for hours, not moving or speaking. It worries the others, but at least she is quiet, at least she is no trouble, and they are beginning to associate their hearth with safety. So they let her sit.

She is *listening*. She is listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of the forest, to the wind blowing. And because she is listening, where no-one else has listened for so long, I sing to her. I sing to her the songs of thousands of years. From the wordless music of the earliest people, who sang what was in their hearts without words, to the songs I have learned from the fishermen with their radios and bluetooth speakers.

I do not know if she hears me, for some time. But then, one night, while they sit around their fire and eat food the oldest have almost certainly stolen, she sings one of my songs. “In a cavern… on a canyon… excavating for a mine…” she sings in a small voice. The others are startled, confused, for she has not spoken aloud since some bad thing they do not name happened, but one of the older ones knows the song and sings with her.

I have always liked ‘Clementine’. It’s been popular with campers for a long time.

The next day, while she sits on my stone, she sings along to one of the wordless songs the Raven People whose name I no longer remember once sang. It is a lullaby, a soft croon to soothe an infant, passed from mother to mother, and she seems to take pleasure in it.

She can hear me. She can even answer me, as the voice driven away by pain and fear begins to return. And so I grow stronger still. Strong enough to make the raven sign on the stone, one day, in the ashes of the fire of the night before.

She takes a half burned stick, and draws the sign on the stone. Pleased, I show her another sign, a leaping fish. She draws that too.

Soon, I need not shift the ashes. I can show her the pictures in her mind, and she draws them. She draws the wheel of a cart, and into her heart I whisper the stories the travellers in covered wagons once told over my stone. She draws a fish, and I make her laugh silently with the jests of fishermen who boast of fish who escaped them. She draws a horse, and I tell her about the wild horses who once drank at this lake, about the men and women who captured and tamed them and rode them through the forest when it was far greater than it is now. She draws a long-toothed cat, and I show her the great cat that once slept on my stone, and denned in the cave where her new found family sleep.

One night, when all the others are asleep and my fire has burned down to coals, she creeps back to the stone and looks into the coals. “Who are you?” she asks. “Are you real?”

She is afraid that the voice in her mind is the voice of madness, a lie created by a mind that does not work like other minds, that has endured great hardship. I do not want this child to be afraid. To instill fear runs counter to my very nature, save in whoever might threaten those my hearth protects.

I am a god of the hearth. I am a god of food, and communication, and peace, and safety. I am all the things that fire used to mean, before humans learned again to fear the thing they had tamed. I do not often take a form, for fire is my form, but for her I must try.

There was a wise woman once, who knew me, whose clan visited this lake several times every year. I watched her grow up, and grow old. I watched her learn of the god of the fire stone, and I watched her teach others. She slept beside me as a child, and as a woman. She sang her children to sleep beside me, and her grandchildren, and dozed beside me as an old, old woman. To her, I was represented by a sign of a flame in an oval, a fire and a stone.

I build a likeness of her out of the light of the coals and the shadows of smoke, a child with straight dark hair and a simple tunic, and in lines of light I draw the sign of the fire and the stone on the outlined chest. “I am the fire,” I tell her, “and the stone. I am all the fires that have ever burned here, all the stories told, all the songs sung, all the meals eaten. I am the traveler’s hearth, and the rest for the weary, and this is my place.”

“Piedra de fuego,” she says, tracing the symbol with her finger in the air. “The fire stone.”

“Yes. I am the god of this place.”

She frowns at this. “My brother says that God is in the sky.”

“Many gods are in the sky.” I cannot continue to hold the form of the girl, but the coals shift to make my sign. “I am not. I am here. I have always been here, since the first people built a fire on my stone, and warmed themselves.”

She nods slowly. “You are… a small god,” she says thoughtfully. “A place god. Like in movies.”

“Yes.” I’ve heard of movies, which are a new way of telling old, old stories. “Old places, important places, often have gods. And gods who are forgotten return to their old places and wait, until someone believes again.”

“Will you protect us?” she asks. “When the police come, to tell us to move on?”

“I am not strong,” I tell her sadly. “I cannot make men go away from here, if they are dangerous, or even call game here for you as I once did. But what I can do, I will do.”

She sits watching the coals for a long time, thinking. “Can we make you stronger?”

I think too, and she waits patiently. “You have already made me stronger. You listened. You believed. If you can convince the others to believe, that will make me stronger still.”

She sighed. “They don’t believe in anything, anymore. Not good things.”

It is a sad thing, that she knows that. They’ve been trying to hide it from her. “Then,” I tell her, “that means there is a place in their hearts that is ready for me. I am not hope. I am not a happy ending. I am not a god in the sky. I am a stone, and a fire, and a song. I am *real*. They can believe in what is real.”

The next night, she asks for a story, and one of the adults tells her an old fairy-tale from a country far away.

The next night, again, she asks for a story, and another adult tells a funny story about his childhood.

On the third night, she asks her brother to tell her a story. He tries, but he is so tired - not physically, but emotionally - that he runs out of words. So she lays her hand on his arm and offers to tell him a story, instead.

And she tells them all a story about a stone near a lake, flat and strong, that people wearing uncured skins and carrying flint weapons built a fire on. She tells of centuries passing, of people coming to the lake on their feet, on horses, in carts and wagons, in cars and motor-homes. Of thousands of years of fires, of people gathered around them, of the great continuity of humanity, and the Piedra De Fuego that has lain in this place since time began, listening to the stories and the songs and the voices of people long gone. Somewhere in the stone, she says, laying her hand on it, all those stories are remembered. All those songs are still sung. And it will remember us too.

I don’t know if it will work. But I was right. People need to believe in something. They need something to hold onto, when times are hard, when the ties of community and family are broken and they feel alone. And a stone thousands of years old, and a fire endlessly renewed on that stone, always new… that is real. They touch me, and think of those who came before, of thousands of years of history meeting them in this place, and they feel less alone.

It’s not much, not yet. But it is something. My nature, my existence, as explained to them by my small, strange priestess, is a slender lifeline flung to those who are adrift, a tiny certainty in a world they do not trust. And the more they believe in that lifeline, that certainty, then the more they believe in me. I *am* growing stronger.

When the police come, I will not be able to make them leave… but I think I am strong enough now to hide my people from unkind eyes. And if I can do that, then their faith will grow.

Tonight, three more people come. A mother and two children, weary and beaten down with hardship. My people welcome them, give them fish and greens grown by the lake, speak kindly to them. And when they have eaten, my little priestess sits between the two children and tells them a story of a stone, and a fire, and thousands of years of stories and songs, and she sings a wordless lullaby six thousand years forgotten, but living again in a child who draws the sign of the Raven in the dirt while she sings, and the sign of the fire on the stone.

And I grow a little stronger.

#short fiction #original story #i aten't dead #the old gods #small gods #household gods #forgotten gods who do not forget

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lizslibrary · 2 months

Text

Facade

Summary: Bucky x Reader fic where Reader is sick but decides to go on a mission anyway.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please comment or critique it; I am always open to suggestions. I also struggled on finding a good ending, so I just decided to leave the rest of the story up to the imagination of the reader. 🥰

Warnings: assassin!reader, Sickness; flu, overexertion, guns, fighting, fainting, Slowburn (Picks up in the end,) angst, fluff, guilt, angry Bucky

Word count: 2,007

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I lean my back against the side of the jet, trying to appear as normal as possible. We were going on a HYDRA intel mission and I was sick. I knew going on this mission was a bad decision, but I couldn’t let my team down.

As I took a deep breath, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me; I didn’t even have to look over to know it was Bucky. He stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted slightly backward. I could tell he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

A few minutes later, the plane landed in a remote location, and slowly, the back door dropped with a soft hiss. I unstrapped my seatbelt and hoisted my gun over my shoulder walking down the ramp and into a thick layer of snow. The cold air felt nice against my flushed cheeks, and I sighed as I watched the rest of the team trail out of the jet.

Steve stood confidently as he began giving orders, “Sam and Natasha, patrol the outside; make notes of everyone entering and exiting the compound.” “y/n, Bucky and I will take the inside, working on containing and evacuating evidence that may be crucial to Hydra’s destruction.” Steve stood silent for a moment. “Does everyone understand?”

Everyone nodded and stood next to their partners. I notice Bucky watching me from behind Steve. I turned my head away from him so I wouldn’t give myself away. I knew that if he found out I was sick, he would stop the mission and make us turn around.

“The snow is thick, walk slow and conserve energy…we have the whole day ahead of us,” Steve says, beginning to walk forward.

Everyone trudges behind Steve in silence, our footsteps making quiet crunching sounds through the snow. I follow closely behind Steve, while Bucky trails closely behind me. I make sure to place my feet in Steve's already deep footprints, the last thing I wanted was to be drained of my energy before we'd even reach the compound.

I look up at the dark gray sky; we must be high up in the mountains, looking down on what seems like endless miles of nothingness. It wasn't surprising that HYDRA would be located here, being a rather isolated organization.

A little while later I began to make out the rectangular shape of the compound through the dense snow that was falling from the sky. My hands were getting numb from holding onto the straps on my gun holster and my legs ached from walking through the snow. Steve looked over at me, I saw concern but I just gave him a reassuring nod and pushed forward.

As we got closer, I noticed that the base was a massive, grey complex. The building was made of concrete and had no windows, just little square holes that littered the walls...it reminded me of a prison.

Steve came to a stop and crouched behind a concrete barrier, he motioned for us to do the same. The team huddled beside Steve and watched the camp, it was only a few yards away allowing us to see movement from behind the large, barbed fence.

"Send Redwing out, we need to see the safest route for entry," Steve ordered. Sam was quick to oblige, sending the drone into the snowfall.

It hovered above the entrance to the complex, giving us an accurate view of how many guards there were. There were three men posted around the entrance, all wearing black helmets. One of them remained stationed by the gate while the other two patrolled around the gate.

Sam watched the feed from the drone, scanning the screen for any more guards, "Seems like there are only three near the entrance...if you can take them out you have a clear path to a set of double doors." Sam said looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye "The problem is...how are you gonna get in?"

"Tony said that there should be a keypad on the outside, luckily for us he managed to find the code," Steve said with a small grin on his face, I could hear a small chuckle come from Bucky.

Natasha shook her head "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."

"Sam, keep a watch on Redwing and head to the left side of the building. Natasha, you take right." Steve says "Bucky y/n, follow me...be aware of your surroundings."

As soon as the plan is said, we jump into action. Steve begins creeping towards the front of the complex, with the sound of our footsteps ringing in the snow-covered ground, while Bucky and I cover him. Steve slams his shield into the neck of one of the guards while I wrestle another to the ground and knock him unconscious. My head is spinning as I stand up but I help Bucky take care of the last guy.

With the first threat taken care of, we hurry over to where Steve is standing, "This way," Steve points at a door on the side of the building. We follow closely behind him and watch his back as he types in the code on the keypad.

He grabs the handle and turns it. The door creaks open slowly, revealing a very dimly lit hallway. Steve leads the way down the hall. The smell of damp stone fills the air, with the faint scent of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air. We follow silently behind Steve until we get to the end of the hallway, where it opens up into two different hallways.

“I’ll take the right side, y/n Bucky go left,” Steve says

Bucky and I walk down the left hallway and I can feel my palms getting sweaty with each step. Something felt wrong, where was everyone? Why were there no HYDRA agents? I glance over at Bucky and see that he has a crease in his eyebrows, I could tell he was wondering the same thing. I grip my gun closer to my chest, it was eerily quiet and something felt off…very off.

As we near the end of the hallway we enter a large room. It was filled with old dusty computers and lots of filing cabinets. I approach one of the computers and take out the hard drive making sure to put it in my pocket in hopes that it will be important intell. I watch Bucky enter a side room and suddenly the lights turn off and I jolt when I hear the loud slam of a door shutting.

It’s pitch black and I can hear footsteps circling me in the room “Y/N!? Y/N!” Bucky is pounding his fist on the other side of the door.

I feel disoriented and dizzy as I try and move around the room “Bucky!? Where-?” I am cut off by a gloved hand covering my mouth; I scream and slam my elbow into the person behind me.

My breathing becomes more labored as I try and fight off the people attacking me. I feel myself on the verge of passing out.

I grab my knife out of my pocket and slam it blindly into someone's torso. I lose my balance and I fall backward, causing my head to slam against the corner of the table. I let out a yell of pain and felt a warm liquid running down my neck.

I scramble back into a wall and feel someone else's hands on me, I try and fight back but my movements are disoriented; I am helpless.

As soon as I feel all hope is lost, the door bursts open filling the room with light. Before I know what’s happening gunshots ring out and silence fills the room. My vision is swimming and I see a familiar, blurry silhouette approaching me; guilt fills my stomach.

“M-..sorry Bucky…” I slur as fight from blacking out.

Bucky scoops me up in his arms, and before I know it he is sprinting out of the compound and into the snow. My body is limp in his arms and I can hear him murmuring incoherent prayers as he runs.

Soon, we reach the jet, and he quickly puts me on the medical table. Everything around me is blurry and I don’t know what is happening.

I am so tired. Maybe I should sleep. Bucky wouldn’t be mad if I just slept for a minute…

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My mind is pulled into the dark, tempting world of sleep.

A bright light fills my vision as I wake up. I blink a couple of times in an attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the light. What happened? Where am I? Several thoughts plagued my mind all at once and my body flings itself into an upright position.

Bucky stands up as soon as he sees me awake "Hey, hey! You're okay, you are safe.." Bucky says, gently trying to get me to lay back down.

The memories of last night flood my mind and I feel an intense wave of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I take a small glance at Bucky and notice the relief in his eyes quickly turn to that of hurt, maybe even anger. The look in his eyes pained me to see, I knew he felt upset about my actions.

"Bucky...I-"

"Why?" he says suddenly, staring me straight in my eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Bucky closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself "Sorry doesn't cut it." He says sharply "You almost died y/n."

I look away from him and shake my head "I know...but if I hadn't gone someone could have gotten hurt."

I watch anger form in his expression "Liz." His serious tone forces me to look at him "Are you not listening to me? You almost died!" His tone gets louder as he talks, "When I brought you back on the jet you were burning up and sweating...did you know that your fever almost reached 103."

Bucky takes a step backward and faces the wall, he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Do you understand that had I not been there and broken through a metal wall, you would be dead." He turns to face me again "Do you not understand that if you had died in that room; I would have blamed myself?" He looked me in the eyes "Do you not understand that if you died, I would have nothing else to live for?"

"Better me dead than you," I say quietly.

Bucky clenches his fist and inhales a sharp breath "Never, and I mean never, say that shit to me ever again." He grabs my hands and stands silently. "y/n, you give me a reason to wake up in the morning; the feeling I get when I see your gorgeous, happy face in the morning makes me feel alive."

I stare at him speechlessly and he continues "I know this is a terrible place, and a terrible time but I have to tell you..." The look he gives me makes my body tingle "I love you. I love you too much to the point where it hurts...and when we were in that compound I watched as the life drained from your eyes, and I felt more scared in that moment than I have ever had in my entire life...because I knew that If you were to die, I would have nothing left to get me out of bed in the morning, I would have nothing left to get me home safe from missions, I would have no more life because without you; I have none."

Bucky's words make it feel like the world has stopped, like it's just me and him and nothing can stop us from being together. I stare at Bucky's beautiful eyes, and he stares at mine; they tell me that I am here, that I am alive, and that I'm next to the person I love and care about most in this world.

#bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #soft bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

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shardsofmarxx · 3 months

Text

Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff

Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)

Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)

As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.

“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something.

You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”

“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.”

You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.

“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.

“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”

You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”

"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.

“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.

Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.

“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”

You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself?

You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.

"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.

That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives.

“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”

You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did.

He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”

You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation.

Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”

“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did.

“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.

You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important.

You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.

“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.

You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.

Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.

You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.

“Y/N!!! Hel-!”

You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.

“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.

“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.

“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.

“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine.

“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.

“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”

Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt.

After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.

“And now, the grand finale!”

You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.

“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed.

Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating.

You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.

Suddenly, it stopped.

“Hey Y/N.”

As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.

You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.

You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs.

Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.

“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”

You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts.

Basically, you looked like crap.

Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.

He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault.

"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”

He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.

“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”

“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.

Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.

“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."

Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.

“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.

Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”

You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest.

“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.

“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”

You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.

Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke.

“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.

“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."

Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.

“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter.

“Yeah, we sure do.”

Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.

“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response.

“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.

You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.

“What did you say, Spencer?”

“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms.

“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thanks so much for reading!

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sinsofsummers · 10 months

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insatiable

1.3k | marc spector x f!reader

summary: you can never get enough of marc. and marc? he's not complaining. warnings: literally nothing but smut (duh), oral (m receiving), fingering, marc being a little shit, whimpering, begging, masturbation (f), throat-fucking, etc.

Giving Marc head during the worst possible times of his day is your version of fun.

There's nothing quite like the look of unbridled desire that blooms in his eyes every time he sees you sink to your knees in front of him, a pleading smile on your lips..

"Please, baby, I'm busy," he'll always say, as if to protest. But you know he just says it for show; he'll never stop thanking his lucky stars for how desperately insatiable you can be.

Because when your throat feels empty, it feels hollow, and the only thing that can make you return to yourself is his thick, veiny cock stuffed down your throat until your nose brushes the coarse patch of hair at the base.

If he's about to fall asleep? No better bedtime story than the sound of you gagging on the swollen head of his cock touching the back of your throat, your hands splayed on his thighs for balance.

He's on the phone? You'll kneel before him like a zealot bends to pray, and you'll take him into your mouth without a word, hardly even a look into his eyes, while he stifles his moans.

He comes home from another hard day as Moon Knight? You're there for him, ready to pull him down to the bed and let him lose his worries with your mouth around him.

And now? He's just gotten out of the shower, towel draped sinfully low on his hips, his chest a canvas of scars and muscles and droplets of water that still run down the rivets of his stomach.

You've been trying to distract yourself with...well, anything, but that's been awfully hard considering your favorite man is in much need of a relaxing shower. You'd almost gone in with him, but had refrained when you saw the hard look in his eye.

You could be his treat after the shower. Besides, you'd convinced yourself, he needed those quiet moments to come back to himself from a long day.

Of course, the temptation had been so strong that you'd had to resort to sinking your hand into your shorts to keep yourself from interrupting his alone time.

"Look at you," he muses when he steps out of the bathroom, leaning down to drop a kiss on your head. "Keeping yourself busy, I see?"

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice, and you can feel the droplets of water from his hair land on your arm. It cools your hot skin, and your fingers stop circling your clit. "Couldn't help myself," you shrug with a smirk, "what else am I s'posed to do when I know you're just a few feet away, looking as good as you do?"

His smirk remains on his face, but you swear you can see it grow wider when he flits his eyes down to where your hand has disappeared under the soft material of your lounge shorts. "You want something, sweetheart?" he teases, and your face burns.

"Only you," you reply, your voice thick. Pulling your hand from your shorts, you hold out your shining fingers to his mouth, tapping them against his bottom lip before placing them over your tongue, gently sucking your sweet juices from your own fingertips.

"C'mere," you coo. "Wanna taste you, Marc."

It doesn't take much more than that to get him to drop his towel, laying back on the bed with his feet dangling off the edge, just enough to reach the floor. His cock is already half-mast, a delicious challenge for you to conquer. Before you put your mouth over his tip, he reaches out to tug at your waistband. "Lemme see that pretty pussy, baby," he says, his voice always a quiet command. "I wanna hear you play with yourself while you suck my cock."

You bite your lip with a grin and obey. You usually allow him these little requests; it makes him feel like he's in control for the few minutes before you've got him writhing and whimpering beneath you.

With one hand on your clit, rubbing rhythmic circles on your bundle of nerves, breathy moans dropping from your lips, you lift your eyes to his and open your mouth, taking him softly.

At first. You like to watch his lips quiver as he tries to hold in the desperate moans. No matter how many times you find yourself in this position, Marc's moans remain loud and plentiful, turning into an unforgettable chorus of whines when you inevitably take him down to the base of his cock.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, throwing his arm over his face. "You know just how to make me feel better, honey. That's it, fuck—"

His voice catches when you moan around him, the vibrations stiffening his cock in an instant. Your throat is deliciously full, and you hollow your cheeks for a moment, sucking hard and fast to watch him crumble to pieces.

Now you've got him where you want him.

"Do I make you feel good, Marc?" you ask sweetly when you lift your mouth from him for a moment's reprieve.

It's all he can do to nod, a whine squeezing its way from his throat. "Always so good, doll," he heaves, his hips straining up from the bed. "I wanna—please—"

You dip your tongue down and swirl it gently around his tip, lapping up the precum with an appreciative moan. "Ask nicely, baby," you tease him, your hand curling around his length and delivering a courteous, languid stroke.

His hips stutter. "More, please," he breathes. "Wanna fuck your throat. Please."

For a moment, you pause to look at him. He looks absolutely wrecked. You've never gotten him this desperate so quickly. "And you say I'm insatiable," you murmur. "Come on, Marc. Fuck my throat. Play with me how you want."

His hands come down to the back of your head with almost no warning but a, "thank fuck," and then your eyes are squeezing shut as he plants his feet to the ground, bucking his hips faster and harder into your mouth, watching your hair fall into your eyes.

"That's it, baby," he mutters, and you relish in the deep gravelly tone that his voice takes. "Want me to come down this pretty throat?"

You can't even reply; his hips don't stop until his groans grow louder, and longer, and his hands grip your hair in tight fists, nearly pulling it out from the roots. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," he hums. "Gonna come, baby, gonna—"

He loses all coherence when he comes, and it's music to your ears as his hips stutter once more before falling back to the bed, his hands still pulling you to the base of his cock as he pulses, painting the walls of your throat with his release.

When he loosens his grip, you lift your head and swallow, swiping a finger under your lip to catch any drops that might have fallen. Nothing but a smug chuckle passes your lips.

"What?" he asks, his chest heaving and lined in a sheen of sweat.

Your hand returns to your core, having removed it when he was fucking your throat. "Nothing," you say, feigning innocence. "It's just..."

His lips curl up. "Lemme take care of you, baby," he says with a hand reaching for you. Despite his fatigue, his arms are strong as he pulls you up on the bed. "Wanna return the favor," he murmurs, and his hands find your hips, pulling you to straddle his chest.

"Yeah?" you tease, and you can't help but wonder how fucked out the both of you look. No doubt your hair is knotted beyond belief, and with the way he's tugging you closer to his face, making your sopping core hover over his mouth, you're sure it'll be quite a bit longer before the two of you can clean up.

He nods feverishly with a devil's smirk and looks down at your clit, just inches from his nose. "How else would I say thank you?"

#marc spector smut #moon boys #moon knight smut #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant smut #oscar isaac #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x you #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader

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barcaatthemoon · 25 days

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peer pressure ii || lucy bronze x reader ||

the aftermath of you sneaking out to go to a party.

you were pissed as you made your way to the locker room. your fists were clenched, knocking into every corner as you rounded it. most of the team had already arrived, but you had been held up by a fight with your parents. your last fight with your parents if you had anything to do with it. from the way things had been, you doubted that they'd let you back in even if you tried to come back.

"morning kiddo," frido greeted you happily. you didn't even look up at her as you made your way over to your cubby. everybody's eyes were on you, and alexia looked like she was about ready to tell you off about your attitude when frido and ingrid pulled her back. "it's okay, i can talk to her myself."

"bon dia (y/n)," patri said loudly. she made a show of speaking loud enough to make it impossible to ignore without validating a lecture from alexia. lucy smacked the back of patri's head as she walked past, stopping right in front of you.

"let's go for a walk," lucy said. she waited for you to get your boots on before she pulled you up and out of the locker room. everybody was watching the two of you, but not all with the same expression. the team had all heard about you sneaking out to the party, but not all of them knew what had actually happened. alexia seemed to be hung up on the fact that you had drank and smoked weed, even though it was all out of your system by the time that you had been tested.

"are you going to yell at me?" you asked. lucy shook her head as she led you outside of the facility. "what did you want to talk about?"

"when's the last time you went home?" lucy asked you. you shrugged, not really sure where home was anymore. it had been a few days since your parents kicked you out of the house, but you hadn't told anybody yet. all they needed to know right now was that you were fighting with your parents. "where have you been sleeping at night?"

"my car," you mumbled. lucy's eyes widened as the realization of what you said settled in. legally, you weren't allowed to drive for another two years. the fact that you had purchased a car was really just so that you would have something when your driving lessons started next year.

"did you drive it here?" lucy asked you. you nodded, suddenly feeling like you were about to get in major trouble. "when we get back inside, give me your keys. i'll have mapi or someone take it to their place. you can't drive around, especially not here! what if you got in a wreck or something?"

"i've been careful," you mumbled. lucy sighed as she put her arm around your shoulders. "i didn't know what else to do, they told me to leave, so i did. they kicked me out, lucy, and honestly, i don't want to go back. it was one party, one fucking party!"

"hey, it's okay," lucy said as she held you in her arms. you started crying, and she immediately started to soothe you. "you can stay with me, okay?"

"yeah, not like you'd take no for an answer," you chuckled. lucy hummed in agreement, glad that you weren't fighting her on this.

…

living with lucy proved to be the best thing for you. the stress of living with your parents was lifted off of your shoulders. they hadn't wanted you as their daughter, they wanted alexia. lucy was more than content for you to be yourself. she even went as far as to tell you whenever you'd been doing well in practice, and reassuring you whenever you had an off day. it was like night and day, as was your overall attitude.

for the first time in nearly a year, you were back to being the happy kid you had been whenever you first signed with the senior team. things were great, even if you still had a lot of tension with alexia. that wasn't something that would be fixed easily, if it ever would. other than that, everything was going great, which was why you weren't surprised when it suddenly went back again.

you had never gotten a start in an el classico match before. your teammates had warned you that real liked to play it aggressively against barcelona, so you were prepared. lucy had been taking you to the gym with her, which meant that you had really built up a lot of strength in the few months that you'd been living together. their players could knock into you all that they wanted, but it didn't do much to deter you.

"hey, there's someone in the stands waiting for you," ona said as she grabbed onto your elbow. you were scared for a moment that it would be your parents. the group of spanish players at the barrier crowded around jenni helped you to relax. your parents were nowhere in sight, and jenni sent you a questioning look. she remembered meeting your parents before, and they had been huge fans of the team, never missing a game.

"jenni!" you hopped up over the barrier and straight into her arms. she hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i didn't know you were visiting."

"well, that would ruin the surprise. where are your parents? i wanted to say hi." jenni looked around the friends and family section. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, unsure of what you should say to her. "they're usually always here."

"i wouldn't know, we don't talk anymore," you muttered under your breath. you were standing close enough to jenni for her to hear you, but alexia should have been too far away. however, you could tell by the way that her face contorted that she had definitely heard you. "i don't live there anymore."

"what!" alexia exclaimed. you backed up to put some distance between the two of you, using jenni as a human shield as you did. "since when?"

"since they kicked me out. i don't want to talk about it, especially not with you of all people," you said. there was a bite to your voice that alexia hadn't heard in quite some time. you had definitely been distant with her, but it had been a long time since you had been snappy with her like that.

"after this, let's go to dinner, okay?" jenni suggested. you nodded before you raced off to shower and get changed.

…

"you know that alexia only acts like an ass because she cares about you, right?" jenni asked you. she had been trying to get you to talk about what happened, but you very obviously did not want to. "where have you been staying at?"

"lucy let me move in with her," you answered. jenni was relieved that it was someone responsible. alexia was the obvious choice, but there seemed to be some tension there that definitely hadn't been the last time jenni came to visit.

"did alexia have anything to do with you getting kicked out?" jenni asked. she was afraid of the answer, already having invited alexia to dinner. technically, it had always been her, alexia, mapi, and ingrid going out, but she had to invite you when she saw you at the game.

"not directly i guess, but it was hard living there when all they wanted was for me to be just like alexia. they thought i was too focused on things outside of football, so much so that they stopped letting me go to school. by the time i left, they only ever gave me my work whenever i asked to do something else instead," you said. jenni looked pissed as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "i know that i shouldn't be mad at alexia, but i can't help it."

"i understand," jenni told you. she leaned over as the car came to a stop to press a kiss to your cheek. "come on, everybody's waiting for us."

"is alexia there?" you didn't even really need to ask. you knew that jenni hung out with alexia every single time that she came back to spain.

"alexia, olga, ingrid, and mapi are all there. don't worry though, i won't let alexia start anything," jenni promised. you sighed and followed her into the restaurant. almost immediately, mapi pulled you into a hug, going off about how sorry she was that she didn't know anything was up before. ingrid was quick to follow suit, but alexia stayed back, unsure of whether she was welcome to hug you or not anymore.

dinner was nice, even if it was a bit awkward because of alexia's silence. the woman was usually pretty quiet, but she had never gotten quiet like she was then. jenni, ingrid, and mapi worked on distracting you from the tension, but it didn't work. finally, olga seemed to have had enough and pushed for alexia to talk to you.

"you don't have to tell me where you're staying, but are you safe and happy?" alexia asked. you nodded, smiling a little as thought about all the things lucy now did to make sure of that. you were certain that ona had a big part in a lot of the movie and game nights that you got to frequently enjoy, as well as keeping you on your school work. you'd still graduate late because of all the things your parents let you miss, but because of lucy, you hadn't fallen too terribly behind.

"lucy takes care of me, and ona reminds her to let me have fun," you said. alexia seemed to relax a little at that, a small smile gracing her face. "i won't go back to them, no matter what you or anybody else tells me. i'd quit the team and run away before i went back."

"you are being taken care of, that's what matters. just, next time that something big happens, talk to me. i need to know these things because i'm your captain, but also because i care about you too. if you're hurting or something is bothering you, i want to know so that i can help you," alexia said. you swallowed back some tears, not having felt like alexia was truly in your corner for some time. she seemed to notice this and stood up and walked around the table. "i'm sorry that i haven't been a very good friend to you."

"it's okay, i don't make it easy," you mumbled against her shoulder.

…

you weren't sure which of the girls had texted lucy, but she greeted you at the door with open arms. you were led straight back to her bedroom, where ona was waiting with snacks and a movie loaded up. you let the two of them cuddle you, even if lucy pretended that she didn't want to.

"dinner go okay?" lucy asked as she ran her fingers through your hair.

"it went fine. alexia and i cleared things up," you told her. you knew that was what lucy really wanted to hear about. ona let out a happy hum at your news, glad that maybe things wouldn't be so awkward later on.

"that's good, you've been very mature about this," lucy complimented. you glanced up at her, absolutely beaming. lucy chuckled and shook her head as she wiped a bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth. "now, the two of you keep it down. i'm getting some well deserved rest."

"goodnight granny," you teased. lucy swatted at you, rolling her eyes as ona started laughing.

"don't encourage her," lucy grumbled.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #teen reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #platonic fic

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chichiscloset · 1 year

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Soft Life 101: 3 Steps to Escape Your 9-5 Job If You Don’t Want to Work

Before we start, I want to clarify what I mean by “Not wanting to work.”

It means, that I don’t want to exhaust myself. I want to roll out of bed at 8 am then go to a workout class at 9 am. I want to spend my time as I please while keeping my workload to a minimum.

Working consistently, burns me out. I have no desire to prove my worth through productivity, nor do I have any desire to engage in hustle culture. I’m sure many of us can relate to feeling like the pressure to perform is exhausting. This is likely why, “soft life” is the latest trend on social media and has taken the girlies on Tiktok by storm.

In this new soft life era apparently, no one has a job and everyone is a "sahm" or "sahgf". While I understand the desire to escape the matrix and have a man you can fully depend on. Creating a more balanced and fulfilling life does not have to solely depend on your partner (though it helps!).

At the end of the day we still all want money! So how can we create an abundant life while still having a work-life balance?

Step 1: Be willing to make sacrifices

There is no such thing as something for nothing. Get that out of your head! I know we sometimes want to be saved, but unfortunately, life isn’t always a fairytale. Everything that we desire in life requires us to give up something else.

Do you want a better body? Give up junk food and exercise more. Do you want a better man? Give up your dust! To bring in the new we have to get rid of the old. If you want a soft life you’re going to have to strategize and be willing to give up what is no longer serving you.

Step 2: Find a passion you can monetize

*major key*

As the saying goes, “If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life”. Find something you enjoy doing, then figure out how you, can earn money from it. Are you good at doing hair? Become a hairdresser. Are you the best dressed in your circle? Become a virtual stylist. I promise you, for whatever talent you have there are people willing to pay you for it!

For myself, I love teaching and writing! Blogging is a great way to share my expertise, create passive income, and create the life of my dreams that don’t necessarily depend on me going into a job. Also, you can make money blogging with a relatively small audience.

Check out my blog post "Make Money When your Young, Pretty & Ambitious." For more on this topic.

Step 3: Invest, invest, invest

*Another major key*

We all need money to survive. There’s no way around it! Ideally, we would live a life where money isn’t an issue and if that is your goal you have to start investing ASAP! By investing in assets eventually, those assets will make you money.

For example, invest in stocks like the S&P 500 (which is an index fund that is essentially many companies in one stock). Invest in stocks that will grow over time and make you more money than you bought them for. There are tons of ways to start investing: choose one!

A few types of investments

Real estate

Stocks

Businesses

If living a soft life is a priority to you start today with these steps that will eventually allow you to either fully retire or work minimally. If you don’t, you’ll just be stuck doing something you don’t enjoy or waiting for prince charming to come and save you.

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astariontopofme · 7 months

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𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 🍷 (Astarion x F!MC)

Summary: Astarion is on his nightly prowl for an innocent civilian to return to his master. He meets an unexpectedly warm soul, distracting him completely and sending him down a spiral of self deprecating thoughts. Basically if he met Tav in his slave days, it’s quite angsty.

TW ⚠️: Descriptions of panic attacks.

Word count: 2.2k ___ Astarion had been ordered to an entirely different tavern that night, the atmosphere a lot more chaotic than what he was used to.

He wasn’t best pleased by the change of scenery, watching from the door as people of all different races and religions cheered and laughed in the name of alcohol, a common ground for their usually differing views. At least he knew who was easy and who was going to put up a fight in his regular spots.

This unknown territory could present itself as dangerous if he wasn’t careful.

Despite his weariness, he was desperate to please Cazador this time around. The last few innocent souls he had lured back to the palace had put up a fight and caused havoc, which had rather displeased the merciless vampire Astarion feared most. It was the whole reason he was now not allowed back to his usual spot. He was not at all prepared to be on his bad side for another day in the shadows if he did not bring the man what he wanted peacefully.

His crimson eyes rapidly flickered from face to face as he scoped out tonight’s target. As much as he despised this cruel task of leading people to their doom, this was all a game of survival. It was what kept him from irreversible punishment at the hands of Cazador.

He had to do this, just like every other night.

In a rather dark and sadistic sense, he was usually pretty nifty when it came to the art of seduction. He knew all the right things to say, the perfect places to rest his hands and the most irresistibly tempting way to look at his prey. If he wasn’t doing such a terrible thing, he’d likely be more impressed with himself.

His lingering gaze on a man he deemed suitable enough to deliver to Cazador was abruptly interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. Turning almost defensively, he came face to face with a rather attractive woman behind him, smiling at him sweetly.

“Could I just squeeze myself past you please,” she requested kindly, her shimmering eyes flickering across his features before landing back into a lock with his own.

Astarion wasn’t entirely shy or someone who struggled socially, in his own opinion. Yet something about this woman had caused him to hesitate, stopping his train of thought about the fate of the glum looking man sitting at the bar.

The glum ones were always the easiest.

This woman on the other hand smiled so brightly that it almost instantly felt like physical affection. He could feel a warmth within him, something he had never felt in his years as a spawn. The soothing feeling was throwing him off completely, and all he could do was stare at her like he’d never seen a woman before in his life.

Her comforting smile dropped ever so slightly as her brows furrowed a little in concern. “Are you alright?”

Astarion cleared his throat, his conscience giving him a stern telling off for allowing himself to become so distracted by a simple smile. “Yes. Apologies,” he said monotonously, stepping out of her way and into the tavern.

“It’s no bother,” she reassured him, her beautiful smile returning to a full beam once again. “Would you like a drink? You look like you need one.”

There it was again. Hesitation. Almost insecurity in fact. All he had to do was say no and walk away. He didn’t even need to be polite about it, he wasn’t there for niceties, he was there to ruin someone's life. Those two things did not go hand in hand.

And yet he was standing there, staring at her intently once more while his mouth refused to let the simple little word of rejection out. He found himself to be completely drawn to her, and not in a luring her to her death kind of way. Nobody who was completely sober ever spoke to him first, usually put off by his blood red eyes and pasty skin. But she seemed interested in him, and her smile was just too much of a precious sight for sore eyes for him to reject her.

Supposing a quick drink wouldn’t completely ruin his plans, he simply nodded, his tongue stuck firmly to the roof of his mouth. Her eyes lit up at his acceptance before she turned to lead him through the crowd.

At the bar, Astarion placed himself beside the man he had set his eyes on earlier. He seemed particularly upset upon closer inspection, holding what appeared to be a wedding ring in his hand as he weeped quietly. The man truly couldn’t have been more vampire bait if he tried, and Astarion only hoped he would stick around long enough for him to make his move once he’d shaken off the cute lady ordering him and herself a glass of red.

Once they were perched on bar stools and sipping their wine, the woman spoke up again. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“First time,” he responded simply.

“Well, welcome. If you like a rowdy atmosphere, this is the place for you,” she joked, the flickering light from the candelabras above casting a golden hue over her beautiful features.

Astarion merely sipped his wine, trying to keep the main part of his focus on ensuring that the sad sack behind him wasn't going anywhere. And yet his focus couldn’t be shifted from the woman before him. He’d never described another as lovely before, but he could just tell that she had a pure heart.

Another easy target, if he played his cards right.

The nice ones were always his second choice, but he usually led the conversation and bought the drink to charm them. The way this woman had approached him made him wonder if she was trying to lure him somewhere terrible.

“So, what brought you here?”

Astarion snapped himself back into the present, clearing his throat again to slip into his default setting of synthetic confidence. “Oh nothing in particular. The eye candy was becoming a bit…scarce, at my regular,” he responded convincingly.

The woman laughed, a sweet and innocent giggle. Astarion found himself drawn to the way her nose wrinkled up as her cheeks were splayed with a rosy pigment. Her laugh extracted a smile of his own, the only real smile he had managed in a very long time.

What was she doing to him?

“You’re funny,” she assessed, still giggling into her drink. “See anything you like here?”

Her head cocked to the side as she asked this question, her eyes trailing up and down his body subtly. Soft locks of her hair swayed to the side with her head, revealing her collar bone and the smooth curve of her neck. The woman was hitting on him, and he had no idea what to do about it. It had never happened like this before.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he teased quietly with a smirk, his gaze fixated on her glistening eyes.

She laughed again, the sound hitting his ear like an angelic song. The woman was truly refreshing, like a ray of sunshine in the shadowy night. He hadn’t felt something so close to the luxury of the day time for many years, and it instantly made him feel unhappy again.

Here he was again, searching for some poor and innocent soul to rip away from their life and into the hell he’s had no choice but to call home, so they can die at the hands of a sadistic bastard that he cannot escape from. He wanted to live a life. A real life. Going on real dates and enjoying the fresh air in the afternoon sun like everyone in the tavern but himself could do.

A fever dream by all accounts.

“Are you alright?”

He snapped himself out of his thoughts once more, his almost watery gaze meeting her concerned eyes. Clearly he had let his emotions overtake him enough that she had picked up on them, something Cazador would have given him absolute hell for. He was so wrapped up in the terrifying thought of being a slave of the night forever more that he could almost feel himself beginning to panic.

He set down his drink, standing from the stool rather quickly and putting on a fake smile. “I’m fine. Thank you for the drink,” he said sincerely, turning away from her and making his way to the exit.

Air was what he needed in that moment, his sense of hearing tuning out as the woman called out for him to wait. Recklessly elbowing people out of his way, he barged through the exit and back out onto the cobbled road, practically gasping for breath. Even outside, he felt the immense feeling of being trapped. Damned for all eternity.

There was a ringing in his ears and a tingling in his hands as he swallowed every bit of oxygen he could fill his lungs with. He didn’t want to do this anymore, every look of betrayal on every face that he had lied to presenting themselves in his mind, rightfully haunting him for manipulating them so heartlessly. And for what?

For Cazador. Always for Cazador.

When a hand rested on his shoulder from behind, he spun around quickly, ready to defend himself whilst his breathing remained quick and shallow. The same sympathetic and concerned eyes of the beautiful woman widened in shock at his reaction.

“It’s okay,” she said with a slight shake to her voice, holding her hands up. “You’re okay.”

Something about her voice made him believe her for a split second. He most certainly wasn’t okay, but he was by all means going to ensure that she was going to be.

She smiled softly at him, holding out a hand. “I only live a mile away if you need somewhere to calm down. Come back to my-”

He cut her off, grabbing her wrist to pull her towards him a little roughly and clamping his hands on her shoulders. She gasped, the smile dropping from her attractive face immediately and replacing itself with a look of fear. Her larger than life eyes were flickering between his red ones quickly, likely searching for any bad intentions.

“Listen to me,” he warned quietly, almost in a whisper. “If you ever come across another with red eyes and pale skin like myself, promising you an unforgettable night of love and pleasure, do not go anywhere with them. Under any circumstances. Do you understand me?”

The woman froze up for a moment, trying to digest what he was saying to her. Her mouth opened a few times to speak, but nothing came out. He gave her a little shake, his eyes burning into hers to relay the severity of his request.

“Do you understand?”

She nodded quickly, her now frantic breathing matching his. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do such a thing, but he leant in toward her, pressing his cold lips to her soft warm ones for a feeling of comfort. Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away in sheer panic, and Astarion could feel her relax a little beneath him. When he finally pulled away, he let go of her shoulders, taking a step back.

“Please remember what I said,” he almost begged, not wanting this pure soul to become a victim to Cazador.

He turned to walk away, but was stopped when her melodic voice finally spoke up.

“Tav.”

Turning back, he gave her a funny look, not knowing what she had even said. She cleared her throat, speaking up again.

“My name is Tav,” she repeated quietly, looking at him with an expression that he couldn’t read. She looked down at the ground awkwardly for a moment, before glancing back up at him with a bit of hope in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll meet again?”

Astarion furrowed his brows, utterly perplexed by the woman he had just intensely and cryptically warned about his kind mere minutes after meeting her. He couldn’t help the little curl of his lips. She was cute, and definitely the type of person he would have courted if his life was his own.

“Goodnight, Tav,” he concluded, turning back in the direction of the palace and leaving her there.

He wasn’t up for fake interest and meaningless sex to please his heinous master tonight. Tav had made him feel something he’d never felt before, and he gruesomely thought it best to let Cazador punish him for not doing as ordered to get him back in check. After all, this was all just a game of survival, and he needed a fresh reminder of why he had to do such terrible things.

The faces that flashed into his mind were never happy ones, but her smile was one he was never going to forget.

He truly hoped he would see her again someday.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this angsty little AU fic! 🤍

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notjustjavierpena · 30 days

Note

I need more Inez and Reader interactions in my life. She’s so precious! Like a nightmare or bad day and she’s just clinging to reader for comfort all day. I feel like reader would be so empathetic to the kids emotions and wouldn’t ignore them feeling sad knowing that to them it’s a big deal.

Comfort (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Don’t mind me healing trauma for myself and others.

Summary: Inés has a nightmare and needs her Mamá.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, hurt/comfort, Javier loves his girls, nightmares and talk about big feelings

Word count: 900

Comfort

At four in the morning, Javier has his arms around your waist as you sleep soundly. The moon is out, its shine coming through the thin curtains and illuminating the bedroom in a silvery light. You are far off into your dreams when the handle on your bedroom door starts to rattle slightly. It makes your eyes flutter open as your parental instincts are activated and Javier stirs beside you a moment later.

You reach for the lamp on the bedside table and switch it on with a click. Javier does the same and a soft yellow glow replaces the eerie moonlight. Next is the sound of your bedroom door opening and revealing Inés standing on her tippy toes to make herself tall enough to reach for the doorknob.

She whimpers as she spots you both already awake, padding clumsily and carefully across the floor to stand by your side of the bed. When she is close enough for the lamplight to reach her, you notice there are tears in her big brown eyes.

“Sweetie,” you coo, “What’s wrong?”

Javier shifts a little beside you at the sight of his crying child. He sits up and tries not to sound too tired, “¿Qué pasa (what’s wrong)? You’re crying, mi vida (my life).”

“Mommy, I had a bad dream,” she blubbers suddenly but her tone is filled with fear. She is already climbing into the bed, completely ignoring her father’s attempts to soothe her. He says nothing for a moment before lying down again, allowing you to handle the situation.

You untangle yourself from your husband to create space for Inés in your arms, guiding her to crawl over your body and lie down between you and her father. You turn your body to face her once more.

When she whimpers softly as you lay an arm over her to squeeze her close, you tut gently, “Oh baby. It’s over now. You’re okay.”

“It was really scary,” she tells you.

“I bet it was,” Javier replies, “You know how I sometimes get—“

“Daddy, I only want Mommy,” she interrupts him, looking briefly over her shoulder at her father and you hold back a snort when he shuts up with slight offense in his eyes.

“I guess I’ll just go back to sleep then,” he mutters with exasperation and you reach over to pat his arm with smug victory. He rolls his eyes, trying not to show his wounded ego, but when you turn back your attention to Inés, you don’t see the way the exasperation in his eyes turns into a soft gaze. He loves you like this; as the gentle mother to his children.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You ask to gain her attention again, suppressing a yawn. Javier reaches to turn off the light again but you hold out a hand to stop him, mouthing a ‘leave it on’ to him.

Your husband can sense that you have things under control. He moves around for a few seconds before falling asleep once more, the tip of his nose pressing into Inés’ little bare shoulder as a way of letting her know that he is right there even if all she seems to need is you.

“You and Daddy forgot me,” she says with a quivering bottom lip and crawls further into your arms. Beside you, Javier feels his daughter move away and lays a gentle hand on her stomach. You brush a tuft of hair out of her face while she continues, “I was all alone. I didn’t like it.”

“Sometimes our mind knows what scares us the most and feels the need to remind us. You know how Papá sometimes gets scared at night like you just did,” you say whilst repeatedly running a hand over her forehead, “But Papá and I would never forget you, baby. You bring us so much happiness every day. We couldn’t go a day without you. Do you understand?”

Inés’ eyebrows are still furrowed but she nods. You rest your cheek against the top of her head, “I know it was really scary. I would be scared too.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she cries quietly, “What if the bad dream comes back?”

“You have to try,” you brush a tear away, “But if you get scared again, I am right here. You can talk to me about anything.”

When you only receive a sad noise and an even more clingy child, you pull back slightly to let your arm lie above her. Your hand hovers above her forehead, “Do you want me to do the eyebrow thing? Make your eyes so heavy they can’t stay open, huh?”

“Yes, please,” she pouts.

You cradle her head in your hand and rub the spot between her eyebrows repeatedly. Up and down and up and down. Inés’ eyes shut in less than ten seconds but her breathing tells you that she is still awake.

“Here’s what I am thinking,” you say, “We stay home from preschool tomorrow, and then we have some fun time just us two. We can go get ice cream and maybe even—“

Inés’ brows relax and you stop talking. Her mouth goes slack as she falls back fully asleep. Javier snores softly in the dim light. Inés does too.

Oh, you think to yourself, what a privilege it is to be a mother. Tomorrow, you will do everything you just promised and more with your sleeping child.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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justalia · 10 months

Text

persistence

this is probably gonna be my last post before i retreat into a serious break because i have things outside this manifesting world i need to sort through (i’m extra happy don’t worry about me, nothing happened!) i always say i go on break but i never actually do or it lasts just a few days but i’m for real this time!

i wanted to leave before but i felt the urge to post this cause i feel there’s a lot of doubt and confusion around this topic.

many of you still view persisting as a chore, as something you HAVE TO do or else.. something you must do or else..

many of you still view persisting as a job, tiring annoying and something you don’t necessarily wanna do if it wasn’t because you are manifesting.

this stems from a complete lack of understanding of the law.

what is persistence?

now i want you to pay particular attention to the second definition:

“the continued or prolonged existence of something.”

to persist within the law of assumption is to continue being.

nothing more nothing less, it is to just continue being who you decided that you are.

i’m sooo sure that all of you that are just approaching the law and are reading this post are having these specific thoughts right now:

“but i can’t live in my imagination forever”

“oh but i can’t imagine all the time, i have a life”

“yeah i persist but it’s tiring, i don’t wanna do all that”

“i have to persist so it manifests but i don’t have the time or the will to imagine all the time”

“i fulfill myself and persist but it doesn’t work”

or even..

“i get it! i wanna imagine all the time i don’t wanna do my daily tasks cause i just wanna live in imagination”

news flash:

YOU DON’T PERSIST IN THE IMAGINAL ACT. YOU PERSIST IN THE IMPLICATION THE IMAGINAL ACT MAKES ABOUT YOU.

no shit you find it tiring and see it as a job if you think you have to constantly visualize/affirm to persist in being.

whatever your imaginal act may be: IT IMPLICATES SOMETHING ABOUT YOU. IT CHANGES SOMETHING ABOUT YOU.

now i’m gonna take visualization as an example because i am a visualizer and this was exactly the mistake i kept falling into during my early days applying the law.

i thought i had to visualize my desire as much as i could, i saw imagination = visualization (for me) so to persist i must visualize all the time.

“i enjoy it, what’s wrong about it?”

look at yourself, look at your intentions: why are you doing this?

why are you constantly affirming/visualizing?

okay you like it, but why?

my assumption is that you are using imagination as an escape from what you deem reality. you still see your 3D as reality instead of a mere reflection of your state in imagination and use imagination as an escape from what you decided is reality.

you see this world of shadows, you don’t like it you think: i can visualize this!

which isn’t inherently wrong in itself but LOOK at your intentions. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’RE IMPLYING WITH YOUR ACTIONS/DECISIONS.

if that’s what your doing this means you don’t understand the law. you don’t understand that imagination is reality and you don’t understand what persisting actually is.

you’re always persisting in being

“i can’t live in imagination all the time, i want my desire in front of me!!”

well boo, hate to break it to you but when you come to me and tell me these things i genuinely think your dumb and i’m not even gonna bother replying to your question to try and help you.

why? because first of all it’s clear you haven’t even taken the time out of your day to read my posts, if not the source at least read the posts of the person you wanna ask a question to.

second of all.

WHAT ARE YOU NOT UNDERSTANDING ABOUT THE SENTENCE “IMAGINATION IS REALITY”?

imagination IS reality because YOU ARE ALREADY LIVING INSIDE IMAGINATION.

how?

YOU MAKE ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT WHO YOU ARE ALL THE DAMN TIME.

what’s wrong about these assumptions is that you create them based on this world of shadows that is inherently reflecting you instead of actually allowing yourself to be and have whoever the fuck you want in this world BECAUSE YOU ARE GOD.

YOU PERSIST IN BEING SOMEONE ALL THE DAMN TIME.

RIGHT NOW YOU’RE PERSISTING IN BEING UNLOVED, UNCHOSEN, UNWANTED, POOR, BROKE, UNSUCCESSFUL BASED ON WHAT???

YOUR ASSUMPTIONS!!!!!

you look at this world of shadows that is reflecting YOU and think “YEP that is the end! that is who i am i can’t do anything about it! that’s my identity forever!”

YOU ASSUME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF ALL DAY EVERY DAY!!!!!

and you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you’re unloved and unwanted, are you?

you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you are poor and broke, are you?

you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you are unsuccessful and insecure, are you?

RIGHT!!!!

you’re just assuming that you are..

YEAH.. shocker right?

do you or do you not understand that imagination IS reality?

did you or did you not wake up to who you actually are?

if God is within you, if YOU ARE A FIGMENT OF GOD, if you truly realized that we were put on this earth to realize our power and put it to the extreme tests to live this lovely human life to the fullest, if you ACTUALLY realized this… do you understand that you can BE AND HAVE whatever the fuck you want?

if you UNDERSTAND FULLY that this life is simply a reflection of your wonderful imagination.. do you understand that ALL THAT YOU HAVE TO CHANGE IS IMAGINATION?

THE SCRIPT HAS BEEN FLIPPED! YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT. YOU CAN HAVE AND BE WHOEVER YOU WANT AND IT’LL BE REFLECTED.

you can actually create a new identity for yourself inside of imagination and stick with it because that’s who you truly are!!!

remember this:

YOU DON’T PERSIST IN THE IMAGINAL ACT. YOU PERSIST IN THE IMPLICATION OF THE IMAGINAL ACT.

let’s say you want your person back, how would i properly go about it?

if i wanted to use a method: i would imagine a scene that implies we are together, enjoy it fully, leaving the world outside of myself and feeling what i TRULY want to feel. i would internalize that there are infinite realities and i am just choosing the reality i would like to experience right now, i leave the outer world alone because right now it is showing me something i don’t want. i recognize it is another reality i previously created and whatever i see is LOCKED to that state, i’m not CHANGING THAT STATE, i’m choosing another one to experience that already exists or else i wouldn’t even want it. when i open my eyes i know that i am what my imaginal scene implied. i know i am that which i want to be despite the opposition of the senses because I KNOW imagination IS THE ONLY reality. this is when persistence comes in: what am i persisting in? I’M PERSISTING IN THE KNOWING THAT I AM WHAT MY IMAGINAL ACT IMPLIED. i actually am in the relationship of my dreams and i persist because that’s the only truth.

if i didn’t want to use a method: i decide/choose i already am who i want to be because i can see it with my mind’s eye, i imagine i already am who i want to be without needing to close my eyes and see it in a scene. i know i am who i want to be in imagination, it’s undeniable cause the moment i assume something about myself i instantly see it in imagination. now who did i decide to be? i decided to be in the relationship of my dreams with my person. what do i persist in? i persist in knowing that’s who i actually am now.

DONE! FINITO.

notice how i didn’t talk about the 3D expression. not even once.

i know that imagination is the only reality and i know that this life is SIMPLY imagination reflected, so when i put on some clothes do i go and check the mirror to see if i’m actually dressed or naked? I KNOW I’M CLOTHED, i don’t need the mirror to check if i’m naked or not.

ask me again “how do i believe imagination is the only reality?” and i’m gonna slap you across the face.

YOU JUST BELIEVE IT. YOU JUST ACCEPT IT.

TEST HOW THIS WORKS.

not IF IT WORKS. TEST HOW.

imagine something and assume that your imaginal act is FACT and not the act going on on the outside.

and when the old man tries to come back what do you do?

BE INDIFFERENT.

THAT’S NOT WHO YOU ARE ANYMORE. ACCEPT A NEW IDENTITY IN ITS PLACE.

you already experienced all that you could experience in that state, so accept a new identity NOW.

the 3D is not your enemy. it cannot do anything on its own.

it follows your state and it adapts to you without you needing to adapt to it.

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